#oh no star wars made a bad show! should we tell everyone? should we throw a party? should we invite marcia lucas?

[autismmydearwatson]

"Acolyte haters say the show isn't real Star Wars--" aw that's so sad, it's almost like Star Wars fans say that about every new show that comes out. Are you tired. Are you done yet.

[queenwendy]

The Bad Batch Series Finale (SPOILERS!)

Okay, I finally got around to watching TBB series finale (after dodging spoilers on day) now that I'm done with finals. Spoilers below.

I will preface this with that I am prone to having initially positive reactions and then later souring on a work after I've had time to stew over it, but I have really been liking TBB Seasons 2 and 3 (Season 1 was neat ig but it had a distracting amount of cameos and was a bit goofy). I think the writing has generally been good and the character work pretty nice. While Filoni has an Abrams problem of throwing vague ideas out there and hiding behind "show don't tell" most of the vagueness in TBB isn't an issue. The big thing everyone on Tumblr is upset about is that Tech is dead-dead and that CX-2 was nobody we knew. To that I say: good. Tech's sacrifice in Plan 99 was meaningful and directly allowed everyone to survive, and they all did. I saw somebody else post about it (I dunno who, it's hard to search Tumblr) but CX-2 is a narrative foil to Crosshair, a sort of shadow-version of him. Making that Tech would be utterly nonsensical. Additionally, media in general--and Star Wars in particular--has a problem with killing off characters and then just, letting them be dead. Tech died. Period. End of story. Sometimes, heroes die. Sacrifices are made. There's no secret reveal, there's no "somehow, [so-and-so] returned!" they're just gone. Tech's death was a gut punch but it works because of how it upped the stakes and made Hunter and Wrecker waaaay more desperate.

Also, all of the interactions between Omega, Hunter, Wrecker, Echo, and Crosshair and the way they discuss one another were perfect. Crosshair asking who released the Zillo Beast and Hunter & Wrecker immediately knowing it was Omega. Omega comforting the green alien kid (I do not at all remember their names lol) with discussing Wrecker's fear of heights, a fear previously played mostly for laughs. The way Omega hugged Crosshair first, then Crosshair and Hunter because she understood how awful it was for Crosshair to return and the narrative needed to prove Crosshair wrong and that Omega needed all of her brothers. Plus, Crosshair DESPERATELY wanted his brothers to stay the hell away from Tantiss and not go inside.

Additionally, I love the expansion of canon in that Hemlock's research is probably the origin of Dark Troopers and that Project Necromancer was cut short, leaving the Imperial Remnant that would eventually become the First Order to pick up the pieces and salvage whatever the hell they could (Not that I like any of the way the Imperial Remnant and Palpatine's Return were handled in the sequels but whatever).

Also, Helmock getting stabbed, shot sevenish times, and then falling off a mountain will never not be fucking hilarious oh my god.

Finally, Omega joining the Rebellion is perfect. If we ever get a show exploring that it better A) not be another Ahsoka and B) be animated. And if we don't? Well, I can always write another star wars one-shot that's basically "these two characters must have met at some point, right?" About her time in the Rebellion. Rex was there! So were Luke and Ahsoka, and Omega should have reunited with Rex and seeing her interact with the Rogues and any of Rex's jedi friends would be lovely.

[apocalypticgargoyle]

𝙏𝙃𝙀 𝘽𝙍𝙄𝘾𝙆 | 𝙠𝙖𝙧𝙡 𝙟𝙖𝙘𝙤𝙗𝙨 (18+)

edit by 🐓 anon. im still screaming over this.

∘ request: [insert the 14 asking for more Sapnap humor in a pt. 1.5 of Meet the Jacobses]

∘ pairings: edgy!Karl Jacobs x fm!reader

∘ warnings: smut (18+), nsfw, language, drinking, mentions of Todd the frat boy, lots of dialogue, biting, asphyxiation

∘ links: 𐐪 ao3 𐑂 𐐪 previous part 𐑂 𐐪 submit an edgy!karl edit 𐑂

∘ a/n: this one goes out to the babes in the gc. ily.

i stole the Brick idea from the Jesse McCartney movie, Keith. I'm sorry. [tw for that link - sad & jesse mccartney not talking about beautiful souls]

also thank you everyone for your support on this series. when my friends and I conjured this up, I never thought I would be at the point where I get to share peoples art/paylists/etc. I'm so thankful for all of you.

okay I'll stop crying. happy reading and have a great week! :)

The sun beat down against your skin, your mind drifting to whether or not you should apply more sunscreen. Karl jumped into the light blue water in front of you, the water splashing out to almost completely soak you. You frowned at him as he came up for air, blowing you a kiss mockingly.

Sapnap’s cousins started tackling Karl, the chorus of laughter echoing around the pool. You stretched your legs out beneath the table, leaning into the shade of the umbrella as you watched them roughhouse.

Sapnap came out from the pool house, opening a beer bottle for you before taking the seat beside you. He sighed, buttoning the top of his shirt as he watched the boys. “Did you have a good time at the party yesterday? I dipped after an hour,” he asked, pushing his sunglasses to rest on top of his head.

You shrugged slightly, taking a sip of your drink. You couldn’t wait to tell your roommate how lavishly you’d been living. The fact that you were lounging by a heated pool, drinking beer from Copenhagen with the sons of millionaires was nearly mind-boggling to you.

You wet your lips, squinting your eyes as you looked at him. “I honestly have no idea. I was kind of just there as a Karl accessory,” you joked, making him chuckle softly.

“Yeah, I get that,” he flipped off one of the cousins as they threatened to throw water at him. “It’s always the Karl show around here,” he added. You raised your eyebrows at him and he backtracked. “I didn’t mean that in a bad way. He’s a good guy; everyone’s just obsessed with him.”

You nodded slightly. “Yeah, he’s definitely the star baby,” you joked, making him laugh. “I need to ask you…” You bit your lip voice trailing off as you searched for the night words.

He sent you a closed-mouth smile. “About my mom and Karl?” He asked, biting back a blithe expression. It shocked you how calm he was about the situation.

You chuckled nervously. “I swear I won’t bring it up again, I’m just,” you cut yourself off, unable to describe the question marks pulsing through your thoughts.

He snorted, taking a sip of his drink. “I know right,” he reassured. “When I found out, I almost broke Karl’s nose,” he chided. “Not that I was like… angry it was my mom but out of how weird it was.”

“Yeah it is really fucking weird,” you agreed, laughing slightly.

He gestured as if to thank you for understanding. “I mean, Karl’s a great guy. He was my best friend for a long time but…” He made a face suggesting his discomfort and you snicked. “That’s my mom, man.” You giggled wholeheartedly at this, making him laugh too.

“What are you guys talking about?” Karl asked, seemingly appearing out of nowhere, dripping wet from his pool time adventures.

“Speak of the Devil and he shall appear,” you joked, making Sapnap wink at you. “Tacitus’ Annals,” you answered, making Sapnap nod at you.

He chewed on his lip, with a calm expression as he supported your lie. “I was telling your girlfriend how much I enjoyed his love of Nero,” he continued, you bit back a smile.

Karl ruffled his hair out in a towel. “Come on now,” he grumbled, calling the two of you on your bullshit.

Sapnap squinted as he looked up at him. “Karl supremacy. As always,” he answered with a touch of quiet sarcasm, making Karl roll his eyes playfully as he took to the other seat beside you.

Karl ran his fingers into his hair. “You wanna get matching tattoos together, Sapnap?” He quipped; Sapnap sending him a smug expression.

“Why? What were you thinking?” He asked, knowing he was walking into whatever Karl was setting up.

Karl pulled the leg of his swim trunks off his leg a bit, furrowing his brows. “I wanna get your mom’s name on the top of my thigh,” he teased, biting his lip. You rolled your eyes playfully.

Sapnap let out a sarcastic laugh. “Oh my God, that’s so funny. I totally didn’t see that coming.”

Karl took a sip of your beer and you spoke up. “I think you’d look good with a tattoo, Sapnap. All jokes aside, you’ve got a great body,” you mused, sending him a wink. Sapnap bit back a smile looking at Karl, who you could already tell was glaring back at him. “Side note, I was meaning to ask you. There’s a guy that’s in Karl’s frat,” you paused, trying to remember what Karl had said Todd’s real name was when you were pinning his auction number on him.

Sapnap raised his eyebrows. “Oh, Mark?”

You pointed at him. “Yes, the fake Romney.”

Sapnap snorted. “He did that on campus too?” Karl nodded, a look of disappointment spreading across their faces.

“Speaking of Todd Mark, the king of the Brick” Karl kicked his feet beneath your chair before continuing, “I heard there’s a bonfire tonight,” he probed, making Sapnap slowly shake his head in disapproval.

You raised an eyebrow at the two. “What’s the Brick?”

Sapnap seemed to have already made up his mind on the situation. “A fucking cesspool,” Sapnap grumbled, sipping from his bottle as Karl tsked. Sapnap tilted his head. “You really wanna take her to the Brick? People get together and smoke crack over there. The fact that,” he paused to furrow his brows at you slightly, “Todd Mark? is the benefactor should say something,” he stated, lips curling into an uneasy expression.

You peered over your shoulder at Karl as if to ask if he were crazy. Karl swatted off your gesture. “They don’t smoke crack this time of year. All the locals are back visiting for break.”

Sapnap shook his head again in unease. You chewed your lip, leaning back in your chair. “I don’t know… Sapnap, do you wanna have a movie night instead?” You joked, making Karl sigh behind you.

Sapnap mimicked your mock severity. “Yeah, a stay in and cuddle?”

“Of course,” you repeated.

Karl wheezed. “No, we’re going.”

Without missing a beat, Sapnap chimed back. “Maybe you can take my mom instead?” Karl’s expression flattened at his words and you nodded, high fiving Sapnap in mock victory.

Despite Sapnap’s hesitation, you all went to what they referred to as The Brick. In reality, it was a spot on the edge of a lake. They only called it the Brick because of Todd’s dad, a racecar driver who claimed the post back when he was in high school and later bought it. A large bonfire burned in the center of the space, various people around your age and a bit younger were either dancing to the music coming from one of the souped-up sports cars or shotgunning beers. You pushed away the thought of your stingy fire marshall back home who―more than once―had reported you and your family for “overactive cookouts.”

“Overactive,” meaning your dad and Clay were failing at not catching hotdogs on fire when the two would get lost in a chat about a mutual videogame when the families would cross the fence line in the summer.

As soon as you had stepped foot on the gravel, Karl was welcomed back like some kind of celebrity, so you stayed close to Sapnap. He would lean towards your height, pointing people out that Karl had mentioned in the past or those worth noting. You nodded along, soaking in what he had to tell you and laughing at his jokes.

A random guy strolled past the two of you, making Sapnap purse his lips. “Hey, Sapnap. How’s your mom?” One of the countless jokes thrown at him since you’d arrived.

He tilted his head with a mock look of questioning. “Didn’t your parents just get divorced, Jeff?” He deflected. Jeff’s face dropped slightly as he moved on. You always found yourself struggling not to laugh at how well Sapnap was at counteracting the jabs at his mom and Karl. Most of you felt guilty for how long he had dealt with it.

Karl watched you carefully as you sat down beside Sapnap on one of the vast benches; hands shoved in his pockets as the group around him caught up. You were glad to have someone around like Sapnap, despite the fact that you often went to parties. In the past, it was more of a bi-annual thing, but since being with Karl, you found yourself shoulder to shoulder with nameless people in a line doing shots every other Thursday.

You laughed as Sapnap joked about avoiding the drinks at the Brick because of the mites in the water and the STDs in the beer. “So, I never asked how you met Karl?” He queried, sticking his hands into the pocket of his Baja hoodie.

You smiled slightly. “Uh…” Shameless thoughts of you on your knees in a random building when you barely knew his name paced through your head like a quickfire of serotonin. “We had a lecture together and he liked my handwriting.” Sapnap smirked, chuckling slightly at your words.

Karl’s eyes were trained on the two of you, demeanor shifting each time one of you leaned towards the other to hear over the music or the two of you bumping each other’s arms to grab your attention. You knew he wasn’t jealous, but his look of curiosity was almost hilarious to you. Sapnap stuck by your side while Karl introduced you to his friends. He was basically your encyclopedia on the newer people as Karl would go off on a tangent with them.

The fact that Karl was so close to all of them and was so popular made your heart swell with pride. You were used to Karl’s deadpanned glares at most of his frat brothers and his snide comments, but now he was welcomed back like he was some kind of hero returning from the war.

After saying goodbye to Sapnap for the day, you threaded your fingers with Karl’s, enjoying the time where it was just the two of you. He brought the back of your hand to his lips, smoothing a kiss against your skin. “So… Sapnap’s mom…” you began, making him chew the inside of his cheek. “Where… did it happen?”

He looked down at you with a perked eyebrow before raising his sights forward, pulling you off the street where the two of you were walking. You followed him as the pair of you snuck through between the houses and across the backyards until the two of you were at Sapnap’s house again. Through the front windows, you could see him talking to his sibling in the kitchen.

Karl grabbed your hand, leading you along the side of the estate and toward the pool house. You wanted to groan at the thought before he pulled you through the door with him. “Are you serious?” You hissed, looking around at the dark place. Karl fought not to smirk as he peered out through one of the windows, watching the lights in Sapnap’s house turn out.

The moonlight streamed through one of the slender windows, illuminating his face and washing his features clean. Your gaze trailed along his arms; his tattoos peeking out from beneath his hoodie as he reached up to lock the door.

He turned back to face you, walking closer to you. “Did you have fun today?” He asked, plopping down on one of the couches and pulling you into his lap. He moved your arms to rest around his neck, pressing his lips to your skin. “I feel like I didn’t see you at all. Sapnap’s a bogart,” he muttered jokingly, settling his hands on your hips.

You scoffed before leaning toward him, pressing your lips against his. “Make it up to me,” you murmured, raking your fingers into his hair. “I think I selfishly need you to ruin me here; you know. Like a cleansing of you and Ms. Scarlet,” you chided.

He bit his lip, eyes pulsing with lust as he fought not to grin. You pressed your lips against his, turning to lay back on the couch and yank him on top of you. He chuckled into your kiss, as your hands moved to curl into his hair. His lust was a taste you could get drunk off if given the chance as his hands traveled the length of your body, moaning as you ground your hips against his, gripping into his clothes.

He leaned off of you momentarily to pull his shirt over his head as you slipped out of yours, you wrapped a leg around him, pushing him onto the couch instead and pinning him between your thighs as you straddled him, running your hands up his tattooed chest and connecting your lips again.

One of his large hands covered your breast as you began to grind your hips against his. His teeth grazed against your skin as he caressed your body while you moved against him, trying to create as much friction as you could against his jeans. He ran his fingers along the hem of your underwear, his lips curling into a smirk as he moved slightly to get a better look. "These are nice. Did you plan this?" He leered, snapping the elastic against your hip playfully. You rolled your eyes, pulling his chin towards you and pressing your lips against his. Every movement of his body seemed to lick at the fire deep within you.

You smirked breathlessly as his lips settled against your collarbones. “These are my church clothes. I had no other motive,” you jousted. His hand reached up to rest against your collarbone, his fingers lightly curling around your neck.

“Of course, how could I not realize,” he jabbed, pressing his lips and tongue against your neck. You moaned, tugging at his zipper before wrapping your hand around his cock, pumping him into harder arousal. He groaned against your neck, bucking into your hand lightly. His head tilted back against the couch beneath you, cheeks flushed at the attention. His teeth nipped at your skin as you ground yourself against his thigh, basking in his noises of pleasure.

His cock pulsed in your hand, making him grab your wrist and pull you beneath him. He gripped one of your legs, resting it in the crook of his elbow as he pushed himself into you, connecting your lips to swallow your moans. The feeling of him inside of you sent a wave of pleasure through your body. His voice was low in your ear, murmuring your name as if it were a curse. You moaned as he took one of your hands, lacing your fingers together beside your head as he kissed you again, tongue slipping into your mouth.

His thrusts became more rhythmless, his hold on you driving him deeper as the pool house filled with the noises of your whimpering moans. Karl’s breath was warm on your neck as he took advantage of your submissive state. He moved his hand from around your leg, wrapping his fingers around your neck again. Your body shivered, waiting for the pressure of his hand as his hips rocked against yours.

He chuckled darkly, teeth grazing against your shoulder before his lips hovered beside your ear. “Beg for it,” he commented, voice strained as he thrusted into you.

You swallowed, fingers digging into his back. “Choke me,” you groaned, “please.” His hand tightened around your neck, breath hitching in your throat as his thrusts became rougher. He bit back a smug grin at the way you reacted to his antics, relishing in your body beginning for more.

He relaxed his hand, pressing his lips to yours as you struggled to inhale. Heat ran through your body as your leg curled around his waist, nails raking down his back.

You leaned away from his lips, voice coming out unevenly as you moaned his name. His movements became sloppier as you groaned in bliss, tugging the flesh of his bottom lip between your teeth. You tipped your head back slightly as you reached your climax, riding out your pleasure and sending him over the edge as he pulled you closer to him, his hands digging into your hips as he encouraged you to continue grinding against him. You exhaled deeply, pressing your lips against his neck and his cheek before kissing him breathlessly as your movements slowed.

You pulled on your shirt, Karl’s hands moving to rest on your hips as he pressed a kiss to your neck. “Should we leave a note for Ms. Scarlet?” You joked, making him chuckle as his arms wrapped further around your waist, cheek pressing against your shoulder.

“Who?” He teased.

Tag List: (to be added, follow this link :))

@mrwinemaker @madsbbg @idiotinnit @westyywifee @kiritokunuwu @theholycakehole @itgetsatadhazy @himbobimboeater @karlkitten @pluto-dizzz @twist3dtinkerbell @more-like-reyna @teenage0jealousy @deepestofwaters @honk-izzie-was-taken @froggyy06 @ghoulandghost @instabull @glowstick-cafe @marshmallow-babe @drunkpumpkincake @anoaeunoia @little-gremlin-in-the-walls

[selfawarejester]

It's The Vanilla And Spice That Does You In (Cora Hale x Reader)

Hey, Kit! Thanks for the first request dearest 🥰🥰! (I remembered that you wanted more Derek, so here you go!)

pairing: Cora Hale x Reader

rating: nothing saucy, they just sleep in the same bed.

You and Cora were never the closest people in the pack.

As a human, you gravitated to Stiles and Lydia — even though the strawberry blonde was a banshee, she was still more on your side of the scales than the others’. Scott was someone you’d spent many an evening with, third-and-fourth wheeling to whatever crazy theory Stiles had been plotting up in his room, which eventually led to you being accepted into the nerdtastic duo… and you don’t regret any of it.

Allison was a tad too serious, and you’d only really become friends with her after she broke up with Scott, which yeesh, but she still offered to help you learn how to defend yourself which you appreciated immensely. Similarly, Isaac was a friend, but you weren’t that close.

The Hales were a whole different can of beans. Derek used to be this terrifying entity that made you have a heart attack every interaction you had, but now was just a bitter, deeply flawed man that you used to crush on when you were a kid. Peter was the creepiest of all creepers, and you gave him a wide berth in every way possible.

Cora… well, she was nice enough. It was a distant kind of politeness, the kind that made you think it was just out of routine and not because she actually cared about being nice to you — the same way she opened doors for Lydia, or unscrewed jars for Stiles (though she did make fun of him mercilessly for it), or offered to walk with you and Isaac to Biology.

So, it happens during a pack meeting; or we’ll, right after one. You’re talking about implementing patrols, just to come out ahead of whichever serial killer was coming after all of you next. Stiles and Isaac had ended up arguing, of course — “Maybe this is just you being paranoid, Buzzfeed Unsolved.” “Hey, that is a great show, and it’s not my fault if you wanna be lazy, Lahey!” “Ha, big words from the guy who won’t be doing any legwork!”

And slowly, sides started to form, at which point Derek interceded and suggested that everyone go home for the evening and sleep it off. Stiles, Scott and Lydia took the chance and ditched everyone, eager to get away from the tension and finally introduce the girl to Star Wars.

Allison rolled her eyes, and leaned over to you. “Stiles is gonna regret it when she starts pointing out the scientific inaccuracies.” And you have to laugh, remembering the torturous night that she decimated Total Recall. But what shocked you was the chuckle that came from the other end of the couch, and the quirk of Cora’s lips as she browsed through her phone. You brushed it off, assuming that it was a meme or something.

“So. Do you need a ride home? It’s on my way.” Allison asks, and you refuse, citing that you wanted to help Isaac with biology.

“Oh, why didn’t you ask Lydia-?”

“Nope!” Isaac calls out from the kitchen, puttering in with arms stacked high full of snacks. “She’s mean.”

Allison… has to agree and leaves you to your studying.

Unfortunately, y’all are bad at it.

After a good thirty minutes of rage-quitting, Cora finally gives in with a loud groan that startled both of you. You hadn’t noticed that she was still there.

“Move over, dimwits, I’ll help.”

So, maybe you were ignorant or she was just great at hiding it, but she was great at Biology. Not Lydia level, but she understood the concepts well enough that she was able to tailor the explanation differently for you and Isaac. By the end of it, you were grinning widely, feeling like you actually understood something.

You thank her, saying as much, and there’s this underlying fondness to her smile — a very rare, pretty thing that you found yourself wanting more and more of — and jostles your shoulder with hers. “Don’t worry about it.”

“Well, what’s going on here??” You all groan in unison, and ignore Peter leaning over the back of the couch to gaze intently on his niece… who’s sidled up to you pretty close. “You know, Ms. L/N, we have strict rules for our little girl.”

“Shut up, Peter.” Cora growls, throwing a venomous glare that you can’t help but try (and fail) to mirror. “Yeah, don’t you have other teenage girls to perv on?” Isaac chimes in, backing you up. Peter holds up his hands in mock surrender, before returning to his usual schmooze of I know better than you.

“All I wanted to do was tell you that the storm is getting really bad.” All of your heads’ snap to the window— god, it was really coming down. You had to walk back in that?? You’d die of hypothermia, if you didn’t slip or get in an accident.

“Sorry, Y/N, my music was turned up too high.” Cora says quietly, right next to your ear. A shiver goes down your spine, and you convince yourself it’s the cold, and shake your head. “Hey, it’s okay. You couldn’t focus, I get it.” And then you turn back, frowning at the lightning that lights up the loft for a moment. “But there’s no way I can go home tonight.”

“You can stay here.” You whip your head to Cora, wide-eyed but genuine behind you. You’re too thrown off-guard by her proposition to notice how quick it came, but Peter and Isaac do, sharing a sly glance before the teenage wolf realizes who he’s doing it with and grimaces, shaking his head. “Yeah, you can bunk with Cora.”

“Oh, I don’t wanna impose… I can sleep in Isaac’s.” You offer. You don’t want to impose, but you recognize the burgeoning bundle of emotion in your chest, and it won’t be helped by sleeping the same room as the gorgeous Hale. Cora shakes her head, pushing herself to her feet. “Won’t work, Isaac’s room is messy as hell-“ “hey!”

Peter slinks forward. “I would offer, but considering my history…” He turns his sharp look onto his niece, who’s scowling at him again.

“It’ll be easier this way. C’mon.”

She holds out a hand, and you take an embarrassingly long moment staring at it, before taking it and letting her haul you up. She urges you up the stairs to her room, shrugging off her jacket and kicking off her shoes with no hesitation, while you’re standing next to the doorway like a statue. She slants an elegant eyebrow, and your heart flutters because oh my god-

“Are you coming?” She asks slowly, before dropping onto the bed. You gape, pulling off your jacket and ditching your boots with no little trepidation. You sit on the bed with shaky moves. “Okay, why are you so anxious? I’m not going to make fun of your movie, I swear.” “W-what?” “The… movie? I asked you in the hall?”

Oh, she had? Okay. Okay, yeah, you could do a movie! You picked something funny, cheesy, a little kitschy — you wouldn’t be offended if she decided to tear it to shreds. But she doesn’t, just sits there and laughs at the jokes, and raises an eyebrow at the bits that don’t land. But she watches it seriously, much seriously than you, and when you bring it up, laughing and drunk off of Sprite, she just levels you with a serious look and says in a voice that sends shivers up your spine again. “It was important to you, why would I make fun of it?”

Now you know which of the Hales is the one with the game. Further proof is how Derek immediately barges in and glares at both of you. “That’s enough.” He bites out. “Sleep.”

You’re glad for the interruption, but Cora mutters something in Spanish under her breath, and you’re almost positive it was a curse.

You clamber down to the floor, pulling the extra pillow with you when Cora grabs your hand. “Whoa, whoa, where are you going?” You blink, and point downwards. “…to sleep?” And she laughs, pulling you back up. “Do you have any idea how much colder the concrete’s gonna get overnight? You’ll freeze. Just sleep here, I don’t mind.”

You should know better, you really should, but she’s so sweet that you relent and slip in beside her.

You usually can't sleep well in other people's homes - it took you months before you could even nap on Stiles' couch - but you don't even remember falling asleep.

All you can recall is the morning sun slipping through the slit in the curtains, falling on the wall opposite you thankfully and causing you to stir.

There's a delicate arm around you, but you know Cora's much stronger than her frame gives away. Her face is buried in your hair, which doesn't seem comfortable, but you can her breathing evenly. She smells great, like vanilla and spice... just as alluring and mysterious as the woman herself. Your cheeks color as she makes a content sound and cuddles into you closer. Her eyelashes are really long, closed and brushing across rosy apples cheeks. She never needed make-up, and it was obvious now, with her freckles in full display, with petal-like full lips that you gravitate towards...

You flinch when the door slams open again, a panting shirtless Derek glaring at you again.

"Rain's gone. Bye."

"Go away, Derek." Cora says, voice much too crisp and clear for someone still sleeping.

"Stop putting the moves on someone three feet from my room, and I will." He hisses, making Cora lift her head and give him an impassive look that sends him stalking off.

"He's got a point, you know." She says, shifting to sit up against the headboard, brushing silky chestnut locks away from her face. "How about breakfast at the little diner down the street?"

You grin as you realize what she's been playing at, very carefully poking at your boundaries and checking out your reaction, since yesterday.

"I'd love that."

[puckrph]

FOLIE A DEUX SENTENCE STARTERS

taken from fall out boy's 2008 album. feel free to change pronouns, etc! TW FOR DRUG USE, MENTIONS OF SUICIDE.

DISLOYAL ORDER OF WATER BUFFALOES

' i'm coming apart at the seams. ' ' i'm pitching myself for leads in other people's dreams. ' ' there's a hole where something was. ' ' you'll never remember, your head is far too blurry. ' ' he needs his head put through a CAT scan. ' ' i'm a loose bolt of a complete machine. ' ' what a match: i'm half-doomed, and you're semi-sweet. ' ' boycott love. ' ' detox just to retox. ' ' i'd promise you anything for another shot at life. ' ' perfect boy with your perfect life: nobody wants to hear you sing about tragedy. ' ' you've got me staring odd. '

I DON'T CARE

' say my name and his in the same breath: i dare you to say they taste the same. ' ' these friends, they don't love you! ' ' they don't love you. they just love the hotel suites. ' ' i don't care what you think, as long as it's about me. ' ' the best of us can find happiness in misery. ' ' let your body get a tolerance. ' ' free love on the streets, but in the alley it ain't that cheap. '

SHE'S MY WINONA

' life's just a pace-car on death, only less diligent, and when the two collide it's no coincidence. ' ' the lights are on. ' ' everybody's home. ' ' we had a good run, even i have to admit that. ' ' hell or glory: i don't want anything in between. ' ' you gotta show the world the thunder. ' ' we didn't come to compete. ' ' even the young ones become irrelevant. ' ' they always bring up how you've changed. ' ' i'm never the same person when i go to sleep as when i wake up. '

AMERICA'S SUITEHEARTS

' you could have knocked me out with a feather. ' ' we're just hell's neighbors. ' ' why won't the world revolve around me? ' ' in my dreams, trees grow all over the streets. ' ' i don't know much about classic cars, but i've got a lot of friends stuck on classic coke. ' ' i must confess: i'm in love with my own sins. ' ' you can bow and pretend that you don't know you're a legend. '

HEADFIRST SLIDE INTO COOPERSTOWN ON A BAD BET

' when you walk into a room, the walls lean in to listen. ' ' i've got a head like a steel trap. i wish i didn't. ' ' i don't just want to be a footnote in someone else's happiness. ' ' does your husband know the way that the sunshine gleams from your wedding band? ' ' i will never end up like him. ' ' i said "i will never end up like him," but behind my back, i already am. ' ' oh, darling, i know what you're going through. ' ' what if you peaked early? ' ' does he know the way i worship our love? '

THE (SHIPPED) GOLD STANDARD

' sometimes i want to quit this all and become an accountant. ' ' sometimes i want to quit this all and become an accountant, but i'm no good at math and besides, the dollar is down. ' ' i gotta feel the wind chill again before i get old. ' ' i want to scream "i love you" from the top of my lungs, but i'm afraid that someone else will hear me. ' ' i want to scream "i love you" from the top of my lungs. ' ' i'm afraid that someone else will hear me. ' ' you can only blame your problems on the world for so long. ' ' my dad caught me a horseshoe crab, and i asked him if throwing it back into the sea would bring our luck back. ' ' tell that boy i'll leave you alone; like a stove, i'll turn my love down. ' ' like a stove, i'll turn my love down. '

(COFFEE'S FOR CLOSERS)

' i can't explain a thing. ' ' i want everything to change and stay the same. ' ' time doesn't care about anyone or anything. ' ' oh, baby, when they made me they broke the mold. ' ' girls used to follow me around, then i got cold. ' ' i will never believe in anything again. ' ' though change will come, i will never believe in anything again. ' ' i'm a mascot for what you've become. ' ' i love the mayhem more than the love. '

WHAT A CATCH, DONNIE

' i've got troubled thoughts, and the self-esteem to match. ' ' you'll never catch us. ' ' just let me be. ' ' i still want you back. ' ' i'm the one who charmed the one who gave up on you. ' ' they say the captain goes down with the ship, so when the world ends, will god go down with it? ' ' where is your boy tonight? ' ' i hope he's a gentleman. ' ' this is they way they'd love if they knew how misery loved me. ' ' he tastes like you, only sweeter. '

27

' if home is where the heart is, then we're all just fucked. ' ' i want it so bad, i'd shoot the sunshine into my veins. ' ' i can't remember. ' ' i can't remember the good old days. ' ' my mind is a safe, and if i keep it, then we all get rich. ' ' my body is an orphanage: we take everyone in. ' ' i'm doing lines of dust and sweat off of last night's stage just to feel like you. ' ' you're a bottled star. ' ' are all the good times getting gone? ' ' i've got a lot of friends who are stars, but some are just black holes. '

TIFFANY BLEWS

' i'm not a crybaby. ' ' i'm not a crybaby. i'm the crybaby. ' ' i'm cocktail-party doing-alright. ' ' hate me, baby. ' ' maybe i'm a piece of art. ' ' my friends all lie and say they only want the best wishes for me. ' ' oh, baby, you're classic like a little black dress. ' ' you're a faded moon stuck on a little hot mess. ' ' you're like a little black dress, but you'll be faded soon. ' ' wish hard enough, i can turn it to what i like. ' ' your pupils are big. they're rolling like dice. ' ' i'm not the boy i was, and the boy i am is just venting. ' ' dear gravity, you held me down in this starless city. '

W.A.M.S.

' i'm a young one stuck in the thoughts of an old one's head. ' ' when all the others were just stirring awake, i was trying to trick myself to fall asleep again. ' ' my head's in heaven, my soles are in hell: let's meet in the purgatory of my hips and get well. ' ' you put my head in such a flurry. ' ' what makes you so special? ' ' i'm going to leave you. i'm going to teach you how we're all alone. ' ' it's your club, so let me in. ' ' how heartwarming it is inside your skin! ' ' if i don't take the medication, i won't sleep for days. ' ' if we pray to the lord, does he sing on a stage? ' ' i want to get stuck, and be golden in your memory. '

20 DOLLAR NOSE BLEED

' have you ever wanted to disappear? ' ' who will i be when i wake up next to a stranger? ' ' give me a pen, call me mr. benzedrine. ' ' don't let the doctor in. ' ' i wanna blow off steam. ' ' it feels like fourteen carats, but no clarity. ' ' the man who would be king goes to the desert, the same war his dad rehearsed, and came back with flags on coffins and said: "we won!" ' ' only one book really matters. the rest of the proof is on the television. ' ' it's not me, it's you. actually, it's the taxidermy of you and me. ' ' untie the balloons from around my neck, and ground me. ' ' i always thought i'd float away and never come back. ' ' you know me. i like being all alone. ' ' i like being all alone, and keeping you all alone. '

WEST COAST SMOKER

' this fight's fixed. ' ' don't feel bad for the suicidal cats: they've got to kill themselves nine times before they get it right. ' ' i'm a nervous wreck. ' ' the drugs just make me reset. ' ' knock once for the father, twice for the son, three time for the holy ghost. ' ' come on in, the water's warm. ' ' your eyes are blocking my starlight. ' ' i'm the last of my kind, and that's all that should matter to you. ' ' follow the disorganized religion of my head. ' ' we'll never get through customs. let's just take off again instead. ' ' i got my degree in the gutter and my heart broken in the dorms of the ivy league. '

[internalsealpanic]

Love Through the Ages (Tim Drake)

Summary:  Love like baggage needs to be declared.

a/n: This is part two of a series that is a fic rec list disguised as a fic. For these fics, most of the characters will be speaking different languages, so unless specified otherwise assume that the characters are speaking in the first language I mention. They’re all vampires with centuries under their belt. Why wouldn’t I make them all polyglots.  Also, thank you to the proof reading gang for putting up with my shenanigans.  I will have links to the fics I recommend in the fic itself.

Warnings: Everyone is dramatic.

Masterlist

Series Masterlist. 

You watch the rusty green of the warehouse wall disappear behind a spray of orange paint. There is nothing more satisfying than watching paint make old things new. 

A whistle interrupts your reverie, making the can slip from your hand. You swear, the harsh syllables echoing in the empty air. The can bounces down the scaffold and lands in someone’s hands. Tim’s face gets sprayed with a mist of orange. He makes a noise and rubs at his face. You bark out a laugh and he grimaces at you. The begrudging fondness obvious on his face. 

He waves at you, eyes still stinging from the paint. Giddiness flourishes in your chest. “I knew I’d find you here!” He shouts in a dialect of Mandarin that you hadn’t heard in ages.

It takes you a moment to understand him. You’re honestly extremely rusty. It takes you another moment to realize that it made no sense for him to find you. “How?” You shout back in Romanian. 

Tim shakes his head, throwing his hand over his shoulder. “Open canvas.”

You snort, looking down at him. Tim’s breath catches as he stares up at you, your smile. You’re haloed by sunlight. You look like an angel descending from heaven.

Tim’s forced to pick up his jaw when he hears your voice again. You’re tapping your watch. The words are lost to him.

“What?!”

You shake your head, strands of hair coming loose from behind your ear. “I asked...” You shout in a coarse frawl. “... Isn’t it a bit early for you to be here?”

It was. 

He was only 30 minutes early. No big deal. 

He shrugs. “I just wanted to watch you paint.” He says, trailing off. Oh God, Tim thinks. Does he sound lovesick? Is Cassie right? He pushes the thoughts down, opting to look at the building instead. On the side of the building was an immaculate portrait of the Red Hood rendered like a saint, haloed in golden light and surrounded by your orange marigolds. It would look at home in any grand cathedral. Your talents never ceased to amaze him.

“Should I ask why you’re defacing a building?”

You turn back to the building picking up a can of yellow paint. You tilt your head. “It’s a massive improvement, yes?”

Tim looks around. The pavement is littered with wet trash mixed. The buildings were rusted. Everything else is covered in grime. “You’re rude…  but not wrong.”

You preen, electing to ignore the first half. You turn back to your canvas before Tim can get another word in. He knows he’s lost you. 

“So, why *the* Red Hood?” 

You look away from the portrait, setting the can of yellow spray paint. It sprays your sweatshirt and Tim laughs. You stick your tongue out at his face flushing. You liked this sweatshirt. He gave it to you the last time you had meandered into Gotham. “Why not? We’re in the Bowery. He’s like a saint here.” You snip, switching to Russian. Ok, that made sense. You toss your sweatshirt into Tim’s face. The fabric is lousy with the smell of paint and of 5-hour energy drinks. It was an improvement over the pungent odor of garbage. 

He tries to rub the orange paint on his face away before he tucks your sweatshirt beneath his arm. You’re still looking down at him, wry amusement on your face. “I’ll paint your beloved Red Robin when I get to China Town. Heard he was quite popular in those parts.”

Tim’s heart flutters.  He stutters out his next question. “Why are you using spray paint for this type of illustration?”

“Kon said I couldn’t do it.”

Tim snickers, “As if Kon could tell the difference.”

You frown only realizing your mistake. You curse under your breath. Tim doesn’t stop laughing at you. “Shut up!” You snarl.

Tim dodges the next paint can you throw but the next one hits him square in the face. You grin triumphantly. Tim raises a middle finger at you and you giggle in response. You feel bad, seeing him wince in pain. You’d buy him apology tea later but for now, you clasp your hands and call out to him sweetly. “Sorry, Timmers!”

Tim, equally as mature and well aware that you’re only half sorry, blows out a breath, muttering something colorful before shouting back: “we should get going if we wanna eat out after looting the museum.”

At that, you launch yourself off the scaffolding, your body feeling weightless as it falls. Tim drops your sweatshirt as he holds his arms out to catch you. He catches you easily. You two spin as you wrap your arms around him. 

“You are certifiably insane.” He laughs. His nose smooshed against yours. 

“And so are you.” You snort, hugging him. 

He hugs you back. You hum so softly into his hair that Tim wouldn’t be able to tell it from a breath if he were human.  Tim holds you close, hugging your waist tightly. He doesn’t really want to let you go. You don’t either.  You and Tim stand there for a bit when you hear his cell beep. 

“Why does your phone sound like a pager?” 

“Because Babs told me how to.”

“That literally explains nothing.”

“I’m not taking crap from the gremlin who had ‘Baby Shark’ as their ringtone for 12 months. WILLINGLY.”

You pout at him, your face so close to his. Tim’s only half paying attention to your defense. To be fair, it basically boiled down to ‘it isn’t that bad’ and ‘Bart’s ringtone is worse’. 

After a short shopping trip and a cab ride later, you arrive at the museum in fresh clothes and less paint on his face for Tim. 

“All the World’s a Stage. They botched it! The nerve! The barbarity of it all. It's just like when they botched ‘Words with Friends’ or ‘In Ice We Trust’ or even ‘Tomcat’. That last one was pretty much gift wrapped for them!” You say throwing up your hands nearly hitting Tim and whatever poor bastard was unlucky enough to be behind you. 

“For someone who isn't invested in modern media, you're getting fired up.” Tim chuckles, eyes flickering behind you. You had managed to miss the people behind you but you do have a rather conspicuous space behind you. 

“They had such good material to work with”  you say, gesticulating wildly. “And- and they butchered it.”

“You need a 5 minute breather?” Tim asks, resting a hand on your back. 

 “Shut up,” you laugh.

Tim grins at you as if he had no idea what this ultimate betrayal feels like. 

Determined to prove him wrong, you say : “C'mon, Timothy,  you ranted like this when they botched the star thingy.”

“It’s Star Wars, you heathen.”

“Star. Thingy.” You repeat, crossing your arms. 

Tim squints at you. You know he’s not gonna blow up at you but somehow that’s scarier. 

“You can pay for your own cab later.” He grumbles. 

“Star. Thing-Y.” 

Tim turns to leave. This always worked. Always without fail, you grab at his hand, lacing your fingers with his. Tim tries not to smile.

“Fine.”

“Was that so hard?”

“It was excruciating actually.”

“You're being dramatic.” He says, showing the woman behind the ticket counter your passes. 

“Excuse me, I left all my drama in the Renaissance.”

“Oh really?”

“Ok not really but admit that both Andromeda and Stars, Forgive Me have better writing.“ You bite out.

 “I- That’s unfair,” he says. You raise your brow in response. 

“...”

“Fine,” he sighs. “But admit that Andromeda should have been named ‘Space Whores’.”

You squint at him then smile. “Oh abso-posi-tute-ly.”

 “Have you seen this dirty old hockey mask?” You ask, tapping the glass as if the hockey mask would react if you just agitate it enough. 

 “What is that?” Tim asks, looking over your shoulder. His brows crinkles when he sees the mask. “How is that romantic?”

You hum. “Ask the curator?” You suggest, looking around. He was usually out and about. He could never sit still even if he tried. You lean down narrowing your eyes at the plaque. “Says here some dude called Jason terrorized 3 kids over summer.”

“That’s very romantic for our Jay to do.” Tim says, crossing his arms and switching to Cantonese. It was a weird habit but you knew why. Apparently for all Jason’s skill in languages he somehow could not get a handle on Cantonese. 

 “Not that Jason.” You say, smirking. 

“You sure?” Tim asks, leaning closer to you. 

You snicker,  “As in character as that would be...”

“True,” he says, edging closer and closer to you. You rock on your heels nervously at the proximity. “It’s a shame, I thought there would be a machete to match too…” You can feel Tim’s breath on your cheek. 

“OH LOOK AT THIS.” You say twisting away and pointing to a black and white photo. Tim’s hands leave his sides to grab for you, to pin you to his chest, but he has enough self control not to. Instead, he follows you.

“It’s just a man and a woman in business suits. Yanno something you can see in any metropolitan city.”

“Yes but,” you say, tracing a nonsensical pattern into the air, “I’ve heard a story about this, they were both extremely rich and heads of their companies, went from enemies to lovers - my all time favourite.” 

Tim looks closer at the photo of the man and woman with their backs to the camera just holding hands along the NYC sidewalk. It’s cute. “I thought your favorite was lovers to enemies.”

“Well of course, it is! The drama, the absolute tragedy. It’s better than any trope in existence. But I love that this is just black and white. You don’t need anything else to indicate they’re in love with each other.”

Tim is all too tempted to point out that that likely wasn’t intentional, that it was a limitation of the time, but the look in your eyes robbed him of his breath, so he swallowed his thoughts. 

Your eyes rove over the room frantically in search of something. 

“So is there any reason you wanted to go to this exhibit instead of watching lavalantula 10 in theaters?” Tim says, tapping another case. 

You turn to look at him, shock etched into your features.“10? We've seen lavalantula 1 through 9 in theaters? Why did I agree to that?”

“Cus you love me?”

You narrow your eyes at him. “Probably not.”

Tim gives you a hurt look. 

You scowl at him. You have no idea why everyone thinks he’s the nice Wayne sibling. He is a manipulative little shit who plays you like a fiddle. And yet here you are falling for it. An absolute buffoon. 

You grumble an apology under your breath before continuing. “This is more cultural Timmers and lord knows we need more culture.” You wave sarcastically. 

“I think we've lived enough culture.”

“it cannot hurt to experience more Tim,” you snort. He rolls his eyes. You grab onto his arm and look up at him bright eyed. Two can play it at that game. “Please Tim....”

He scowls at you. “Fine-”

“Yes!”

“-but you owe me a movie marathon.”

“Fine. Fine,” you nod, “just don’t pick something dumb.”

“I just got the new star trek box collection.” He beams. 

“You could just shove me into a grave.” You sigh dramatically. 

Tim grins. “The Renaissance called-”

“Oh fuck you, Grackle.”

He snorts and you hate that you fall in love with him more every time he laughs. 

You cross your arms giving him a hard look. “Fine but we have to have an intermission of my choice.” You say, offering a hand. 

“Deal.” He says, shaking your outstretched hand. 

“Great, you've just agreed to watch the Great British Baking Show with me.” You say smug. 

Tim curses himself. 

"Are you still looking for that one painting?"

You tip your body back to look at him, your eyes wide and startled. It takes no time at all for them to shift to their usual angry shape. "Yes," you say quietly. It's Tim’s turn to be startled. Your hands curl into a fist. "It wasn't done and those bastards took it." 

Tim reaches out to put his hand on your shoulder. 

You cast your hands up to the sky dramatically.  "The barbarity of it all!"

Tim smiles, letting his hand fall to his side. You would be ok. 

You two walk on as Tim rants about StarGate  could have had a bigger fanbase if it hadn’t excluded so many people. You add StarGate to the list of things to not remember. 

You stop.

Your heart presses a bruise in your throat. 

Framed in  wood laden in ivy and marigolds is a painting that was painfully familiar.  Even unwashed, you can still see the bright reds of rose petals, the wild greens of the women’s skirts, the brilliant oranges of marigolds, and the blinding whites of cobble stones. The image was a practice in entropy made into perfection. The chaos of Valentine's day in a small town square reduced and captured in an infinitesimal moment.

Damian told you that people had started calling them Warsaw’s Faceless Sweethearts. You hated that.  A part of you wants to scream. You want to tell them that this wasn’t for them. This painting was made for one person and one person only.

You’ve been staring at it too long. Tim looks at you. You’ve known him too long to not know that he’s worried. That he’s feeling that stupid surge of protectiveness he always does when you go quiet. It’s in the cautious way he reaches out to you, slow and steady the way you approach a spooked animal. You want to lash out at him but he’s your Tim. Besides, too much of your mind is trapped in the painting, in the white gazebo, in between the couple who’s stuck in the moment before a kiss. 

Tim stands closer to you, his fingers lacing into yours with centuries worth or practice. He looks at the painting. “This painting looks familiar.” Tim says for the lack of anything better to say. It was yours. He knew that with only a few seconds of looking. 

“I… I don’t think so,” you say clumsily, “that’s definitely not the painting I’ve been looking for. Yup that one looks completely finished. Yup definitely.” You tug at Tim’s arm. 

He gives you a look, staying perfectly in place, before turning back to the painting. His gaze draws low. In a glass case sits scraps of paper lined with charcoal.  It takes an embarrassingly long time for Tim to realize that they’re sketches the artist did. Tim recognized the baker, the blacksmith, the seamstress, and even the constable. Most glaring of all he recognizes your marigolds.  His eyes drift to the sketches of the couple in  the gazebo. They were numerous, haphazard and unsatisfied. You were clearly frustrated with the groom’s face. Tim wonders who the poor guy could be. 

In the corner of the page in the center, he sees it.  “Wait… is that me?”

“NO!”

“Is that you?” He asks, pointing to the figure next to his. In the sketch, your lips are brushing against his. Tim’s lip tingles trying to replicate the sensation. 

You’re frozen stiff. You try to pull your hand away. You want to bury your face in them. Scratch that, you wanna be buried six feet under. Tim doesn’t let go of your hand. 

“That’s the umbrella you lost back in London.”

“I lost a lot in London, Timmy.” 

“Well...” Ok. Yeah, you did. Hence why he can’t get you to London even with the promise of letting you ‘improve’ Buckingham palace. But that isn’t the point. “(Y/n), this is gorgeous.” He says, turning to you. You look at him stunned and scared. He squeezes your hand.

You shake yourself out of his grip. Tim lets you. He knows when to back down. 

You step forward leaning on the rope separating you from your work. “I told you it wasn't finished.” You say, glaring at the painting as if willing the colors to move. 

“What happened?” He asks, bumping his shoulder against yours.

You bump your shoulder against his. “Warsaw.”

“I don’t follow.”

“That little town in Warsaw. It was kind of hard to finish the painting when soldiers were setting fires to houses. Ok, they didn’t do it directly but there was smoke.”

“Yeah kind of.” Tim agrees, smiling sadly. He looks back at the painting. “I want to keep it.”

“What?” You blink not quite following the shift in conversation. 

“Darling, I think we should have it. It’s ours after all.” Tim says holding your hand in his. Your mind is bouncing between too many things. He called you darling. He’s holding your hand. He’s smiling so sweetly at you. You’re addicted to that look in his eyes, pure unadulterated adoration. 

You cover your face with your free hand, feeling the smile on your face go uncomfortable wide. You feel something on your forehead, a kiss like a raindrop. It comes again and you feel like you’re going to collapse. 

“It’s yours..” He trails off hesitantly. “..if..” You look up at Tim, waiting with bated breath. Tim squeezes your hands. “...if you’ll be mine. ”

@batarella​, @anothertimdrakestan​, @lucy-roo​, @multifandomgirl-us​, @bungunz​, @birdy-bat-writes​,  @boosyboo9206​, @americasmarauders​ , @l-inkage​, @arestorationofbalance​ , @cloudie-skay​, @wunderstell​   @hyp-oh-critical​ @glorified-red​

[yandere-sins]

Hi!! 💖 I’m back with another request, if you’re still taking them 😗 how about 40 from the supernatural prompts with yandere Asmo? Maybe he and his darling have been friends with benefits for while, but Asmo wants something more from them now? 👀

Thanks for coming back ♥ Hope you enjoy this!!

Rated Lime for explicit topics and language

“It’s just a simple love potion! Don’t worry, in just a few hours things will be perfect.”

»»————-———— ♡ ————————-««  

Barely, you stifled the yawn that dared to come over you as you reached over to the nightstand, pulling out some tissues from the tissue box. With them, you dried off your neck, happy to get the sweat off your skin. Had you always been this indifferent and bored after conquering the sheets with Asmo? You did encounter those feelings before once your session ended, but you had never been so utterly aware of it.

“Asmo...” you called out softly, your throat felt quite dry after the height you just experienced, having made you scream enough for the next few days. Immediately, his head snapped upwards, attention shifting from his phone to you with a smile falling over his lips. He quickly took the few steps from the bath to the bed, hopping on despite the pillows and blankets being in such disarray compared to his already clean and cared for body.

“What is it~?” he grinned, looking at you like a teenage girl crushing on a star.

“I...” You stopped yourself, wondering if what you were about to do was the right thing. Something you might have forgotten in the casual, fun, and intimate time with him, Asmodeus was still the Demon of Lust. It would be no wonder if rejection wasn’t one of his strong points. But at the same time, after being with him for a long time now, you felt like maybe... he’d understand your situation. You couldn’t help a sigh, and though he’d despise the wrinkles on his forehead, he looked at you concerned, as if he expected something had happened.

“I’ve just been thinking, maybe we should... end this.” With your pointer, you waved back and forth between you two. “The sex is great, absolutly wonderful, but every time we are done, I don’t feel the same satisfaction anymore than in the beginning.”

As expected, his jaw dropped in disbelieve of what he was hearing, eyes widening. You could almost pinpoint the moment the realization hit him as he worked your words through his head, and it made you bite your lip in fearful anticipation.

But all that came from him was a chuckle, a shake of his head as he rolled over and off his bed. “You’re breaking up with me?” he asked, in bewilderment, and you vaguely shrugged your shoulders. “I mean... It’s not like we were in a relationship,” you clarified, just wanting to make sure you both were on the same page.

“Well, of course not,” he huffed. “But I just want to make sure you know what you are doing. You are breaking up--” he paused, letting go of the towel around his hips, giving you an excellent sight of what you were currently trying to leave behind you. “--with this!?”

Ah, geez, you thought, grabbing for one of the pillows to throw it at him. Even a display of his junk wouldn’t change your mind about how you were feeling, almost relieved you would leave behind such a childish display of hurt pride. “Yes,” you clearly said, getting up right when he caught the pillow, displeased by you merely looking away and ignoring the fabulous things in front of you.

“I’m breaking up with the dissatisfaction and rumors I keep hearing about us. How you go around, telling everyone proudly how you owe me and what a good fucktoy I am.” Your explanation was bitter as you slipped back on your undergarments and pants. “I ignored it for a long time, thinking it was just people talking. But honestly, the things you call me while we are going at it, Asmodeus... They almost make me believe those rumors.”

Reaching for your shirt, you were surprised to find Asmodeus on your side of the bed, just a second faster in grabbing it. “You can’t leave.” His words were clear, but without any undertone in his voice. Raising a brow at him, you just chuckled it off, going for the shirt. It was a short tug of war that you won easily as he simply gave in. “Just think of all the things left to do...” he mumbled as he watched you get dressed.

“We can go steady if you want that?”

“What?” you immediately quaked as you pushed your head through the hole in your shirt. “I don’t want to get into a relationship with you--”

“Just think about it,” he interrupted you, circling until he stood right in front of you. You weren’t prepared for his sudden advances, automatically taking a step back as he moved forward, your body simply reacting. Unfortunately, the bed cut off your way, bringing you into a stumble until you fell back down onto the mattress.

Before there was even a chance to get up again, he straddled you, pushing you down by the shoulders with him on top, hovering over you. “There’s no one I’d want more to be my official partner. You are second to none but me, Baby.”

“How many people have you told that,” you asked, almost bored by his confession.

“NO ONE!” he snapped, surprisingly offended by that comment. “You are the only one I ever wanted in my life like this!”

“Asmo...”

“I can be faithful! I can... try at least. And you don’t need anyone else but me--”

You had enough of his blabbering, spouting rubbish left and right as you grabbed him by the back of his neck, pulling him down into a kiss. Asmo melted into the gesture, arms lowering himself on top of you to make it more comfortable while his tongue conquered every open inch of your mouth. He certainly was a good kisser, but not the lover you needed in your life after all. While he was full of passion, you felt yourself sighing into the kiss. At least, it made him shut up.

As if Asmodeus could ever dedicate himself to anymore. Let alone a mortal human.

When you had enough, you were the one to push him away, his lovesick, glazed over eyes shining as if he was about to cry from your rejection of his affection. But keeping him away by your full arm length, all he could do was mildly struggle against you unable to reach back down. “No,” you firmly announced, feeling like whatever you two had was completely over by your lack of feelings for him.

“But... But I love you?” he mumbled softly, though it sounded like a question rather than a statement.

“No matter what you feel, I don’t feel the same.”

For a moment, he got very quiet. From his expression, you almost read the five stages of grief until he suddenly seemed to sober up, letting out a long sigh. “Ooookay,” he finally agreed, and you wondered what the whole show he put on just seconds ago was about when he was able to put away the rejection easily after all.

Without your help, he climbed off you again, only now getting his towel back in place properly and walking over to the minifridge he kept in his room. “Will you have a last after-sex drink with me at least?” he asked so casually, it was hard to believe how upset he was just now. The tension in your body slowly left you as you breathed out, and considering his offer, you decided there was no harm. You two weren’t exactly on bad terms, and you wouldn’t have wanted it any other way.

Agreeing, he brought you a very pink bottle, the label unreadable for you, but he had one for himself in his hand too. I should really polish my demonic language knowledge, you thought to yourself as you clinked your bottle with his, taking a swig. There was sweet, and there was absurdly saccharine, but the last thing you wanted to be now after the whole ordeal was unthankful and complain about the taste.

It didn’t have a distinctive taste like bubblegum or strawberry, but that was probably because the amounts of sugar in it completely overshadowed the original flavor. “I-Interesting,” you mumbled, already feeling it bubble in your stomach, knowing that meant you’d have a bellyache for the rest of the day. Demon food just wasn’t made for humans in any way.

Swallowing hard on the sweet stuff, you clinked your bottle with his again as he held it up to you, bringing it to his lips as you did the same. You were glad it was so small, barely a third of a water bottle, because more of it surely wouldn’t have gone down your throat. But while his grin grew more and more mysterious as he watched you down the last gulp, his bottle stayed filled with the sirup.

“Oh,” you noted as you looked at his bottle. The sugar was really catching up to you, your heart beating rapidly, making your vision go blurry. “You’re not thirsty?”

“Not for this,” he answered, putting the lid back on his drink while the bottle threatened to fall out of your hand soon as you couldn’t keep your grip on it. “Wha- What is it exactly?” you asked as you tried to keep your composure while the world around you began to turn in quick movements.

“It’s just a simple love potion! Don’t worry, in just a few hours things will be perfect.”  

You heard him say these words, and you remembered thinking to yourself what a bad joke that was. But after the crash of a glass bottle hitting the floor, you couldn’t hear anything anymore, losing control of your body and blacking out before you had a chance to do something against your condition.

And Asmodeus? Asmodeus was beyond ecstatic. He knew first hand just how bad those potions tasted, but you had always been too kind to refuse him. He wouldn’t have let you start now with refusing the relationship you two had. Those rumors had only been words he said as a matter of fact, after all, you did belong to him.

He could call you his little fucktoy whenever he wanted.

But he forgave you for the audacity of trying to leave. If he had to remind you of your place by his side, he’d be glad to start at the bottom again - he was a demon, he had time.

Pushing away your legs, he pulled out his fun box, searching for the sturdiest rope he owned. It was simply perfect for securing you, just in case the love potion wouldn’t work as well as it worked on other demons he tried it on before. Tensing it between his hand, Asmodeus decided that he just couldn’t risk you thinking about leaving again, even if that meant permanently restricting you from the possibility.

[nova-is-a-writer-now]

The way you said “I love you”

Summary: All the times you and Zuko said I love you to eachother, sometimes without even actually saying it.

A/N: I was feeling a little uninspired while trying to write pt.4 of Fools, so I decided to write something else in the mean time. I saw someone did this and I found it so adorable I decided to do it too. Sadly I only saved the original post and not the hc that was inspired in it, so if you know who came up with this pls @ them so I can credit them.

Side note, I had more ideas for some of the other prompts but didn’t want to make this excessively long, so maybeeee I’ll make another one of these but we’ll see.

original post

-IF YOU HAVE ANY REQUESTS DONT HESITATE TO ASK-

As a hello

It was late on the night the gaang had finally agreed to let Zuko join them. They hadn’t been specially trustful or accepting of him, but they let him join, and that was what mattered to Zuko, he’ll work his way up to everything else.

He couldn’t sleep, thoughts about everything that had happened and everything that would happen running around in his mind. The stars above him glimmered in wonderful harmony, the time of the year where the sun would be more forgiving at day and the nights would gain a growing coolness to them came around.

Lost in his head, Zuko was startled when he heard you take a sit next to him. You were the only one in the group who Zuko didn’t know that well. He’d only seen you a handful of times before that night and couldn’t really tell on what ground he stood with you.

You handed him a blanket with one hand while you held your own around your back and over your shoulders with the other. “Didn’t want you to freeze to death on your first night.” You explained when you saw the confused look of his face.

“I’m a fire bender, I don’t get cold.” He replied taking only a couple of seconds to mentally slap himself for being rude. This being a good guy thing was gonna take some practice.

“Oh” you said, the realization of his words hitting you, feeling a little dumb for not thinking about it before.

“But thanks...anyways” Zuko tried to redeem himself, hoping he didn’t make a bad impression on the one person who didn’t hate him already.

“Yeah, no problem.” Your eyes drifted up to the stars too. They were prettier tonight, maybe it was because of how peaceful things felt for once. A deep sigh forced you to turn your attention back to the dark haired boy. “Are you ok?” You asked him, hoping he wouldn’t feel like you’re intruding.

“Yeah, just...worried. Katara still hates me, Sokka doesn’t trust me and Aang only keeps me around because he needs me. I’m not complaining, I just... don’t know how to show them I’ve changed.”

“I’m sure Katara is gonna come around eventually, she has too much of a big heart to stay mad at anyone for too long. Aang is the one that convinced everyone to let you join, so I think he does like you, and Sokka is...well, Sokka, I wouldn’t worry about it” you reassured him.

Zuko gave your words a thought. You were right, but things were still complicated. He looked at you and asked. “Why are you being so nice to me?”

You looked away from his gaze, his golden eyes were a bit intimidating if you were honest. “I...don’t know. I guess I just believe you when you say you’ve changed. I see good in you... I always have, even when we were running away from you. All of us have done things in the past we aren’t too proud of, some of them may be worse than others, but we’re all here now, and we’re all trying to do the right thing. I think that on its own makes you worthy of a second chance.”

Your words shocked Zuko. No one besides his uncle had been that kind to him in a long time. He felt hope inside, if someone as kind and good as you could forgive him, think that he could be redeemed, then he hoped everyone else would too. “I...thank you. I promise I won’t disappoint you... any of you.”

“You and I can start on a blank slate, as a matter of fact” you extended your hand to him. “Hi, I’m Y/N, very nice to meet you.”

Zuko chuckled very lightly at the weird way you had decided to show how it was a new beginning for the both of you, but played along. “I’m Zuko, it’s very nice to meet you too.”

When the broken glass litters the floor

It was your first day on the Ember Island’s house. Katara and you had been cooking with the groceries Sokka and Suki brought from the market. You two weren’t experts but you had gotten so much better by then. Katara decided to go outside with a basket of cabbages to feed Appa and told you to stay and check on the food so it wouldn’t burn.

No more than a few minutes passed before you heard Zuko coming inside from where he had been training with Aang. He took his shirt off at some point during the training, leaving his naked and muscular torso was exposed.

You tried your best not to stare but you couldn’t help the blush that took over your face when you looked up to his eyes and found him staring right back. His cheeks were blushed as well and you decided for your own sake to assume it was from the physical activity.

“Hey...um, do you mind pouring me a glass of water, please?” He asked softly, his voice a tad raspier from him being out of breath.

“Yeah sure.” You managed to say.

When you turned around to get a glass for him your arm bumped into a glass vase that was incredibly bad placed, throwing it off from where it had been resting. One of your feet was already lifted when the vase crashe onto the floor and into a million pieces, which made you nearly lose your balance and step right on the fragments. In a fraction of a second you felt Zuko’s hand grabbing your wrist and pulling you back, which made you very strongly land on his chest. His other hand instantly moved to the small of your back, as if he was scared you would fall without his support. 

His eyes met yours as you raised your head to look at him, your faces closer than they’d ever been before. Both of you held your breath for a few seconds before you broke the silence. “thank you.” You muttered softly not wanting to move a single muscle.

“You’re welcome” Zuko replied in the same tone, softening the grip on your wrist.

The moment would’ve lasted way longer had Katara not stormed into the kitchen after hearing the sound of breaking glass.

“I left you in the kitchen alone for ONE SECOND!”

Not said to me

Zuko had clearly been avoiding you the past couple of days. Was it the war that was starting to gain weight inside his head? Was it how close you two had started to get all of the sudden? Was it something you did? You didn’t know for sure, but you knew you didn’t like the feeling of it, at all.

He told everyone one morning he wasn’t feeling great, so he would stay inside instead of spending the day at the beach like the rest of you had planned. This was your chance to get him alone and try to talk.

You decided to make him a special tea recipe you’d picked up from Iroh at some point, he said it was a miracle when it came to curing illness. When you tried it you were surprised from how good it ended up tasting. You poured it into a teapot and grabbed a couple of cups, proceeding to take them upstairs where Zuko’s room was.

You were about to walk right in when you heard Sokka voice coming from inside, realizing the door was only half open.

“You can’t do nothing, dude. What kind of dumb ass plan is that?” He said whisper-screaming.

“I’m not telling her.” Zuko replied in a voice so low you almost couldn’t hear him.

“Why not? She clearly likes you back, you know that, I know that, and everyone else does too. The two of you are the only ones who keep acting like it isn’t obvious.”

You wonder who they could possibly be talking about, a small pit of jealousy forming inside of you.

“You don’t know that for sure, and I’m not losing Y/N’s friendship just cause I was dumb enough to crush on her. Trying to get over it is better than getting rejected and ruining everything, I like her too much to do that.” as soon as you heard your name your heart stopped.

Zuko... liked you. He liked you and was scared you didn’t like him back. How could he ever think that? Sometimes you felt like you were too obvious about it, but it was hard not to. It was his golden eyes, probably the most beautiful thing you’d ever seen, how they looked like growing flames when the sun hit them, the little dark spots around the rim of his irises, how they looked at you intensely like if when you talked everything else faded. It was the way he would throw his head back when he laughed, but only when you made him laugh really hard, how his face glowed with a youthful tint, like he was a normal teenager even though you were in the middle of a war, and how when he stopped laughing he had to take a deep breath before letting the laugh die down. It was the way he talked about his mom with such love and adoration, or how he talked about the future with a little bit of fear but mostly hope. It was the way he was always ready to run to you if you needed him to, making sure you were ok, protecting you. It was him, all of him, it had always been him.

You were shocked at the words you just heard but glad you’d heard them. Before either of them walked out and found you there, you walked back downstairs as quietly as you could, praying they wouldn’t hear the creaks of the stairs. Once you were back at the kitchen you decided to wait for Sokka to come down, he had to eventually, and you hoped he would leave Zuko alone when he did. It didn’t take him much longer to do so, to your relief coming down the stairs alone. He looked at you and smiled.

“Hey, Y/N. Watcha doing?”

“Making tea for Zuko, is he feeling any better?”

“Oh, no. He’s terrible, the poor thing. You should definitely go check on him.” He tried to say this without smiling so you would take him seriously but the corners of his mouth were already starting to curve up.

“Will do, thanks Sokka.” On the surface, you were thanking him for the information he was giving you, but deep down you were also thanking him for being the reason why you found out Zuko also liked you.

You walked back upstairs, not even thinking of bringing the tea up with you. You took in a deep breath before opening the door, and you when you did, you saw him laying there, eyes closed at first but opened quickly when he heard you come in.

“Y/N... hi.” He said sitting up.

“Hey, wanted to check up on you, Sokka said you were feeling terrible.” You told him knowing he would kill Sokka afterwards for sabotaging him.

“I’m not feeling terrible, I’m much better actually, but thanks for coming to check on me.” You took a sit on his bed, close enough to be able to do what you were planning your next move to be.

“I’m glad. We need you up and in your best shape right now.” You waited a few seconds trying to gather all the bravery you had inside before saying. “Zuko?”

“Yes?”

You didn’t warn him before closing the space that separated the two of you, one of your hands went up to cup his cheek while your lips pressed softly against his. You could tell he was shocked by how his body stiffened under your touch, your lips moved softly and slowly trying to figure out wether he wanted to kiss you or not. You were about to pull away when he started kissing you back. His own hand sliding up to your neck, holding you firmly while his lips devoured yours, like he had been waiting for this moment for way too long. When the two of you finally pulled apart to fill in your lungs again, your eyes connected with his, there was a new kind of light in them. A smile took over his lips when his eyes drifted back down to your lips.

“Were you eavesdropping when I was talking to Sokka?” He asked softly and teasingly.

“What in the world would make you think that?”

Over and over again, till it’s nothing but a senseless babble

You were under the covers in Zuko’s bed. Your eyes deeply staring into his, your fingers running up and down his jaw, sometimes getting distracted and playing with his hair. The moonlight leaked through the window and the only sounds that could be heard were the ones of trees swaying with the wind.

Zuko looked at you intensely and profoundly. He was sure you were a dream sometimes, something so perfect couldn’t be real, so he touched you to make sure you were actually there, and he held you gently but firmly to make sure that even if you were a dream, he wouldn’t lose you.

“We should sleep” you muttered in a whisper

“We should” he replied his lids already looking a little heavy.

“Good night, Zuko.” You planted a little short peck on his lips before starting to turn around.

“Good night, Y/N” he replied getting comfortable. “I love you.”

Your heart stopped at this words, a warm feeling started to crawl up your body and your eyes that were already closed opened abruptly.

You turned back around to find him staring at the ceiling, eyes wide open while holding his breath. “What did you just say?” You asked him.

“I-... I’m sorry it just...slipped.” He explained.

You knew he could be a little insecure sometimes, always thought he was unlovable so you had to constantly make sure he knew how much you liked him. This was one of those occasions. You crashed your lips against his roughly, pulling him so he would be on top of you. This kiss was a declaration, a promise and a revelation all at the same time, your lips moved hungrily and passionately trying to show him how much you loved him back.

Once you separated you looked at him sweetly and said “Say it again.”

“I love you.” Zuko was more sure of himself this time, a warm smile took over his face.

“Again, please.”

“I love you.”

“One more time.”

He took your face into your hands and kissed your forehead first. “I love you” then he went to your right cheek “I love you” and to the left “I love you” and to your nose “I love you” and finally took in a deep breath before looking to your lips “Y/N Y/L/N you have no idea how much I fucking love you” he kissed you again.

Maybe you couldn’t understand how much love he felt for you, how it burned inside of him like a wild fire, how when you were with him all his worries faded and the rest of the world was put on pause, maybe you’d never even grasp the way you were his first thought in the morning and his last at night, but he could try showing all of it to you with a kiss.

You pulled away to look at him one last time and said “I love you more, I will always love you more.”

[dalekofchaos]

Harbinger and The Illusive Man

Something I think would’ve fixed Mass Effect 3 while also keeping the plot and the dynamic of The Reapers and Cerberus as the main threat is making Harbinger the big bad and The Illusive Man as his puppet or as The Illusive Man could’ve put it his “partner”

My other ME3 metas

ME3 mistakes

ME3 ending fix

I cannot state how much I hate that Harbinger is almost nonexistent in this game. 

The thing that annoyed me most about ME3 is the fact that Harbinger is not the main threat. The Illusive Man is. Harbinger has been built up as the big bad since ME2. "YOU HAVE FAILED. WE WILL FIND ANOTHER WAY." He says as he discards the Collectors. Then his speech to Shepard as the base blows up. "Human, you've changed nothing. Your species has the attention of those infinitely your greater. That which you know as Reapers are your salvation through destruction. You will surrender your potential against the growing void. We return, and you will rise. We are the harbinger of your perfection. We will bring your species into harmony with our own. Your species will be raised to a new existence. We are the beginning, you will be the end. Prepare for our domination. Prepare for our coming." Then in Arrival, he came pretty damn close to unleashing quick subjugation and harvest upon an unprepared galaxy. Upon Shepard foiling his plans. "Shepard. You have become an annoyance. You fight against inevitability. Dust struggling against cosmic winds. This seems a victory to you. A star system sacrificed. But even now, your greatest civilizations are doomed to fall. Your leaders will beg to serve us. Know this as you die in vain: Your time will come. Your species will fall. Prepare yourselves for the Arrival." The perfect final villain right? Unfortunately, Cerberus was more focused on than The Reapers. My problem with Cerberus and no Harbinger is Too many Cerberus, too few Reaper forces in plot. We fight Cerberus more often than the reapers. Hardly any boss fight and the one with Reaper Destroyer on Rannoch was more an interactive movie than fight. During the Horizon mission in Mass Effect 2, Harbinger was solidified as the Big Bad. It was menacing and ominous, with just the right amount of annoying. It taunted us throughout the game, telling us how insignificant we were, and how our actions were pointless. It was willing to posses drones through the Collector General to fight us personally, and when we killed the host, it tossed them aside. Harbinger even gave the typical “You haven’t seen the last of me!” villain rant. It made any fire fight frustrating, and that made me want to kill it even more; I hated Harbinger. Many games fail to do that. Harbinger was an enemy which I looked forward to defeating. I had the desire to annihilate. In Mass Effect 3, I got a codex entry and a cameo. Harbinger just swoops in at the last second and blows my friends and I to hell(and lets the Normandy save them), then flies off. Personally, I would have loved to hear Harbinger’s menacing monologue, it drove me on. I would have felt a deeper motivation to take the fight back to Earth if it told me how much destruction the Reapers were causing, how many lives were lost. I felt cheated when I got to the final mission, only to suddenly realize it was largely absent from the game. Harbinger has been replaced. Replaced by the Illusive Man and Kai Leng. The former is an old acquaintance, albeit one now controlled by the Reapers. The latter is a space ninja from a terrible book.

I will admit. The Illusive Man is a worthy foe and someone worthy enough to be Harbinger’s Saren. Kai Leng however is a terrible counterpart for Shepard. 

Kai Leng. Sucks. Period. Here is a long in depth version on why he sucks. Even in the novels Leng is a terrible character. He’s a edgelord racist.  He couldn’t even kill Anderson, he almost got taken out by an aging Drell with stage 7 Drell cancer. Oh but he has snarky one liners and he sent that stupid fucking email after Thesia. KAI LENG SUCKS! He is not even interesting. I genuinely fucking sighed when he was introduced. When he killed Thane, all I could think of was “really?”. When he sent that little email I just rolled my eyes. When I saw him at the temple all I could think of was “not you again”. When he “beat” me on Thessia(I would have unloaded my N7 Typhoon and sent his whiny ass into oblivion, but game mechanics said I couldn’t) I just felt angry that such a stupid character ever made it past the writing board. Oh and BULLSHIT. Thane and Kirrahe would have killed Kai Leng. Even near his death bed, Thane could still kill Kai Leng. Kirrahe is a hardened veteran, he is AN STG MAJOR! Kirrahe would have killed Kai Leng in a blink of a fucking eye.  Here is my take on Kai Leng. He should have been killed on Priority:Citadel. If you do not save Kirrahe or don’t talk to Thane. Shepard should kill Kai Leng. If you saved Kirrahe but don’t talk to Thane. Kirrahe comes out of cloak and bombards Leng with Scorpion rounds and Leng blows up. If you talked to Thane, Thane would blow Kai Leng’s head off. The only reason why Leng is presented as a threat is cutscene logic and bad one liners. 

But back to The Illusive Man and Harbinger

To make Harbinger work as the big bad, we need to have Harbinger constantly “ASSUME DIRECT CONTROL” 

Near the end of the first mission, before Shepard contacts the Normandy, we would see Harbinger’s hologram appear like it did in Arrival. Harbinger taunting Shepard. that the harvest begins. 

Instead of suggesting Control, The Illusive Man is basically saying The Reapers can uplift Humanity and ascend them and dominate the other races. With Harbinger’s help, Humanity will be the ultimate force in the galaxy

Everytime we fight Reaper forces, Harbinger is there to “ASSUME DIRECT CONTROL”

Kai Leng dies on The failed coup on the Citadel. The Illusive Man does not care as he is close to finding The Catalyst 

On Rannoch, instead of a Destroyer Reaper talking to Shepard, Harbinger’s hologram will appear. Harbinger will continue to taunt Shepard, but Shepard shows that everyone is coming together to end the Reapers once and for all. Harbinger would not say that the Reapers are needed to keep synthetics from killing organics. He would say The Reapers are there to ascend and are your salvation through destruction. Harbinger’s end quotes from ME2 is basically the premise of The Reapers end goals. That's all it needed to be.

On Thesia, The Illusive Man will explain to Shepard that Harbinger chose him. After The First Contact War, TIM found a Reaper artifact. In that artifact, he was contacted by Harbinger. He lost his human vision, but awakened to the truth and because of Harbinger’s guidance, he founded Cerberus. Strength for Cerberus is strength for humanity. TIM believes he and Harbinger together they could uplift and empower humanity over the lesser races. The Illusive Man is to Harbinger, as what Saren was for Soverign. He will then tell Shepard, he plans on using the Crucible to finish what the Collectors started. Completing the Human Reaper. Then TIM sends a group of Phantoms, Nemesis and Cerberus Dragons to face Shepard in place of Leng. Thesia falls. 

Sanctuary is used to create Husks and harvest humans to help create the Human Reaper

At Cerberus Headquarters, TIM says Harbinger knew more about the Citadel than Soverign. There is more than one Conduit and he found it. Vendetta will reveal that the Citadel was moved by Harbinger and taken it to Earth to complete the harvest

The confrontation between Shepard, Anderson and TIM happens but we know how TIM is on the Citadel and if you read my ending fix, you will know that Anderson would’ve went to the beam with Shepard and they are transported to the same place

Shepard will ask “Why didn’t Harbinger kill me?” “Because, we need you to understand and we need you to believe”

Same confrontation ends with either Shepard shooting TIM dead or TIM killing himself after Shepard uses paragon or renegade to reveal that Harbinger used him all his life

After Anderson passes. Harbinger “Assumes Control” over TIM’s dead body. Harbinger will explain the purpose of the Harvests. The explanation is the original ending of Dark energy. The Reapers as a whole were ‘nations’ of people who had fused together in the most horrific way possible to help find a way to stop the spread of the Dark Energy. The real reason for the Human Reaper was supposed to be the Reapers saving throw because they had run out of time. Humanity in Mass Effect is supposedly unique because of its genetic diversity and represented the universe’s best chance at stopping Dark Energy’s spread. We have a choice either Sacrifice humanity, allowing them to be horrifically processed in hopes that the end result will justify the means or use The Crucible to destroy The Reapers and find a way to stop the dark energy from spreading and it shows it is hopeful with a united galaxy. However, if we choose destroy, Harbinger will attempt to stop Shepard. A Reaperfied TIM appears and Shepard fights him, while The Normandy fights Harbinger. If we choose sacrifice humanity, Shepard will be the final catalyst to completing the Human Reaper.  But obviously no one will choose that choice as the entire point of the trilogy is to destroy The Reapers. So we get a hopeful ending. The united galaxy will work together to stop the spread of dark energy, as Hackett said “If we can put aside our grievances long enough to stop The Reapers, imagine what we can do together” 

There, I came up with a way to have the best of both worlds. Harbinger and The Illusive Man as the big bads. 

I also made The Reapers motivation to actually work. They are there to control the chaos. The harvests end with a creation of The Reaper and The Reapers are the pinnacle of evolution Harbinger’s speech at the end of ME2 was enough for a motivation. The Reapers are our salvation from the coming void. They want to ascend humanity to perfection. That makes complete sense and makes more sense than destroying everyone to save everyone????? WHo fucking wrote this Starchild garbage???

The point is, The Reapers and The Illusive Man could’ve worked as the big bads collectively together. 

[themetaphorgirl]

I asked for cute and cuddly things so I could write something adorable!! I tried to combine as many as possible!

@therestisconfettis​ : “the psolc babies making a pillow fort!!”

@birds-are-better-than-you​ : “My brain immediately goes to people actually listening to him talk instead of cutting him off, but thats just rooted in sadness”

@fragolinaa​ : “I just want people cuddling him, maybe someone who hasn't yet like Emily or Dave?”

@purpleturtle31extra : “Spending an off day exploring music together! Like showing him songs that remind you of him or a certain memory..”

anonymous: “cute cuddly idea: u mentioned Emily and Dave getting Spencer legos. Write a little thing of a rainy day or whatever and everyone’s just chilling building random shit with legos and then there’s gonna be Spencer actually building something with proper ratios and actual potential urban planning and everyone else is just like “hmm... I have built something vaguely resembling a plane”

anonymous: “omg cuddly mom alex?? maybe spencer napping with her and he has a nightmare??”

I hope I touched on everything!! I think I captured at least a little bit of everything!!!

----------

“Hey,” Emily said. “Are you feeling okay?”

Spencer dragged his fork around his plate, his chin resting heavily in his hand. “I’m not hungry,” he said dully.

“This is your last day to eat whatever you want,” she pointed out. “Go get something sugary. Donuts or something.”

He shrugged, and she bit back a sigh. Everyone else had left on Wednesday afternoon to spend Thanksgiving break with their respective families- literally everyone, even Hotch- and while they’d had a nice Thanksgiving at James’s house, and she was enjoying having her room all to herself, she and Spencer had been left behind, and the kid was moping like it was his job. She was starting to figure out that while he liked doing things on his own, he needed the security of knowing that everyone else was nearby.

“I guess I’ll go get some chocolate milk or something,” Spencer sighed, sliding down from his chair. 

“See? There you go,” she said. “Treat yourself.”

As soon as he slid down from his chair and trudged away she pulled out her phone.

the cause of hotchner’s headaches

9:09am

You guys need to help w the kid hes so sad i dont know what to do

James texted back first, which didn’t surprise her.

doctor james, medicine man

9:10am

Is he okay? 

the cause of hotchner’s headaches

9:10am

HES SAD I CANT HANDLE IT COME HELP ME

spaghetti grandpa

9:11am

He’ll be fine. He knows everybodys coming back today right?

the cause of hotchner’s headaches

9:12am

HE IS SAD NOW COME OVER

She set her phone aside as Spencer walked back up to the table with a carton of chocolate milk in his hands. “Can you open this for me, please?” he asked. 

She did and handed it back, but he didn’t drink it. “How about we go watch a movie or something?” she suggested. “While we’re waiting for everybody to get back on campus. That’ll be fun, right?”

He shrugged. “I guess,” he said. “What time is it?”

“A little after nine.”

He scrunched up his face, calculating. “Who do you think will be back first?” he asked.

“I don’t know, babe, we’ll have to see,” she said. “Drink your milk and we’ll get out of here.”

He sighed. “I don’t think I want it anymore,” he said. She shot him her best impression of Alex’s mom look. He rolled his eyes, but he drank it anyway.

Outside the dining hall it was cold and gray and dreary, rain falling just steadily enough to be irritating. She pulled the hood of her jacket over her head and made Spencer put his purple galaxy-print raincoat on over his his sweater before they walked down the steps. 

“Do you think the weather will ground planes?” he asked anxiously. 

“Your guess is as good as mine, squirt,” she said. “It’ll definitely rain all day, but I don’t know if it’ll affect planes. You’ll probably know better than me.”

He said nothing, but he slipped his small hand into hers. She squeezed back gently. The kid had been perfectly well-behaved the whole time she’d been left to watch him, but it was frustrating to see him so sad and quiet and droopy. She didn’t think it was possible to be homesick for other people, but Spencer definitely had a bad case of it.

They settled in the common room, but the cozy space seemed cavernous and empty without the rest of the group. Spencer left his coat and his shoes in his room and settled into Alex’s usual spot on the couch, leaning on the armrest. 

“So what do you want to do, kiddo?” she said. He raised and lowered one shoulder. She huffed. “I’ll just pick something then.”

“Nothing scary, please,” he said, his chin resting on his folded arms.

“No, don’t worry, I learned my lesson,” she said. She grabbed a Star Wars off the shelf- she wasn’t sure which one it was, but she figured she couldn’t go wrong with something sci fi.

“Hotch’s plane lands at eleven, right?” he said as she plunked down on the opposite end of the couch.

“I think so,” she said. She reached over and ruffled his hair lightly. “Stop overthinking, you’re going to blow a fuse in there. Everyone will be home soon, don’t worry about it.”

“I’m not worried,” he mumbled.

They got about halfway through Star Wars (she still wasn’t entirely sure which one it was) when they heard Dave and James on the stairs. “Hey, guys!” Dave called. “We’ve got presents!”

Emily paused the movie. “What do you mean, presents?” she said. “What’d you bring me?”

James and Dave each held large plastic tubs that they dropped with heavy clatters on the floor. “Spencer, you’ve been having fun with the legos we got you for your birthday, right?” James said.

Spencer raised his head. “Yeah,” he said slowly.

“Well, we decided to dig around for our old lego collections you can have your own giant collection,” Dave said. 

He slid off the couch. “Really?” he said.

“Yeah, absolutely,” James said. “Go get yours, we’ll put them all together.”

Spencer’s eyes lit up. “Okay!” he said, darting off to his room.

“Oh my god, thank goodness you two are here,” Emily said. 

“You know, you said he was sad, and I didn’t believe it till I saw him,” Dave said, wrenching the lid off the first bin. “He looks like a deflated balloon.”

“See? I wasn’t lying,” Emily said. “Poor kid has been moping all week.”

James checked his phone. “Hopefully everybody will get in without any problems,” he said. “Alex texted me a little bit ago and said they delayed her flight by an hour.” 

“Oh, yikes,” Emily said. “She’d better get back here soon. And don’t tell the kid that, he’ll worry more.”

Spencer ran back into the room with his legos. “How should I organize them?” he asked. “Color first or size first?”

“How about we, you know, build something?” Dave suggested as he sat down on the couch. “C’mere, passerotto, I think I have all the pieces to the batcave.”

“Ooh, which version?” James asked as Spencer sat down on the floor in front of Dave.

“I don’t know. I think I built it once when I was Spencer’s age and then never touched it again.”

Emily leaned over James and scooped up a handful of plastic pieces. “What are you going to build?” she asked.

“Hey, don’t copy me!”

They worked on their projects mostly in companionable silence, sometimes absent chatter. Rain continued to tap at the windows. At least Spencer seemed distracted at last, focused on his projects.

Lightning cracked, white light shining through the window for a brief moment, and everyone jumped; Spencer knocked over one of his structures. “Holy shit,” Emily said. “That was terrifying.”

“You okay?” Dave asked, touching Spencer’s arm lightly.

He nodded, leaning against Dave until he lifted him onto his lap. “Do you think everybody’s okay?” he asked. “Planes can’t always fly in this sort of weather.”

“I’m sure everybody’s fine,” Dave reassured him. Spencer bit his lip, still staring out the window. “So what have you been building?”

“Scale model of campus,” he said. “Well, it’s not exactly to scale. But it’s pretty close.”

James held up a lump of legos. “This was supposed to be a plane,” he said. “But it doesn’t look particularly aerodynamic.”

Spencer laughed. “What kind of plane is it supposed to be?” he asked. “It looks like an off-kilter Cessna.”

“I don’t know. Just...a plane,” James said. 

“I’m trying to see how tall I can build this thing without it falling over,” Emily said. “Not much success yet.”

“I’m sure you know, caro,” Dave said, poking Spencer lightly in the side. “How tall is the tallest lego structure ever?”

“The tallest one is in Milan, it’s a hundred and fourteen feet, eleven inches tall,” he said. “The previous tallest was just a hundred and fourteen feet tall, in Budapest.”

“Milan, hm?” Dave said. “Maybe I’ll go see it next time I’m over there.”

“There’s one in Tel Aviv that was built to be four feet taller but-”

Lightning cracked again and Spencer jumped. Dave rubbed his back lightly. “It’s okay, it’s just a bad storm,” he said. It was too late, though- the attempts at distraction had failed, and Spencer was clearly back to worrying, the corners of his mouth tugging down.

Dave looked over at Emily. What should we do? he mouthed. She shrugged helplessly.

Thankfully, right at that moment heavy footsteps echoed on the stairs. Spencer raised his head. Please let it be one of our group, please let it be one of our group, Emily thought fervently.

A tall figure in a rain-soaked coat made it to the top of the stairs, almost terrifying for a split second, but he threw back his hood and shook his head. “Jesus, that was a nightmare,” he said. 

Spencer scrambled to his feet and ran towards him, nearly kicking Dave in his haste. “Hotch!” he shrieked, throwing his arms around his waist.

“Hey, kiddo!” Hotch said, bending to hug him. “Hey, careful, it’s raining really hard out there, I’m drenched and I don’t want you to get wet.” 

“How was your flight?” James asked.

Spencer, undeterred, still clung to Hotch; Hotch ran his fingers through his thick short curls. “Unbelievably shitty,” he said. “Flights were getting canceled left and right, it’s just storming bad everywhere. If I hadn’t gotten such an early flight, I might not’ve made it back.”

“That’s what we’ve been worrying about,” Emily said. “And when I say we I mean Spencer.”

Hotch tugged him back so he could see his face. “Hey, stop worrying,” he said. “Everybody will get back eventually. I promise.” 

“I can’t help worrying,” Spencer said. “What if everybody’s flights get delayed? What if something happens to their planes. What if-”

Hotch scooped him up. “Hey, I think the dining hall’s open for lunch,” he said. “Anybody else hungry? I didn’t have time for breakfast before my flight and all they gave me was one packet of pretzels.”

“They stopped giving away peanuts because of allergies becoming more common,” Spencer said, leaning his cheek against Hotch’s shoulder even though his coat was soaked with rain.

“Yeah?” Hotch said. “How about you go get your coat and your shoes, okay? I’m starving.”

“Okay,” Spencer said reluctantly. Hotch set him back down on his feet and he ran down the hall to his room.

“I am so glad you’re back, Hotchner,” Emily said, sweeping her lego tower back into the bin. “He’s been so sad with everybody gone.”

“I can tell,” he said. “Has he been like this the whole time?”

“Oh, yeah,” Emily said. “I’ve barely been able to get two words out of him.”

“Even when they came over for Thanksgiving he wasn’t talking much,” James added.

Hotch sighed. “I didn’t even think about this,” he said. “Poor kid.”

Emily’s phone buzzed. “Oh, it’s Penelope,” she said. “I’ll put her on speaker. Hey, Pen, how’s it going?”

“Terrible!” Penelope said, her voice crackling over the line. “I made the flight from California to Texas for my layover, but they canceled my connecting flight. It’s storming too bad.”

“Oh, yikes,” Dave said. “Are you going to be okay?”

“Yeah, I’ll be fine,” she sighed. “They have me booked for a flight first thing in the morning, and the airline is putting me up in a hotel for the night, but it’s so frustrating.”

“I’m sure,” James said. “Stay safe, okay? Do you need anything?”

“Are you kidding? The hotel has like a million channels and room service, I’m doing great!” Penelope said. “I’ll call you guys in the morning before my flight, okay? Talk to you soon!”

Emily sighed as the call ended. “Well, that’s one down,” she said.

“Penelope’s not coming?”

Spencer peeked out of the hall, his rainboots on and his coat dragging from his hand. “Yeah, her connecting flight got canceled,” Dave said. “But she’s safe, and she’ll be on a flight tomorrow, okay? So don’t worry.”

Judging by the way he pressed his mouth together, he definitely was worried. Emily pushed herself up from the floor. “Let’s go get lunch, okay?” she said. “Before Hotch starves.”

The rain had gotten decidedly worse, coming down in heavy sheets and flooding patches of the courtyard. Her umbrella helped a little but not much; Dave complained loudly the entire walk over. Spencer stayed glued to Hotch’s side, clinging tightly to his hand even once they made it to the warm safety of the dining hall. 

Hotch pulled Spencer’s hood down as they got in line. “What do you want?” he asked. 

“I’m not hungry,” he said.

He frowned, then covered Spencer’s ears. “Emily, be honest,” he said. “Did he eat while we were gone?”

“Not for lack of trying,” she said. “I kept putting shit on his plate and he barely touched it.”

“Did he just eat ice cream and candy?”

“He didn’t even want sweets. Or coffee, even.”

Hotch’s frown deepened. “Well, shit,” he said. He dropped his hands to Spencer’s shoulders. “Okay, kid, you have to eat something. If you don’t pick, I’ll pick for you.”

Spencer shrugged. “That’s fine,” he said. 

Hotch met Emily’s gaze, eyebrows raised. “I told you,” she said. 

She followed Hotch down the cafeteria line as he filled up two plates. Spencer stayed so close he ran the risk of getting stepped on, his small hand clinging to the hem of Hotch’s jacket.

Dave and James had beaten them to their usual table, and neither of them looked particularly happy. “Bad news,” James said. “JJ just called. Her parents rescheduled her flight. They were worried about the storms, so she’ll be here tomorrow afternoon.”

Emily glanced over at Spencer. “But she’s okay?” he said anxiously.

“She’s fine, caro,” Dave said. “And she’ll be here tomorrow.”

“What about Derek and Alex?” he asked. “Have they called? Or texted.”

“Not yet,” James said. “Maybe they’re already on their flights, though. I”m sure we’ll hear from them soon.”

Hotch set the tray down on the table, then picked Spencer up and set him down in his chair. “They’ll be fine,” he said. “So how did Thanksgiving go for you guys?”

Even with their attempts at changing the subject and trying to draw him into the conversation, Spencer seemed to sink further into himself, his legs tucked up under him and his chin resting in his hand, his plate still mostly untouched. Emily couldn’t blame him for being sad. All week it had been just the two of them in the nearly-deserted dining hall, and even with the boys there it seemed wrong without the rest of the group- Penelope shrieking about something that didn’t need to be shrieked about, Derek regaling them with stories from football practice, JJ’s pretty laugh bubbling over, Alex keeping the peace and stopping cups and plates from getting knocked over and tilted onto the ground.

Hotch didn’t make much headway getting Spencer to eat, but at least he ate a little bit, and their little group braved the storm to get back to Lincoln House. “What have you guys been up to?” he asked as they settled in the common room again, coats and umbrellas hung up to dry.

“Legos,” James said. “This was supposed to be a plane.”

Hotch laughed. “Yikes,” he said. “I’m glad you’re not planning on going into engineering.”

“Yeah, probably for the best,” he said ruefully. “I-”

“Hold on, hold on,” Dave interrupted. “Did you guys see the group chat?”

Emily fumbled for her phone. “No, I didn’t, I...oh.”

“What’s wrong?” Hotch asked.

“Derek’s flight got canceled too,” James said. “He says it got delayed and he sat on the tarmac for three hours, but they pulled everybody off the plane. His mom’s already picked him up, so he’s fine.”

Emily glanced over at Spencer. He curled himself up smaller, his knees tucked up to his chest, chewing on his thumbnail. “But he’ll be here tomorrow?” he said. 

“Yeah, he’ll be here tomorrow,” Dave reassured him.

Spencer lifted his head. “Can we call Alex?” he asked quietly. 

“Yeah, of course,” Emily said, immediately pulling Alex’s contact info on the screen. “Here, kiddo. Just press-”

Lightning cracked, and with a sharp pop the common room went dark.

“Holy shit!” Emily shrieked, the phone falling from her hand.

“Did a fuse blow?” Dave said.

James got up and looked out the window. “Well, judging by the other buildings on campus...I think the power’s out everywhere,” he said.

“Well, fuck,” Hotch said.

Emily raised an eyebrow. “Watch your language!” she said in mock horror.

“Oh, shut up,” Hotch said good-naturedly. “Well, I guess we’ll just have to wait for the power to come back on. Spencer, do you want to go ahead and call Alex? She’ll probably be glad to miss the power outage.”

“I think the tower’s down too,” Spencer said in a small voice. “There’s no signal.” He held the phone back out to Emily. “Thanks anyway.”

She reached for the phone, and as the lock screen flickered she caught the faint mark of tears on his cheek. “Oh, no,” she said. “Oh, fuck. Spencer, don’t cry.”

“I’m not crying,” he said, but there was a distinct wobble in his voice.

“Spencer, it’s going to be okay,” Hotch said. “The power’s going to come back on, and everyone will be home soon.”

It was too dark to see, but she could hear Spencer sniffling in a valiant effort to keep form crying. “I know,” he said. “But I-”

Hotch picked Spencer up and placed him in Emily’s lap. “Stay here with Em for a second,” he said. “James, Dave, come with me.”

Spencer dropped his head against Emily’s collarbone as she wrapped her arms around him. “I’m sorry,” he mumbled.

“Don’t be sorry,” she said. “It’s been a rough week, dude. You didn’t get to go home and see your family, and you miss everybody. And you’re worried because of the storms. It makes sense.” She kissed the top of his head. “And now we’ve got all this power outage shit. But it’ll be okay.”

Hotch dumped an armload of stuff onto the nearest armchair. “Thank goodness for Penelope’s illegal candle stash,” he said. 

Emily twined one of Spencer’s short curls around her finger. “What’s with all of the pillows and blankets?” she asked.

In the dim light she could see Hotch grin. “We’re going to make a blanket fort,” he said. “C’mere, Spencer, I could use your brain for this.”

Emily set Spencer on his feet as James and Dave brought in their collections of pillows and blankets. She busied herself lighting candles and placing them in safe places around the room as Spencer directed the older boys in their construction. He seemed to perk up a little bit with something to focus on, especially as they let him be in charge.

“Okay, I’ve made some blanket forts in my day, but this one is pretty cool,” James said. 

“That’s because Penelope has about eight million blankets and they’re all soft as baby puppies,” Emily said as she crawled into the fort. “I claim the blue pillow!”

All five of them fit comfortably inside, the interior lit with a string of battery operated fairy lights, also taken from Penelope’s room. Spencer nestled himself between Hotch and Emily. “Are we going to tell Penelope that we borrowed all of her stuff?” he asked. 

Hotch handed him his favorite blanket. “I think if we leave the fort up till she gets back, she won’t mind as long as she gets to hang out in here,” he said. 

“What should we do?” Dave asked. “Power’s still out, and there’s no wifi either.”

“Oh!” Emily said. “Okay, I’ve been trying to get you to listen to this album for weeks. Now is the perfect time! You’re a captive audience.”

They took turns passing each other’s phones back and forth, listening to different songs in the comfort of the handmade blanket fort, playfully arguing over each other’s tastes in music as the warm glow of the fairy lights cast soft shadows. Spencer seemed a little less tense now, snuggled safely between Hotch and Emily with his blanket hugged to his chest.

She hadn’t kept track of time, but it was at least two hours before the power switched back on, the overhead lights suddenly way too bright after the dimmness of the tent. “There we go,” Dave said, sitting up and checking his phone. “And we’ve got signal again!” He stretched his arm over James and Emily to hold out the phone to Spencer. “Here, passerotto, see if you can call Alex.”

He took it eagerly and tapped at the screen to bring up her info, but his excitement faded almost instantly. “It went right to voicemail,” he said. “Thanks anyway.”

James scrambled ungracefully to his feet. “Hey, since the power’s back, who wants to watch a movie?” he said. 

“Not a Star War, please,” Emily called. “I can’t tell any of them apart.”

Hotch propped himself up on his elbow. “Hey, Spence,” he said. “It’s okay. I’m sure Alex is fine.”

“Yeah,” Spencer said. He turned to Hotch, one corner of his mouth tugging up in a rueful little half smile. “I bet her flight got canceled too. It’s okay.”

James flipped the overhead lights off, leaving them back in the glow of the candles and the string lights, and crawled back into the fort with the remote in his hand. “All right, if anyone has objections, y’all can get up yourself and change it,” he said.

Emily settled back as the movie started. Spencer was quiet beside her, but after a while he rolled over onto his stomach, his forehead pressed against Hotch’s arm and his blanket tangled around his legs, and she smiled when she heard his first little snore.

“Hotchner,” she whispered. “This blanket fort idea was genius.”

Hotch grinned. “Sean made me make one for him while I was home,” he said. “I figured Spencer might like it too.” He paused. “Is he asleep?” Emily nodded. “Thank god.”

James sat up and pushed his hair out of his eyes. “Guys, I still haven’t heard from Alex,” he said. “It’s still going right to voicemail when I call her and she hasn’t answered any texts.”

“Maybe her signal’s out too,” Dave said. “Don’t worry about it. Alex can take care of herself.”

James pouted. “Yeah, but...I might be a little worried about her,” he said. “It’s not like her to not answer.”

“Awww, you miss your girlfriend,” Emily teased. 

“I do! I do miss her!” James said. 

“Guys, if any of you wake up Spencer, I will murder you,” Hotch hissed. 

“I’m sorry!” James whispered back. “I just- I think I need to be worried about Alex.”

Suddenly a familiar person knelt down and leaned into the tent. “You’re worried about me?” Alex said, her long red hair hanging loose around her shoulders. “That’s so sweet!”

James scrambled up, smacking Dave in the face in his haste. “Oh my god, I missed you!” he said. He tugged her closer, cupping her face in his hands, and kissed her deeply. “Oh my god. Are you okay?”

“Yeah, I’m fine,” she laughed, running her fingers through his hair. “My phone died and I didn’t pack any of my portable chargers in my carryon. Where’s everybody else?”

“Everybody’s flights are delayed,” Emily said. “Spencer’s been beside himself.”

“Oh, poor thing,” she said. “Is he sleeping? I don’t want to wake him up.”

“Yeah, he just dozed off,” Hotch said. “He’s going to be so relieved to see you.”

Emily scooted over to make room. “C’mere, the movie hasn’t been on for very long,” she said. 

“Hey!” James protested. “She’s my girlfriend, shouldn’t she be next to me?”

“Well, she’s my roommate, and I’ve had her for longer,” Emily said. Alex laughed as she settled between her and Spencer, busying herself with snuggling him against her side and tucking him in. Emily leaned over to whisper in James’s ear. “Besides, we all know you two are gonna go fool around the second you get a chance. You’ll get your quality time, don’t worry.”

Even in the dim light she could see him turn red. “What are you guys whispering about?” Alex asked. 

“Nothing!” James squeaked. Emily made a rude hand gesture and he smacked her arm. “Emily! Stop it!”

She snickered as she leaned her head against Alex’s shoulder. “How was your week being in charge?” Alex asked as she adjusted Spencer’s blanket around him.

“Could have been worse...could have been a lot better,” Emily said. “He was so sad. I’m not good with sad kids.”

“I’m sure you did great,” Alex reassured her.

The movie was almost over when Spencer began to shift and whimper in his sleep. “Is he okay?” Emily asked.

“He’s-” Hotch winced as Spencer kicked him in the shins. “Ow. Bad dream, I think.”

Alex sat up. “Okay, I’m going to wake him up,” she said. 

“Careful, he can be pretty feisty,” Hotch warned.

Alex stroked his hair back from his forehead as he tried to pull away from her. “Spencer, wake up,” she called gently, her hand resting on his chest. “Come on, darling.”

She kept coaxing him until his eyes finally opened. “What’s going on?” he mumbled.

“You had a bad dream,” she said. 

He blinked. “Alex?” he said sleepily. “Did your plane land safely?”

Hotch laughed. “Yeah, kiddo, her plane landed safely,” he said. “Get the sleep out of your eyes.”

Spencer rubbed his face and blinked again. “Alex!” he yelped, throwing himself into her arms. 

“Hi, baby,” she said. “Did you miss me?”

“A little bit,” he said, tilting his face so she could kiss his cheek. “Was your flight okay? Was there a lot of turbulence?”

“Everything was fine,” she reassured him as she cuddled him against her side. “Now, sh, I think Dave is getting invested in the movie.”

“No, I’m not,” he said absently.

“Yes, he is,” Emily teased.

Spencer settled down with his head on Alex’s knees; Hotch tugged his blanket around him. “Everybody else will be here tomorrow,” he said. “Penelope’s connecting flight got canceled, and Derek’s got canceled, and JJ’s parents rescheduled her.”

“That’s good,” she said, stroking her fingers through his hair. “Go back to sleep, darling. You look so tired. And everything’s going to be okay, nothing to worry about.”

The rain had settled back into a light tapping on the window; the thunder and lightning had long since stopped. Emily leaned back against her pillows, smiling in contented relief. Alex was right. Everything was going to be okay.

[cartoonfangirl1218]

Sick Days

Obviously before Mon el admits his feelings.

So how do you feel?" Mon-el asked when he entered Kara's room.

"Sick, so so very sick. I want to die" Kara sniffled.

Mon-el patted her shoulder, and pulled the blanket over her curled up body again.

"I hope Snapper undersdands. Ugh! I forgod to dell her!" Kara cried, she struggled to get up and rush to the phone but Mon el forced her to lie down again.

"It's okay. James already made an excuse as to why you're not going." Mon el assured her

"An excuse! Bud... I'm just sick, Dan excuse wilb ondly make id worsde." Kara whined as she tried to reach for the phone again.

"No it won't. We just told him that you have wild food poisoning and are throwing up as we speak. It sounds a lot better than just a cold."

"Jusb a cold. This a Krypdoniand cold, dose are mega worsde. It's den million colds at once." Kara groaned, swiveling her head dramatically. Then she sat up.

"Whab about you! Your fake job," She cried.

Mon-el brushed a stray hair out of her face, a smile creeping on his face as he looked at her. Even though her skin was ashen, her usually bouncy blonde curls were limp and stringy and her eyes were bloodshot and her nose was as stuffed up as a Build a Bear, she was cute.

She cared about his job, she cared what her boss would think. That was true determination and loyalty. Just generally niceness. That was Kara. She may be an alien, but she could fit as the girl next door any day of the week. She was just so optimistic and cheerful, it was one of the best things he liked about her.

In fact that was why he volunteered to help stay with her today. He didn't really know how to take care of a sick person but he googled it so it seemed easy.

Now Kara was a grown woman, but she was practically useless when she was sick, physically not able to get out of bed useless, and that usually put a damper on getting lunch herself or getting dress or getting tissues when she ran out.

Alex was going to do it, but once Mon-el heard he volunteered. And insisted that Alex go do her job and he would take care of her.

Lately Mon-el had been thinking a lot about Kara. A lot. She would creep up into his mind and random parts of the day even if she wasn't in the room.

He would stare at daffodils and think "Kara would love those. The first sign of spring. What did she call them? Oh right, cups of sunshine in bloom."

To a regular person that would be cheesy but that was just Kara.

He would watch tv shows and suddenly a particular line would pop up and he would be tempted to write it down so he could tell her later.

Yeah, he had to admit it. He got it bad for the Kryptonian.

But he couldn't admit it TO her.

She was just so strong and caring and yes, that might be her point of weakness. She would care too much. And when people fell in love, those feelings only amplify and then she would be protective of him this way and that and then there would be the whole "it's not you, it's my enemies." He was aware of the danger. It still didn't mean he could get over his feelings just like that.

Especially when she sounded like that.

"I'm gonna make you some food. You stay here and start getting better." Mon-el told her. Kara did what she was told and buried her head under the pillow without a second thought.

When Mon-el came back from the kitchen, Kara had fallen off the bed, and was staring dazedly at the wall.

"Mon-el. Fuddy ting. I can'd ged up." Kara said. He could swear the stuffiness was getting worse.

He placed the bowl of piping chicken soap on the dresser and swept her up in an army lift. He gently placed her into bed, rearranged the pillows, and pulled the blanket over her again, and made sure the tissue box was close by.

"Here some soup." He handed the bowl to her and she grinned happily.

"Danks" She took a slurp of it and spewed it across the bed, coughing violently.

"Sorry! I didn'd mean do!" Kara cried, she got off the bed and was about to start wiping the blanket when she dizzily fell again.

"Kara, you rest, I got it." Mon-el said, he lifted her again and walked her to the couch in the living room.

"Sorry," she muttered again.

"No it's not your fault. Your sick. Just relax, watch some tv"

He went back to the room, stripped the sheets and managed to wrangle up some new blankets in the back of her closet.

"Danks for all dis. Really. You could be doing domthing more udful or fun than be with me." Kara blew her nose in a tissue when he handed her the box

"It's my pleasure. You do so much for everyone, and for me. It's not a big deal to care for you" Mon el replied

"Dupergirl does do a lot of duff for everyone," Kara said.

"And Kara Danvers does too." Mon-el said as he sat next to her "She makes me happy, she brightens the workroom everyday and tries to see the best in things. I really like her."

Kara blushed, and hid her face behind her blanket. James froze, did he just admit his crush? More importantly, one of the most dreaded scenarios of this whole conversation was that she was just being Kara. She was nice to everyone including him. He was no different than Winn or Cat to her. Okay maybe he was step up from being Cat in her eyes but still.

"I really like you doo," Kara mumbled shyly. Mon el' heart skipped a beat.

Mon-el put his arm around her to adjust the blanket, and she leaned his head on his shoulder.

Soon she fell asleep but he just sat there contently and grinned like an idiot.

"She likes me. "Mon-el thought "She said she REALLY likes me. She'll probably be sick tomorrow so I should probably bring her daffodils just to cheer up. Oh and I could rent a movie. Has she seen that ER show yet? Oh and some super hot fudge. Yeah, tomorrow's sick is gonna be great!"

————————————————————————————————-

No way had Mon-el thought that in his days of taking care of a sick Kara that he would get sick himself.

But here he was, in bed, freezing, his throat burning me nose so clogged up that everything he said was filled with ds and his hearing felt like he was underwater the whole time.

In Daxam the closest thing to this was the daily headache of a hangover from the late night parties. In all honesty he was pretty sure his parents wouldn't allow him to be sick on account of being ruler and all that.

He wished he could just have those hangovers now. Actually he wished for some water because his threat was not only burning but felt like a little porcupine was scratching it as well.

Then he heard the door bell ring.

"Mon-el can I come in?" A sweet voice that reminded Mon el of a angel in his sick state.

"Yeuhh" Mon-el managed to cough out.

Kara walked in. Pristine and near as usual in her cardigan and glasses. Her hair perfectly curl and seemed so soft. Mon el really liked the smell of her hair. Well, if he could smell. He remembered what it smelled like though. Like fresh apples. Wholesome and good like Kara.

"Jew divil women. Jour are dill tryin' do kill me" Mon-el mock glared when he was seized by another harsh sneeze making his threat burn more.

Kara simply shook her head as she started to take out a soup container from her bag.

"We don't know how colds affects Dazims" Mon-el groaned "Dis could kill me."

"I'm here to make sure that doesn't happen." Kara said as she opened the container, "So I made this for you."

Mon-el gave hr an genuine smile. This was the Kara he admired. Someone so willing to do things for others from saving the world to giving soup to him.

Mon-el eagerly grabbed the container, but another sneeze took him and he spill some of the hot soup on his sweat pants.

Mon-el barely concealed how much he wanted to scream with what he hoped was a manly grunt.

"Oh oh I'll take care of that" Kara quickly grabbed the tissues and dabbed at the spill. "I'll just give it you."

Mon-el cocked his head questioningly until he realized that she meant to spoon feed him.

He didn't understand why he felt so nervous about it. Maybe it was the way Kara looked at him as she put the warm soup in his mouth. Caring, focused only on him wth those piercing, kind grey eyes.

"Tank you" he croaked

Kara put a finger to his lips and Mon-el noticed even though most of his senses were dulled he could feel how smooth her skin was.

"Rest your voice."

"Bud I like talkging with jew. Jour indersing,” He smiled.

Kara turned away but Mon-el could see her bite her lips as the end of her lip curled into a half-smile.

Mon-el smiled to himself. He still had his charm. Plus he had meant what he said. She was interesting. She was bubbly, and entertaining. But she also wasn't afraid to tell him he was wrong. While that was infuriating and annoying, it also intrigued him. Years of being with complimentary bimbos made him forget that some girls were headstrong.

And Kara was plenty headstrong. She had personality. That personality made her seem full of life and vigor. And he wanted to have her next to him and feel that vigor. She was so..so complex. As Supergirl she seemed industrictable, almost unattainable but here right now. She was pure and genuine. He wanted all of it.

"You're interesting too," Kara replied.

With those words, Mon-el felt like he had been given the greatest compliment. She thought he was interesting! No one at home ever thought he was interesting. Pretty, hot, fun usually came up. But interesting never.

Mon-el finished his soup so Kara started arranging his blankets, and started a movie. "Hope you don't mind, but I thought you need to see the greatest movie of all time."

"Stard Ward" Mon-el guessed. Winn kept going on and on about how awesome Star Wars was. And it was. It had so much action and drama and even some of the planets were realistic for a human movie.

"No." Kara chirped, “The Princess Bride. I think you'll really like Ingio."

Mon-el shrugged and settled closer to the blonde. He felt hotter with her body heat next to him. It was tempting to move away but he didn't want to. She may be hot as hell but her prescnce was also comforting and warm and soft.

Mon-el dazedly opened his eyes to see moon light streaming through his windows and that the night sky was alight with the flashing lights of buildings.

"Whad happened?"

Kara leaned over him, her blonde hair brushing against his cheek. "You conked out during the commercials and it's eleven."

"Oh sstorry?" Mon-el murmeered

"It's fine." Kara smiled at him, "We can see it another time. You looked cute asleep." Then she paused and blushed as if she hadn't meant to say that last part.

Mon-el was too happy about that to tease her. "Jou lookd cute lasd week doo."

Kara put her hand to his forehead and smiled at him once more. "You're less hot. So you're probably be better soon. And not going to die." Kara added

"Good." Mon-el said "But I'm glad jou were here with me if I did."

"Me too." Kara whispered softly, "I better go now. But I'll stop by tomorrow."

"Okday" Mon-el waved as Kara left his room.

He settled himself to sleeping position once more, utterly beaming with happiness at spending an afternoon with Kara and being called cute by Kara. Kara, Kara, Kara. That was all he could think of. He never felt this way about a women before. Then again, he never met a women like her before.

The door cracked open and Kara scutler back in adorably. "Sorry just wanted to make sure you had all the blankets on you. Okay, good. Sorry. Go back to sleep, I'll see you tomorrow."

Mon-el managed to wave goodbye as the mild manner reporter went away, "I'll be waiting."

[lyssismagical]

hello! do you take prompts? i really wanna read something where peter is quarantined with the starks and one day he’s on an online class and all of a sudden tony interrupts him with something and his classmates on the sceen are like :o

Oops sorry this took so long to write but here we are :) 

(TW Covid Mentions)

(Also @justme--emily wrote one with a similar prompt so go read that one too)

Peter drops his bag on the front porch, crossing his arms over his chest as he steps across the threshold into the cabin. This is the first time in the past year and a half that he’s been visiting the cabin that he hasn’t wanted to be here.

Happy hovers behind him, frown plastered on his face as he meets Tony’s worried gaze.

“You okay, kiddo?” Tony asks. He reaches out like he’s about to comfort his kid, but he stops short. “You should probably- Uh, wash off before I…”

Peter nods, offering a forced smile, not bothering to answer the question. He ducks down the hall towards his bedroom, once a guest bedroom but now adorned with Star Wars posters and littered in his things. It’s his in a way that he never thought would be allowed before the Snap when he used to pack all of his things up when he left the tower after ‘Training Weekends’ or ‘Internship Retreats.’

The word pandemic still rings in his head. A scary thing to be experiencing, even if he knows he’ll be perfectly safe living in the cabin, virtually in the middle of nowhere. Especially with Pepper, who’s a perfectionist and a clean person, paired with Tony’s concerning health detriments.

But May’s out there in Queens, alone, working as a nurse, and Peter’s upset. He doesn’t want her to be alone, he doesn’t want her to be in danger, he doesn’t want her to be put in the line of fire. But he knows this is what he does to her every day when he goes out as Spider-Man, throwing himself into dangerous situations and leaving her by herself to fret.

It’s fair, he knows that, and she’s the true hero, but he still hates that she’s out there by herself.

He stands in the shower for longer than he needs to, long since finished his washing to make sure he’s clean, even though he hasn’t seen anybody since the announcement of the pandemic, other than Happy. He wasn’t even allowed to hug May goodbye.

Eventually, though, he’s not allowed to continue his sulking, so he heads downstairs for lunch, even if he wants to hide away in his bed for the next few months.

“Peter!” Morgan shouts, racing up to him and throwing her arms around his hips. She’s grinning up at him, showing off one of her missing front teeth. “We missed you so, so, so, so much.”

“Wow, that’s a lot,” Peter says, half-heartedly, scooping her up into his arms and kissing the top of her head. He knows he’s not acting like himself, he sees it in the crease of Tony’s forehead and the pout that adorns Morgan’s face, but he’s tired and he doesn’t feel like putting in the effort of pretending.

It’s been a little while since schools were closed, so Peter already has plenty of homework stacked on his shoulders, along with MJ’s Academic Decathlon meets she insists still need to happen twice a week.

He tries not to let that show in his face when he offers a tired smile at Tony who leans forward to press a kiss to the kid’s forehead.

“I know this all sucks, and I know you’re worried about May, but it’s her turn to be the Parker Hero, alright? She’s going to be okay.”

“And if she’s not?” Peter asks because he knows he’s had to. It’s a painful reflection of the amount of loss he’s faced. “What then?”

“We’ll figure it out if it comes to it,” Pepper says. She, like everybody, looks tired and worry pinches her features.

Peter nods like this is all perfectly fine. Like he’s okay with sitting in the cabin day-in and day-out while May works tirelessly in the city.

“Think of it this way, by staying home and not Spider-Manning and following the rules like the rest of civilization, your aunt will have less people in the hospital with her and less chances of catching anything. Does that?”

Peter shrugs, slipping down into one of the kitchen chairs. “Sure… I’m fine. I’m just tired. I wanna sleep for a thousand years.”

“May sent me a general idea of what your schedule was looking like, and as much as I condone healthy sleeping schedules, you have a Decathlon meeting in a few hours.” Pepper casts a glance at the obvious circles under Peter’s eyes. “But after that, you can sleep through the rest of the day. You deserve it.”

Tony serves up some breakfast for them. Blueberry pancakes after Morgan had demanded a special breakfast for Peter’s arrival.

And it makes Peter feel a lot better already.

Tony makes stupid dad jokes that make Morgan crack up in hysterical giggles, especially when Peter rolls his eyes overdramatically as they get worse and worse. And Pepper playfully scolds them for making a mess with the syrup which makes Peter ‘accidentally’ pour too much syrup on his plate which makes Morgan almost fall out of her chair she laughs so hard.

And Morgan’s laughter is infectious. Peter finds himself laughing along, tired smile slowly becoming his regular grin.

After breakfast, Peter calls May and talks to her on the phone about how work’s going and about the Stark Family. He promises to call her every day around the same time to check in, and she promises to pick up as often as she can.

And then he makes sure Pepper knows he’ll be attending his Academic Decathlon call in his bedroom, so if she could keep Morgan busy, that’d be for the best. There’s something quietly alight in her smile when he says his bedroom.

It’s nice to see his friends again, even through the screen.

Ned, MJ, Betty, Cindy, Abe, Zach, Flash, and Brad are all there on the screen, grinning back at them like they’re just as excited to see all the little pixelated faces.

It’s so different to see everybody in their pajamas, or at least sweatpants and old hoodies, hair messily uncared for. Even Flash’s hair is sticking up in a bedhead way and he’s obviously sitting in his bed, not even bothering to drag himself to a desk for the call.

“You know it’s eleven, right?” Ned whined. “I was planning on sleeping in until at least two. How do you look put together, Peter? That’s literally so unfair.”

“I haven’t slept yet,” Peter admits, laughing a little too carefree. “Oops?”

MJ rolls her eyes, something Peter didn’t realize how much he’d been looking forward to seeing, and she quickly pulls the meeting back on track, pulling out her hefty stack of cue cards to quiz them.

Eventually, an hour or two later, there’s a knock on Peter’s door and Tony pokes his head in.

“Sorry to interrupt, kiddo,” he says, a warm smile on his face. He holds out a Hello Kitty mug. “I made you some coffee. May said you’ve finally caved and joined the coffee-drinkers.”

Peter grins, gratefully accepting the warm mug and holding it to his chest. “Thanks, Tony.”

“Holy shit,” Flash says.

“Mister Stark!” Ned waves exaggeratedly.

Tony smiles, waving back at the screen. He looks like a real dad standing in Peter’s doorway in his sweatpants and an old, fraying MIT sweatshirt, hair messy and smiling proudly.

Peter winces, though, hoping this isn’t about to wildly throw his life off course.

“You actually knew Tony freaking Stark,” Flash says, eyes wide in the screen. He shoves a hand through his hair in a poor attempt to flatten it.

“I told you I did. Not my fault you didn’t believe me,” Peter says, shrugging. He turns back to Tony. “Thanks for the coffee. I should be done in a bit.”

“Have fun, kiddo. I’ll have lunch ready for you when you’re done.” He pulls the door shut behind him as he leaves.

Everyone on the screen has matching expressions of dropped jaws and wide eyes, other than Ned who’s grinning mischievously and MJ who just looks bored.  

“I can’t believe you were telling the truth this whole time,” Cindy says, followed by Betty’s, “I mostly believed you because I saw you with the new Starkphone, but you’re actually living with Iron Man.”

“Oh my god,” Flash says.

Peter shrugs. “Yeah. He’s nice and all, but he spent nearly an hour telling the worst dad jokes I’ve ever heard, so don’t let him fool you with the whole cool-guy persona he puts on for the public.”

Nothing’s really right in the world, but Peter’s always been the kind of person to find the good pieces of the bad. He’s got the Starks to keep him company and to help him out with everything, Tony’s a pretty good cook, Morgan’s the greatest little sister the world could ask for, and he’s got his friends, just a phone call away to make his anxieties fade even just a little.

Taglist: @littlemissagrafina  @spideygirl2003 @romeoandjulietyouwish @c-artara @shadedrose01 @likeaphoenix13 @tonystarkweneedyou {Let me know if you want to be added or removed}

[astringofmadhousefloozies]

Sardines, or Professor Vargas is an Asshole

Another fic from someone who’s only half-read everything. Told in second person, starring a female Yuu.

Content warnings for coarse language, kidnapping, sexual harassment along the lines of Vargas being similar to Gaston, and being deeply, direly self indulgent.

As always, please let me know if you enjoyed it, I live and breathe for positive feedback.

You do not like Professor Vargas, and the feeling is mutual.

It wasn't like the almost amiable vitriol between you and Schonheit, which, while having its ups and downs, was usually at a level of shooting a few insults at each other in between whatever dorm prefect business had you talking to each other, and parting ways with a hair flip on his part and a rude hand guesture on yours. And hell, the other teachers seemed almost fond of you. Trein appreciated you passion for history, even if annoyed at your preference for layman-oriented literature, and would let you sound off about whatever strange bit of lore you'd recently found out, and even once down and listened very patiently as you tried to explain who Emperor Norton was before he said you needed to leave so he could mark papers. Crewel and you had reached an uneasy truce where he did not call you a puppy, and you did not start going "what happens when these go together" in potions class every time he called you that in protest. (You may be a bitch, but he certainly isn't allowed to imply it, even in the most roundabout of ways.)

But Vargas. Vargas hates your soft belly, your unwillingness to push yourself to the point of exhaustion, and most of all, he really, really hates that you're a girl that won't throw herself at his feet. You were trundling along at a swift walking pace on a broom, a mere few feet off the ground, when he stopped yelling at your classmates to pick on you instead.

"Too weak to do better than that?"

"I'm not magic. That I can do this at all is impressive." You're pointedly looking ahead, not looking at him jogging up beside you.

"You can go higher!"

"Professor," you say with barely contained irritation, "I am a beginner, and would much rather have the basics down before I attempt to turn myself into a fine paté from a hundred feet up."

He snorted. "Ashengrotto goes high; you can too."

"Azul's damn near in tears by the time he comes down because he didn't even have legs before a few years ago. He's not a good example."

Vargas, being a wretched asshole who should not be allowed to teach, instead tipped the end of your broom up. Only the broom shot into the air, you merely went ass-over-teakettle onto the grass, and stayed there because if you got up you would attempt to bite his nose clean off.

"Such poor balance! But I can fix that with some private lessons!" Oh, Christ. "You come by here after dark, I know all about teaching a girl how to ride -”

At that, you kicked him in the shin, and while he started back in pain, you shot up and started walking off the field, vibrating with the strength of your disgust.

"You can't hit a teacher! You'll regret this you stupid-" And you've picked up to a jog, because fuck if you were going to listen to that piece of shit try and pick up one of his own fucking students, what the actual fuck.

~*~*~*~

You relayed this whole mess across the supper table, afterwards, and your host was just as grossed out as you were.

"Keep an eye out next class," Azul said to you. "He holds a grudge."

"First hand knowledge?”

His silence was telling.

"You think I could get an exemption? Or like, permission to do a treadmill when everyone's out on a broom?"

"Who do you think you have to ask about all fitness-related things?" Azul had a faraway look that recalled war films. "It's not going to work.”

"What if I start skipping class?"

He gave you a look that could wither an evergreen. "Don't you dare, or he'll start picking on me again."

You shrugged. "Aight. I got three days to figure out what to do, then. You got any ideas?”

He folded his hands and rested his head upon them. "What would you pay?"

"No."

"Come on."

"What do I even have that you want?"

"I can think of a few things. The wave in your hair, or the gleam off your teeth."

"Because you need more curl to your hair."

"Someone might want to contract me for them."

"No. I got three days, Azul, we don't have to resort to your contracts.”

As it turned out, you did not have three days.

~*~*~*~

The next day's gym class was a motley bunch. Idia couldn't miss any more gym days this month, Lilia was doing his stretches, Floyd was... being Floyd, resulting in everyone who wasn't Rook giving him a wide berth, and Leona appeared to be skipping class and was therefore not present for the upcoming bullshit.

"Sorry I'm late!" Cater jogged in, cheery as sunshine though the clouds, and Idia rolled his eyes so hard it was a miracle they didn't strain. "Laps today?"

"Vargas said we're doing Capture the Flag. Dunno how the teams'll go." Lilia was doing something complicated with his hands as he stretched his arms. "Kingscholar's absent, so they'll be uneven. And," he thumbed over at Rook, who was looking into the forest with the coiled intensity of a greyhound waiting for the rabbit to spring, "he's got an advantage, he knows the woods best."

"Yeah, but I've got unlimited data and a GPS." Cater patted his chest with a smile, the outline if his phone visibly through a pocket.

"Can't count on that for everything."

"Alright students!" yelled Vargas, strolling out of the woods with a bruise purpling one cheek. "Capture the Flag today. Use your brooms to navigate the forest, grab the flag, whoever brings it back gets the flag as a prize."

"It's in the forest, hanging from a pole in a clearing, you cannot miss it! All in white, too..." The professor brought up a little screen, showing off a live feed of his flag.

The flag, of course, was you, trussed up with rope and you legs hanging freely, still in last night's sleep shirt. Your voice came out, tinny from the speakers: "I did not consent to this, asshole."

The students were torn between looking at Vargas in shock, looking at the phone in shock, and muttering between themselves.

"Don't forget to have all the fun you want with the flag before you bring it back to me! When else will you get the chance?"

This just had everyone looking at each other with shifty-eyed suspicion.

"Every man for himself! Go get your prize!"

~*~*~*~

Vargas couldn't rig worth a damn. You're twenty feet in the air with just one rope suspending you, tied at the base with a simple knot. Everything hurt from chafing, you were cold, and you couldn't help but worry over what the hell was going to happen, depending on who found you. Vil still hadn't forgiven you for projecting a gorefest of a film across the walls of Pomefiore, so he might leave you to rot or use the situation to put a particularly vicious curse on you. Idia would probably drop dead of exhaustion after reaching you, leaving you both stuck. Floyd, well. As much as you enjoyed his company, it was like hand feeding a pet tiger; eventually he'll decide your hands tastes better, it's just a matter of when. You're running the numbers on most likely scenarios based on who shows up, when some twigs snap by the meadow's edge and you look towards a small "Hi."

Little ears! Little hands! Little all over, and looking up at you with curiousity as his tail swished. Chen'ya? No, no, other Ch- name. "Cheka! Hi, sweetie, honey, baby, can you get me down?" You'd already been here an hour and your hands were nothing but tingles.

"... Okay! Why're you up there?"

"Bad man," you say as he starts to tug at the rope. "You got it?"

He shook his head. "It's hard."

"Can you go get help, honey? Bring them back to get me down?"

He nodded. This was a big boy job, he could do it. "I'll get Uncle Leona."

Please don't, you thought to yourself, but instead said "Okay, please be quick, Cheka."

He started off towards the school, and you could have sworn he vanished before he actually hit the treeline.

~*~*~*~

He was only gone for a few minutes before you realized that you were starting to move. Turns out Cheka, despite being so small, had pulled enough at the rope before he left that the knot was unraveling.

"Oh shi-" is as far as you got before you're in freefall, and you yelped as you hit the ground feet first, wheezing. Fuck. You can barely move to survey the damage, because a certain asshole had put your hands behind your back, and every move made your ankles wail in pain. The only saving grace was that the ground was soft.

At least someone had landed by you, looking you up and down.

"... Hi, Yuu."

"... Hi, Lil."

Lilia pointed up. "You're supposed to be up there."

"Vargas was too busy trying to get upskirts to secure a fucking knot, apparently." You wince as he worked at the ropes. "My feet?"

"On the right way." You gritted your teeth and hissed as he prodded at them. "Both badly sprained, left worse than right. You're not walking out of here."

"Figured." You sat up and held your arms out. "Come on, old man, you're stronger than you look."

He was, but was too small to leverage you correctly.

"Can't you fly?"

"Yes," He said as he tried to balance you on the broom. 

"Then carry me.”

"You want me to drop you?"

"Nope."

"Do we just wait for the others?"

As if on cue, you heard distant yelling and what was maybe an explosion.  

"Yeah." Lil brightened, and snapped his fingers. "I saw a place, hold on."

Said place was either a nice treehouse or an okay deer blind, wide enough in the floor that you could lay flat out as he surveyed the damage. "This should be a good place."

"What the hell is going on out there?”

"Everyone's looking for you." Lil's settled crosslegged, with an amused smile. "Vargas said you're the prize, so everyone's trying to get here first. Isn't it good I found you? Who knows what they're planning."

You set your arm over your eyes and sighed. "Brave words from someone who's broken into my room more than once."

He shrugged. "You need looking after."

"De-organizing my things isn't looking after, you damned goblin."

He bristled. "I'm not a goblin."

"What is a goblin, Lilia."

"Small little fae who like to cause trouble."

"Exactly."

You couldn't see it, but you could feel the eye-roll.

~*~*~*~

It was five minutes at the most after that before Rook climbed in the door, looking so fresh-faced and joyful to see you it made you want to swat him. "Bonjour, my Trickster! You're living up to your name, hidden away!"

"Salut, Rook." You squinted at him. "You have first aid anything?"

"Hm," He said, prodding at your calf. "I have water, but these need wrapped."

"Give." Lilia took a sip of water before passing it to you. "The uniform denim won't tear easily-”

"Oh, we use this."

"Oh no you do not," You said as you tugged the hem of your sleep shirt from his hand. "No one here gets to see my underwear."

"I don't care about your panties, I care about this," he said as he brushed an ankle, making you jerk back. "It'll get worse if they aren't wrapped. There is fabric to spare.”

You huffed before you told him not to mention it to Vil, and between him and Lilia, you had two wrapped ankles and a dangerously short hemline. At least you'd actually put underwear on before Vargas decided to kidnap you, otherwise this would be a whole other level of distressing.

~*~*~*~

"You have a phone?"

Lilia pulled his from a hidden pocket. "You want to play Sweetie Scrunch?"

"No," You say as you take it from him and start flipping through his contacts. "I'm calling help."

It took him a whole three seconds before he realized who help was. "... Nope, nope, you're not getting Malleus involved, he will eat Vargas alive, we are not causing an international incident."

"Would you rather he find out after? And he knows how to heal." You'd already texted him a brief explanation one handed, the other keeping Lilia away.

"She is not wrong, monsieur... And it would be a delight to see him raise hell."

"See?" You gave Lilia a smile that would be very sweet if it wasn't full of the devil. "C'est bon."

~*~*~*~

Mal hurtled through the window so fast it was a miracle he didn't go clean through the far wall, before he was on top of you, fussing over his precious Child of Man.

"Mal, I am fine, please fix my -"

"Dreadful, simply dreadful." He was already working a prickly green light around your bruises. "And he did that, too?" he growled as he guestured to your ragged hemline."

"No, we did that to wrap my ankles. As much as I'd love to see it, we do not need to turn Vargas into - Mal. Mal. Put your clothing back-" He'd already managed to wrap you up in his green-trimmed uniform coat. "You don't have to do that."

"Yes I do." He already had you cradled in his lap, both arms around you in a vice grip. "You won't heal immediately, I must keep you safe until then.”

Lilia raised an eyebrow at him, but said nothing. You were about to ask, before a dreadful wheezing started up from outside, and familiar pale hands had the bottom of the doorframe in a vice grip. "Help."

"Shit, Idia! Get him in here before he falls!"

~*~*~*~

Idia looked downright grey in your arms as you tried to get him to drink some water. For someone who had the physical fortitude of an overboiled noodle, he'd pushed himself to his limits looking for you, and then some.

"You're okay? Full health?" Idia sounded horribly raspy, and you fussed over his scrapes as you picked half-charred twigs from his hair. He was too tired to protest you holding onto him in much the same manner Malleus was holding onto you.

"Bout three-quarters. Fifty before Mal got here." Idia's eyes flicked to just behind your left ear before he shrank back.

You turned your head around, and Mal gave you his sweetest you're-my-best-friend smile. You looked back at Idia, who was attempting to shrink into something microscopic, and then back at Mal.

"Play nice. He's my friend too." 

Mal turned his face as innocent as he could muster. "Whatever do you mean, my friend?"

"You know what I mean."

"I do not." He wasn't looking at your face anymore.

"Yes you do. And he's you're friend too-"

Idia raised one hand tentatively. "We only play Dragon-Kun with each other."

You guestured down at Idia, still looking at Mal, looking anywhere but you. "You love your Dragon-kun. And maybe," you say as you nudge Malleus's cheek, "If you made more friends than me, you wouldn't have to be jealous when I have other friends?"

Mal's pupils were so narrow as to be barely visible when he glanced out of the corner of his eye at you, but he nodded, and mumbled a very quiet apology as Idia faintly relaxed.

"Impressive. I haven't been able to do that in years."

"That's because you're his dad."

"Do you think anyone else will show up, my Trickster? It's getting cramped in here."

You looked around and considered. "I mean, probably."

~*~*~*~

"Sevens?"

"Go fish."

"And that's when they added a dance emote, but it cause a glitch so the top half of your body started to spin around while the bottom half went normally, which would be okay, but if you collide with a wall then you clip about a mile above the ground and die from fall damage, and when they went to fix that -"

There were eight people in the treehouse, and no room for more. Mal had you in his lap in a corner. Idia was gesticulating wildly as he talked about what you were sure was this universe's version of Fallout 76, tucked against you at an angle. Floyd insisted on you using his lap as a footrest while he, Lilia and Cater played card games with an ancient deck Lilia had produced from another pocket. (You were not certain that Floyd's guesture was innocent, since he kept poking at your toes until you said you'd take them away if he didn't stop.) Rook was skipping this round to keep an eye out the window. There was maybe a half foot total of floor showing. Despite the magic fired and fists swung earlier, as soon as everyone had realized that no one was running to your rescue simply to perform their own indignities, everyone had relaxed.

Overall, it was very cozy, and as long as you could keep Idia talking instead of realizing he was crammed in a tiny room with a whole bunch of people, you could stay here quite comfortably for ages. Your ankles were currently only sore, with twinges of more, no one was at each other's throats, and as long as no one else fucked shit up, you could wait out Vargas, go home, and think about how in the hell you can report a teacher at this school for harassment.

"Trouble's coming."

Ah, shit.

Trouble, unfortunately, had figured out where they were due to the cluster of broomsticks at the base of the tree, flew to the window, and started spewing bullshit.

"What are you all doing? You abandoned the game," and here he guestured towards you, "and didn't come back with the prize. None of you would know what to do with a girl if she begged you!"

What a piece of shit, and he couldn't even read a room with eight sets of eyes glaring murder at him. He was still talking, but you weren't paying attention. Instead, you drained the last of the water, wiped your mouth on your arm, and took a deep breath.

"Get his ass."

~*~*~*~

Everyone scattered after that, not ready to deal with the consequences of ganging up on their teacher, even if he thoroughly deserved it. Everything will be dealt with tomorrow, when you can put weight on your legs without your knees buckling. Mal was walking you out of the woods personally in a princess carry, when he stopped in place.

"See, she's down, you didn't have to bug me."

You'd completely forgotten that Cheka had gone to bug Leona for help. "It's been hours."

He ignored that. "Draconia. What would your grandma say?"

"Mal-"

"I would hope she would be proud of my helping a friend." He held his head high, and brushed by Leona without another word.

"Bye!"

"Bye Cheka." You waved back at Cheka before the two lions were out of sight.

~*~*~*~

"Mal, you know you could just take me to my dorm, right?"

"Someone should keep an eye on you until you are fully healed," he said as he pulled out a pair of silk pajamas.

"Which you could do at my dorm, instead of." You guestured to the hangings on his bed. "Here."

"It's far more comfortable here than your dorm."

"I'm not kicking you out of your bed, Mal."

"You're not in a state to argue." He set the pajamas beside you, before turning to face the wall.

"About that."

He did not move a muscle.

"I'm surprised you didn't just heal them outright."

Silence.

"I know perfectly well that you can. So why didn't you?"

He still said nothing.

"Be that way, Malleus. But you know that's not okay." You flung the remains of your shirt at him, managing to catch it on one horn. "If you want me to stay over, just say that instead of conspiring to keep me dependent for an evening."

He turned, pulling the cloth from his horns, before his eyes nearly popped from his head and he hurriedly turned back to the wall. "I... am not used to this."

"Neither am I. We're going to have to have a little talk about boundaries and healthy friendships. You can turn around now."

He did, you patted the side of his bed, and he joined you.

"How do you want to do this, Mal."

"I do not."

"Tough titty, said the kitty."

He raised an eyebrow.

"I know I'm the first real friend you've had. I've been on both ends of that. You know what happens when you cling real fucking hard to your friend, and try to isolate them because you don't wanna share?"

His face was a practiced mask of emotionlessness. "What is that?"

"They suffocate, and draw away because the intensity is way too much. And then no one's happy."

Mal frowned, but said nothing.

"I do want to be your friend. I like you. You're funny, you're deeply sincere, and you're still the same person I knew when I just called you Horned Boy. But I will cut this off if you try to isolate me. I do not want to, but I will have to. If you can't play nice with others, you don't get to play with me at all."

He's so clearly trying to hide his distress and irritation, but he could not help a sigh. "You are not wrong, Child of Man. And..." He looked away. "You won't live forever. Or be here forever, at that."

"I will not. You won't either, but like, you'll outlive me. Eggs in one basket, and all. Another reason to attempt to make more friends."

"Hm." He stretched out beside you, staring at the ceiling. "With who should I start? My reputation precedes me."

"Well," you smiled, "If I've learned one thing, forced proximity does wonders with forcing Idia to like you, and he's already somewhat used to you."

He smiled at the ceiling. "I do like him."

"Me too. You'd like his little brother."

"The creation?”

"Yeah. Look, I'll network for you with other people. And I'll make sure to invite you places."

"A promise?"

"Of course. Now, are you going to take me home, or put up with the rumours of keeping me in your room all night after beating up Vargas to get at me?"

"... Oh dear."

"Yeah."

After a moment, "... I am alright with the rumours."

You snorted. "You could just ask for a sleepover next time. Don't wait for an injury."

"I will ask."

"Make sure Sebek doesn't eat me in the morning."

"I would like to see him try." He gripped your closest hand and squeezed it.

"Me too."

You lay there a few moments, scary lonely dragon boy and strange lonely human kid, hand in hand.

"Do you have any tales from your home you could tell me?"

"Mostly ones you already kind of know."

"I would still like to hear."

Even a dragon wants a bedtime story, it seems.

[silent-silver-slip]

hey! could i request a oneshot of Reggie finding out that someone launched garlic bread into space and then ate it +him freaking out to someone about it

Okay so it might've taken me some time to get around to this. But! It's done! Thank you so much for sending this through by the way, I had a field day writing it.

For those of you confused, the garlic bread thing is from this video. Below the line is the writing, but you can also find it here on ao3.

It starts, as many things do in the Molina house, with Carlos. But what happens, unlike many things in the Molina house, cannot be linked to Carlos. Rather, it’s Reggie’s fault. Although Reggie would like to argue otherwise!

After all, it’s not Reggie’s fault that Carlos’ iPad was open to YouTube when he was bored. And he certainly can’t be blamed for scrolling through YouTube. Everyone knows that an unlocked phone is a sign that it should-be-used. Which means that Reggie isn’t in the wrong when he clicks on a YouTube video called ‘We Sent Garlic Bread to the Edge of Space, Then Ate It’.

He’s not entirely sure what he expects the five minute and twenty-three second video to show him, but it’s certainly not what he receives.

(A series of things Reggie says while watching: ‘Facts!’ when the deliciousness of garlic bread is acknowledged; ‘Rude! I can’t believe I didn’t know about this’ when he learns that pizza has already been sent to the edge of space; ‘This is making me dizzy’ when the camera appears to spin around; and ‘Oh, they’re like storm chasers but BREAD chasers!’ when the crew have to chase the garlic bread to find it when it lands.)

At last, the video comes to an end and, as Reggie sits and dwells on the wonder that is life, the iPad goes black. “Nooo,” Reggie whines. The iPad, cold and unfeeling object that is, doesn’t respond to his cries and remains black.

Reggie pouts at it. It doesn’t respond to that either. “Fine,” Reggie says. “I’m going to go talk to someone who actually responds to me.” Having gotten the last word, Reggie poofs to wherever his bandmates are.

His bandmates aren’t together, but he does poof to where Luke is on the pier. Luke is sitting with his legs hanging off the side, the water below rippling with small waves. Unsurprisingly, Luke has his guitar in his hands and is strumming it absent mindfully.

This close to Luke, Reggie’s connection with his bandmate is distant—which, really, one would think the opposite thing would happen. However, it turns out that the further away Reggie is from his bandmates, the easier it is to sense where they are and whether they’re happy or not. It’s impossible to tell anything more than that, but it’s just another one of their weird ghost powers.

“Hey Regs,” Luke says, smiling upon seeing him. “I thought you were hanging out back at the house?”

Grinning, Reggie says, “I learnt something!” Then, pausing, he tries to sense where Alex is. He doesn’t know how he can tell that it’s Alex, but it feels like big hoodies, like comforting hugs, like something steady thrumming through his body. It’s different to how Luke feels, because Luke feels like shoulders knocking together, like hot drinks, like singing songs at the top of your lungs driving down the highway.

“Let me get Alex,” Reggie says. He tugs on the connection between them, winding it around his fingers and then pulling.

Alex appears in a poof, anxiety lining his face, before he relaxes upon seeing them. Then, he crosses his arms, “What d’you want?” He asks, tone long-suffering. Reggie grins at him, bouncing forward and pauses on his toes just in front of Alex, waiting.

With a sigh, Alex opens his arms and Reggie immediately fits his arms around Alex’s waist and lifts his bandmate off his feet, spinning him around. Against his will, Alex laughs, and when Reggie lets him go, his bandmate drops an arm around his shoulder, tugging him close to his side. “Love you,” Reggie says. Then, remembering why he’d gone to find his bandmates in the first place, he glances over at Luke who’s watching him with a content smile. “Do you guys wanna learn what I learnt today?”

“Is there a new Star Wars thing coming out?” Luke asks.

Shaking his head, Reggie laughs. “No, but that’d be pretty awesome! Guess again.”

This time Alex guesses. “They discovered an ancient pizza and then ate it?” When the others look at him, he shrugs. “It’s possible!”

“I feel like I should question that but I really don’t know enough to do so,” Luke says. “Were either of us correct?” He asks, directing his question to Reggie as he gets up, guitar disappearing without a gesture.

“Nope!” Now that Luke’s standing it’s all too easy for Reggie to throw himself forward. Luke stumbles, almost toppling backwards into the ocean, and Reggie’s laughing as Luke steadies them, squeezing tight. “It was something I saw on Carlos’ iPad!”

“Let’s not fall into the ocean today,” Luke says as they step apart. “I don’t particularly feel like going swimming today.”

“Alright,” Reggie says and between one blink and the next, he poofs them onto a wooden platform that sits facing the beach and ocean. They’re lucky enough that they don’t poof into people—which is never a fun experience, especially when you’re not prepared for it.

Alex sighs in response to the change in position and Luke punches him in the shoulder, but neither of them complain much, which gives Reggie the perfect chance to finally talk about the video he saw. “It was a video,” Reggie drags the word out, winking subtly at Alex. Of course, Alex wouldn’t know subtly if it hit him so it takes another few seconds before he realises what Reggie wants and begins drumming on his legs, “about space!”

The drumroll from Alex stops and silence is the only response Reggie gets. He frowns at his bandmates. What kind of response is this? Space is the coolest!

“Well?” Luke demands, “Are you going to tell us about it or keep us waiting?”

Oh, Reggie realises. His bandmates were just waiting for him to continue. Of course.

“Right so, these people sent garlic bread to the edge of space and then ate it!”

“I’m sorry, they what?!” Alex’s shout of surprise has Reggie cackling. “That’s- That’s-” Alex’s stuttering also sends Luke into a burst of laughter. In the end, Alex throws his hands up in the air and seems to give up.

“Yeah!” Reggie agrees. “And I get it y’know, garlic bread is the food of the gods-”

“No… No, I’m pretty sure that’s ambrosia,” Luke says. “Like… eighty percent sure it’s ambrosia.”

“Psh,” Reggie waves his hand. “Not important. But! They sent garlic bread into space and then ate it, and you know what they haven’t done?”

“Sent pizza?” Both Alex and Luke speak at the same time, then exchange an identical look of surprise. Reggie laughs at them. They know him too well.

Swinging his legs, Reggie says, “They’ve done that! But no! They haven’t thought about me! About us! Why aren’t they making ghost garlic bread? Huh? Where’s my ghost garlic bread? Or- Or ghost pizza! Alex, why hasn’t Willie shown us where they keep the ghost pizza? Why has the world abandoned us like this?”

Luke pets his leg. “Clearly we’ve got to do this ourselves,” he says.

Horrified, Alex says, “No,” but his voice is lost to the sea wind and Reggie meets Luke’s gaze. Luke is grinning, a wide thing that tells of trouble and the best times.

“Yes,” Luke counters. “C’mon Al, you know you want to.”

“The last time you tried to cook, you started a fire!”

Luke shrugs. “It was a small fire and Reggie had it handled.” Reggie nods in agreement. Fires are kind of his thing. Starting them. Making them bigger. Extinguishing them. Really, he’s the superhero of fires. Or something. He’s not entirely sure where he was going with that.

“We can’t eat!” Alex says which, well, that’s a good point.

Too bad Reggie was ready for it!

“We can’t eat food that lifers have made. What if we can eat food that we make?”

Alex opens his mouth before closing it with a click. Just like that, Reggie knows that Alex is with them. He holds his hand out to Luke who fistbumps him. “This is going to end in disaster,” Alex complains, but Reggie sees his grin. He knows the truth. They’re going to make ghost garlic bread. The ghost cooking world won’t know what’s coming.

Get ready ghost cooking world! Reggie and his fellow kind-of-chiefs are coming!

[starryknight09]

That’s not how Ironman goes out

Febuwhump Day 7: poisoning

Read on AO3.

________________________________________________________

Peter pulled his grey hoodie on, practically bouncing on his feet as he finished dressing.  Today was going to be the best day.  He was headed over to Ned’s this morning to work on the new Star Wars Lego set his friend had gotten for his birthday last week, and then he had plans to take MJ out to a new Mexican-Korean fusion restaurant she’d been talking about ever since it opened last month.  They’d been together for almost three months now and he still loved seeing the look on her face whenever he surprised her.

“Peter can you come here for a minute?” Aunt May called from the living room.

“Yeah!” He answered, not thinking anything of it.  He shoved his wallet in his back pocket and toed on his shoes, checking his phone for any messages before pocketing it as well.

He made a detour to the kitchen to grab an apple out of the bowl on the counter, enjoying the crunch of it as he took a huge bite before turning to find May sitting on the couch across the room.

“What’s up?” He asked, barely understandable, around a mouthful of apple.

“Come here.” May patted the couch cushion next to her.  The oddness of the invitation made him stop and focus.  He noticed a characteristic crinkling in the corner of May’s eyes, something she only did when she was worried and trying to hide it.  It was an expression he’d seen more than a few times ever since she’d discovered his vigilante identity.

“What’s wrong?” He moved to stand in front of her.

“Sit down honey.”

“No, I’m good.  I have to get going to Ned’s soon or I’m going to be late.  I promised I’d be there by noon.” He said, checking his watch for show.  The way May was acting made him want to escape.  Made him afraid.

“I need you to sit down.” May patted the space next to her again.

He had the irrational urge to whine, ‘I don’t want to.’  To stamp his feet and refuse.  Because no good news ever came from scenarios like this.  But instead of refusing, he forced his knees to bend and hesitantly sat down next to his aunt.

May reached out to hold his hands.  “Honey, I have to tell you something.”

His heart started racing.  “May, you’re scaring me.”

“You know how Tony had that fundraiser last night?”

He nodded.  Tony had invited him, but it was a stuffy black-tie event, which wasn’t really his thing, and Peter had already had a readymade excuse not to go.  He’d made plans with MJ and hadn’t wanted to disappoint her by cancelling.  Tony hadn’t minded because Peter was heading up to the cabin tomorrow to spend the weekend with him where there wouldn’t be a bunch of uptight old people milling around.

“Well,” May continued, “we’re not sure how it happened yet, but somehow someone managed to slip something into Tony’s drink.”

His stomach dropped out of his body.  No.

“Is he dead?” His voice trembled, afraid to hear the answer.  Afraid that the reason May had positioned him here was to deliver the news that his last remaining father figure was gone.

“No honey.” May reassured him and his eyes closed as he let out a sharp breath of relief.  She squeezed his hands.  “But he’s very sick, and they’re doing everything they can, but we just don’t know yet what’s going to happen.”

He bit his lower lip to keep it from quivering as tears welled up in his eyes.  This couldn’t be happening.

“Why would someone do this?” He managed to choke out the question.

“Oh honey.” May tugged him forward into a hug.  “I know.  It doesn’t make any sense.  They think it was someone from that ridiculous group.”

Peter clenched his jaw.  He knew exactly what group she was talking about.  After Tony had saved everyone, and almost died in the process, a group of zealots had become vocal about how reversing the snap had set back all the environmental progress Earth had made after losing half its population.  They hated Tony for what he’d done.  They believed life had been better before the reversal because the human race was no longer multiplying at a rate that the Earth couldn’t sustain.  Apparently, there’d been less hunger.  Less pollution.  Less war.  But infinitely more heart ache.  Peter didn’t think any of the other stuff even came close to canceling that out.

“I think we should go see him.” May suggested, rubbing his back as she held him and the tears slid down his cheeks.  “Just in case.”

In case he died.  The words went unvoiced.  The very thought that it was even a possibility made him want to scream.  Because of some hate group.  He should’ve gone to that party.  Maybe he would’ve sensed something.  Maybe his ‘Peter tingle’ would’ve caught on.  But no, he’d chosen to hang out with MJ instead.  

“Yeah.” He said, trying to get a handle on his emotions.  “Let’s go.”

“Ok.” May gave him another tight squeeze before releasing him.  “He’s at the compound.  I’ll drive.”

It’d taken months, but they’d rebuilt the compound, like some sort of symbol, bigger and better, in the same place where it’d been desecrated.  Peter usually felt some amount of awe whenever he drove up to it, but not today.  A numbness had descended upon him ever since he’d gotten in the car.  It was as if he couldn’t process any more emotion, good or bad, until he knew if Tony would be ok.  Like a kind of limbo.

The clop of his sneakers on the immaculately polished floors echoed ominously throughout the silent halls. May had tried to throw her arm over his shoulders in support on the walk in but he’d shrugged it off.  Even though he desired the comfort, he hadn’t wanted to be seen as weak by any other Avengers they might encounter.  They already looked at him like a child.

He and May rounded the corner and Peter stopped up short.  Tony’s door was at the end of the hall, and he was almost afraid to cross the remaining distance.  He didn’t want to see him hooked up to machines with wires attached and tubes coming out of him.  Seeing him like that was always hard.  The man was supposed to be larger than life, so anytime something happened where he actually appeared mortal, it was like the cosmic forces were out of sync.

“Come on baby.” May nudged him forward with a hand against his back.

Peter took a deep breath and managed to put one foot in front of the other again.  He could do this.  He had to.  He’d never forgive himself if he didn’t see Tony and something happened.  When they got to his door, Peter paused again, but he forced his hand to grip the door handle and twist it open.

“Hey kid!” Tony greeted him cheerily, sitting up in bed and not looking at all close to death.

Peter froze, not quite believing his eyes.  His gaze shot over to May, wondering if this had all been some sort of cruel trick, but she looked equally shocked.  His eyes darted back to Tony, afraid to believe it.  But the man seemed fine.  Maybe a little drawn and tired but not on death’s door like he’d been led to believe.

He took a halting step forward, not quite ready to trust it, and worried that too much hope might shatter the mirage in front of him.  

“What’s wrong Pete?” Tony frowned.

“You…you’re ok?” He asked, taking another step forward.

“Yeah I’m fine.” Tony held an arm out towards him, encouraging him to come closer.

Peter hurried over to him, grabbing Tony’s arm once he got close enough.  He was real, solid and warm

“You’re ok.” He repeated as if in affirmation.

“That’s what I said.  Try to keep up kid.” Tony smirked at him, and Peter felt his resolve crumble.  Relieved sobs bubbled up and out of him, shaking his frame.

“Shit.  Come here.” Tony pulled him into a comforting hug.  “I’m fine.  I promise I’m fine.”

A minute later Peter heard the familiar click of heels enter the room behind him, but he didn’t lift his head, still working on regaining his composure.

“Oh.” He heard Pepper say in surprise.  “Oh May.  I’m sorry.  I forgot to call you back.  As soon as I got off the phone with you Bruce figured out the antidote and an hour later Tony was fine.  I can’t believe I forgot to let you know.  I’m so sorry.”

“It’s ok.  I’m sure you had a lot on your mind.” May reassured her.

“Still, that’s no excuse.  Oh sweetie I’m sorry I scared you.  It was touch and go there for awhile but Tony’s going to be fine.” Pepper placed her hand on his back.  He really didn’t want her to feel bad.  He tried to pull himself together.  Tony was perfectly fine.  He wasn’t going to die.  

Peter took a deep breath and pulled away, wiping his eyes as he sniffled.

“Sorry.  I didn’t mean to fall apart.” He gave them a tight smile.  “I just—  Well, we thought you were dying.”

“Dying?  You told them I was dying?” Tony threw an accusatory look at Pepper.

She crossed her arms and raised her voice, “We thought you were dying.”

“Pfft.  It’d take more than some crazy zealot to take me out.  Don’t you know me at all honey?”

Pepper rolled her eyes.

“I mean seriously, poison?  That’s not how Ironman goes out.” Tony shook his head and then looked at him with a smirk.  “Right?”

“Right.” He agreed with a nod.

“If anything, it’ll be in a blaze of glory.”

It took every ounce of Peter’s being to not think about Thanos and Tony snapping the gauntlet, coming as close as anyone could to death.

“Yes, at the rate you’re going, you will probably blow yourself up someday.” Pepper deadpanned.

“Hey!” Tony said indignantly.  Peter couldn’t help it.  He snorted out a small laugh, the numbness and fear inside him finally melting away.

“No,” May smiled, joining in the fun, “it’s going to be—”

“Old age.” Peter interrupted, not wanting to think of any other possibility at the moment, not even in jest.

They all quieted down, and Tony looked at him, a soft smile on his face and eyes alive and twinkling.  “Yeah. Old age.  That could work.”

[kilyra]

Grounded

A/N: This is my first venture into the land of Star Wars fic, but the inspo just wouldn’t leave me alone, so here we are. EDIT: Part 2, “Still Grounded” can be found in the masterlist!

Although you two have become close, things get heated after a mission when Poe confronts you for disobeying his order. 

Warnings: Kinda bad language and flaring tempers . No spoilers but it takes place after The Last Jedi. I did do a bit of research so hopefully there’s nothing jarringly out of place!

If you want to be on my tag lists, (all or just a character) just let me know! (Credit for this amazing gif goes to @isaac-oscars​. Thank you SO much!)

As your X-wing gently kissed the ground, you could hardly wait to throw open the canopy but your fingers had turned into a fumbling mess. Your body hummed with the adrenaline that flooded your veins, and there wasn't a single part of you that wasn't shaking. Up until the smooth landing, you had kept it under control but...but landing at base changed everything. You were back home. And your mission was officially a success.

The warm but fresh air of Ajan Kill filled your lungs as you hopped out of the cockpit and scrambled to the ground. Your feet hardly seemed to touch the steps, you were just flying into the waiting hands of your fellow pilots who were already roughly patting your back and helmet.

“You did it! I can't believe it!”

“You're crazy! I wish I coulda seen the look on their faces when you raced through all their loading bays like that! Ha!”

“When those First Order bastards showed up, I thought we were done for sure.”

In the chorus of praise and marvelling, it was hard to tell who said what in the group crowding around you. You did notice one face that was missing though...Poe Dameron.

Looking back, you saw one of the ground crew extracting your droid from the back of the ship. “Hey! Hey, careful with him, alright? Everything we got from those guys is sitting in his data banks.”

She absently nodded but was suddenly using both hands to guide the unit to the ground.

Pulling your gloves off and tucking them under your arm, you pushed your helmet back off your head and scruffed your fingers over your hair. As exhilarating as it was to be in the thick of it, it was always nice to peel everything off and let the air dry the pooling sweat. Dropping the gloves in the helmet, you cradled it against your side as you chatted with your peers and waited for your droid.

If any of them knew you were about to face a world of trouble, they didn't breathe a word of it to you.

With your droid at your side and a few of the other pilots trailing behind, you made your way to the communications centre. No one knew exactly what information you had been sent to extract, but that team would know what to do with it. You were already inside when you heard it.

“Y/n!” Poe barked your name so sharply, you nearly jumped out of your flight suit as you turned towards his voice.

Your stomach dropped when you spotted him marching up from a side hall. Not only was the vein on the side of his neck pulsating so violently you could see it from where you stood, but the fury in his eyes was burning a hole right through you. Even his dark curls seemed to bounce with anger from every stomp. When he came closer, he growled, “Tactics room.”

“But I'm taking my droid to commun-”

“Now!”

He didn't even slow as he stormed past you and the others after shooting you a final, withering glare. Swallowing back your sentence, you blinked rapidly and looked down at your droid who was still and watching you. Looking from the droid to the others, your mouth dropped open but you couldn't form words.

“You'd better be following, L/n,” Poe added without glancing back to check.

There was a firm nudge on your arm as one of the pilots muttered under his breath. “I got this, just go.”

Numbly, you hurried to catch up, trying to ignore how your boots suddenly felt like they were lined with weights. The door was still open to the small meeting room as you sat down, but Poe circled back to slam it shut. Snapping your eyes closed, you failed to stop the flinch.

But you managed to keep your voice steady. “Commander, what's going on?”

Spinning back to face you, his eyebrows shot up as he tilted his head your direction. “Oh. So now I'm Commander?”

It was a trap.

You knew it was a trap but, as he stared expectantly at you for an answer, you had no idea how to get out of it. The wince was already on your face when you finally answered. "Yes?"

Nodding, he ran his tongue along the edge of his lip as he hummed an agreement. “Mhmm, great. And so what was I when I ordered you to abort?”

It was a bewildering slap in the face. Your fingers clenched the edge of the helmet in your lap as you forced yourself to stay seated. “Are you serious? That's what this is about? But I got the intel we've been after for weeks! I-”

“You're not answering the question. What was I on that mission, hmm? When I ordered you to abort?” The edges of his calm words vibrated as he paced at the front of the room, pressing his palm to his forehead before letting his arm drop.

“I was right there!”

“So were they!” Lurching forward, he shoved the chair at the head of the table, sending it crashing against the wall as it landed on its side.

Colour pulsated over your vision, and you had to speak over the rushing in your ears. He pulled the plug shortly after the First Order ships showed up and made it clear it wasn't a coincidence. Someone had either sold out the Resistance or gotten careless, but you had already made contact with the informant and were about to start the data transfer. Poe endlessly repeated himself to abort and get out, but you turned down your comm and finished. Apparently he didn't like that...

But dammit, you knew it had been the right thing to do.

“Yeah! They were! That was the risk we all knew we were taking. A risk, by the way, that the informant was taking too. I wasn't about to let all our efforts be in vain when I was already at the drop point.”

His eyes flashed at your defiance as he gripped the edge of the table. “And what good would it have done to download everything into your droid if you were shot down or captured trying to leave, huh? The smarter play, the play I wanted, was to misdirect and try again.”

It was all you could do to stop your eyes from rolling back. Instead, your insides knotted tightly. “Right, and how far back would that have set us? Assuming the informant resurfaced at all. I don't get what your problem is, everything worked out just fine.”

“Just fine? Your joy ride through all of their cargo bays was just fine?” The breathy tone tumbled from his lips as he pushed himself back from the table.

Before you could jump in, he continued his rant, gaining more heat with every word until he was yelling again. “Sure! Fine. And I'm sure people will be just thrilled to try and help us again. I mean, other than the damage you caused their base and the explosions from downed First Order ships giving chase, it was just fine! Never mind the fact that you could have - you should have - died from that stunt alone!”

This was getting ridiculous. You gripped your helmet tighter and steeled yourself against the creeping guilt.

“Maybe I would have crashed if I was anything less than a damn good pilot. But I am a damn...good...pilot,” you said through grit teeth.

“A damn good pilot that can't...no, that refuses to listen!”

“I was right there!”

“Yeah? Well, now you're grounded!” Poe shouted as leaned over the table, loudly pounding it with his gloved fist before shoving his finger your direction to drive the point home.

“What!?” Jumping to your feet and slamming your helmet down, your chair toppled behind you and crashed onto the floor.

Not even batting an eye at your outrage, he moved closer and continued with a raised voice. "Oh, you heard me. We can't afford to lose damn good pilots. Especially not to their own ego.”

Scoffing, you threw your hands up. “So you're grounding me? You're still losing a pilot!”

“Only until you learn to leave your comm on and listen to orders!” The vein in his neck looked ready to burst as his dark eyes bore into yours.

“This is bullshit! I saved the Resistance from weeks of trying to set up a new drop. Maybe from losing this intel altogether! I did good today and you damn well know it!” Heat flooded your face as you shouted. It was all you could do to stop yourself from flying across the table at him.

“And you could have died!”

Smashing your helmet into the table, you pressed on. “You're always coming down on me, but if Ello or Nien had been in my place, they would have done the exact same thing! You telling me you'd ground them too?”

“No.”

“Why n-”

“Because I don't love them!”

Poe froze at his own words, staring at you with wide eyes before shifting his gaze to the side. His chest heaved as he sharply exhaled. “I-I...don't...”

For a moment, the rush in your ears won and all you could hear was your own heartbeat hammering away. All those times...all those moments in the conferences as you hatched plans or the cantina when everyone was relaxing, but you seemed to just stay focused on each other. The laughter, the lingering stares, the way it was just so much easier to talk to him than anyone else at base...it was all real. He felt the connection as strongly as you did, even though neither of you dared to voice it.

And, instead of those feelings coming out in a sweet moment to cherish...they came out in a heated, twisted mess.

“Y-you don't love...them...” You echoed.

Rubbing his hand along the stubble of his chin, he chewed his bottom lip as he looked back at you. His eyes were glued to yours, but he stayed silent.

Your heart fluttered at his stare, but your stomach rolled as a quiet anger continued to needle you. “So you don't....love...them. And...and so I get punished for that? You have feelings and I get punished? How...how is that fair?”

Sighing, he ran his fingers up into his thick curls, giving them a soft tug before resting his hand on the back of his neck. His free hand went to his hip, pushing his jacket back as the fight visibly drained from his body. Soon, his gaze shifted to the floor, although his eyes didn't stay still. He was utterly lost in deep concentration, clearly sifting through his racing thoughts.

The silence stretched out for several moments before he huffed another sigh through his nose. “It's not.”

His soft statement was enough to stop your attack, but frustration still thrummed through your body as you waited for him to at least take your punishment back.

Swallowing heavily, Poe scanned over the room before his gaze settled on the door. Your hands balled into fists. He wouldn't dare...

His eyes quickly darted back to yours before snapping back to the exit. “I have to go.”

Before you could protest, he was out of the room in just a few long strides. Dumbfounded, you stared out the open door, too stunned to call after him.

A growl ripped from your throat as you grabbed your helmet with both hands and smashed it into the table.

Bang. Bang. Bang.

As you lifted the helmet, you saw a small dent in the table's metal surface. Letting out a frustrated grunt, you threw it as hard as you could across the room, dumping your gloves on the floor as it crashed against the chair Poe had turned over.

Grabbing a chair that was still on its feet, you shifted and sank into it as you cupped your head in your propped hands. It was impossible to tear one feeling from another as everything swirled into a muddled mess inside your chest. There was only one thing you knew for sure.

You were grounded.

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