#sorry long yapping session i needed to let this out of my chest

[moonystoes]

Long yap session:

I was watching the match with my dad. He had the afcon match on the tv and I was watching it with him too but I also had my laptop on the couch to watch the lyon vs psg match. He made a comment about 'why are you watching a normal league game if there is a final right now'. And then I had to tell him about the whole rivalry between lyon and psg since he only watches the men.

My dad is the weird kind who makes sexist comments but also defends women, I noticed a pattern that when he makes the sexist joke he usually looks at my reaction. I guess he just likes making me angry, when I realized, I just gave him a small response without reacting. And he stopped. He also said 'why would I watch women play, they get tired after 5 minutes' and then went like 👀👀. I think he spent watching the girls play more than the afcon match 😭😭...oh he also said Sakina was beautiful, he started asking for their nationalities and positions. He also complimented Chawinga and when he saw elisa he was like 'thats a guy right there'. I was about to make a joke like 'oh I thought you would never watch women football' but I lowkey didn't want him to stop watching so I just answered his questions normally.

I had to go drink some water so I stopped the match (I was watching it on dazn and you can stop the stream). When I went back, I continued the stream from where I stopped. Dad was like, "why don't you just watch live"

"I can't what if I miss something."

"Come on they're definitely winning, psg was dominating the whole match." (So he was watching 👹)

"No but what if lyon scores I don't want to do this."

Dad presses the 'continue on live' button

Elisa is on the screen, lyon is celebrating a goal.

😦😦😦

I turned to baba like YOUU MF I CANT BELIEVE YOU DID THIS

HE LAUGHED AT ME, HE SAW ME AND LAUGHED.

When they replayed the part he GIGGLED. but he also said 'lyon couldn't score a goal a psg player had to do it'...thank you I guess?? Is that a compliment? An insult? Idk.

When they were playing for added time, everytime elisa had the ball he would say 'look she's gonna score the second goal' ☹️☹️

I was so fucking heartbroken I WANTED TO CRY SEEING ELISA LIKE THAT.

[shuaboo]

so ricky having a breeding and size kink with the reader…yk where he then pins the readers thighs to their chest just goes at it 😀😀

mdni nsfw under the cut

DAMN I GOT LIKE TWO ASKS ABT SIZE KINKS WITH DIFF MEMBERS.. ALL Y’ALL INTO SIZE KINKS???? who threw a size kink party and forgot to invite me 🙅🏻‍♀️?

THIS HIGHKEY TURNED INTO A FULL ON FIC sorry i love to yap. im the #1 yap god

anyway this is some delicious shit… i know ricky hate to see me comin 😭. he knows it’s unlikely you’ll have a baby when you’re both only 20. that’s far too young! but poor ricky just loves your pretty pussy so much, he wants to breed you and paint your walls white with his cum. :c he’s been hitting the gym lately, so he’s gotten bigger and stronger. that doesn’t help his case at all. now everytime you have sex, all he wants to do is put you in positions you didn’t even know existed and fuck you. all while begging you to let him cum inside because he wants to breed you soooo bad.

“hngh.. fuck.. baby please please let me cum inside, please.” ricky says as he fucks you in an inhumane pace, while he holds your legs open with one of them placed on his shoulder. “no— ah! n-no, ricky.. you can’t..” you manage to say in between broken moans, rejecting his pleads. ricky whines at your rejection, the image of you with his kid filling his mind. “don’t you want a mini us running around? hm? c’mon, don’t you wanna feel me stuff you full of my cum, baby?” ricky says, maintaining his speed ans kissing and nipping at your chest. “o-of course i want to, but—“ you try to explain, but ricky cuts you off. “then please let me cum inside you. i wanna stuff you full with my cum. give you my kid. mine. you’re all mine, right?” ricky pleads with you again. you nod at him and moan, tears falling down your face from how hard he’s fucking you. the thoughts of of ricky cumming inside you, ricky looking so happy with your kid, and ricky helping you when your boobs get sore because you’re pregnant clouding your head. eventually, it gets too much and he successfully convinces you to let him cum inside. ricky smirks at his triumph and fucks you even faster n harder than before if that’s possible. “shit.. ah— gonna look so.. so good when you’re stuffed full of my cum… even better when you’re carrying my baby.. i love you.. i love you.. i love you s’much..” ricky moans out as his thrusts start to get sloppy, signaling that he’s close. “f-fuck! baby, im g’na cum.. gonna let me cum inside right?” ricky asks and lowers himself to kiss you. you moan into the kiss and pull back again. “yes.. yes, yes, yes please cum inside me, ricky… oh fuck—“ you cry out as you cum around his length. your words alone makes his dick throb harder than ever, and he cums inside of you. both of you are panting from the long fucking session you just had, and ricky falls right beside u on the bed.

ricky adjusts himself so he’s facing you, and puts a hand on your cheek to make you face him. “y-you didn’t say that just because i wanted to cum inside you, right?” ricky asks you hesitantly, wanting to make sure you wanted it too and you didn’t just do it because he was into it. “fuck— yeah, of course. im sure about it. i don’t regret it either, but i think we should still get a plan b.” you answer him and chuckle, putting your own hand above his. ricky smiles and nods at your answer, kissing you quickly before sitting up. “c’mon lets get cleaned up, i’ll pick up the plan b tomorrow, kay?” you murmur an “okay” and nod. ricky smiles and picks you up so he can take you to the bathroom and help you shower.

“you sure you’re just here to help me shower?” you say teasingly at him. ricky rolls his eyes at your words, and leans down smirking. “yeah yeah, unless… you need another round? can’t get enough of me can you, baby?” he teases you right back. you slap his arm and pull him closer to kiss him.

pulling back from the kiss, ricky gives you a soft smile. “i love you so much, you know that? there’s no one else i want to do this with other than you.” you smile at his words, touched by his confession (that u alr knew..). “of course i do. i love you too. now, let’s shower. i feel icky.” you say back to him and both of you laugh at your last statement.

yay! ricky if u dont get over here and fuck me rn—

[illegal-spiegel]

No Lying

Pairing: Katsuki Bakugo x gn!reader Genre: fluff Warnings: mention of blood (from a wound), making out  Summary: Bakugo gets hit with a quirk that makes it impossible for him to lie  Updated on 10.19.20

you’re apart of the Bakusquad 

you’re best friends with Mina, so it was only natural for her to rope you into her friend group 

Bakugo didn’t really ever talk to you at first unless it was an insult or he was yelling at you

you didn’t mind though, seeing as how he always acts like that

eventually though, he gets used to you being around and starts to chill tf out 

you think he treats you like the rest of his friends now and you couldn’t be happier

he doesn’t though

he doesn’t get his other friends their favorite snacks. He doesn’t help patch them up after a rough training session. He doesn’t yell or insult you as much as the others. You’re definitely not just a friend to him but shh we don’t talk about that

you all were a happy friend group for months until the ‘travesty’ happened

someone hit Bakugo with a quirk that makes him tell the truth anytime he tries to talk 

you all found this out after first defeating the villain 

“Hey, Bakugo. Are you okay?” you ask worriedly as he sits on the ground with blood running from his head after being hit with a powerful blast 

“No, my head is aching and throbbing,” he answers honestly before instantly choking up 

normally, he’d brush off everyone’s worries and brag that he’s completely fine and he doesn’t feel a thing 

but why did he just say that? 

that wasn’t at all what he was going to say

you thought it was a little odd too that he was being so honest but you weren’t about to call him out on it when he’s in pain 

“C’mon. Let’s get you to Recovery Girl,” you say as you help him up

he goes to say that he doesn’t need your help standing up and that he doesn’t need to see Recovery Girl 

but instead, he says, “Thanks. I really appreciate it.” 

you almost fall flat onto your face out of surprise 

the Bakugo just thanked you 

Katsuki Bakugo, the hot-headed, headstrong, tempered, anger issues having boy just thanked you 

you stutter out a ‘you’re welcome’ before dropping him off with Recovery Girl

he was red in the face for the next hour. It was mostly embarrassment but he was a little angry too that he didn’t lie 

while he was there, he found it impossible to lie 

he didn’t even tell Recovery Girl this because that would’ve been too embarrassing 

when he got home, he refused to talk unless he knew some nonsense wouldn’t come out of his mouth 

he tried to just be straight up silent but then everyone would start worrying about him and it was really just a bother 

you ended up hanging out around him more though whereas the others gave him his space 

“Why are you following me around so much?” he asks you one day, the question being more so out of curiosity than anger 

he always sounds angry though 

so you took it as you’re annoying him 

“Oh, I’m sorry. I’m just worried about you. After that one fight, you’ve been really quiet. I just thought-”

“Thank you for worrying about me.” 

GOD DAM-

“You’ve also been really nice here recently and it’s honestly freaking everyone out.” 

he can’t believe he slipped up again 

he stayed quiet for a moment, knowing he needs to tread lightly or else he’ll slip up again 

“I don’t mean to,” he admits. That kind of sounds like something he’d say 

“Oh, okay. I just don’t want you thinking you have to change who you are to be friends with us,” you reassure with a warm smile 

he goes to say he knows that

it’s the truth so he can easily say that

so tell him why he says this instead 

“You have a beautiful smile.” 

he instantly slaps his hand over his mouth, absolutely mortified right now 

you both gawk at each other, cheeks as hot as an inferno 

neither of you can believe he just said that 

the Bakugo just complimented you 

Katsuki Bakugo, the hot-headed, headstrong, tempered, anger issues having boy just complimented you 

you both remain silent for at least a minute, not knowing what to do 

is he pranking you or something? He’s not really the pranking type though 

just as he goes to silently leave, you squeak out, “Thank you, Bakugo. That means a lot coming from you.” 

you’re staring at the ground and refuse to look at him 

his heart is honestly beating too fast for his liking and he needs to get out of there 

“Don’t mention it,” he says as fast as Kaminari’s bolts before briskly walking away 

both of you are flustered for the rest of the day and no one can figure out why 

he keeps acting like a love-sick fool and he hates it 

he keeps complimenting you and saying nice things and ugh 

when does this quirk end? 

it’s been five days and he’s still acting like this 

he just wants to call you a stupid brat to wipe that cute dumb smile off your face 

on the fifth day, you come up to him and ask to hangout 

this is nothing new for you two 

what is new, however, is his answer 

instead of brushing you off and letting you beg for him for a while

or agreeing but informing you it’s going to be boring 

he says, “I’d love nothing more.” 

he didn’t even realize that this was the truth until he said it 

you’re shocked that he agreed so easily and even said that he would want nothing more than to do that 

while you two are hanging out, you decide to be upfront with him 

“Bakugo, do you like me or something? You’ve been so nice to me and complimenting me a lot. I-”

“Yes, I do,” he replies casually as if you two are discussing the weather 

he takes a swig of his water before realizing what he just said to you 

the water goes down the wrong pipe and the next thing he knows 

he’s choking 

he hacks out a lung while you pat his back 

you’re kind of glad this happened because you need a moment to process his answer

he just straight up told you how he feels 

oh my god

once he’s breathing normally again, you two are sitting in silence once more 

“I, um, like you too,” you admit quietly, biting your lip afterwards 

“Don’t bite your lip. That’s my job,” he says as he puts his thumb below your lip and forces your bottom lip out of your mouth 

he can’t believe he just said that either 

is that too forward? Did he scare you off? 

“Then why aren’t you doing it?” you whisper back, your eyes meeting his 

your face is the hottest it’s ever felt 

he seems to notice but only pays attention to that for a second before  his eyes are closing as he kisses you 

you two makeout for a while 

and after that, you two makeout a lot 

like, all the time 

you two do it in secret though, per your suggestion 

you just figured that Bakugo would want it that way seeing as how you two will be teased a lot and it’ll just piss him off 

after one specifically spicy sesh, you pull back to pant for air as you look him over 

god, it really is illegal to look this good 

his hair is disheveled from your hands 

his lips are a little swollen from how hard you two were kissing 

he has red marks littered over his neck from your lips and teeth

and you’re sure you’re much worse than him 

“Hey, I’ve been meaning to ask. If you weren’t suddenly being nice to just be nice, why have you been so kind to everyone and whatnot?” 

you watch him press his lips together, your brow raising as you watch him seemingly fight with himself 

“I was hit with a quirk that makes it impossible to lie,” he admits 

now this is interesting 

you don’t even realize you’re smirking until he speaks up 

“Whatever you’re thinking, no.” 

you pout and wrap your arms loosely around his neck 

“I’m not thinking anything,” you feign innocence 

“Yeah, right,” he replies sarcastically 

you pout before deciding to let the innocent facade go 

“When did you start liking me?” 

you watch his lips press together again, a blush rising to his face

“C’mon, just tell me! I’ll tell you how long I’ve liked you if you tell me first!” you compromise 

he huffs and rolls his eyes, doing his best to give you a bored look as he says in a monotone, “The sports festival.”

your jaw drops at this 

that long ago? You weren’t even in the Bakusquad yet!

“Awe, you had a crush on me without me even knowing,” you coo, playfully pinching his cheeks 

“Shut up. Your turn,” he snaps while smacking your hands away 

you giggle and wrap your arms back around him, thinking for a moment 

“Well, I thought you were cute on the first day. But then you’re ego was just so big and you were just so angry—”

“Okay, I get it,” he interrupts, glaring at you 

you laugh at his reaction and lean forward to give him a sweet kiss before continuing 

“Then, Mina had me join your friend group. I got to know you better and I realized how you show your affection for others. It’s all just hidden behind harsh words and actions. I see through it now though,” you finish softly, brushing some of his wild hair back before watching it spring back up 

he stares at you for a long moment, just remaining silent 

“That’s one reason I like you, you know. You’re so observant.”

you blush at his compliment, quickly hiding your face in his neck to hopefully conceal the embarrassed look coming over your face from his eyes 

“Plus, you’re so easy to fluster,” he teases as he playfully pinches your thigh

the sound of your smacks to his chest are covered up by his laughter 

it didn’t take long for Mina to catch on to you two though 

“Bakugo, do you like (Y/n)?” she singsongs when all of you are hanging out in the common room one day 

all of them wait for him to deny it and start to yell at her 

“Yeah. We are dating,” he says calmly 

they all gape at him in shock and surprise 

“Stop gawking at me.” 

after he speaks again, they all go into a frenzy 

“You two are dating?”

“When did this happen?” 

“Why didn’t you tell us?” 

he pulls you into his side protectively as he growls at them before shouting, “Because it’s none of your business, you extras! You all are so annoying! I want to blow out my ear drums just so I don’t have to listen to you all yap!” 

Bakugo then goes quiet 

he, obviously, doesn’t want to blow out his ear drums 

that was a lie 

oh my god, it’s over 

after a grueling week, he can finally be himself again 

thank the heavens 

“Aww, c’mon, Bakubro.”

“You’ve been so nice this past week. What happened?” 

“I hate all of you. Leave me alone,” he snaps. 

all of them smile at his crude words

every time he’d be nice, they’d frown and furrow their brows 

they missed this 

“You’re so cute when you’re mad,” you tease, kissing his cheek 

“Shut up, extra,” he snaps at you next 

you can’t take him seriously though with his face being as pink as it is and his arm tightening around you

┍━━━━━━━✿━━━━━━━┑

MASTERLIST

More with Bakugo

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[booksforevermore13]

The Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Dogfish

Summary: Lily brings home a dogfish. When Ginny doesn't approve, Harry wonders if there is something else bothering her. If he recalled correctly, it hadn't been very long since his wife had brought home a really old seahorse. Then what really was the matter?

Read it on Fanfiction if you prefer!

...

“To be fair, he followed me home.”

“He is a fish ⁠— “

“⁠— dogfish.”

“And he doesn’t have legs! So, tell me Lils, how in Triton’s hell did he magically walk out of water and follow you home?”

Lily huffed, crossing her arms and avoiding her mum’s look. Then, as a peace offering, she peeked out from under her hair and smiled sheepishly, to which her mum only raised an eyebrow.

“Oh, you can’t deny he’s not cute,” she whined, and then bent down to pick him up, while the pup (fish?) nuzzled his nose into her shirt.

“If you ask me, he’s kinda creepy,” James piped in.

“He is not! And no one asked you!”

She watched as her mum narrowed her eyes in her typical mum way, and then sighed, and Lily knew half the battle was won.

“So?” she urged, and her mother glared at her, and then turned her glare towards James as he snickered. Albus raised his arms in defence as their mum turned to him, and hastily looked down at the ground.

“We,” Ginny sighed, shaking her head in defeat, “⁠— oh, I’m going to regret this ⁠— we will talk about this when your dad comes home.”

“Does that mean we can keep him?”

“We will talk about this when your dad,” her mum repeated, looking each of them in the eye, “comes home.”

They nodded, giving each other sombre looks, while the puppy-fish, (fuppy, pish?) yapped excitedly.

“For Triton’s sake, first her brother brings home a dolphin.ow her, a bloody dogfish,” Ginny muttered, and then shooed them out of the kitchen, very well knowing she’d be fighting a losing battle.

Oh, she was definitely going to regret this.

…

“Oh, good you’re home,” Ginny said, folding and unfolding the Pall Mall Gazette. Harry looked at her in confusion, then at the paper, then back at her again, noting the skittish manner with which she was avoiding his gaze.

“I am?”

Ginny shot him a glare, hands on her hips, and Harry offered a sheepish smile.

“Sorry, I just ⁠— you sound mad. You look mad.”

“Do I?”

Harry bit back a smile, and then asked, “Who was it this time? James or Lils?”

“She brought home a dogfish,” Ginny gritted out. “A dogfish. With an orange fin. And a snout. A horribly disgusting, slobbering snout!”

Harry shot her a mirthful glance, before gesturing to her to continue.

“We don’t have space for a dogfish!”

“Don’t we?”

Ginny gestured again, waving her hands around as if that could prove her point, and Harry, in a moment of uncertainty, wondered if the dogfish was really the problem. It couldn’t be, for it hadn’t been long before she had herself come home with a seahorse; though it had turned out to be a really old seahorse and had died within a year.

“Ginny,” he started, in a different manner than before. “What’s wrong?”

He didn’t expect her to answer, at least not directly, but he certainly didn’t expect her to whack him on the head with the roll of paper. He winced, looking at her and wondering if she really had gone mad, before she started speaking through gritted teeth.

“Are you listening to anything I’m saying?”

“I am, Gin!” he said quickly. “But you need to talk to me. Really talk to me.”

“I am!”

“I don’t think so!”

“Lily brought a dogfish home!”

“Is the dogfish really the problem, Gin?” Harry asked, and watched as her face morphed from anger to uncertainty, and then back to anger as her brows furrowed, and she glanced back at him again.

“No,” she said curtly, with that stubborn frown on her face, and though Harry was glad he’d managed to figure her out (for once), he couldn’t really place his claims on what exactly had made her upset. She’d seemed fine that morning. He’d kissed her goodbye, she’d stopped it from becoming a full blown makeout session (their children were home, plus he’d had to go to work), and she’d smiled at him, and looked at him with that blazing look of hers, and he’d told her he’d be home early. Everything had been just as it was supposed to be. Everything had been fine.

Except now it wasn’t.

And then to his surprise, Ginny let her head fall on his shoulder, burying her face in his shirt, and Harry let his arms wrap around her, keeping her steady. He tucked her head under his chin, and rested his head on hers, the two of them in the middle of their hallway, arms around each other, and for the moment, it was the most natural thing they’d ever done.

And then her shoulders started shaking.

And Harry’s frown grew increasingly deeper.

“Hey,” he urged. “Gin, hey, hey.” He cupped her face and tilted it upwards, horrified to find her just barely holding back tears. Ginny sniffled, and swiped one hand across her face, further smearing her tears. Harry wiped the rest off with his thumbs, cursing silently to whoever, whatever had made her cry.

“Just… let me have this for a second, please, Harry?” Her voice cracked, and Harry brought her in against his chest, holding her tight, his heart racing a million miles per hour as he mulled over all the things that could have happened.

Then, on second thought, he bent down and picked her up, and it was the thought that she hadn’t even yelped at that, that made him feel an odd sense of triumph.

Harry settled on the couch, gently stroking her hair as she lay on his lap, her tears dampening his shirt, but he couldn’t have cared less.

And yet, he didn’t ask.

He didn’t push.

But he was glad that she trusted him so much to be vulnerable around him, and him around her. It had taken them fifteen years married to each other, and even longer than that, to really know the other like they did now. To know that if they were vulnerable around the other, it didn’t automatically make them weak in their eyes.

And yet, it didn’t change the fact that there he was with a crying Ginny, and him sorely wishing he could beat up the person who’d made her cry.

There were certainly few things he hated more than seeing his wife upset.

“I promise I’m still as sane as you,” Ginny mumbled from beneath him, and he looked down at her, brushing away her hair from her face.

“I never doubted that for a second,” Harry replied.

Ginny let out a laugh, albeit humourless, but it didn’t stop her from getting up and offering him a sad sort of smile. He looked at her, his chest clenching at how her eyes still occasionally watered. Harry opened his mouth, but before he did, Ginny got up from his lap, and sat beside him on the couch, facing away from him.

“Gin, talk to me?” he begged, “and don’t tell me it’s the damn dogfish again because I know, you know, it’s not.”

He caught a tear as it broke away from the dam, and rubbed his thumb against her cheek, his eyes begging for her to talk.

“I…” she sighed. “I want to play again.”

Ginny looked at him, and he was silent, so she continued.

“I want to play Quidditch again. I want to get into that arena, and feel the water rippling around me, and hear the Bludgers whizz by me, and hear the crowd yelling and screaming ⁠—” her voice broke, and a new wave of tears began to slip down her cheeks before she could stop them. “I’m sorry, this is ridiculous⁠ —“

“It’s not.”

“I-I need to get out there again. And it’s selfish of me, and it’s illogical that I suggest leaving Lily and Albus and James alone here; I mean, Lily’s just seven, but I can’t shake this-this feeling that I could ⁠— I should be doing more!”

“Hey,” Harry said, cupping her face and looking into her eyes. He didn’t exactly understand what was truly the matter; all he was really concentrating on was her tears, and how each time they fell, his heart beat painfully within his chest. “This is not selfish, or illogical, or anything you just said right now.” Ginny glanced away, but Harry simply shifted to face her. “Gin, look at me. Look at me,” and when she finally did, his heart clenched yet again to see her eyes tearing up again.

“Demelza called me and told me how they’d made her captain,” she choked out finally, “and I couldn’t help but wonder that if I’d stuck around, then they’d⁠ —“

“⁠— have made you instead,” Harry finished, and brushed away her tears as more fell.

“And that thought made me feel so selfish, and-and guilty when James and Albus and Lils are my world, and- and you. All I wanted back then was to have more time with you, and I have that now. I finally have that now. This-this is all I’ve ever wished for. But, I-I can’t help but relentlessly think and think about that what-if, and everything else that could have been different with that what-if, and I can’t stop thinking about it.”

Harry was silent, his mind screaming at him to hold her close to him, make her tears go away, but this time, he didn’t think Ginny needed that. This time, he knew Ginny needed answers. And even if he couldn’t give them to her himself, he could help her find them. So if a chord had struck, he asked out of the blue. “Where are those three?”

“What?” Ginny frowned. “Oh, um… they’re at the Burrow. Apparently, they wanted to show their newly acquired…pet to their grandparents, but we both know it’s just going to be them trying to coerce Mum into making them a sweater for that fish.”

“Can you ask your mum if she can keep them at their place for a few hours?”

Ginny looked at him, confused, but she still nodded, taking out her phone from her back pocket. “Any particular reason?”

“Yeah,” Harry said, as he got up from the sofa, and offered her his hand. “We’re going swimming.”

…

“Doesn’t change the fact that I’m still a better mermaid than you,” Ginny quipped as she looked down at the water pool in front of them.

“I’m a merman. I don’t think I fit your criteria at all.”

“Yes, well, potato, potahto, mer...maid.”

Harry laughed, ducking his head, and Ginny cupped his cheek and turned his face, kissing him gently.

“Thanks for being my loyal listener,” she said, between kisses, and Harry smiled against her lips, wrapping a hand around her waist.

“Always.”

Her laugh echoed in the cave, as she stepped back and winked, before jumping into the pool, and if he could, he would have bottled that sound and gotten drunk on it.

“That’s the laugh,” he said softly, and followed.

…

The Ministry had caves just like the one near their house, almost at every other street in London. They were like Daedulus’ symbols, there where only those who knew where it was could see it.

Harry looked at Ginny again, fully knowing that even after all the times he’d seen her underwater, she still managed to take his breath away. Every time.

She was beautiful.

Her shimmering crimson tail glowed against the water, her hair floating around her in an angry halo, except it wasn’t angry. Not really. Here, Ginny seemed almost at peace.

“What are we doing here?” she asked, and Harry smiled at her, holding out his hand for her to take.

They were at the arena. The arena. They were at Hogwarts.

Lanterns guided their way, lighting their path, as they navigated the dark waters, the soft yellow light on the ocean floor, not much help, but it was, to its credit, useful. More in the sense of reassurance, than anything else.

In what was the oddest twist of the universe, mermen didn’t have tails. They could breathe and swim like their female counterparts, sure, but due to some unexplainable reason, they didn’t have tails.

That gave them a setback, sure, for mermaids were faster, swifter, and he had spent a major part of his Hogwarts years building up his speed and stamina in order to keep up with them.

It didn’t help his case that while underwater, mermaids were by far, the most beautiful creatures on the planet, their tails shining against the silver waters. On the other hand, they were just…them.

“You wanna tell me what’s happening here, Harry?”

Harry smiled at her, then let go of her hand, letting the lanterns guide their way. And then, as if a switch had been flipped, the world around them grew clearer, stiller and what had been darkness had instead turned to light.

“The first time I saw you here,” he said, swimming behind her, and keeping her hands on her shoulders, his voice in her ears, “the first thing I thought was: how the bloody hell was she not on the team yet?”

Ginny laughed, her voice dampened against the waves, but Harry could hear it as clear as day.

“The second thing I thought was that Ginny Weasley here, she was going to be a hell of a player. Someone I could never, ever, compare to.”

Harry turned her face to face him, and grinned. “That’s when I knew I loved you.”

Ginny shook her head, a knowing smile on her face, and Harry had a strange sense of accomplishment when he realized that he had been the one to put it there.

“Harry Potter, you’re one heck of a charmer, you know that?”

He shrugged, looking at her coyly. “I may have been told, once or twice.” He paused. But he didn’t stop. “You’re a lot of things to a lot of people, Gin, but back then, I always thought you were the Ginny Weasley, the fiercest chaser in business. So, whatever you decide to do, we’ll figure it out, just like we always do.”

Ginny gulped, and clutched his hand tightly, looking around the arena as if it was her first time seeing it.

In the end, this had always been her place.

This was where he knew she had to keep coming back.

And if she did, Harry knew he’d do everything in his power to make that happen. He’d quit being an Auror if he had to, stay with the kids, and he’d do it gladly if it meant more time with them. If it meant Ginny getting to follow her dream.

Fifteen years with Gin had made him realise dreams he’d never thought he’d have.

“I want to get back here,” Ginny admitted. “But, I don’t want to be away from them. You know how it was,” she turned to Harry, “back then, when I came home late from practice, all those hours away from James, from you. I don’t want that. That’s why I left, and I’ll do it a thousand times over if I had to.”

“But this, this is all I’ve wanted to do, since I was six and saw Bill fly for the first time. Now…I’m not so sure. But at the same time⁠—”

“⁠— you do,” Harry finished for her, and then grinned, facing her side. “It’s been fifteen years, but I am still trying to figure you out,” he said, as his hands cupped her cheeks, holding her steady, so that he could drink in the sight of her.

“I don’t think you ever will.”

But he’ll never stop trying.

Now she looked at him, several seconds later, brown to green, her to him, eyes glinting with the ghost of a smile. “I know what to do, Harry,” she said softly, and laughed. “And to think it was all for a damn dogfish.”

“I don’t suppose we still have room for it, do we?”

“We’ll have to see.”

Harry nodded, listening for a moment longer to the slight deafness of water around him, and her brown eyes, as radiant as the first time he’d seen them.

Then he kissed her. At her lips’ touch, Harry felt he was rediscovering them again.

“I love you,” Ginny mumbled, her hands tangled in his hair, her lips drawing him in for another kiss.

Harry smiled, knowing he’d never loved her more.

“I love you,” he said.

...

[aiiwa]

LET HIM KNOW — SAWAMURA DAICHI.

✗ REQUEST: can i please make a request of jealous daichi ( a fic if it’s possible). this thought has been living in my head for the past week and i just 🤰. so basically daichi gets jealous of a boy talking to you and flirting with you and just grabs you by the throat/jaw and just tongues you down right then and there. a college au would be great too!

— sawamura daichi x fem!reader

⤷ genre: college au

⤷ warnings: suggestive content, cursing, jealous (?) or rather possessive daichi, boy who disrespects relationships and doesn’t know when to give up

⤷ word count: 1.7k

— a/n: hi! i just wanted to announce that i actually reached 200 followers yesterday and i am extremely grateful for everyone who takes the time to read, like, reblog my content and for those who even message me! i appreciate everything, thank you so much! 💖

out of everything you prepared in celebration for your four-year anniversary with your boyfriend, sawamura daichi; the last thing you expected was to spend it tutoring in the hour right before your date.

you had spent months prior planning this special night for the two of you. from having dinner at his favourite restaurant which served the best shoyu ramen, to the rose-petalled bubble bath surrounded by the pine and vanilla candles he’d gifted you last month; and then, of course, ending it in the best way possible with him buried balls deep inside you and fucking you til dawn.

it was while you were getting ready for your date that you received a panicked text message from haru, the sweet freshman you’d been tutoring for the past five months, asking if you could help him today. you tried to schedule a session for tomorrow, but he was insistent almost begging you; and with a discontented sigh you relented, telling him to meet you at the library in twenty. he’d replied with a quick - “thank you y/n-senpai! <3” - and the love heart attached at the end was purposely ignored, as you headed out of your studio apartment.

daichi was less than pleased when you had phoned him, informing him of the last minute tutoring session.

“angel, tell me you’re not serious right now.” his deep voice was clear-cut, despite the sounds of traffic in the background; a tell-tale sign that he was in fact already on his way to meet you.

“i’m sorry, dai. it shouldn’t take too long, haru-kun said-”

“haru? that little shit?”

sighing internally, and making your way towards the red-bricked building with the click-clack of your thigh-high boots against the pavement, you nodded your head as if he could see you. “yes, it was haru-kun who requested the session.”

“you know how i feel about that brat.”

daichi had been more than supportive when you first started tutoring to earn some money on the side, and even though most of your tutees happened to be boys, it didn’t bother him much since they would take one look at him and give up on trying to win over your affection. haru was different. he was the furthest thing from subtle when it came to his crush on you, but you could handle his endless compliments and his attempts to take you out on a date; your boyfriend on the other hand, couldn’t. as intimidating as daichi was, haru had all but given your boyfriend a lazy once over before scoffing and mumbling about how you could do so much better.

that was the first time in a long time that you had seen daichi almost lose his cool. since that day, any interaction between the two of them had been borderline hostile; with your boyfriend hissing whenever haru’s hand would brush against you, and in turn the younger male would complain about how daichi must not be treating you well enough whenever you had chosen to walk home instead of having him pick you up.

“i know, baby, but the session shouldn’t be that long.”

“y/n.” the baritone slivering through his voice had you faltering in your steps. “you know he’s doing this on purpose. that kid has no respect for our relationship, or me- he needs to know his place.”

“daichi…i’ll talk to him today.”

“hm.” he hums in response, his side of the call silent for a beat. you could hear the blinking of his indicator before he asks, “are you at the library?”

“yeah i am, haru is probably waiting inside for me already. i’ll message you, okay?”

“alright, i’ll see you soon.”

the call had been disconnected almost half an hour ago, and you found yourself zoning out for the umpteenth time while haru busied himself by yapping away next to you. flipping your cellphone in the palm of your hand, your brows furrowed, thinking about how daichi hadn’t ended the call with his usual - “i love you, angel.” - perhaps he was mad you? it didn’t happen often, but flashes of you writhing beneath him as his hand cracked against your ass after heated arguments, had you crossing a leg over the other; thighs clenched together in an attempt to relieve some of the tingling pressure.

“y/n-senpai~!” haru waved his hand in front of your face, forcing you to blink away the less than innocent images playing in your mind. “are you okay? i’ve been calling out to you for a while, i have a question.” haru almost whines.

“i’m fine, haru-kun, sorry. please repeat your question for me.”

manicure fingers brushed over the exposed flesh of your plush thighs, between the hem of daichi’s favourite pleated mini skirt of yours you decided to wear for him and the ink coloured boots that wrapped around your calves and past your knees. you hadn’t realised the already short skirt had risen up, and as you tugged it down it was hard not to notice haru’s gaze watching the action intensely. maybe it was time to talk to him.

“haru-kun, i think we should talk.”

his eyes lingered on your legs, slowly dragging themselves past the dip of your waist, over the curve of your breasts, before they met with your own.

his eyes are wide, smirk less than innocent, as he shifts his whole body to face you. “really? about what yn-senpai?” 

“about my relationship with daichi.” at the mention of your boyfriend, haru’s expression morphs into a scowl. “listen, haru-kun.” you start, deciding to ease into it. “i’ve been with daichi for a long time, in fact today marks the anniversary of our fourth year as a couple...”

“and you’ve finally realised that he isn’t worthy of you.” ‘worthy of me?’ you think to yourself, completely taken aback; haru nods his head in understanding, as if he didn’t just completely misinterpret what you were trying to say to him.

“no, that’s not it-”

“come on, y/n-senpai, let me treat you how you deserve to be treated.” he rests his arm on the back of your chair casually. “i could give you everything he can and more. you just have to give me a chance.”

“that’s not going to happen, haru.” dropping the honorifics, tone snappy. you crossed your arms tightly across your chest.

“and why not?” he bites back. “what does he have that i don’t- did you tell him to come here?” he questions accusingly, staring over your shoulder.

“no…? i didn’t...”

swivelling in your seat, your breath hitches at the sight of your boyfriend heading straight towards you. each purposeful stride of daichi’s long legs, had the smooth material of his dress pants tightening around his strong thighs, the silver of his belt buckle glinting under the harsh library lights. his navy blue dress shirt stretched over his wide shoulders, first few buttons popped open to reveal his smooth, tanned skin underneath.

daichi stopped right by your seat, so close that you instinctively pressed the palm of your hand against his hip, feeling the warmth of his body through the thin cotton material. you were instantly surrounded by the sweet and familiar woodsy scent of his cologne, wafting around you and sending your senses into overdrive.

looking up at him, his pretty mouth was pulled into a devilish grin, pearly whites peeking from the corner of his lips and a single dimple poking through his cheek.

“hi, angel.” his voice was low, dripping in honey that washed over you; goosebumps prickling across your skin.

“daichi…?” a whisper was all you managed to get out. “h-how come you’re here...?”

“you look so fucking beautiful, y/n.”

haru’s scoff goes ignored, yanking his arm away from behind you and grumbling to himself in the background.

a warm flush rose in your cheeks as daichi continued to smile down at you, walnut coloured eyes appreciating every curve of your body; searing gaze lingering on your skirt, before he released an airy chuckle, almost kin to a growl. you could feel the heat pool between your legs, unconsciously leaning against his towering frame.

“i’m here because we’re gonna let him know…” daichi starts, loud enough for the boy to hear.

one arm flexes against the strain of his sleeves, sliding behind you to grip the back of your chair; the other reaching a large had to press against your cheek. the callouses on his palm are rough against your skin, thumb rubbing lazy circles before trailing down to the pout of your lips. dragging his thumb across your fullness of your bottom lip, your pink tongue darts out to taste the saltiness on the pad of his thumb. halting his ministrations, releasing a heavy breath out through his nose, he grabs your jaw, grip tight, and tilts your face to meet his as he leans downwards.

“...let him know that you’re mine.”

and then his lips are pressed against yours. it starts off sweet, sighing softly into him for a fleeting moment, before daichi deepens the kiss. it becomes sloppy, extremely possessive, and borderline nasty as drool at the corner of your mouth dripped down your chin; moans trapped down your throat. the lewd sounds of his tongue swirling around yours sensually, exploring your mouth, clouds the thoughts in your mind.

your body has a mind of its own, right hand tugging at the tufts of dark at his nape, while the left moves from his hip to trail across his navel. you grin when he bucks against your touch, yet gasp as sucks on your tongue. he consumes you entirely, and you’re all too willing to abide.

when he moves away, a string of silver keeps the two of you connected. you’re a whiny mess, mewling at him for more, and tugging at his sleeves for attention; while he sets his gaze on the sulking figure by your side.

“we’re leaving now. good luck studying, kid.” daichi calls out, smug look on his face.

he doesn’t even wait for a response, tugging you up and into his chest, while leading the way out of the library. stumbling a bit on wobbly legs, you grip his toned arms to steady yourself, as he holds onto your waist.

“dai.” you murmur, pushing up against him. “are we going to dinner now?”

“dinner?” he repeats, staring at you from the corner of his eyes. nodding your head, you feel the coil in your tummy tighten as his hand trails down to trace the underside of your ass. “forget about dinner, angel, i’m ready for my dessert.”

© 2020 AIIWA. please do not copy, modify or repost my work.

[anobscurename]

ocean eyes – chris evans

previous part: PART XIX — masterlist

concept: you finally have had enough. the slowest of slow burns. part twenty of many.

pairing: chris evans x reader

word count: 2,4k

warnings: you might cry; i know i did. angst.

author's note: i needed my comedic relief comfort characters for this one in the beginning tbh cause... well... you'll see. this one is for @miss-jackson500 because i haven't dedicated one to her yet and she's? amazing?!

You had wondered – for the days that followed – that if maybe the rescheduled meet-up hadn't been cut short by Anthony, if things would be different.

You came to the conclusion that all that really would've been different was that you'd know a little less.

"You're finally going to do it, huh?" Anthony grinned from across the pool table. You had, according to the original plan, all come together at the old bar where you'd first met the two. "You're going to tell him how you feel?"

"Is it a bad idea?" You asked, missing your shot. Your mind was heavily distracted, and it was showing through. You were usually wiping the floor with the duo, but now you were losing four balls to one.

"No, no, it's a fantastic idea," Anthony bent down to line up his next shot. "Tell her it's a fantastic idea, Seb. Better yet, tell me who the Black Widow should be with."

Sebastian, who had been sat to the side, waiting for his turn, rolled his eyes and took a swig of his beer. "I admit nothing until I see a ring."

"Speaking of rings!" Anthony jumped up excitedly – either from the prospect of marriage or the thrill of pocketing his ball, leaving team Falcon and Winter Soldier with just the black on the table – "I'm thinking a round cut two carat, set in rose gold? Colour scheme would he lavender, of course, because as best man–"

"You can get fucked if you think you're going to be best man."

"Of course I'm best man! Look at me, I'm the bestest man around, I'm fine as–"

"You can both get fucked if you think there's going to be a wedding," you laughed.

Anthony hissed a curse under his breath as he missed the winning pocket, reluctantly handing the cue off to Sebastian, who hopped off the stool to land gracefully on his feet.

You chalked your cue, determined to not lose yet another game to these dipshits. "I haven't even told him yet, what if he doesn't feel the same way?"

Anthony and Sebastian both looked at you, incredulous. "I mean this with only love, and it comes from a place deep within my heart... Are you blind?"

Sebastian was even balking. "Even I could tell, and I have the social skills of a pineapple."

"Okay, fine! You both are clearly biased, you saw us kiss."

"No, we watched a softcore porno is what we did, y'all devouring each other like that in public–"

He cut himself short, having to laughingly dodge himself out of the reach of your playful slap.

"I'm asking Scott for the final opinion," you proclaimed.

Sebastian rolled his eyes, eager to play and win the game, bouncing the end of the cue on the wooden bar floor. The rubber stop muted the noise.

You opened up the text thread you had been maintaining with the younger Evans. Should I tell Chris?

You didn't need to elaborate, Scott would know what you meant. There was a pause on his end, and you had just been about to put your phone away before his response bubbled up.

Sorry, was just changing your name in my phone to sister-in-law ;)

That was all the answer you needed.

You finished the game – you lost, mind overrun with giddiness and the odds having been stacked against you long before – and you were hugging Anthony goodbye.

When you'd asked where he was headed, he'd just given you a sly wink and a "wouldn't you like to know."

That left just you and Sebastian, and you decided to walk him back to his hotel before heading home.

"How long you going to be in L.A. for?" You'd asked, just to make conversation.

"A week or so, maybe? And then I'm jetting back to New York. I haven't been home in so long, I think the dust has taken over my lease."

You chuckled, and continued on in a pleasant silence.

You gave him a departing hug in the lobby, and hailed a cab back to Chris'.

You were so high on the exhilaration of finally telling him and ending this will they/won't they charade once and for all. So excited, you'd nearly missed the unfamiliar Bentley in the driveway on your way in.

But it didn't go unnoticed.

You came in, greeted happily by a yapping Dodger, and the smell that hit you was one of Valentino perfume – overpowering the usual scent of Chris lingering in the house.

"Hey, Dodge," you whispered, giving him a vigorous petting session. "Where's Chris? Where's your dad?"

Dodger gave your hand a wet lick, slobbering over your keys, and you laughed lightly.

The door to the pool was open, and you could hear splashing and giggling – pitched more feminine than you'd ever heard Chris go.

Curiosity killed the cat. And satisfaction was never going to resurrect the plummet of your excitement. No, that was replaced by shock and anger. Even if you knew you had no right to feel that way.

"Chris?" You'd called out as you padded across the lounge. "Chris, whose car is in the driveway? I have something I–"

Blindsided, your slobber slick keys fell from your hand to jangle uselessly onto the ground. It was that that finally grabbed his attention.

He had been otherwise excruciatingly preoccupied with the topless girl in his lap, legs locked around his waist in a languid grind, his hands smoothing over her curves as they all but explored each other's tonsils in a moaning kiss.

Red flashed across your vision as well as your cheeks, and you ducked your head. Embarrassed and feeling stupid, you quickly grabbed your keys. "I'm sorry, I'll go..."

You quickly turned and dashed to your room, ignoring the tears in your eyes, and the call of your name.

"{Your name}, wait!" Chris cried, water sloshing as he clambered out of the pool. "{Your name}!"

You slammed the door shut behind you, making it clear you wanted isolation. Pulling out a duffel bag, you began throwing clothes into it, careless of what you might need, just needing to leave.

Sebastian had asked you once how much more you were going to put yourself through before you'd had enough.

And this was it. This was the breaking point. This was enough.

The strength in which Chris frantically ripped open your door had it banging against the adjacent wall, but you couldn't even look at him. Your eyes were blurry as you continued violently packing your clothes.

You didn't even know where you were going to go. You just knew you had to. Go.

"{Your name}, stop," he said, soft in direct comparison to the panic he felt in his chest. You were leaving him. "What are you doing?"

"What does it look like?" You spat out. And then, just to change the subject, because not even you could bare to dwell on it too much: "You're getting water on your floor."

"{Your name}–"

"Don't talk to me, Chris. Rest your tongue a bit, it sure was busy earlier."

"As was yours, too, I'm sure," he bit back.

Your movements stuttered at the reciprocated rage. To your knowledge, he had no right to feel as you did in that moment. None.

"What the fuck is that supposed to mean?"

There was provocation in his eyes, and his searing gaze only fuelled your fire.

"Have fun with Sebastian?"

Your scoff was followed by a bewildered laugh. "I went out tonight with Sebastian and Anthony, Chris. We're friends. Welcome to the world of platonic relationships, professor, we've been waiting for your arrival."

And like the cut strings on a puppet, tension left his body – anger being replaced by confusion.

"I... I thought..."

"You thought wrong, Evans," you seethed, pushing past him to the bathroom to grab your toiletries. You made an effort to bump him, your shirt sticking to your skin with the water droplets still dotting his toned body. "And to think I really thought..."

"Thought what?" His voice cracked out.

"Thought that you might actually care about me!" You finally snapped. You were yelling. You didn't want to yell, but you were, voice echoing in the acoustics of the bathroom.

"I do," he whispered. His conviction was quickly draining from him, being replaced with an inevitable sadness and feeling of loss. You hadn't even left yet, but he knew that nothing he was going to say would make you stay. He knew he'd gone too far. It didn't stop him from trying. "I loved you, {your name}. I still do."

You had hoped that if he ever was to say those words, it would be under different circumstances. In fact, you'd found yourself imagining whole sunset beach scenarios, late into the night.

"I thought you were better than that, Chris. Manipulation? That's low."

"It's true. I've loved you–"

You didn't want to hear it. You weren't going to give him the opportunity of persuading you into staying. You knew you should've left long ago. "I can't say the feeling is mutual."

It was a lie. It was a lie, because if you really had felt nothing, then you wouldn't be acting like this. But you needed the upper hand, because Chris had basically knocked you over with the force of his admittance. You couldn't let yourself be dragged back in. Not this time. You had too much self respect for that. Not when he still had lipstick smudged on his lips, disappearing into the scruff that shadowed his jaw.

You had to avoid looking at his pained expression at your words. No matter how much you were hurting now at his profession of love, you knew he might possibly be hurting a little more at your rejection.

"And if you really did..." You trailed off, struggling to say the words love me. "Well, you have a really funny way of showing it."

"Pretending not to love you is the hardest role I've taken on, and I did it for you."

Red was dancing back into your vision, your shock growing alongside the fury.

"How is that for me?"

"Because that's what you wanted!" He was finding his voice again, raising it in his desperation. "Believe me, I wanted to fight for you. I would, would wage wars for you," he stuttered out. "But you never wanted that from me. You wanted to pull away, from this, from us. And I let you because I would do anything you asked of me."

"So you stayed away because you wanted to keep me?" You worded it slowly, just to make him understand how ridiculous it sounded.

"...Yes."

"Are you stupid? Actually mentally deficient?" You zipped your bag, brushing past him again, this time making sure to have as little contact as possible. He all but occupied the whole doorway.

"If I had told you then you would have left!" He was following you now, following you to the front door. "I told you I wanted you in my life, even if it meant the pain of never having you."

You had hoped to slam the door in his face to make your point known, but where Chris had slacked in fighting for you before, he was making up for now. He caught the door before it could close, trailing after you into the driveway.

"There's something wrong with me. I ruin things. So I let you have your space because you are the greatest thing that has happened to me in a long time, and I'd be fucked if I ruined you too!"

"It's a bit too late for that," you said, finally looking him in those ocean eyes. They were bloodshot with barely restrained tears. But your resolve was iron. "Congratulations, Evans. You've ruined me."

You heard Dodger pawing at the door, whining low and long for you. If you thought leaving Chris was hard, this was what made you break.

But you turned away from them, from that house, tears falling freely. A sob escaped your lips, barely stifled.

"Put on a shirt, Evans," you managed to get out. You wanted the last word, even if it brought very little satisfaction. "You have company."

———————

Your first call was to Anthony. He hadn't picked up, and you remembered his other plans.

The second also went unanswered – the friend who had become a self proclaimed L.A. local upon graduating high school, and who had let you crash at their house when you'd first arrived. She was probably at work, and so you left her a quick voicemail asking her to call you back.

The third did, on only the second ring. You had almost lost hope in anyone else being awake at that point, so you hadn't composed yourself before he picked up.

The first thing he heard was your sob, which you quickly cut off with a greeting.

"What's wrong?"

"Can I crash with you tonight? I need somewhere to go."

"What happened? Did–?"

"I don't want to talk about it," you said quickly. He shut up almost immediately. "I just... Please?"

There was a pensive silence on the other end, and you felt the need to fill it.

"I tried Anthony, but he wasn't picking up."

"Yeah," came the small chuckle crackling on the other end. "He's got a hot date tonight. Must be going well."

"I wouldn't do this if I had anywhere else to go, but I don't, and it'll only be for one night–"

"Of course you can stay," he assured, sushing you softly. "Can't believe I made you ask twice."

————————

Sebastian met you in the lobby, taking you up to his room almost immediately to avoid strange looks and any unwanted public attention.

He explained to you in the elevator that although he had tried to get you your own room, the hotel was fully booked. He sounded quite apologetic for that.

You didn't say much, because if you spoke, you were scared you were going to start crying all over again. And you'd just managed to stop, averting your eyes from your teadstained appearance in the mirrors.

Sebastian's room was a big one, on the pricier end of all the hotel had to offer. A large king sized bed stood to one side, bedsheets twisted as if he'd clambered into it right when he'd gotten back.

There was a lounge suite to the side, looking like a set-up you'd see on the glossy pages of Architectural Digest, and although the curtains were drawn, you could see the city lights sprawling out before you through the crack.

He was still in his outfit from the bar, shirt and jeans slightly rumpled.

The television was on, playing the original Nosferatu quietly in the background.

"I'll take the couch," Sebastian offered, dropping off the bags he'd taken from you.

You declined him with a shake of your head.

"{Your name}," he said, tender, placing both his hands on your shoulders to make you look at him. "You've been through a lot tonight. Take the bed, I've got the couch."

You didn't have the strength to fight his insistence. You didn't have the strength for much any more.

When you'd gotten out the shower, dressed in your pyjamas, Sebastian finally asked you again what had happened.

You just shrugged tiredly, climbing between the cool cotton sheets.

"I just had enough."

[euan112358]

Pet's Day Out

For @thelazyhermits​ and her fantastic TABF-verse, here's something that came to mind. Hope it's fluffy enough!

"And... there! That's the last one!" Mineta said, gently peeling the last cat's fur off of the sticky orb. The tabby cat immediately hopped to the ground and began washing itself, obviously glad to be free of its prison.

"Good," Y/N said, brushing bits of fur off her lap and grateful that it was still early enough in the spring for claw-proof long sleeves. "Now what have we learned, Mineta?"

"That cats don't like being stuck to my hairballs, Sensei?" the short boy answered apologetically. "Sorry about the fuss."

"No harm done," Y/N said with a smile. "I agree that it was funny at first, but we shouldn't leave the cats to be upset for too long. Now how about you apologize to Missy with some belly rubs?" As if in agreement, the tabby cat in question mrowled and rolled onto her back.

Mineta chuckled and dutifully got to work, while Y/N stretched her arms and looked around the front porch of the 1-A Heights Alliance dorm. It was such a lovely spring day that many of the neighborhood stray cats that Y/N had a habit of feeding and welcoming had come for their tribute, at the same time that several of the students had decided to take a study break and enjoy the fresh air.

Needless to say, everyone soon joined in with playing with the cute kitties. To make things even better, Kouda had also decided that today would be a good day to let his pet rabbit Yuwai out for a run, and Vlad King had asked Y/N if she could look after his bulldog Wally while he and his class had a special session at the USJ. So, with animals all around her, Y/N, 1-A and a few passersby had settled in for a lovely afternoon.

She saw Eri giggling as the cat in her arms nuzzled curiously at her long silver hair, the adorableness of which made Y/N want to melt.

She saw Ojiro nonchalantly strolling across the road, trying to look nonchalant even with the jingling bells tied with ribbon to his tail tip, and the coterie of cats following him trying to grab them. Hagakure followed close behind, holding her phone up and enjoying every moment. 

She saw Tokoyami having an intent staring match with a black cat that she recognized as a frequent and very intent visitor, while Dark Shadow and Asui played with some more behind his back.

She saw Yuwai and the excitable Lionheart chasing each other around the lawn while Kouda chased after them trying to keep order, while never losing his smile. Her sympathies went out to Kouda and Lionheart; she'd chased Yuwai down before and she knew they were in for a time.

She saw Jirou sitting under a tree and trying to focus on her guitar-playing, even as a bold kitty tugged insistently at one of her long earlobes. 

She saw Satou dutifully pouring out some more water and food for the cats.

She saw Todoroki looking down contentedly at Wally snoozing on his left knee, as well as the handful of kittens snoozing on Wally's back and even more cuddled up against Todoroki's side. If she couldn't find a picture of that at the end of the day, she'd have some choice words for the photographers.

She saw Shinsou snoozing against another tree, the gray Olivia curled up in his lap.

She saw Yaoyorozu dusting off her hands and stepping back from a cat tower that she had assembled next to the door with her powers and bare hands, and Sero placing a cat at the very top of it. 

She saw Shouji looking like a cat king, all six arms and his many grown hands scratching at cat ears, backs and bellies, while Uraraka and Ashido laughed at the sight. 

Y/N laughed too and leant back, looking up at the spring sky. Truly, nothing could spoil this day. 

Suddenly, as if in response to her thought, a sudden onset of loud yapping suddenly filled the air, and several of the cats, which had only just gotten used to Wally around, stiffened. The students looked up in confusion, and Shinsou cracked open an eye.

The next moment, Iida appeared next to Y/N, trying to hide his fluster under his usual steadfast personality. "Y/N-sensei! We require your assistance! And where's Kouda-kun?"

Kouda waved from where he was trying to keep the cats calm, while Y/N stood up. "Iida? What's wrong? Weren't you, Midoriya, Kirishima and Kaminari out on an errand?"

"We were, but then we found Bakugou-kun, and we thought it best to bring him back here and inform you!" Iida replied, hand raised as if swearing what he was saying was true.

"Bakugou?" Y/N said, completely befuddled. "Didn't his parents come to take him out for lunch with an old family friend today?"

"Indeed they did, but they ran into some trouble! See for yourself!" Iida pointed back to where Kaminari and Kirishima were walking up the street, not looking half as harried as their class president.

The reason for that was clear; they were too preoccupied with the three dogs that they were bringing along. All three were very fluffy Pomeranians, with the one following behind the boys a dark brown, rather placid male, and the one next to Kaminari a poofy blonde female, which kept shooting looks at Kirishima.

Or more accurately, at the yappy, very irate, and very familiar blond Pomeranian pup held securely in Kirishima's hardened arms.

Y/N's jaw dropped. "Bakugou?"

"Yep, and whoever did this to him must have got his family too," Kaminari said, gesturing at the pup's blonde mother - which could only be Bakugou Mitsuki - next to him.

"Aw! Bakugou's so cute as a puppy!" Ashido cooed, darting over and trying to pet the angry fluffball, who only just barked at her. "Still could use some anger management, as always!"

Y/N had to agree that Bakugou looked absolutely adorable, but she tried to focus on the issue. "When did you find them? Who did this to them?"

"We found them just running towards U.A., so I guess they were trying to find help," Kirishima shrugged. "We... never actually saw anyone use their Quirk on them, but come on! Three dogs that look almost identical to Bakugou and his parents; what are the odds that these are just some random dogs?"

"Well, if you didn't see who did this to them, maybe they did?" Y/N suggested. "Kouda! Mind giving us a hand?"

Kouda looked up, then looked back down as one of the cats he was trying to corral hissed at the newcomers. He held up one finger as he tried to herd the cats away and prevent a mass panic - which was proving to be just as complicated as implied. 

"You need a minute, Kouda?" Y/N called, and got a nod in return.

"I'll give him a hand, Y/N-sensei," Shinsou said, standing up, stretching and moving towards the slowly-dispersing feline crowd. Satou, Yaoyorozu and Asui also went to help.

"So where's Midoriya? Wasn't he with you?" Y/N asked. Wally, awakened by the sound, gamboled up to the new dogs and barked a hello. The adult dogs yapped hello in return, while the pup just snarled in agitation.

"He was, but Bakugou really didn't like having him around," Kirishima answered, jostling the dog in his arms. "Kept yapping louder than usual and making all of us go deaf. So he offered to walk around the area where we found him and see if anyone saw anything. He said he'd call if he found anything."

"That sounds sensible," Y/N said, reaching out to pet the Pomeranian too. The yappy fur ball only yapped louder at the sensation, but a firm growl from his mother made him eventually give in. "But I thought Bakugou and Midoriya were on better terms now."

Kirishima just shrugged. 

Eri trotted up, looking curiously at the snarling blond puppy. "Is this really Bakugou-san? It looks just like him!" Y/N and many of the students snorted to hide a smile, but the pup in Kirishima's arms kept yapping and growling.

The next few moments were spent petting and cooing over the dogs, before Kouda finally came back, the cats successfully ushered away.

Y/N gestured to the dogs. "Alright, Kouda, can you figure out who did this to Bakugou and his family."

Kouda nodded, bent down to the brown father, and started whispering to him. How he negotiated, Y/N had no idea, but she could see the growing confusion on his face.

Then, all at once, Kouda's eyes widened and he looked between all three dogs with a sense of realization. His head flicked almost comically between the dogs until he couldn't take it any more, and he broke down...

... with laughter.

Y/N and the 1-A students stared in confusion as Kouda sat down on the road, clutching his stomach and giggling his heart out. His laughter was as quiet as his words, but the way he was obviously busting a gut seemed to indicate that there wasn't a major problem with.

Despite herself, Y/N couldn't help but smile at the laughter. "Kouda? What's so funny?"

Kouda just shook his head, too amused to even explain himself. Then the next moment, more laughter filled the air as, for no apparent reason, Jirou and Shouji started to laugh and chortle along with him.

Iida's head flicked between his three classmates, growing more indignant and frustrated. "Kouda-kun! Jirou-kun! Shouji-kun! What on earth are you laughing about? Your classmate has been turned into a dog, with no idea who did it or how long their Quirk may last, and all you can do is laugh about it?!"

Shouji just shook his head, leaning back against the tree he was sitting against. Chest still heaving with laughter, he raised one arm and pointed down the road, and right on cue, Midoriya spoke up.

"Ah... Iida-san, I think I may have the answer.."

"WHAT THE HECK IS THIS?!"

Bakugou's voice caught everyone's attention, and they all turned around. There, coming up the road beside Midoriya, were Bakugou and his parents, completely human and looking rather bemused. Well, his father Masaru certainly was and his mother Mitsuki looked more amused, but Bakugou was his usual irate self.

Midoriya rubbed his head sheepishly. "I met them on the way in, and they couldn't understand why I was so excited, so I just led them here instead..."

Kaminari's face lit up. "Bakugou! You're alright! And you're not a dog!"

"Of course I'm alright, Derp-face! Nothing happened while we were out! And what do you mean by dog-" Bakugou's eyes widened when Kirishima turned around, revealing the spiky-furred blond pup in his arms. The moment it laid eyes on Bakugou, its yapping and snarling ratcheted up by an order of magnitude.

Bakugou pointed one incredulous finger at the fuzzball. "You thought that was me?!"

"And that these were your parents, transformed by a Quirk," Kirishima added, pointing to the other two dogs. "It... made sense at the time?"

"That hairball looks nothing like me!" Bakugou roared indignantly, the pup snarling just as loudly in unison.

His classmates, however, disagreed, given how they were all guffawing at the sight. The laughter only redoubled when both Bakugou and the puppy started snarling at everyone in perfect sync.

Mitsuki burst out laughing too when the mother Pomeranian trotted up to her. "You sure about that, brat? The resemblance is uncanny!" Her husband nodded, examining the brown Pomeranian papa, who by now had settled on the grass for a nap.

"I was trying to tell you," Kouda managed to get out through his giggles. "Those dogs weren't Bakugou and his parents; they're just some strays looking for food! It was all one big coincidence that they all look so alike!"

Mitsuki laughed, putting out a hand for the mother dog to sniff. "Well if that's the case, Masaru dear, maybe we can make some room to adopt them? With Katsuki living in the dorms, the house has been feeling a bit empty, and it'd be a great conversation-starter..."

"NOT ON YOUR LIFE, YA OLD HAG!"

"Sounds like a great idea!" Sero called out. "Maybe if Bakugou becomes a Baku-bro, he'll lighten up a bit!"

"Oh! Oh! And you can name him Dokkan!" Ashido chimed in. Soon all the kids were throwing out name suggestions, much to the ire of Bakugou and his pup-counterpart and the amusement of their parents.

Aside from Bakugou, the only one not laughing now was Iida, whose head was pivoting back and forth between the dogs and the humans he thought they were. His mouth opened and closed, but the only thing he could get out was, "But... but..."

Y/N smiled knowingly at the class president. "Jumped to conclusions again, didn't you, Iida?"

[wolfpawn]

I Hate You, I Love You, Chapter 161

Chapter Summary - Tom is irked to see Danielle did not tell him about her physio and then she dreams something horrid.

Previous Chapter

Rating - Mature (some chapters contain smut)

Triggers - references to Tom Hiddleston’s work with the #MeToo Movement. That chapter will be tagged accordingly.

authors Note - I have been working on this for the last 3 years, it is currently 180+ chapters long.  This will be updated daily, so long as I can get time to do so, obviously.

Copyright for the photo is the owners, not mine. All image rights belong to their owners

tags: @sweetkingdomstarlight-blog @jessibelle-nerdy-mum @nonsensicalobsessions @damalseer @hiddlesbitch1 @winterisakiller @fairlightswiftly @salempoe @wolfsmom1 @black-ninja-blade

Tom pursed his lips and looked at Danielle as she went across the bedroom towards the bathroom, walking stiffly as she did. In the warm weather, Danielle was not able to hide her kinesiology tape for too long and the tape on her left shoulder was quickly joined by more on her right knee after placing on the podium in a Sprint triathlon race, telling him that she had in fact been to a physiotherapist, more than once. He had been annoyed by her not telling him, but it was made very clear that she had not told him because she did not want him to fret, which, irony of ironies, he did all the more because she had not told him. To Tom's dismay, that did not cause her to cease or even calm her training, instead she just focused on cycling to allow her shoulder settle some bit and to relieve her leg of her weight, but she continued to train, with almost greater intensity. She also seemed to spend an hour a day stretching and using an assortment of different objects that seemed more akin to torture implements than physio instruments, hissing and groaning as she worked out the tension in her muscles. Looking at the date on his phone, Tom yearned for early September, knowing that the sooner she achieved this goal, the sooner this madness would end and she would cease this insane training.

When she came back into the room, there was almost a guilty look in her face as she sat onto the bed and then slid in between the sheets again and tried to get comfortable. She knew to move around too much would only bring focus to her injuries more and that Tom was less than pleased with regards her current physical status, so she remained still, even with a throbbing knee, to not cause an issue.

Tom, however, could hear the pain in her breathing and turned slightly before gently urging her to him. “If you're hurting, you need to pull back.”

“I can't.”

“One good reason?”

“I was late beginning my training, I would actually be more at risk of injury if I fell off pace and then tried to push myself more at a later date.”

“Training already injured is only going to intensify the injury. What was it you said to me before, all pain, no brain?”

Danielle sighed. “I'm getting older. My body never niggled like this before after races and in training.”

“You never pushed it like this before, but yes, I too found that after thirty, my body was less likely to spring back from a training session.” He pulled her in against him. “I know I come across as slightly nagging, but I don't want you overdoing it and I loathe seeing you hurt yourself.”

“I know.” Danielle leant in against him, inhaling his scent. “I'm sorry for stressing you, I am a terribly selfish person recently. There's two of us in this and here I am, doing this when it impacts you too.”

“It's only a few more weeks, really. We can do it. A month is not a long time.” Tom consolidated.

Danielle considered his words for a moment, realising that time was closing on the date of her act of lunacy. She also thought if the last time she and Tom had been intimate. It had been weeks and not once did he bother her about it. He respected that the training was exhausting her, as was her paperwork for her job, not to mention her feelings regarding parenthood were intensifying even more of late. She also knew that he had to have been feeling slightly neglected. For all of his comments on his body's slower recovery, she knew that more than once, Tom was very much willing and able to exert himself with her twice in a short timeframe and felt sexual urges on a regular basis and with her not keen to have sex, he was left with just dealing with himself.

With that in mind, she looked at him again, focusing on his face, which was slightly hidden by his longer beard. Realising she was looking at him, Tom looked at her curiously. Even though it did her shoulder little favour, she shirked up slightly and placed her lips against his.

At first, Tom relished the sensation, but a moment after, he leant back, shaking his head slightly. “Your shoulder.”

Danielle could not argue it. She wanted to but it was not assisting her back to health. Groaning, she leant her head to his chest. “I feel like I should pull out of the race.” Tom stared at her startled, a moment before she stated she would not lessen her training, now she was speaking of pulling out. “I am being stupid with this.”

“No, this is a goal of yours, it has been for longer than I know you. You're a month out. Just relax your training and you will have a shoulder after it.”

“It's not my shoulder I'm worried about.”

Tom frowned before looking at her to see her looking at him worriedly. “Elle, I asked you to marry me in the middle of this madness. It was not a momentary lapse of sanity that caused me to do so, I planned it for some time. I was and am still fully aware of the situation at present and I respect that this and everything associated with it were merely temporary and we will soon be planning our wedding instead but this is one month more. One month. It's completely doable and please don't think for one moment that I am going to run off because of this.”

“It's weird to think we are going to be planning a wedding,” she confessed. “I still can't wrap my head around it fully. It negates your statement with regards a lack of sanity anyway.”

Tom chuckled. “No, insanity would have been letting you slip through my fingers. Not seizing my chance to make you my wife.” He paused for a moment before taking a deep breath. “Even saying that, that you will be my wife.” It was clear how happy the thought made him, causing Danielle to beam back.

“By this time next year.” Tom's eyes widened. “If you want, if course, no need to….”

“You'd want it that soon?” There was no denying the hope in his voice.

“Well, it's been over a month since you asked and we agreed a year so, yes. I thought it a good time frame.”

“In a year, we...Jesus.” he chuckled again and pulled her against him even more, kissing her head. “I love you. We better get up though.”

“Walk the boys?”

“They prefer it in this weather, don't they?”

Danielle nodded and sighed before pulling herself up with her better arm before sitting on the bed.

“If you're too sore…”

“No, I'm best off exercising it gently.” She stretched, hissing as her shoulder burned from the stretch.

Tom looking at her awkwardly, wanting to say something but wondering if he should, he chose to say nothing when he looked at her face to see her angry with herself. “We better go, in case that yapping rat is there again. I swear, it only acts like that because that horrid woman allows it to and knows that were Mac to get at it…”

“If Mac wished to, he could chomp it in two, but yes, you know that is why it is like that, and part of me thinks she wants him to do it. She knows who you are, I think she wants publicity,” There was more than a hint of dislike in Danielle’s tone for the woman that seemed almost wanting her pet to be injured by not having any form of manners placed on it. They said little else as they readied to get the dogs exercised before the temperatures went into the twenties again, something that was a rare occurrence in Britain and of late, seemed the norm, which most Britons, and indeed Irish people and animals were not able for, Danielle, Tom and the dogs included.

*

Tom could help but chuckle.

Danielle woke and was in the most horrendous of moods, sulking and growling to herself. At first, he was worried if something was wrong, but then he realised nothing was. Then he fretted that she was annoyed at him as she was giving him slight angry glances but when he asked was there issue with him, she scoffed and revealed it was an issue with herself. It took a little prying as she seemed slightly embarrassed by it but in the end, she revealed what it was. She had dreamt the night before that Tom had cheated on her, something Tom was immediately shocked to hear but even she dismissed it, not believing him one to do such a thing, the only issue was, the imagery of him doing such caused her to get upset, her stomach clenching at the idea of such everytime she thought of it or even looked at him, causing her current behaviour. Tom reassured her that there was no likelihood of that happening anytime in the foreseeable future or indeed at all, so to cease her fretting and that were he to take leave of his senses and think a mad thought that perhaps there was a possibility of another to entice him elsewhere, he would never be so cruel as to do such a backhanded thing to her. Danielle acknowledged such, she did not even consider it a possibility when she thought about it on her waking but that only caused her anger to irk her more. She did not want to be annoyed over non-issues yet she was being. Even after a run and a swim, she was still bothered but it actually caused her to scoff and laugh at herself, which was leading to Tom’s amusement as a result also.

“It’s not funny,” She growled.

“You’re laughing.”

“I am scoffing at my stupid brain.”

“And I am laughing at the preposterousness of it.”

She did not retort.

That night in bed, he noticed Danielle was all but holding onto him for her life. “I would never do that to you,” he assured.

“I know.”

“Then what has you like this?”

“Because even the thought of it breaks my heart.” She looked at him pleadingly. “Please Tom, if you’re not happy, I’d rather know.”

Tom inhaled deeply and recalled when he was on the Infinity War tour, how part of him felt that, even though he had the engagement ring readied to ask her when the time was right, he felt that asking her was to ask her to be okay with him being in close contact with women, many of whom would be incredibly beautiful and he would, on occasion, be in scenes where he, they or indeed both of them would be in some state of undress or all out naked and be in positions that many would argue to be intimate which he wondered would she be okay with that all the time. As time would go on, she would have to deal with scenes where the man she married had to kiss other women and touch them and though there would no true intimacy, he knew it was a lot to ask of her. He had discussed it with Ben and a few of other actors and gotten the same answer, it caused strain, even in the happiest relationships and with her dream the night before, he wondered what effect such things had on her in general. He could not fathom being in the situation of the partner forced to endure that. He knew that with his co-stars, there was little or nothing of an attraction to any of them. It was a scene, nothing more. The High Rise sex scenes with Sienna and Kate, he saw them in the same manner as he saw the fight for paint scene but if it had been Danielle who had been the actress doing such things with other men, he couldn’t stomach that Irish vet and the manner he all but stated he had expected Danielle to favour him. The idea slipped into his mind of Danielle and...John, he could not recall the man’s name for a moment, or indeed her with any other man gave him a feeling in his gut like he had been electrocuted and punched by Mike Tyson in this prime in the gut simultaneously. At that moment, her behaviour that day made a lot more sense. He pulled her in closer to him, fully aware that her left shoulder was still recovering, thankfully, the tape had been removed for the most part, but it was still slightly tender, so he ensured not to hurt her.

“Tom?”

“Hmm?”

“You’re tense.”

“I put myself in your shoes.”

“In what manner?”

“I imagined how it would feel if you…” He could not even finish the sentence.

Danielle moved around gingerly until she had her sore shoulder comfortable and curled herself into her favourite spot, her head on his shoulder/chest and her hand on his side, his immediately joining it, intertwining their fingers. “I would never do that to you, I couldn’t.”

Tom gave a small smile. “I am enough work.”

“Oh Jesus, two fella’s, I couldn’t have the energy if I was the Duracell bunny. One’s enough.” She jested back, causing Tom to chuckle and kiss her.

[ghostlykay]

You write for Nubbins?? If so, could you write Nubbins x (female) S/O cuddling, or anything fluff? Thank you!

I will ALWAYS write for Nubbins because he is SUCH a guilty pleasure. Thank you so much for sending this in, @slashxr !!

Warning(s): nothing atypical of Canon. Long post under ‘read more’!

There were sparse moments when the house fell into utter stillness. Even evenings usually were interrupted by something. Bubba’s steps fell with power, his staggering pace sounded unabashed as he tended to one of the household tasks regardless of hour. Drayton, on the other hand, rarely interrupted the night. Having perhaps the only set work hours out of the entire family, he’d bark at the others to “shut their yaps” and “mind his beauty sleep”. It’d occasionally earn him your silent approval as you preferred to sleep undisturbed too. 

Nubbins, however, was at all odds with his sleep, his labors, his everything. At some forsaken hour, he’d once enter the home with all the grace of blundering cattle, howling for Bubba, who thundered over to meet him with squealing giddiness. Drayton, shortly thereafter, had been screaming at them, the threat of beating them both high in the air. Whether they succumbed to the promised bludgeoning, you never found out. Sadly, just as your muscles eased back into a molding mattress, an erratic rapping sounded at your door. 

                                                           Record timing. 

You momentarily considered ignoring the knocking in lieu of some well-deserved rest, but as the tapping began to crescendo, you figured it would be better to answer than risk Drayton’s temper. It wasn’t uncommon for one of the brothers to inevitably wind their way up to your room anyways; after all, as a technical victim of the Sawyer family, you weren’t exactly in a position to deny their visits. Sometimes, it was Bubba, simply dropping off a twisted trinket with a happy babble. Every now and again, it was Drayton himself. Rarely, though. It only seemed he felt the need to pervade your room when his paranoia had unjustly spiked. And, at odd times, it was the visitor who graced your doorway now: Nubbins, as he twitched and grinned unabashedly at your arrival. 

“Good evening, Nubbins,” you murmured, a tired smile splitting your features at his anxious demeanor.

“Oh, hey--hey there. You ain’t busy, right? Got somethin’ I need to show you.” 

Beady eyes darted seemingly anywhere but at you, twitching eyelids blinking rapidly while fingertips jerked and twisted with unseen thoughts. 

“For you? I’m always free,” you replied kindly, already reaching for the sheer robe to cover the thin flannel of your sleepwear. Folding the stolen fabric over your body, you found the Sawyer man had risked a glance at you before turning away. Arching arms beckoned for you to follow. You stifled the urge to giggle at his theatrics, and as directed, trailed after him. Although he seemed nearly playful in his erraticism, you couldn’t shake the inkling that he was trying his best to not look at you. Peek at you, yes, but whenever his own twitchy gaze met yours, it flustered him; actions turned even more nervous. So much so that when you caught his side-stare while pulling the attic’s ladder down, he almost startled, hands suddenly finding the simple latch very difficult to grasp and pull. 

“Nubbins, let me---” You offered, only for him to shove your raised hand from him, muttering unintelligibly under his breath. While your lips pursed, he seemed far more agitated at himself than your offer. Despite his erratic nature, you couldn’t help the admiration for him you harbored close. 

From a young age, you’d always a hunger for the…..odd. Rather, you were fascinated by the grotesque, the occult even. When your original art piece was shown to your parents, they’d been disgusted by the morbid colors, the unsightly sprawl, and overall abstract imagery of what you’d titled as “Death”. Though no solid shapes had formed on the canvas, as it was a school project, your inspiration was clear. You recalled fondly the research that had been put into that piece; the wonderful, gritty photos stolen from the library of picked apart bones, plucked eyes, and even the morbid, partially censored criminal shots of victims long passed. “Anthropology” had been your cover-up field for the darker passions behind these interests. In reality, it was just a warped pleasure of yours. 

                   A pleasure Nubbins encouraged with giddy delight and relished. 

Despite his previous dismissal, crooked hands grasped wildly at yours, dragging you up into the dusty space before leading you through another hatch, and then finally settling you onto the roof beside him. You’d expected the motive behind his clutching interest to be another art piece. After all, he’d been surprisingly quiet for a spell. The alarming change from the week prior, where he’d been threatened to be belted by Drayton personally for all his spastic energy, to this one where he’d sat through dinner with only drumming fingertips and absent staring was offputting. You’d meant to ask him what had been on his mind. You really had. But, every time you’d sought him out, he’d disappear into thin air. Bubba, bless his heart, had yammered out various reasons when you’d asked his whereabouts, but whether he was informing you of his location or covering for him, you never knew. 

                                       “You ain’t ever leavin’.” 

You arched a brow at that. This was nothing new to you; they couldn’t risk you outside their watchful eye. Period. You’d honestly long abandoned the idea of escaping anyways. What point was there to return to a world where your passions were discouraged?

“And---and, well, since you’s not goin’ nowhere---well, you know, ain’t nowhere out of here---without us---I been thinkin’. Well, not us.You know, not them, but just us, y’know?” 

You didn’t know. It didn’t help that, while he spoke in a stuttered afterthought, he was desperately pawing at himself. He must have finally found the object of his frenzied searching because, after a long pull of silence, a thin box was forced into your hands. Though the tilt of confusion never left your features, you slowly brought the parcel up to your gaze. Under the moonlight, you noted that it must have once been a silver shade, the metallic paint on it having long since faded. You supposed the scrawl along the front must’ve been your name, and although the spelling was somewhat off, you felt your cheeks flush at the sentiment. 

“Thank you,” you whispered, already beaming at the fact he was giving you a gift. 

                   “Don’t th-thank me. Not--not yet! Open it!” 

You obliged, gasping. Inside, folded on top of parchment, a thin, iron chain ended with a heavy pendant. Encased in ivory bone fragments, the locket held a polished, tawny stone in its center. It reflected the starry night’s dazzling eyes beautifully. While carefully cut bone-fragments circled the center jewel in a pattern akin to a ribcage, gentle fingers flicked it open, wonderstruck that it opened with such ease. Protected by the elements, a single photo was crammed haphazardly under the rim. With a little maneuvering, you were able to pull it free, unfolding it quickly, and feeling a warm surge of adoration at the image in hand. 

                                       By first glance, it meant nothing. 

However, the atmosphere told a domestic tale. Drayton sat comfortably, if begrudgingly in the corner. His grizzled features rarely strayed from that disgruntled look, but for Nubbins’ amusement, he had flashed him a wry, side smile. Bubba was poking bits of meat through the chicken’s cage, and though no sound could be heard, she was certain he was cooing (as he did) at the clucking bird. Unlike Drayton, he seemed unaware of the photography session. Probably for the better, you mused. Poor Bubba got so flustered when it came to his picture being taken. Then, there was Nubbins, the camera man himself. While part of his face was cut off, his wild-eyed grin was unabashed, present, and peering directly into what must’ve been a blinding flash.

Then, there was you in the background. A member to the madness. Apart of the family. 

You vaguely remembered him taking the photo, but you couldn’t recall your thoughts in the moment. You could feel the flush of heat rise to your cheeks, a sudden wave of sentiment stinging your eyes.

“ I--I been thinkin’, since you’re not goin’ nowhere, and neither am I, thought....well, I thought you’d be my girl? I’m the best lookin’ one of these sorry sons of a----”                       

He didn’t finish. You didn’t let him. In an instant, you pounced on top of him, one arm looped around his neck while the other clutched his present into your chest. He startled at the feeling of your lips upon his, hands scrabbling to grasp at your shoulders in obvious surprise. 

                                       His hesitation didn’t last. 

Lips moved against yours in clumsy passion. His fingertips found purchase in your hair, knotting in their grasp and desperately pulling you closer, drawing you partially onto his scrawny lap. Breaths stuttered. His tongue lapped at yours, begging to deepen the kiss, in which you parted your lips, allowing him to. You were oblivious to the cutting edge of cardboard into your bosom, the need for air, everything. It wasn’t until Nubbins withdrew a hair’s breadth away to plant a series of feather-light pecks to your throat did you remember anything, remembered he needed an answer. Despite your keening desire, you pushed him away. 

“Is that not a-a ‘yes’?” He huffed against your skin, hawk nose settled in the crook of your neck.  

“Of course, it’s a yes,” you laughed before pulling him to yet another kiss.

[agent-yolk-writes]

Friends Like You and Us - Venom!Reader - Ch. 5

Successfully (hopefully) queued at the stroke of midnight to bring you the latest chapter of some spider shenanigans. Fresh off the back of AO3!

In this episode: The gang throws spaghetti at the wall until something sticks, Noir enjoys playing with the remote, you have a breakdown for five minutes, and your aunt really needs to get her shit together for important business trips.

I also made a master list! Anyone new who wants to start or the veterans who want to revisit that one part in that one chapter!

AO3 Version | Masterlist

”Welcome to the first, and hopefully only, Spider-Persons conference. First off, I would like to thank (First Name) for hosting us and fixing up drinks with what they had to work with. Our main objective tonight: get everyone back to their proper universes before we don’t feel so good anymore…” Ham eccentrically led the charge of the brainstorm session. He managed to clap the lights off and pulled down a projector screen out of nowhere, the screen flashing crude images of the four of you finding a potential solution with lines and circles everywhere. It almost looked like what football coaches had to look at. Staring down on all of you squeezed on the couch he added, ”...any ideas?” Before clapping the lights back on, shooting the screen back from where it came.

Not risking what damage you might’ve inflicted on your phone, you pursued what you were looking for on your laptop while being squished to the side of the couch. It’s loading speeds left something to be desired, but it’s still functional and you can’t complain. Venom does about the heat, but that’s out of your control.

Over the horizon of your screen, you could see Peni, seated in the middle, pulling a projection of your New York out of nowhere and zoomed in on your current location. You weren’t really paying attention to what she was saying as she played around with the map. You were internally arguing with your backseat navigator on where you say the post last, only to find out the mods did indeed removed it from the search bar. Now you’re left in a predicament.

Try finding news archives.

Oh...Oh yea...No wonder I keep you around.

Where was he when you had to take the SATs?

He was right. Spider-Man’s death was the national news! There were so many news choppers around that it almost risked the two of you being forced apart by sound alone. Because of that, as well as the risk of you getting caught, you didn’t feel it was safe enough to investigate it yourself. Thanks to the media, you didn’t have to do the heavy lifting.

“You thinking it could be Osbird?” You heard Ham ask.

“Osbird? Ain’t it supposed to be Osborn?” Noir questioned.

“(First Name)!” Peni calls to you. “Does the Green Goblin exist in this universe?”

Didn’t he...

Died with Spider-Man.

“...Exist

ed

. I think he got killed in the same explosion.” You mentally high fives your companion for being a database for most things super. Good thing your universes are very similar.

Still, that doesn’t help your allies as your enhanced ears heard Ham cursing under his breath.

To alleviate some of the pain you added, “...If it helps, I think he was working for this guy named Wilson Fisk.”

“Kingpin…” Everyone else said at the same time. “What in the Sam hell is he scheming?” Noir grimly added. Glancing at the Wikipedia page for him, apparently he has more money than god. Of course he would be living in NYC. That’s where all the corrupt billionaires live!

You wouldn't happen to know him, right?

Never met him.

Well, there goes your first potential lead. The first news article that pops up is Fisk sending his condolences to the aunt of Spider-Man, May Parker, as well as his wife Mary Jane. He released a sympathetic statement relating what it’s like to lose someone close. A jump to his Wiki states that he had a wife and son that were killed during a high-speed car crash. There were rumors for a while about the wife being the one in the speeding car, but all whispers were quickly squashed before the sun could rise the next day. Money really is an effective superpower these days.

Another article tells you that he’s been heavily involved in Alchemax, a business he acquired a few years ago. His main advisor and the one who looks after the company while he’s away is Doctor Olivia Octavius, a woman with the frizziest hair ever. You vaguely recall watching a documentary she was the main star in during your science class, but you didn’t really absorb what she was saying.

Your fingers rubbed your eyes to relieve some strain. It felt like listening to Hannah yapping non-stop about any villain Spider-man even looked at during lunch. Ever since this whole series of wacky events dragged you into this mess, you have just the right about of knowledge on at least the most popular, infamous really, supervillains.

“Welcome back to Inside Edition-” The new voice almost triggered your fight or flight responses if you didn’t look up and see that the television was on playing tonight’s Inside Edition. Wait, you didn’t turn it on. Looking to your left, you realized it was the only other person left on the couch with you and, thus, the closest one to the table with the remotes.

Squinting at Noir with tired eyes, you asked, “What are you doing?”

The monochrome detective was fixated on gripping the device in various locations. “Interesting...it doesn’t have wires, and yet it calls the huge black mirror to awake. It doesn’t run on steam or heat, not to mention it’s so tiny.” Surely they had batteries back then, right?

“Yea. That’s what remotes are.” You commented. “They were made so we don’t have to get up every time to change the channel. You can even change the volume to hear better...the long ones with the plus and minus on it.”

“And please do.” Ham waved his hand to get both of your attention. “I think something important is coming up.” You didn’t even have to question him as the television had the collapsed remnants of Spider-Man’s final stand being narrated by a blonde woman you can’t piece the name of.

“While the world still mourns the loss of Spider-Man, many are still trying to pick up the pieces of his final moments to paint a picture. Tonight, Insider Edition has gained exclusive footage from one of the first helicopters on sight of the explosion. What you’re about to see is graphic and may upset some viewers. Take a look-”

The camera switched to a shaky camera arriving on the scene. For a few seconds, you could see the East River and the Williamsburg Bridge that connects Manhattan and Brooklyn before it forces the viewers to focus on a trail of smoke coming from a crater.

“What used to be one of Wilson Fisk’s many investments is now up in smoke. There’s no word yet if there are any other casualties in the explosion. It is rumored that this building was used to hold scientific research and experimentations in the medical field. We tried contacting Fisk for a comment, but he has yet to respond.”

It cuts to another angle, and you could see a blur hiding away something red and blue. The original cameraman holding it let out a gasp and said something expletive. “We censored this for the viewers at home, but it was here that the camera crew noticed the body of Peter Parker, better known as Spider-Man, unmoving-”

The feeling in your stomach only got worse as the newsreel goes on. You felt upset to point of nausea. You wanted to tear your eyes away from all this sad news but at the same time, you don’t. You were there when the news broke out, you were at his funeral hiding behind one of the church’s spirals as his widow encouraged others wearing his mask that they too can be a hero. You could still remember the bile burning your throat that night, muttering ‘what-ifs’ to yourself as if you were the cause of his death.

You’ve only paid attention to him because he was your solstice to your new powers, but he’s now gone, leaving the two of you in the dark. You should be over this, but for some reason, you’re not.

“I-We’re going to bed. Goodnight.” With a slam of your laptop, you didn’t give them time to react before you slammed the door to your room shut and placing your desk chair under the knob as a security measure. You needed to be alone right now.

If it wasn’t for your companion supporting your body, you would’ve slammed your head on the bed frame. You were that much of a wreck that Venom had to assume control to get you safely on the bed.

“Talk to me, (First Name).” He rarely calls you by your name.

“I-I…” You got distracted with the tears streaming down your face. “I’m scared. It...It’s all coming crashing down on m-me now.” You grabbed the nearest pillow and stuffed your face in it. While anyone else couldn’t comprehend the muffled wailing through the pillow, Venom could hear you perfectly. “I don’t wanna do this! I never did!” After sobbing in silence for what could’ve been minutes, you let go of it to hug your knees. “Last month I thought about pursuing a career in journalism. How can I do that now? Now that I have a bugged alien in my system tearing me apart with him! Explain that to me, Venom!” You’re trying so hard not to alarm your compatriots outside your door, but you’re too exhausted emotionally at this point to properly check yourself at this point.

You could feel Venom’s tendrils wiping away your tears. His inky forehead bumps into yours like a cat. “(First Name), look at us. Breathe.” His voice rumbles something comforting in your chest. You couldn’t help but close your eyes and breathe alongside him. “That’s it…”

The room was quiet except for your synced breathing and the occasional sniffling. More minutes have passed and already you feel better than earlier.

“I...I’m sorry, Vee.” You whispered. “Everything just...happened, all at once. You, the other Spiders...I think this is what they call ‘imposter syndrome’ kicking in, I dunno.” Forcing out a laugh to ease the tension, you continued. “I just...felt out of place, having to put wool over our eyes to believe we’re sheep too. I hope we don’t have to suffer any longer. If everything works out, I don’t think anyone would have a clue about you...about us.”

Your symbiote friend curled himself around the pillow you were still latching onto. While it doesn’t feel like a genuine embrace, it’s the best thing you can work with.

“Do...Do you think tomorrow will be a better day?” You whisper.

“...I don’t know.” You’re not surprised at that answer. “We’re in a deep bond, we can’t lie to you even if we tried.”

“Do...Do you think it’ll affect whenever we find a way back to your home? The whole bonding thing?”

“...”

“...Vee?” You remembered him explaining about bonding briefly, when you had nightmares from his previous hosts. Symbiotes don’t really exist in this universe, so there’s no real documentation or even a tabloid piece about it.

“It's hard to say for certain. At this rate, we might die if this ’Kingpin’ lead gives us nothing to work on.”

”Yeah...That’s true.” You agreed, letting out a deep sigh. “But he has influence all over the place. He could hide anything if he waves enough money under someone’s nose.”

“Then we’ll eat them. Simple as that.” Venmo’s enthusiasm made you chuckle a bit.

“Well try not to eat their hands if there’s a fingerprint lock.”

“No promises. Now sleep.”

“Yeah yeah…” You snuggled deeper into your hugging pillow. “Night, Vee. Tomorrow’s gonna be better, I hope.”

“Goodnight, (First Name).” With that, you closed your eyes. If you went to sleep any later, you would’ve caught a conversation of two certain spiders from outside and something about a goober.

~

Outside of your room, the others were fixated on what came on after seeing the remnants of the explosion.

“Social media is blowing up over this mystery figure seen all across Manhattan. Blink and you’ll miss it, but it looks like there’s already someone taking the shape of Spider-Man!” It was a set of shaky pictures and so-called ‘tweets’ of people freaking out.

“On person tweeted quote, “Some nightmare version of Spider-Man just passed my window, i think that’s my sleep paralysis demon #fml.” Another reported saying quote, “I think I saw it ate the local drug dealer whole. gross. to think i had to witness vore at four in the morning. stay classy, nyc.””

“Our sources at PDNY say that this mysterious person, if it even is a person, is not believed to be involved in Spider-Man’s death. However, they are a person of interest in multiple disappearance cases involving convicted felons that have been released from prison ranging from drug dealers to serial killers.”

“PDNY reminds everyone that if they see something, say something.”

The trio looked at each other, an unspoken question is trying to be answered. Ham was the only one who looked at the door where you entered for the night before passing air through his lips.

“Pfft, there’s no way.” He says to Peni and Noir. “I mean, what are the chances? They’re too nice and they’re housing us. If they were harboring a murderous symbiote, they would’ve told by now...right? Right?”

~

A surprise pair of glitching and convulsions woke you up earlier that day. Not wanting to feel sick by getting up immediately, you just lied there and drifted up for two hours or so before a series of knocks jolted your sleep away.

“Rise and shine, kid!” Noir yelled.

“We got a mission!” Peni added enthusiastically. A mission? This early? A glance on your phone, however, says it’s almost 10 in the morning. So much for going to school.

You pushed your upper body off the bed with a groan. Venom pushes himself back under your body and into your ‘pajamas’.

“Mmmf...it’s too early for hero stuff..” You grumble, wiping off any remnants of sleep. “Don’t heroes have...unions, or whatever?” Was among the other incoherent grumbles as you washed up and got ready for the day.

Finishing your wakeup routine in the bathroom, you were immediately greeted with your three inter-dimensional companions bustling around as much as they can in such a small apartment. SP//dr’s hanging out on the fire escape ladder, but his visor is lighting up inside so you can barely make out Peni hard at work with something. Noir’s holding the remote, continuously surfing channels and not really stopping at all even at the channels that play classic black and white film. Ham is...stacking a tower from whatever he can find on the fridge. You pray he didn’t see the unopened package of black forest ham you know that’s in there.

Of course, Ham was the first one to notice you staring at him. “What? I’m a growing pig.” Before you could even answer that, he slides the leaning tower of breakfast into his mouth in a single bite. You couldn’t help but be impressed yet slightly jealous.

The mech’s visor slides open and out pops out Peni. “Good morning! Sorry we didn’t wake you up earlier, but the phone rang.” She explains.

“Did you...answer it?” You asked with an eyebrow popped up.

“Well…” She looks down, pushing her pointer fingers together like she’s hiding something she broke. “We tried, buuut...we couldn’t figure out how to actually answer it.”

You looked over at the home phone. It wasn’t anything special, just a wireless phone that you had to press a button in order to answer an incoming call. “...You don’t have cordless phones in your home universe?”

“Everything’s at my fingertips, so I don’t need one at home.” Was her defense.

“Mine has a sleek new design that looks like a candlestick.” Noir turned his head to add in.

You looked over at Ham. “And what’s your excuse?”

“...In my defense, we have cans with a string between them. Reception’s a hit or miss these days.” You shouldn’t be surprised at his answer, but it still doesn’t stop the double facepalm you gave yourself. Peering back to the phone, you noticed that there’s a blinking light indicating someone left a voice message. As you walked over to play it, part of you prayed it wasn’t the school asking for your unexcused whereabouts.

“You have, one, new message.” Don’t be school, don’t be school... “Hi, sweetie! It’s your aunt!” Oh, thank god. “I hope you’re doing okay on your own, but I need your help with something. I...accidentally forgot to send out a file on my work computer, and I need it for an important meeting tomorrow. Would you be a dear and head over to my office? There should be like multiple post-it notes with the file name as a reminder for me to send it.” Mary laughed as her own forgetfulness. “Your visitor pass should still be working, so use that to get in. I’m sure the guards will enjoy seeing your lovely face again. Try not to stumble onto Alchemax’s floor this time. Call back soon, love you~”

“End of message. To delete the message…”

You look back over at the trio sheepishly. “Oh, yea...forgot my aunt works in a pharmaceutical building that neighbors an Alchemax branch...Hahaaa, that’s soo weird…Now what?”

You could hear Venom sighing inside your head. Funny how things seem to go together right when you need it.

[katelides]

For Good CH 11

Beca lets go of Chloe extremely slowly making sure they don’t lose eye contact. Chloe’s heart is hammering into her chest at a speed that cannot be healthy. She’s almost certain that Beca can hear it but is ignoring it. The redhead notices that Beca is trying to say something but no words are coming out. A few minutes later Beca manages to make a coherent sentence. “This is the best birthday I’ve had in a very long time, thank you.” Beca lets out a breathy chuckle. “Sorry, that sounded lame.”

“No it didn’t, I’m glad you liked it.” Beca now does let go and shakes her head frantically looking around the room once more. “Like it? I love it Chlo…” Looking through some of the notes she wrote years ago a stray tears finds its way down her cheek. “I uhm I can’t believe you kept all this stuff.” Letting out a soft laugh when she finally looks back at Chloe. “Especially the jacket, I forgot how good it looked on you.” Chloe’s cheeks turn bright red matching her hair.

The redhead looks down at her feet not really knowing how to react to what Beca just said. The brunette cups Chloe’s chin with her thumb and index finger making her look up again. Neither is sure how to proceed from this point. Only one of them has to lean forward slightly and their lips would meet for a kiss but both know that before that can happen they would need to talk about… them. The two clear their throat at the same time, bursting into laughter.

“As much as I want to kiss you right now we should… talk?” Chloe nods and points to the couch behind her. Taking the redhead’s hand Beca leads them to the couch so they can sit down. Not letting go of Chloe’s hands Beca turns to face her. “I kissed you, before you start panicking I do not regret it and as you know I want to do it again.” Chloe nods but not saying anything just yet. “But I need us to be on the same page. We need to start building up our trust again. So I want us to start over again, like you know… Do you want to go out on a ‘second’ first date?”

Suddenly Beca is really nervous. Performing in front of thousands of people she’s fine – asking Chloe out on a date and her hands are clammy and her entire body is tense. “I would love that.” Chloe’s genuine smile and light squeeze into Beca’s hand make the brunette relax slightly. “That’s great… I know that look, you have a question, right?” Chloe chuckles. “I actually have a list.” Beca rolls her eyes playfully. “Okay, I’m all ears.” Taking a deep breath Chloe finds the courage to ask her questions.

“Alright, why did you choose today out of all days to introduce me to Laura Hayes? What was up with all that miss Mitchell stuff at the club and talking about the club, how long have you been DJ-ing there? Do you know the owner or something? Please don’t hate me for this one but I asked miss Hayes if you still have nightmares, I didn’t mean to pry but I had to know. And are you sure you want me to keep living here?”

Beca gapes at the rambling redhead before her holding up her hands in hope that she slows down right when she finishes her last sentence. “Wow.”The brunette breathes out. “Okay, I’m going to answer the easy questions first… You meeting Laura was way overdue and I know that if you knew you were going to meet her you’d be freaking out.” Taking a moment to think about the second question she wants to answer Beca looks down at her hands. “I’m not mad at you for asking her about my nightmares, if you feel more comfortable talking to her I can give her the okay and you can ask her all the questions you want about me. The reason I went to her in the first place was so I could maybe one day find the courage and talk to you about it but no luck so far.”

Beca chuckles while Chloe just stares at her. “Oookay moving on… uhm I am the owner of the club, I always wanted to that. I finished my business degree and a little over a year ago I bought the space and turned it into the club you saw tonight. No one knows I own the place, people only know I DJ every Thursday and Friday.” Chloe’s eyes shoot up at the revelation. “Are you for real? OMG that so amazing Becs, I’m so proud of you!” The redhead jumps into Beca’s arms making them both tumble of the couch.

Beca tucks a strand of hair from Chloe’s eyes behind her ear looking up at the beautiful girl on top of her. “And as for you living here… I don’t want to spend another moment apart from you. Please don’t go?” Chloe leans in and ghosts her lips over Beca’s. “I’m not going anywhere.” This was everything Beca needed to hear in that moment, lifting her head she captures Chloe’s lips. The kiss is sweet and simple. There is no need to hurry.

-,-,-,-,-

Beca managed to convince Chloe to move to the couch. “I’m going to grab a blanket, be back soon.” She softly whispers, kissing the redhead on her forehead. Chloe mumbles something but Beca doesn’t quiet catch it. She returns a few minutes later and finds Chloe asleep with a smile. Not having the heart to wake her up Beca covers the redhead with a blanket and checks the time. It’s a little before 3 AM and she doesn’t feel tired yet so she quietly makes her way to her home studio. Maybe some inspiration might hit her.

It’s close to 8 AM when Chloe wakes up with a jolt. For a moment she panics because she doesn’t remember where she is. But once she gets used to the light and looks around she realizes that she’s on Beca’s couch. She doesn’t remember falling asleep there, she does remember the little make out session they had one the floor. The floor! Chloe turns around and looks down but no sign of Beca could be found. Maybe she went to bed? She thinks, stretching and getting up to make some coffee.

In the kitchen Chloe notices that a new pot was made recently, which means that Beca either got up not so long ago or… “She never went to bed.” With a sigh she goes on search of the brunette making a first stop at her room. No Beca. Next stop was the shower, she listens intently hoping to hear the water running but yet again. No Beca. Chloe hears faint music coming from down the hall so she follows it. The closer she gets the clearer the words become.

… Please say you'll be waiting

Together again It would feel so good to be In your arms Where all my journeys end If you can make a promise If it's one that you can keep I vow to come for you If you wait for me

And say you'll hold A place for me In your heart

A place for me in your heart A place for me in your heart A place for me in your heart

Chloe gently pushes the door open to reveal Beca in the clothes she was wearing the night before, behind the piano singing a song she did not recognize. “Morning.” Chloe almost drops her mug, not having expected that Beca would notice her. “Uhm morning?” Beca gets up and walks over to the redhead. “Did I wake you?” Beca lets out a relieved breath when Chloe shakes her head. “Beautiful song.” Beca chuckles and waves Chloe over to the piano. “It’s something new, I finished it about an hour ago.”

Beca takes the mug out of Chloe’s hands and places it on top of the piano. “Do you want to sing with me?” With a grin Chloe nods and sits down next to the brunette. She listens to the tune Beca is playing and quickly realizes what she’s playing. So without any hesitation Chloe starts singing.

Chloe Oh, her eyes, her eyes, make the stars look like they're not shining Her hair, her hair, falls perfectly without her trying She's so beautiful, and I tell her every day

Beca (I was thinking bout her, thin-kin bout me) I know, I know (Thin-kin bout us, what we gon' be) Chloe when I compliment her she won't believe me Beca (Open my eyes yeah, it was only Just A Dream) it's so, it's so, sad to think that she don't see what I see Chloe But every time she asks me do I look ok, Beca (It's only just a dream) Chloe I say

When I see your face Beca (So I travelled back, down that road Will she come back, no one knows) Chloe There's Not a thing that I would change Beca (I realize yeah, it was only Just A Dream) Chloe Because girl you're amazing, just the way you are Beca (it was only Just A Dream) Chloe When I see your face Beca (So I travelled back, down that road Will she come back, no one knows) Chloe It's Not a thing that I would change Beca (I realize yeah, it was only Just A Dream) Chloe Cause girl you're amazing, just the way you are Beca (it was only Just A Dream)

Chloe When I see your face

“I missed this.” Beca’s voice is the one that breaks the comfortable silence. “Me too.” Chloe averts her gaze to the keys of the piano. “Do you want to go get some breakfast?” Beca bumps her shoulder into Chloe’s to make her look at her. “I’m starving.” Chloe lets out a laugh. “You’re always starving Mitchell.” The DJ shrugs. “So that’s a yes?” Chloe nods. “Great, let me take a shower first.” Chloe chuckles at the over enthusiastic antics that are Beca Mitchell. “Let’s meet in the living room in an hour, that gives me time to take a shower too.” Beca wants to comment on it but quickly decides against it, it’s not the time… yet.

-,-,-,-,-

Beca is waiting for Chloe to come down. Her stomach is heavily protesting the lack of food. She throws a ball for Ella to bring back to her to kill time. “Sorry, sorry, sorry I’m ready.” Chloe runs in while trying to get her jacket on. “Relax Chlo.” Beca gets up from the floor and grabs Ella’s leash. “We don’t have a schedule today.” Ella is circling the girls yapping excitedly. “Alright baby girl, we’re going.” The brunette attaches the leash to the collar and opens the door for Chloe.

“So, where are we going?” Chloe asks linking her arm with Beca’s out of habit. “Well, I was thinking of going to my favorite breakfast place not far from here and after I’d show you around the city? I mean you haven’t really been sightseeing yet so I thought maybe you’d like that?”

“I would love that… ooooh can we go for a walk in the park too?” Beca playfully rolls her eyes. “Whatever you want.” Chloe squeals and makes a little jump. “We’re here – The Rolling Scones – I come here every day.” Chloe watches the Beca’s eyes light up while talking about the different things they have. “So, do you want to go in?”

“Yes, I can’t wait to see what this place has in store.” Beca opens the door and lets Chloe in, following quickly with Ella. “Beca you’re back! Should I get you your usual?” The brunette shakes her head. “Not yet mister Cimorelli, thank you. How’s your wife?” Chloe watches the interaction between the two with a smile.

Find the full fanfic on AO3 or ff.net

[limpblotter]

JOHSNAVI

Who said “I love you” first (Johan)

Johan looks over at Usnavi doing one of those mundane house chores while the taller man lounges around. He takes it all in, how hard working his boyfriend was even when it was something as pointless as putting away the groceries. Slowly, Johan rose from his spot on the couch and walked over to the kitchen. He picked up one of the bags of groceries and started putting away alongside Usnavi.

“Well, well el vago mio is helping me?” Usnavi rolled his eyes, delicately putting things into the fridge. They didn’t speak, it was …strangely normal. As if they hadn’t just started living together, like they were a seasoned couple coexisting perfectly. Like…they weren’t kids playing house. This was real. Usnavi blushed, he felt silly for finding something is simple so heartwarming. He was just about done putting away when Johan kissed the top of his head.

“I love you.” He said nonchalantly. He watched as Usnavi froze in his place and chuckled a bit. “Sorry, too soon? It felt right. All of this and–” No more, Usnavi spun around and kissed him. They were definitely not kids playing house anymore.

Who would have the other’s picture as their phone background (Both but different pics)

“Yo, primo, my phone died mind if I get it?” Sonny asked but was already reaching for the phone that sat, faced down on the top of the store counter. Usnavi was up on his ladder cleaning out the shelves when he heard Sonny. Immediately was about to deny him, when he saw his cousin turn his phone over and poke at the home screen button. “ESPARA!” He wailed, forgoing his work and started stumbling down the steps. It was too late, by the time he got to Sonny they were both staring down at his lock screen photo. Johan, topless and slightly glistening with sweat as he sat crossed legged in his tight yoga pants. His eyes were closed and hair was up as if he was mediating. Shamelessly, Usnavi walked in on one of Johan’s yoga sessions and couldn’t help himself.

“It’s cool, I keep pics of Pete on my phone” Sonny smirked a bit as his cousin ripped the phone out of his hand. “But none of those pics are appropriate for a background~” That earned him a slap at the back of his head. Meanwhile: Johan standing in line while someone approached him with a dinner and invite. “Sorry, I’m happily taken.” He took out his phone and opened to his home screen, being a selfie of him and Usnavi, Johan kissing Usnavi’s cheek as he smiled. “Isn’t he the cutest?”

Who leaves notes written in fog on the bathroom mirror (Usnavi for important reasons)

Johan often leaves cute doodles on the fog of the mirror after his nearly two hour showers. He was surprised, one day after another especially long shower Usnavi had opened the door. “Babe?” He called out but heard the door shut immediately after. He figured Usnavi was heading out to man the store so the silence didn’t bother him. When Usnavi was in the zone, he was in the zone. Once he was done he was surprised to find there were words left on the mirror. And it read;

Amor, as much as I love and adore you, you don’t fucking pay for the water bill ok? You think the water is cheap, hijo de tu madre!! Take shorter showers JOHAN! …

Johan smiled a bit, a blush gracing his cheeks. “God I love that man.” He chuckled, taking his large hand and wiping over the message.

Who buys the other cheesy gifts (Usnavi 100%)

“So…” Usnavi walked in with a bag. Johan arched an eyebrow, it was not a plastic grocery bag or a paper bag from the store.

Johan slowly got to his feet. “Did you…” he gasped, “go shopping?” Suddenly his shock turned to a small pout. “Without me?! Navi how could you.” Shopping was one of Johan’s favorite things, though he was not a fan of the capitalist and consumerism of this counter. He did admire looking good, and if the said thing happened to be a hipster recycled, thrifted, worn, over expensive piece that he would only wear once…he wanted it. “Ugh don’t tell me you went to the 99cent store…those things get all of their shit from sweatshops in China.”

Usnavi fidgeted a little, he looked down at the dollar store bag and suddenly felt stupid. “Ah…fuck…” He pulled out a small snowglobe with a small Eiffel Tower inside. “…I know you miss France from time to time and I saw this and …sorry it’s stupid, I’ll return it.” He quickly shoved it back in the bag when Johan’s large hands ripped the bag from him. He tossed the plastic bag aside and held the snow globe in his hands. “You got this for me?” He smiled a bit, shaking the globe so the sparkly white flecks were now raining down on the plastic tower. “Usnavi I love it.” “Good, I won’t tell the sweatshop children that you love it too…” He frowned, noting to himself to stop purchasing his things from the dollar store.

Who initiated the first kiss (Johan)

Usnavi looked too good. His eyes fixated on the movie they were watching, their arms brushed up against each other. “This is the best part.” He whispered, not looking at Johan. He was so focused on the screen he didn’t notice, Johan wasn’t watching at all. Johan was watching Usnavi, his face completely focused on the scene playing out. While Johan couldn’t even remember what they were watching. Johan shifted his body a little, taking in how the light bounced off Usnavi’s face so wonderfully. How Usnavi watched intensely, his lips slightly parted.

“Hey…” Johan poked him a little, Usnavi turned his head and was met with a kiss. He inhaled sharply, letting the initial wave of shock wash over him. Immediately after, warmed soaked in through his lips and traveled down his body. He pushed back on those soft lips, melted into the kiss. Slowly Johan pulled away, eyes dilated with fear of what Usnavi would think. What he’d say…Usnavi slowly touched his lips, they trembled, his eyes glossed over as he met Johan’s stare. “You missed the best part…” he mumbled, shifting closer to Johan. “You should have waited until the end…”

Who kisses the other awake in the morning (Usnavi)

“Fuck.” Not again, Usnavi felt the weight of his man on his body, arms clinging to his head, a leg around his waist. “Jesus!” He was up at the crack of dawn. His body a trained clock that someone could set their watches to. He shifted his weight and rolled to his side the best he could. He was face to face with Johan and that stupid eyemask. He sighed, another day he was set back a few minutes because someone hugged Usnavi like his life depended on it…Not that he complained. It was routine, Johan was now a part of it he was working with. Learning to make a routine around. Usnavi leaned in and placed a kiss on his boyfriend’s sleepy lips. “Good morning.” “M…mmm…” Johan smiled a bit, usually a deep sleeper he was learning to wake up early thanks to Usnavi. Not that he liked it. “Nope, still asleep, need a few more of those.”

Who starts tickle fights (Johan starts but…Usnavi finishes them)

“You are so tense…” Johan had his body friend on his stomach, though no sex was happening. His large hands were working through years of tension built up along his lover’s body. “You need to learn to relax, babe.” “Que relax? I’m relaxed!” He hissed, “I’m so relaxed right now.” “Yes because relaxed people hiss.” He smirked, “you need to laugh more, you have so much pent up stress, let loose.”Johan ran his fingers down Usnavi’s sides, he tickled and proded at Usnavi but not sounds came from him. “…” “I’m not ticklish.” Usnavi smirked, he sounded almost smug. He quickly rolled from under Johan’s hands now that he was taken back and pounced at his boyfriend. He ran his hands up Johan’s sides up to his pits and the tall man fell like Goliath and Usnavi was David. “But I see you are~” he smirked watching Johan’s frame crumple and his mouth wide, letting out wild peals of laughter.   

Who asks who if they can join the other in the shower (Johan but he doesn’t really ask)

“Babe I’m home from yoga, I need to take a shower.” Johan walked into the bathroom, finding Usnavi was already under the water. “Too bad, I’m in.” He answered immediately. “And I’m not going to wait around for you to spend forever, our water bills are through the roof, Jo.”

Johan rolled his eyes, always about the bills this one, he thought to himself. “I have to shower, or else the bad energy will seep back into my pores.” Usnavi ignored Johan and began to whistle as he lathered himself up. He felt a cold wind against his body, he opened his eyes and found Johan, completely naked had pulled back the curtain. “What are you doing!?” Usnavi gulped, red in the face and back against the cold, wet bathroom tile.“Saving water for our water bills~”

Who surprises the other in the middle of the day at work with lunch (Both)

“That was a great session ladies.” Johan smiled, he watched as his yoga class began to wrap up and he had another class starting in a few hours. One of the yoga students walked up to him and began to chat him up. She playfully slapped his arm and began to twirl her hair, clearly on the flirtatious front but Johan was blissfully unaware. His mind was more focused on food, his next session, going home to his Dominican lover. The door to his yoga class swung open and Usnavi stormed in. “Babe!”Johan smiled when suddenly a bag was shoved to his chest. “You got me lunch, how swe–” He felt the straps of his tank top get yanked down.

Usnavi planted a hard kiss on Johan’s lips and huffed. “Surprise, lunch date, lets GO.” He grunted, watching the woman slowly back off. ___Rush hour was killing Usnavi. He rang up at least fifty people, working through his lunch hour so Sonny could yap on the phone. His phone had gone off several times but he had no time to answer it. Instead he learned to ignore the buzzing for now, focused on his work. He thought he had served just enough everyone when the store door chimed. He turned to greet who came in and smiled softly when he noticed it was Johan. “What are you doing here?”

“I thought I’d ask you out to lunch but you didn’t pick up.” He pulled up a Whole Foods bag and placed it on the counter.

“Sorry I was busy…” he watched as Johan took out two salads, always thinking of keeping Usnavi healthy. Some fresh green looking juices and an electric, twist on candle. “How romantic.” “Healthy and environmentally friendly, bon appetite~”

Who was nervous and shy on the first date (Usnavi)

“Navi’ you look fine.” Nina chuckled watching Usnavi pace the floor. It was his first real date with Johan. They were going to their first real date and it was a fancy dinner at a Tapas place. Johan had planned it all out and all Usnavi had to do was show up. Yup, show up, easy. No. “Usnavi you’ve already changed four times, you look fine.” She watched as Usnavi stopped in front of the mirror, he unbuttoned then rebuttoned the top button of his shirt. He fixed his collar three times and sighed. “Too casual…I should go with a tie, right? A tie…” He spun around feeling so…plain. A white button up and nice pants? Knowing Johan he was going to show up fashionable, dazzling…breathtaking. He started to break out in a sweat just thinking about how much of a drab disappointment he’d be. “Nina…call Johan, T-Tell him I’m sick.” “Oh I will” Nina smirked, “Love sick. Usnavi chill.”

Who kills/takes out the spiders (Usnavi sorta)

“AHHHHHHHHH!” Johan screamed at the top of his lungs from the bedroom.

“QUE PASO?” Usnavi emerged with a baseball bat. He found his boyfriend in a small ball at the corner of his bed. “Babe? Baby…Jo what happened?” Usnavi was more than ready to kick ass and take no names. He watched as Johan pointed to a small, eight legged critter in the corner. “…are you fucking serious?” He dropped the bat and suppressed the urge to whack his beloved with it. “Johan…you’re parents were hippies, you were adopted into a tree cult when you were five, you use to camp like homeless people. You CANNOT be afraid of spiders.” He laughed a bit more exasperatedly than humorous.

Johan didn’t find it funny. “I got bit by a spider, and you know what my parents did when I got an allergic reaction? I spent five hours in a river with leeches stuck to my arm. I am not, getting bit by another spider AGAIN” He felt those old flashbacks hit him like wartime. Usnavi honestly had no answer for him. He went over picking up a flipflop to end the creature when his boyfriend let out another heart wrenching screech. “CONO what now!?” “…don’t…kill it just…take it out…please.” Johan muttered softly, his poor little expression. Usnavi sighed, putting down the flipflop he used his hand and cupped the spider, bravely, setting it out on the fire escape. “Thank you…” he smiled. Usnavi slowly turned around and held up his now reddening hand. “Hey..uh…you think leechs will work or vics?” He blinked at his spider bite, while Johan screeched for a third time, reaching for the phone.

Who loudly proclaims their love when they’re drunk (USNAVI DE LE FUCKIN’ VEGA)

Johan and Usnavi didn’t get out much. When they did they tried to make it an experience. Johan being new to New York City still and Usnavi, though a native, didn’t get out much. Something that came with their same sex relationship was the discovery of gay bars. Though Usnavi often said he didn’t really identify with gay. He was working through banishing gay man tropes he had grown up around, and the fact he was at one point very attracted to Vanessa. Usnavi was bisexual, and Johan-sexual if that was a thing. Gay bars were more Johan’s style, he shared a lot of similar interests, he knew how to work a crowd.

“So, did you come here alone?” A friendly stranger smiled at Johan who was temporarily alone at the bar. Johan had been working on his Bloody Mary after Usnavi downed shots like water. Eventually his boyfriend had to flee to pee and left Johan alone. “Someone as handsome as yourself can’t be single.”

He wasn’t, before he could answer from across the room emerging from the bathroom Usnavi wailed at the top of his lungs. “I LOVE YOU, JOHAN JOOOOOHNSON.” He swayed and stumbled over to Johan. “Mi amor, mi vida, mi carino, te amo, mi Jojojojooo~” He threw his arms over Johan and climbed on top of his lap. The friendly stranger took a few steps back as the small drunken man nestled himself on top of Johan. “No. I’m taken.” Johan smiled, drinking his drink with one hand and patting Usnavi’s back with the other.

[powertobehandsome]

Blind Date || Matt and Seth

In which Shiv and I decided to do a random little thing so I can try to better grasp the voice of Seth. And it goes from ridiculous to hilarious to heartbreaking in a matter of seconds. -- @violent-nobility

"Fuck," Carol groaned as she slowly sat up, holding a hand against her head. "Fuck, fuck, fuck... shit. You guys okay?"

"Other than being in the closet," Matt responded, his voice dry as ever. "I am, but Oliver's still out." He was sitting against the wall, the Arrow's head and shoulders in his lap, and he held onto him protectively.

"Closet?" Carol blinked, but as her vision cleared, she saw that he meant it literally. They were in some kind of cleaning supply closet -- explained the smell. She pushed herself up and brushed bits of grit and soot off of her supersuit, then slowly got to her feet. "What the hell happened?"

"Deadpool." Matt's voice was tight, angry, and quiet. "He saw the opportunity to steal something from Thanos, I don't know what it was, but he took it and.. when he did, something -- we just fell. Gravity felt like it -- turned off." He licked his lips and gave a small shake of his head. "But I'm guessing he's here, somewhere. We just have to find him."

"Okay." Carol nodded and reached down to lift Oliver up. As she did, he woke, although groggily. Blood streamed down the side of his head, dripping from the side of his mask. "Ollie?"

"Fine," he murmured, then nodded. "I'm fine."

"Okay... so... we just need to find Deadpool, steal back the gem, it'll be fine. How hard can it be to find a guy in a conspicuous red suit?" Carol helped Matt up, then went and opened the door -- into one of the loudest, most crowded places she'd seen in a long time...

Where at least ten Deadpools were cavorting together.

"Sweet costumes!" a Stormtrooper said as they passed by. Carol looked own at her own costume -- blue, red, gold. Blood. Soot. Oliver's dark green leather was badly scuffed, and he was covered in all sorts of wounds. Matt just looked like an insane ninja in his black blindfold and skintight black shirt -- god she loved that shirt on him though -- and cargo pants. He wasn't bleeding, but from the way he had his arm held against his chest, she was guessing he'd hurt it.

Right. Okay.

"This... is an actual nightmare I've had," Ollie muttered as the Deadpools started cartwheeling together, to shrieks and applause from the huge audience of con-goers.

"It'll be fine. We just need to find the right one."

Seth had a booth set up in the center of the great hall, directly catty-corner to both the marvel and the DC sets. He had the prime location, and it had cost a pretty penny. But his mother believed in him, believed in his new comic, and this gave Seth every opportunity to geek out as cosplayer after cosplayer stopped by, picked up a copy of ATOMIC COUNTY and let him take a picture along with their payment.

He'd used his phone to get a few pictures of the cartwheeling Deadpools, and just happened to look over to his right as a collection of the most obscure collection of cosplayers all but limped out of a janitorial closet between two of the concession stands. "Ryan... Ryan look at this. Do you think this is an orgy gone wrong? You see, I always knew Comic Con would be different if I stayed stationary, if I was in the mix of it and able to just watch people come and go. Speak of which, I think these... You know, this is something I haven't really seen since that first week you were in Newport. Do you remember that? The party that we went to after the fashion show. There was the fight on the beach. And I accidentally walked in on an orgy in the bathroom."

"Seth... Your point?"

"My point is, Ryan, that those three... there's something twisted going on there. They all walk out of a closet, dressed in costume, the guys are the ones who look more roughed up. Do you think..."

"Do I think they maybe just had a make out session? And she kicked their asses because they were leaving her out?"

Seth stood and gawked at his best friend, brows raised. "I was going to say do you think that is some of that corn syrup fake blood? Or the stuff that tastes like throw up. Because if I'm going to spread my wings, that means introducing myself to new people."

"You're not going to try to make out with one of them."

"One of them? No, Ryan, all three. This is Comic Con. Go big or go home. What happens in San Diego, stays in San Diego."

"That's Vegas."

"Or Tijuana."

"Seth..."

"Right. Shhh. They're coming this way. Who's winning right now, me or my hair."

"It's your hair, Seth. It's always your hair."

"Do you think they'll-- Hi. Hi guys. Can I interest you in one of my comics. Atomic County. Based off of real life experiences, I've discovered it makes the characters more real, makes them feel less far fetched when it comes to their powers, and the likes. What are you... the Arrow. Are you a Captain Marvel? Very nice. I like the whole layout you've got going with the colors. And who... I mean. I've seen weirder ninjas, I guess. Or are you one of the like... Image comic characters? But welcome. Is the Arrow alright? Is he drunk, or is he just a method actor with that head injury?"

By the time the kid was done talking at them, Oliver was staring at him like he was going to put an arrow through one of his eyes. The three of them had all stopped, surprised at being accosted, but when the kid was done yapping, Oliver just clenched his jaw a little and turned away. Everything hurt and he was lightheaded, but he'd had worse, and there really wasn't time to go get patched up, let alone time to listen to this kid.

"No," was all he said, his voice sharp, and he turned back to Carol. "Ca-- ptain Marvel, we have to go. I don't think any of those are him." Ollie nodded towards the Deadpools, who were now hugging people and signing autographs. "Daredevil?"

Matt, who was thoroughly miserable in the shrieking crowd, lifted his chin and told himself to focus, listening to the group of Deadpools. After a moment, he shook his head. "No. None of them. He's not here. We have to keep moving." He rotated his shoulders as much as he could while still holding his arm against himself.

Carol nodded and turned back to the kid. "Did you see another Deadpool leave this area recently? It's important that we find him now. So please. If you saw him, help us."

Seth watched them, nodding, looking back to Ryan and then lifting his brow as if this was his in, as if this was what he'd planned to happen all along. Because in San Diego? At Comic Con? This was his place, his people.

"Deadpools? Yes. I saw two. Though in this place it might be..."

"Seth..." This time, Ryan was actually helping. "Why don't you show them the way. They don't... seem to exactly know the best places to look. And you are the one who saw them. I'll watch the booth."

"Right. This was fellas... and lady..." Seth walked around the booth, gesturing for Ryan to not forget pictures, and then gestured for them to start heading down toward Hall C. He looked at the man in mostly black.

"So, you're Daredevil. Is it the tie around the eyes that's supposed to be the giveaway. I'm not at all trying to judge costume, that event happens tomorrow night, and I'm not a part of the panel, but are you just going for his early days? Not many people do that these days. I've gotta give you some mad props."

He started to lead them down a left hallway and at this point, he wasn't entirely sure where he was leading them, but he knew he had seen a Deadpool walk in this general direction. Though, it had been a few minutes, and by this point, he could be anywhere.

"So, I have to ask. Everybody else went marvel. Why did you go DC? Is it that you like the darker undertones of the universe? Or is there some other factor?"

"Me?" Oliver asked. This wasn't the first parallel world he had experienced, but even still, he hated this shit, and it came across in his voice. "I don't care about -- DC or Marvel." Whatever that is. "We're here to do a job." Instinctively, he reached out and pulled Matt closer, keeping Matt's injured side next to him.

"Marvel -- named after Captain Marvel?" Matt asked. This was all new for him, all very new, and he didn't like it at all. He didn't get entangled in the bigger stuff, he didn't jump from world to world, he didn't play around with people who had powers. Jesus. This was insane. This was completely, completely insane. "And who are you?"

"I'm Seth Cohen. I was running that booth because I created this comic called Atomic County based on the life I lead with my friend Ryan while we were in high school in Southern California. But I'm sorry. That's irrelevant. What do you mean you don't care about Marvel or DC? They're the two major food groups, they're the super powers of the comic world. They are who every writer and artist want to be involved with..."

Seth pointed to a man dressed in a full Deadpool costume -- a better one than Seth could remember seeing. "There are three there. That one... Hey, guys. That one doesn't have his blades tagged." Looking around, all others in cosplay had orange or green or bright blue bands around their blades, their guns, even their bows. "... Neither do any of you... Are you... Are you going to create some kind of mass killing? Oh god, i've gotten mixed up in the worse kind of crowd. I'm worse than Marissa with Volchuck. And that got her killed. Look. If any of you are going to go rogue, please let it be the Green Arrow. Marvel doesn't need any of the bad rap right now."

The group stopped. Oliver looked at Matt, who was focused entirely on the sound of that Deadpool's heartbeat. Matt looked like shit, Ollie thought, pale and sweating more than he usually did, but he still trusted the man's senses -- and when he saw the slight tightening of Matt's lips, he knew.

"Done," Ollie said to Seth. In an instant, he had nocked and aimed an arrow. "Sebastian Moran!" he snapped -- and only one Deadpool turned, the one with the untagged weapons. In the same instant, Oliver fired. The arrow slammed into Wade's thigh, the force of it enough to take him down -- and he was pinned to the floor. It wouldn't last long, though, and they all knew it. Ignoring the screams, Oliver fit another arrow, but Carol had already moved. She straddled Wade, pinning his arms to his sides.

"Heeeyyy, Carol! Is that you? Gosh, I didn't recognize you in this, um, marvelous place!"

"Give us the stone," she growled.

"How about I give you my fist in your face?" he asked, and jerked an arm free, but Oliver stepped on his wrist and held it down before he could do anything. "I don't have it anymore! Ow, Jesus, what the hell, man?"

In the background, someone whispered, "Oh my god, it's a live performance!" and the shrieks mostly began quieting.

Matt leaned against the wall, out of the picture.

"Where is it." Oliver pressed down harder, absolutely furious. "You stole it. You brought us here. What did you do with it?"

"I gave it to some shiny gold guy." Wade shrugged as best he could. "Adam something. Real crazy eyes. Actually, he looked a lot like Captain Space Lesbian's boy-toy slash mentor. Sort of like maybe Jim Starlin couldn't get over his Mar-Vell crush and just haaaaad to keep drawing him. Except spraypainted gold. I mean, wow, talk about jaundice."

"Who the hell is he talking about?" Oliver looked at Carol.

"I don't--" but she didn't get the chance to finish. Somehow, Wade managed to throw both of them off. He kicked her square in the chest, punched Oliver, flipped away, and was gone.

The room applauded.

The room applauded, but Seth had been pushed back against a wall when the Arrow had pulled his weapon, his untagged weapon. And "Sebastian Moran? Like the Sherlock Holmes character? What in the hell does he have to do with Comic Con? I mean, there's a Sherlock panel tomorrow, but there is no canon adaptation of Moran on that show..." But talking, now, seemed ill advised. He watched the performance slipping behind a few of the spectators.

Looking at the Daredevil who was hiding along the edge of the wall, Seth carefully moved to the doorway through which they'd entered. "Warlock?" If there's a Warlock that's involved in this... cosplay or whatever, Seth knew they needed to get out of here. He had to get Ryan.

Warlock? The concern in the word was enough to attack Matt's attention. He turned towards the young man who'd been helping them -- Seth -- but the kid was already too far away. Pressing his arm a little more firmly against his body, Matt touched the fingertips of his left hand to the wall and started moving along it, trying to follow the kid. Oliver and Carol had already taken off after Wade, and he had to believe they'd catch him -- but if this kid knew who Deadpool had given the infinity stone to, they couldn't afford to waste that information.. or so he'd been led to believe. He still wasn't entirely sure just what the hell it was.

"Wait... wait... Seth! Please." Matt froze when someone whipped around and almost whacked him in the face with their foam sword, but it missed him by a quarter of an inch. He swore silently, ducked under it, then left the wall and moved after the kid as quickly as he could. "Seth?"

"Listen, Daredevil? Or whoever you are," Seth turned on a heel, hand lifted to his mouth, held just in front of it as he tried to come up with the right way to tell him that he couldn't get involved. "I don't know why you wanted me to get involved with this? I don't... I just want to get my friend out of here. Because while everybody else thinks that was a show, your friend in green actually smelled like blood, and you haven't stopped clutching your side until... well, until now. And I don't believe that was an act. I'm not saying I believe the characters of my favorite graphic novels are real, though how cool would that be. But if you are real? And if you're really getting Warlock involved. I just want to go home before all hell breaks loose."

Matt felt like the world was twisting out from under him for the second time that day, listening to this madness. The kid seemed to not only know who they were -- that had been disturbing from the first time he started speaking to the others -- but he thought they were fictional. Maybe Oliver and Carol knew how to handle that, but Matt didn't. This was never what he had signed up for, but it was too late now.

He pulled off his hood and shoved it in his pocket. Although he hated to do this, hated to let people see the way his eyes wandered and sometimes seemed to shiver, he knew that eye contact meant something to the sighted, even when they knew he couldn't see back.

"My name's Matt. Not Daredevil. Seth, look, please. I don't know -- what's going on. I'm not a superhero. I'm a vigilante in Hell's Kitchen. And this -- this is way above my pay grade. But what I do know is that we need help -- information. And maybe it was fate or chance or God, but something put you in our path, and maybe there was a reason for that. Thanos has all of these -- these infinity stone things, I don't -- I don't know what they are. But he wants to destroy the universe, and Carol seems to think he can, if he gets the last one.

"Which Deadpool took. This Warlock guy.. if you know something, please help us. Please. You don't have to get involved, you can turn and run and never look back, but please just -- tell me what you know."

"What I know? What I know is your name is Matt Murdock. Your father's name was Jonathan "Battling Jack" Murdock. He raised you alone, claiming that your mother had died. He wanted you to be more successful than you, like any parent would. He urged you to constantly study instead of playing sports or actively making friends. He hoped that you would become a doctor or a lawyer, which, for the record, is what you did with your best friend, Foggy Nelson. He always referred to himself as an 'uneducated pug' and didn't want you to be like him. But because he wouldn't let you make friends, you got bullied, trained in his gym... Do I need to go on?"

Matt's jaw dropped and he went paler than he had been. He took a step back and held his hand up as if he needed to ward Seth away. The words had come flying out of nowhere, powerful jabs, and he felt sicker than he had a minute ago.

"No," he said, voice suddenly a little hoarse. "No. You..." He wanted to leave. Christ, he wanted to leave, to get the hell out of here and away from this kid -- but Oliver and Carol might not catch Deadpool, and if they were right, bigger shit rested on this. His personal comfort couldn't matter. "Seth. Please. Who is Adam Warlock.. and how do I find him?"

"Oh god... where to start. For the longest time he was just referred to as Him. He...is known for enlisting the aid of the Avengers, and your Captain Marvel in order to stop Thanos. During this battle, his younger self shows up and takes the soul of the older one... He ended up in this Soul World gem? Anyway. After Thanos was resurrected, he collected all the gems and formed the gauntlet. When certain beings tried to resist him, he captured them and threw them into the soul gem with Warlock. Naturally, they all met, and they tried to convince Warlock that Thanos needed to be defeated again.

"But here's the catch. Warlock gets the gauntlet, and then becomes this new near supreme being of the universe. And Adam Warlock? He doesn't care about life. He wants a perfect existence. He wants the gauntlet for himself. So if he has the gems? If Deadpool gave him the last one? Well, in the comics, the Living Tribunal told him that he couldn't be trusted with it and made him divvy up the gems. When Warlock had the gauntlet, he ridded himself of good and evil. He just became this.... being of pure logic. Man, I don't know how to not overwhelm you with his history. I can already see that what I knew about you was too much. But from what I've read of Warlock? Him having the gauntlet is as bad or worse than Thanos..."

Seth shrugged, looking around, trying to let some of his anxiety wither away. "He's too logical. He's always right. But you can never trust him to do the right thing."

Matt shook his head. This was too much. This was too damn much. Still, too much or not, there was no choice but to deal with it. So, after a moment, he nodded. It was a small gesture, but for Matt, it was more than just the acknowledgement of the information; it was an agreement. He'd asked, he'd heard, and now he had to act. It felt,  to Matt, like he had just agreed to die -- but he reminded himself that was what he'd chosen. Time and again, he'd chosen death for himself if it meant life for someone else, and this was no different, terrifying a prospect as it was.

"Okay," he said, soft and calm now. "Thank you, Seth. You should... probably go. Get your friend. Hide. Wait it out. I'll try and -- if we can, we'll keep the fight out of the city. Away from -- people."

He should listen, of course he should. Seth wasn't the Ironist. Ryan wasn't the Fists of Fury. Regardless of what his own comics claimed.

"But you're in no condition to face Warlock. Hell, you're in no condition to face Deadpool. Just... Be safe, yeah? I'm a fan of what you do. And Elektra was never right for you."

Matt visibly flinched at the name and he took a step back, nodding. "Yeah. Yeah. Right. Okay. Um. Thank you. Be safe. As safe as you can. Just, uh -- be safe." He hesitated, feeling like this wasn't over somehow, but it had to be. The longer he talked to the kid, the longer it would be before the kid could run off and find somewhere safe.

"Good luck with your comic. I hope that your -- your characters never have to really suffer. Go hide." Matt turned and slipped away, back the way he had come -- exactly the way he had come, following the memory out rather than try to find his way anew, too lost in thought, too distracted by the foundations of his world being nothing more than ash and dust.

Seth watched him leave, pursing his lips, feeling like he should get involved.

He shouldn't get involved.

Ryan would get involved.

He'll understand.

Without calling out to the other man, Seth silently followed him through the crowd.

How much trouble could he get into, anyway?

Matt stopped when he got to the place that he had first touched the wall. Oliver and Carol were still gone -- probably for the best, he knew, but how the hell was he supposed to get any kind of message to them? They needed to know about Warlock, they needed to know how bad this really was --

But he might need to go to a hospital. Arm throbbing, his abdomen aching in a deeper, worse way than the broken bone, Matt leaned against the wall for a moment. The room was absolute din, but there was one softer place in the wall of sound -- a muted place. An open door. Not a door to the outside -- no fresh air -- but it went in the right direction, he thought. He would have to cross the room to get to it, which he wasn't looking forward to doing, not in the shape he was in. Just finding Deadpool had felt like it took whatever remaining strength he had, and now, all he wanted was to find somewhere cool and quiet to curl up and stay.

But that wasn't an option. The kid had given him valuable information, and since they couldn't go back to him to get more -- they couldn't risk putting a target on his back -- he had to stay alive to use that information.

Matt put his mask back on, awkwardly with just one hand. He couldn't go into the crowd with his eyes exposed. People would see. They could get in, but he couldn't stop them, not if his eyes were uncovered. The weight of the hood was subtle but familiar, and he gave a small sigh of relief. He'd get out there, find a way out of the building, find Oliver and Carol and...

It would be fine.

Matt headed into the crowd. It took longer to cross than he had hoped - unless it just felt like it took an age - and then finally he was in an almost quiet hallway. He followed the hints of fresh air until he found an exterior door, pushed it open, and then stepped out into the wonderful warmth of a beautiful day.

Queasy, he tried not to stumble or limp, tried to look as normal as possible as he headed towards the sidewalk but he didn't make it far. Finding a planter, he stopped and leaned against it, hunching over. "No," Matt growled to himself. "Don't do this."

People were starting to stare, and some of the security guards had heard about the show, the one that had not been on the itinerary. Seth had slipped through the people, almost reaching out more than once as Matt had moved along.

Outside, when Matt leaned against the planter, Seth reached to take him by the elbow and take him into a corner created by an inward jut of the wall. "I was never a lifeguard, or anything. But I did take a first aid class once. Where are you hurting?" His fingers moved carefully over ribs, counting, feeling for cracks. "I can drive you to a hospital. I'll call Ryan and have him look for your friends, if you want."

Matt had tensed at the unfamiliar touch, but he relaxed just as quickly. He wasn't too proud to accept help when he needed it -- at least once he admitted to himself that he needed it. Still, he couldn't monopolize this kid's time.. and the kid was supposed to be hiding.

"Aren't you supposed to be.. not here?" he asked, reaching out to put his good hand on Seth's shoulder, steadying himself. "It's in my side," Matt answered and cleared his throat. "Lower, lo-- mm. There." He took as deep a breath as he could and when he let it out, he could hear it shaking. The place he'd stopped Seth's hand wasn't on the last rib, but a few inches below it, where Matt's muscles had bunched up hard as rocks. "I fell on it during the fight. That and my arm -- but that's just a broken bone. This is... Not." He swallowed against the pain. "You shouldn't be getting involved," he said, forcing the words out as calmly as he could, hand clenching just a little too tightly around the kid's shoulder.

Shit.

Matt let go. "Sorry."

That would bruise, likely, but Seth had grit his teeth as his shoulder was clutched.

He held the spot, where Matt was hurting, and Seth tried not to get overly excited that he was essentially in the middle of a comic. He thought about all the people who would walk away from this, and that he, too, should likely be one of those people. But Ryan would be ashamed of him. Sure he'd never directly say it. But Seth needed to get involved. Always. That's what made life exciting, wasn't it? That's what made the difference between being the nerd everybody ignored, and the hero of your own comics.

"That's likely true; there are many times where I look back on my history and I think that I shouldn't have gotten involved, or that Ryan shouldn't get involved but those never make the good stories." Who knew, maybe Seth could sell a pitch for a cross over some day. Or maybe, if nothing else, he could draw it up for himself.

"Now, will you let me take you to the hospital? Or are you going to be one of the stubborn super hero types and insist that you're completely fine. Because, and this is just a personal opinion, but I think your rib is maybe not supposed to be doing that."

"It's not my rib," Matt said quietly. "It's..." Internal bleeding. It's bad. "...soft tissue damage. It's deep. I should be okay, but.. The ribs hurt, but this is... I.." He couldn't get the kid involved -- but he needed help. Matt hesitated a moment longer, then nodded. "Please. Take me to the hospital."

And please forgive me. I'm so sorry.

"It would be convenient, now, if I were Ryan. Because I'd just pick you up and carry you to the car." He laughed awkwardly, took Matt by the hand, and then offered as much strength as he could.

"You said you should be okay, but considering you can barely walk and..." he stopped to give Matt time to breathe, lifting the edge of his shirt just enough to the black bruise that was already spreading across his abdomen. "Yeah. That's kinda what I figured. Let's go."

Seth didn't know San Diego. He plugged in his phone and typed in the hospital, looking for the closest one. Then went around to open the back door. "Lay across the seat. I think that's what's going to be better for you, rather than sitting up the whole way."

With Matt situated, Seth sent a quick text to Ryan and then took off. "Hey... So, I know this is maybe asking a bit too much of the universe, but I kind of need you to not die."

"Okay," Matt agreed, with a soft laugh. It was a strange sound -- cynical and happy at once, an honest promise and a bitter admission of what reality really was. "I won't die in the back of your car. That'd be a pretty crappy way to repay someone for trying to save me, after all.."

Still, now that he was laying down, it was hard to want to stay awake. There was no way that any of this could be real. The entire day was insane -- the premise of the day was insane. It was a bad dream. All of this. There was no Californian supernerd convention where people spoke like prophets. There was no Adam Warlock, no Thanos, no infinity gauntlet. There was no kind, strange young person named Seth who seemed torn between the hyperactivity of youth and the blossoming calm and kindness of an adult. None of this was happening. Matt wasn't dying in the backseat of a car because he couldn't be dying in the backseat of a car -- it was just all too nuts.

-

Several hours passed before anyone came back out to the waiting room. The person who did was a young, suntanned doctor with dyed red hair and green contacts. She looked around and when a nurse pointed Seth out to her, she walked over him to.

"You're the one who bought the John Doe in? Guy with the broken arm, the injury on his side?"

Seth stood, thinking about how much this woman reminded him of Julie Cooper, but that was no reason to not trust her, certainly.

Or so he told himself.

"I am. Is he... I mean, will he be okay?"

"Would you like to come back and see him? He asked to se-- to talk to you. If you're still here. I can tell him you left, you know -- you don't need to get involved in... whatever this is."

"Do I look that innocent? You know, when I was in high school..." But he couldn't even finish the thought. Seth stood and nodded. "Yes, of course I want to go back to see him. Thanks for your concern, or whatever. But yeah. Please. Take me back there."

The doctor gestured for him to walk in front of her, her unnaturally colored eyes gleaming under the fluorescent lights.

"He should live," she said as they walked back through a maze of corridors. "There was some internal bleeding, but you got him here quick enough. Everything's closed up and cleaned up; your friend just needs to mend. But tell me." Her voice sounded just a shade too innocent, too casual, as she asked, "How did you two meet?"

His brow pinched together and he glanced at the woman, rolling his shoulders. He didn't understand the impulse to lie, but at least he wasn't Ryan. That kid sucked at lying.

"He's been working in the booth next to me through all of Comic Con. Some idiot kids came in and started... I don't know. It was like a riot? Man. Comic nerds can get carried away. But he's a nice guy. His name is Matt. But that's all I know about him."

"He must be a stunt guy or something." She smiled and took him into an elevator. When the doors shut, she stared at Seth before reaching over and hitting the button for the next floor up. "Lots of scars. What's your name?"

"Seth Cohen," he replied, suddenly feeling quite untalkative. "Wait. Wasn't he blind?" It was better to treat him like a normal guy. "I mean. Not that he can't be a stunt guy and blind. California is the place of dreams, right?"

"You ever hear of a blind stunt guy? I guess weirder things have happened. How old are you, Seth?"

"I'm 26. Im sorry, but why is this important?"

"Oh, I'm just curious." She smiled at him again, like he needed to be reassured, then led him down one more hall and into Matt's room.

Matt looked terrible. He looked worse. Significantly worse. There were fresh bruises all over his face and his knuckles. His broken arm hadn't been set and looked like it was swelling badly, and as if the bones weren't quite straight. He was hooked to a few IVs, his eyebrow and lip were split, and he was restrained -- both wrists, ankles, and a strap around his waist, his chest, and his neck.

The doctor put her hand on Seth's shoulder. "You really should tell me the truth," she purred. "He's a very, very dangerous person. Security had a tough time with him... And you don't want to get involved in something like this. Trust me. Now tell me the truth."

Seth squirmed from under the touched and moved closer to Matt, a hand over his mouth, trying to understand what had happened.

"What? I told you the truth. His name is Matt. He worked in the booth next to me. What did you do to him? I'm calling the police."

"Don't worry... We've already called the appropriate authorities." She shut the door and it locked automatically. Smiling, the doctor leaned against it and took a syringe out of her pocket. "Have a seat, Seth.”

"No. What? No. What are you?" He pulled his phone out to call Ryan. Because somehow he would help. "No. I'm reporting you all. What have you done to him?" Seth moved to the far side of the bed, reaching to touch him gently. "I'm sorry, man. I thought I was helping you."

Matt's lips twitched, and then the fingers of his good hand twitched, but he didn't wake.

"You're not going to get a signal in here. All you need to do is sit down and relax. It'll all be over soon.." Her smile widened. "Hail Hydra."

"Hail... What?" Seth's eyes went wide. There's no way this was real. The group, sure. But this...

"What do you want from me?"

"I told you, darling. All I want is the truth about this man. But if you won't give it to me..." She smiled, the very picture of beauty and malicious insincerity. "You won't be any use to me, will you?"

Seth's chin lifted, and the frown on his face showed how close he was to being sick. "Well, since you have trouble believing this face, which I must say is really strange, because I've always been honest, and I'm not sure what you're expecting to get from me? I was born in Newport. I went to high school at harbor. My parents adopted my brother when we were both 16. He dated the girl next door on and off for a few years. Then she died in a car accident. He was there with her when she did. He and I thought about becoming a thing. But with us spending so much time as brothers. We just couldn't get past it. So I don't know why you think I'm lying about this guy I don't know..."

"Oh, you poor, poor dear." There wasn't an ounce of sympathy in her, and she took the cap off the needle, then rested her thumb on the plunger. "Is a stranger really worth your life? He's a bad man, Seth Cohen... with the adopted brother, the tragic backstory, and a family that will surely miss you when you're gone... A vulnerable family, no doubt." She was enjoying this, and her voice went a bit sultry. "Such a darling young man you are.."

"I don't think he's the danger, lady. I think you are." He reached for whatever he could get his hands on -- a rod to hold up bags of medication -- and held it over Matt's body. "I also don't think you're pretty, so you can knock it off with the fake charm."

"Okay." She smiled and lunged at Seth, seeking to grab the rod with one hand so she could inject the obstinate little shit with the other. Stupid brat!

Seth swung as much as he could. He wasn't a fighter. Never had been. But he could swing the rod, and with the strength of a nerd, struck her over the head with it. He jabbed and ended up entirely wound in tubes and the likes, but by the time he was done, she'd nicked his arm with the needle, but he'd managed to make her unconscious. Running to unlock the door, and then take the brakes off the bed, Seth did his best to get them out of that damn hospital.

By the time he was pushing the bed out of the door, Matt started to come to. Sort of. He tried to sit up and winced when he couldn't. For a moment, he looked both truly frightened and truly angry, but then he recognized the smell that was with him, recognized the heartbeat he'd had so much time to listen to in the car.

"Seth. What's.. happening?"

"Apparently hydra knew you were here. Though why they were interested in you, I don't know. Doesn't much matter. We're getting out of here."

"What's hydra?" Matt tried to move again, but bit back a cry of pain when he tugged on his broken arm. "F... can you let me out? I'll move.. faster.. with you... Walking." A plus communication skills there, Murdock.

"The avengers? Steve Rogers and Bucky Barnes? Never mind. They're evil." He pulled more tubes free and then stopped the bed, offering a hand, stopping to seemingly catch his balance, eyes closing for a moment. "Weird. Okay. Man. Let's get you out of here. I thought I was helping, but I've only hurnmk..." Seth cleared his throat. "Hurt you more."

Hydra. Right. Hydra. Matt's head felt like he was still halfway asleep, barely able to function, but he did his best to focus. When the restraints around his body were unclipped and the heavy, padded straps taken away, Matt carefully sat up -- but he froze when the kid's throat seemed to tighten.  He tried to focus on listening to his heart and his blood, but he couldn't, he couldn't.

Fuck.

"You.. didn't hurt me. What's wrong? Who... hurt you? We've got to, um.." Matt got to his feet, nearly fell, but caught himself with his good arm against the wall. "Go. Are you okay?"

Over exaggerating his nod, Seth tried to wave off the concern, tried to catch Matt when he almost fell, but had to grip the bed rail as that almost pulled him to the ground.

"I'm. 'M fine. I should have helped you. I came to help you. I dnnn rememner the walls being red..."

Fuck. Something was really wrong with the kid. (Kid. When Matt finds out he's only two years older than Seth, he'll feel like an idiot).

He forced his body to obey him as he moved to support Seth. "Time to go." If Hydra owned this hospital, they couldn't stay, but where the hell could they go?

Whatever. They'd figure it out on the go. Matt wrapped his broken arm around Seth and started moving down the hall. "You don't. Dont sound so good."

Seth shook his head, trying to clear it. "Right. We gotta get you out."

He wrapped an arm around Matt in return, trying to help him walk, trying to figure out why this color red made him want to puke. Why red, tho. It was such a stressful color. Reminded him of combat and...

"Matt? It's been hourssss. Where are your frnnns?"

Matt shook his head. He didn't know where they were. He was in agony, but Seth needed help and that meant -- what, another hospital? The kid could die on the way, and Matt would exhaust himself even more than he already was. He'd never be able to fight off... hospitals never had red walls, did they?

Strange. Matt took him back down to the ER. "Help. My friend's sick. Something... is wrong. Help him."

The nurse gave Matt a confused look. She remembered his black clothes, but hadnt he been admitted? So why was he still in them? Still, she focused on the other man.

"Can you tell me what's going on?" She asked, and it sounded like she actually gave a damn.

"My frnnn has a broken arm. Bleeding. Lady upseerrrmsss. In room. Tried to kill him. N me. Caught me with drrttyyy needeemlll." Seth looked at the woman, his stomach rolled.

"Why red walls? Help him."

From there, things happened quickly. Seth was admitted. Matt was admitted. The police were called and security was stepped up.

Hours passed. When Matt woke, he sensed at once that he was safe. He wasn't in a hospital, which surprised him, but he was safe. His body ached all over and moving at all sounded like the worst idea he'd ever had, so he just lay still and listened.

Seth was next to him in the hotel bed, asleep, clean, stable enough.

Oliver and Carol were in the other room, talking grimly about Hydra having followed them here. Oliver sounded tired but better, and Carol sounded just like she had since Matt met her: intimidating, calm, and strong.

They hadn't caught Deadpool.

Oliver's blood pressure was low.

Matt blinked a few times, his useless eyes feeling dry and tired, and then he closed them. Thank God, he thought. Thank God they'd all gotten out alive. Although it hurt to do, he carefully slid his unbroken arm over and slid his hand around the kid's

You saved me, kid, Matt thought. I promise to do whatever it takes to protect you.

He stayed quiet and still after that. He wanted to get up and get something to drink, he wanted to pee, he wanted to go put his hand on Oliver's shoulder and tell him to get rest, but he couldn't quite convince himself to move yet. He'd wait until Seth woke, he told himself; then, Matt wouldn't have to feel guilty for waking the kid up.

Seth didn't remember a lot of what happened after they'd had to sedate him, ironic as that seemed. He'd fought, when they'd taken Matt away. Argued, yelled, threatened to throw punches he really didn't know how to throw. He'd slurred his way through trying to explain that Matt hadn't looked like that when he'd brought him here, but how much of his ravings they could actually understand through his dosage of cobra venom was undetermined.

Next there was sleep, peace, and no more red walls.

Seth woke with a tiny jerk, but his hand rested under Matt's. Knowing what he did of the Daredevil comics, he knew there would be no sense in pretending to sleep. His breathing and heart rate were bound to change.

Looking around the room, he smiled lightly, then pulled his hand free, moving to sit up at the edge of the bed. "You look better. I'm glad. I would hate to have to tell people that I caused Matt Murdock to fall into the hands of Hydra, just because I insisted on a hospital in San Diego." He laughed awkwardly, shrugging. "Ryan would be jealous -- all the adventure I had today. And the fight with the woman. I'll have to ham that story up a bit, I suppose. Just so it's especially difficult for him to believe..."

"I'd be dead if you hadn't insisted. You saved my life twice today. Thank you." Matt put his good hand on his side, feeling the site of what seemed to have been a surgery of some sort. Thick bandages covered the area that had hurt the worst, and he could feel new wound edges in it.

"You.." Matt had to clear his overly dry throat. "You deserve much more than to have almost died yourself. I'm sorry. You... I'm sorry."

There was a soft sound at the door and then Oliver opened it. He looked like an almost normal human being now, in jeans and a t-shirt, barefoot and bruised and bandaged.

"You were injected with cobra venom," Oliver explained, not sure how much the kid remembered. "How are you doing? Do you need anything?"

Though he'd been on the verge of making some kind of sarcastic comment in reply to Matt's gratitude, because Seth truly didn't know how to accept it without putting on a faux show of arrogance, his thoughts were cut off when the Arrow made his appearance as Oliver Queen.

"Yeah, man. My own cape and eye mask. Is that something that like, comes with the first super deed, or am I going to have to learn to sew? I could probably manage it, I can certainly design it, but what fabric have you found that works best with the sweating and the stretching and all that."

He smirked. "Also, can we talk super chicks? Because I can't lie, a girl that could kick my ass for the good of man kind is worth getting to know, at least over breakfast."

Looking back at Matt, Seth's expression sobered a little. "Any more whispers about Warlock?"

"Warlock?" Oliver asked. He came in, shut the door, and sat down on the edge of the bed by Matt, needing to know that he was alright.

Matt took a moment to explain everything Seth had told him. Although his voice shook a little from sheer exhaustion, he spoke with a quiet conviction, as if he truly believed that everything Seth had told him had relevance. Oliver watched Seth as Matt spoke. When Matt was done, Ollie nodded and started petting his hair, but his eyes were still on Seth. He was willing to accept the man was a necessary addition, but he wasn't as trusting or accepting as Matt was, as a general rule.

Still, the fabric thing was an easy enough topic. "Most of my gear is leather," Oliver answered, "some wool."

"I wear... I think the brand is called UnderArmour?" Matt said. "For the shirt. Then just.. regular cargo pants. Cotton." This was the weirdest conversation.

Oliver pulled the blanket down to look at Matt's bandages and make sure they were still in place, then he tucked him back in and looked at Seth again. "Going to take up a life of suffering and scars?"

Fighting crime would be awesome. But Seth was in no way qualified. This was what he did when around figures who intimidated. He talked about himself, without letting the conversation actually delve too deep into him.

"That was the whole point to me making the graphic. Story of a boy, living in Newport, looking to fight the white collar criminals with Cosmo Girl and Little Miss Vixen. So clearly I have a 10 year head start. Started those stories when I was 16... and I've read enough of your stories to know all the tactical information any kid could need."

Growing quiet, Seth again shrugged off concern. "I'm gonna use the bathroom."

"He's twenty-six?" Matt asked in surprise once Seth left the room.

"...how old did you think he was?"

"Maybe... nineteen?"

Oliver smiled and shook his head, then leaned down and kissed Matt softly on the lips, his heart aching with all of the love they'd agreed not to feel anymore -- an agreement both were failing at, more often than not. "Are you okay?"

"I won't be fighting anytime soon, will I?" Matt licked his lips. He could still taste Ollie's kiss, but he could also taste Oliver's blood on the air, even tucked away under bandages as it was. "I should have been protecting him, Ollie. He fought someone for me. He didn't have to... I wish..."

They both knew what he wished, and both knew how futile the words were to say aloud. After a moment of quiet, Oliver carefully helped Matt get up. Mostly supporting him, he helped him out to use the bathroom once Seth was done.

As for Carol, she was on the bed out there, also in jeans and a t-shirt, drinking a glass of water and watching the news with the sound off and captions on. When Seth came out from the bathroom, she nodded to him.

"Thank you for saving Matt."

Seth stepped back into the room just as, it appeared, a moment seemed to dissolve between Oliver and Matt.

"Interesting crossover," he muttered to himself. "The fan fiction writers would lose their minds if they happened upon this."

His ramblings were cut off by Carol's voice. Seth would never say it out loud, but he didn't know much about her story. The original Captain Marvel, sure, but other fandoms had originated Seth had lost track of that particular story line.

"Honestly, it's not in my nature to be modest. Quite the opposite, actually, I'm known to be self-absorbed and fairly insufferable. So believe me when I say I did nothing but deliver him into the hands of Hydra. He more saved himself in trying to save me. I, admittedly, don't have the hair to be a damsel in distress, it's true, but I think we worked well together."

"Matt doesn't have hero hair, so you're a good match," Oliver pointed out, giving a tired grin as he helped Matt lay down on the bed Carol was on. "Okay. So. Breakdown. Carol, have you ever seen those things we were fighting, before the breach opened?"

Carol glared at Oliver and shook her head. She was too tired for this team recap shit, but decided to suck it up and be grateful that Oliver was willing to take the leadership role here. She might be the group dad, but Ollie was definitely mom (much as Matt might have wanted the role).

"Okay. Matt?"

"Have I seen them?" Matt asked.

Oliver flipped him off and sat down on one of the room's few chairs. He looked over at Seth, so the kid would know he was invited to stay, then looked at Matt, who was wearily giving him the bird right back. "You know what I mean."

"Yeah. But no. I haven't. They smelled similar to some of the Chitauri forces that attacked New York, but obviously these were much smaller. Well. Mostly smaller."

"You seemed pretty confident about fighting them."

Matt shook his head. "Holding back was never really my style. Besides. We had to try..."

Silence fell, then Oliver sighed and rubbed at his forehead. A few minutes later, the conversation resumed, Ollie keeping the other two focused on recalling what had worked and what hadn't -- and all of them avoided talking about Deadpool for now. Eventually, he looked back at Seth again. "Hydra isn't *usually* a real life problem here, is it?"

"Hydra? Considering it's just a facet of Nazi Germany, my quick answer would be no, they dissipated after they lost the war. There aren't really beings like any of you in this world. No super charged runners or billionaires who fight crime at night. Nor are there, technically, super villains. Though. To counter myself, if you consider the current president elect of the United States, something can be said for a resurgence of Adolf Hitler and the Nazi elites."

He shrugged, having been looking down at his hands while they had all regrouped, listening, making mental notes for when he woke from this bizarro dream.

"So what are your plans? Technically, in this city, this week, you won't look so out of place while dressed for fighting crime. But the police are also on high alert because people tend to let their imaginations get the better of them. And, as you realized with your friend, you can't trust the costumes people wear."

"Wade is never exactly... subtle," Carol said, trying to at least be somewhat kind with the word choice. "We're going to split up. Ollie will look for him, I'll handle this Warlock guy if I can find him."

"And I'll--"

"Rest," Oliver interrupted Matt. "You were picked up and smashed down against a car by a giant tentacle monster -- thing. Just stay put."

Matt muttered something unflattering but accepted it. He knew he was in over his head here, especially with the injuries.

"Which brings us to you, Seth." Oliver met the kid's eyes again. "You found out the hard way that life is safer when you're not with us. I suggest, strongly suggest, you get away from us and never look back -- but if you want to stay involved, we won't stop you. We just can't promise your safety."

"You think life is easy? Dealing with privileged and over funded people like... well, everyone in Newport," including himself, but who really needed to know that? "Anyway. Life is full of these little decisions, Oliver. Can I call you Oliver? Or do you prefer Arrow? Anyway. I learned in high school when I met Ryan that safety is overrated and sometimes life is worth risking.

"Besides, when I wake up from this awesome dream, and go to jot down ideas for my next issue, how bummed am I going to be if I just said 'you're right, I'll sit this one out.'"

Oliver couldn't stop himself from smiling, although even his smile had a hard edge to it, something dangerous in the eyes.

"Okay. You're sticking with us. You'll either come with me or guard Matt. Carol's hard to keep up with. And if you're going to stick around, call me Ollie."

"Look, I'm adventurous, but I'm not delusional. Well, not about this, anyway. But I don't have any abilities to offer you out there. If it's cool, I'll stick around and help make sure your friend has to move from his healing place as little as necessary."

Seth looked back and offered a crooked smile to Matt, then shrugged. "At least until you find a way to drug me or knock me out to make your escape."

"I'm not going to drug you or escape," Matt answered, a little indignant.

Oliver scratched Matt behind the ear.

Matt growled. "Seth, please tell him I'm not a cat."

"Yeah. You are." Ollie started scratching under Matt's chin, then pet his insane hair for a minute before straightening up. "Okay. I'm going after Wade." He tossed a wallet to Carol, who set it down on the table next to Matt.

"You two... aren't sleeping?" Matt asked, feeling guilty and useless. He started to get up, but when his face went white he swore and relaxed again.

"We did. A little. Earlier." Oliver started for the door, then looked at Seth. "You sure you can handle him? He gets grouchy."

With a short spurt of laughter, Seth waved Ollie's concern away. "Believe me. There's nothing quite as grouchy as the kid from Chino who's denied his bagel and coffee on a morning when his girlfriend is claiming she's boycotting the next fundraiser..."

Seth looked at all three, noticing the vacancy in regards to his reference, and then again waved Ollie toward the door. "What I'm saying is we'll be fine. I've dealt with worse."

Oliver considered this, smirked a little, and nodded. Considering how fussy he and Tommy had been when they were younger, he believed that Seth could handle it.

"Be nice to him, Matt. He's only nineteen."

"Bite me," Matt muttered.

Oliver and Carol left.

"Nine..." Seth's brows furrowed and he looked back at Matt. "I know I've got the ever handsome face of a young man, but I'm closer to 30 than 20..."

Shrugging, Seth moved to turn on the coffee pot. Because this was exactly what he needed while cooped up in a hotel with the daredevil: Caffeine.

"I know you've somehow spun a story where people think I'm a hero, but I want to apologize for handing you over to Hydra."

"I realized that later. About your age I mean. When you said... Ollie was just making fun of me, since I assumed you were a kid. I.. really don't know what you look like, but I.. sometimes underestimate ages.. uh.. by a lot. And.." he pushed himself somewhat more upright, although it wasn't as if he could watch Seth. Matt just hoped that his eyes were behaving; he kept his lids about half closed to be sure.

"You got me to the hospital to begin with. I needed it. Hydra aside, you got me where I needed to be. Surgery, setting and splinting my arm... I might not have made it if you hadn't gotten me there to begin with. I might've just... found some alley to curl up in and hide." And by might, Matt meant probably. "You didn't know they were there. Your intentions were good. That's what really matters."

The coffee smelled sharp and unpleasant, too old and too strong to ever be drinkable, but Matt suspected that to Seth, it probably smelled just fine. Enticing, even. He waited til the kid -- til the not kid was settled, then started talking again.

"So... you think you should call Ryan maybe? Let him know you're okay?"

"Ryan? I called him when I took you to the hospital. I think he figures that was probably somehow code for me hooking up with one of you, and so he doesn't really expect me to come home any time soon."

The coffee did, in fact, smell a little off, a little too old, too stale, to Seth too. But what he drank at home was ground fresh almost daily. It never lasted long enough to go stale. Still, it was something to do with his hands, something to drink.

With a styrofoam cup, he moved back to the bed where Matt was, considering finding somewhere else to sit but decided it didn't matter. "Do you want to sleep? Or I can see if there's some kind of movie on to listen to as background noise? Not that the entire hotel isn't likely background noise for you. I just don't know what to do with absolute silence?"

Matt shook his head. "Do whatever makes you comfortable. I'll probably drift in and out... but.. I'd really like to know more about you, if you don't mind talking for a while...?"

"I feel like this is a trick question. Talking about myself for hours on end is what I do best."

He laughed once, then winced. No more laughing.

"Well... maybe at least tell me how 'going to the hospital' could be code for a hookup?"

There was something oddly comforting about not having to guard his expressions or the looks of concern or disapproval.

"Well, when you're a teen, there are few stories you won't make up in order to get away from your parents for an hour or two. And Ryan? Well, he knows claiming to have to take someone to the hospital isn't out of my wheelhouse. Besides, I didn't tell him the truth about who you all are. He wouldn't believe me anyway. I just gave him a warning to be on the lookout for a Warlock looking guy -- then had to explain to him what that meant -- and told him I'd meet up with him later."

Matt had to bite his lip to keep from laughing again, not wanting the pain, but his smile made it abundantly clear that he was amused.

"You sound like you were trouble as a kid. Maybe still are."

"Actually, I was a loser as a kid. I didn't have friends to get me into trouble until Ryan came along."

His tone was pretty matter of fact, and lacked any real self pity.

"I get by without too much trouble, I think."

"No kid's a loser," Matt objected, quietly and a little sadly. "Friends or not... at least, that's one old man's opinion." Because at twenty-eight, he was clearly much, much older than Seth.

"No, it's alright, being self-absorbed has allotted me plenty of time to become self-aware as well." Seth didn't comment on the age thing, figuring if Murdock was in his early to mid thirties, and if he had, for some reason, thought Seth sounded like a 19-year-old, then there was likely a reasoning behind it.

"He is the only real friend I've ever had. Which, to be fair, we almost ruined more than once by dating, and he's technically my brother? By adoption. I apparently have no separation of church and state..."

This time Matt laughed, then groaned and swore and forced himself to lay flat again. "Fuck. Fucking. Fuck." Moving was intensely painful, but once he was completely flat again he started trying to relax once more.

"Sorry." Stop swearing, Matthew, he told himself.

"For what? I grew up in Orange County with a bunch of water polo playing morons who had no sense of a higher vocabulary." He shrugged. "Besides, there is a scientific study that claims that the use of expletives like 'fuck' is actually helpful when dealing with large amounts of pain."

Matt's eyebrows went up and he opened his mouth, about to say something, but realized that if he did, he'd just start laughing again, which would require more swearing, which would probably make him laugh more, which would probably kill him.

He cleared his throat and made himself focus instead. "Were your parents comfortable with the relationship? It sounds like something that might have been... difficult for many to swallow?"

"My dad was fine with it. My mom... we hid it from her for a while. But there are a limited number of reasons why she might have walked in on us naked in bed together, and on that day, I could think of none of them."

"That.... definitely seems like a difficult one to explain." Matt moved his broken arm around, trying to find a more comfortable position for it, then finally just rested it up alongside his head.

"How are you feeling, by the way? Are you really okay..?"

"I don't remember anything after hitting the woman with the IV rod. Not at all sure how we made it out of that room or what happened next. I just assume you're the hero. Makes for a more believable story anyway."

Seth settled down onto his side, one hand tucked under the pillow. "But I wasn't injured. So you've nothing to worry about."

"You don't consider cobra venom an injury?" Matt asked, speaking a little more quietly now. "And I didn't wake up until you had me in the hall. You wheeled me out in the bed.. I was strapped down.. you were already feeling the venom I think, and you got me free of the restraints and helped me up before you started to go down.. you were in and out of consciousness, we got back down to the ER... you were.. really out of it -- hallucinating red walls.. but you still tried to make them help me first. You fought to keep us from being separated, you didn't even seem afraid of what was happening to you.

"You were pretty brave, Seth. No matter how much you want to downplay it."

A crooked smile slanted across Seth's lips at the last comment. The rest of it? Felt like Matt was talking about someone else. "What nerdy -kid- doesn't want to find a way to save a super hero's life?"

"Well since I'm not a superhero, you'll have to wait til Ollie or Carol gets in trouble," he said, half in earnest and half teasing.

Seth pulled out his phone from his pocket, typing away for a breath of a moment, and then smirking.

"Daredevil is a fictional superhero appearing in American comic books published by Marvel Comics. Daredevil was created by writer-editor Stan Lee and artist Bill Everett, with an unspecified amount of input from Jack Kirby. The character first appeared in Daredevil #1 in April 1964."

He looked over up at Matt, his own brows raised. "The Marvel universe agrees with me, Matt. Deal with it."

"1964 though? I'm only twenty-eight. So I've got a few more years of being a confused, aggressive vigilante before anyone starts making action figures. I hope."

The last two words sounded lighthearted, like all he hoped for was more time before star status, but the truth was that he hoped he had a few more years at all.

"What got you so into comics?"

"Told you. I was a bit of a lo-- loner as a kid. So people like you and Ollie and Barry Allen. You were my friends. Besides, I was pretty sheltered. There is little that is ever dark in Newport. So living vicariously through you all. That's how I spent my nights. That's how I got adventure."

The words made Matt feel strange. He knew that it wasn't real, that the comics really had nothing to do with him, no matter closely aligned the details seemed to be. None of it was real. He wasn't the one who kept a lonely kid company and helped inspire his creativity. *He* didn't inspire people. All he did was frighten them. Still. The notion of ever being able to really help someone's happiness, not just to protect their body, it gave him a sad yearning.

"Maybe I can live up to your Daredevil some day," he murmured.

"Honestly, you've surpassed it. But then, I never expected to receive friendly words from, or to be saved by you. But this fourth wall breaking is more Wade Wilson's style and we don't have to talk about it if you don't want to."

Seth let his eyes drift close, but he wasn't close to sleeping. "What about you? I'd like to hear things I don't know. Like the whole crossover that I happened upon."

"The... what?" Matt was lost.

"You and Oliver Queen? Or even, you and Carol and Oliver. He's..." Seth let out a sigh, trying to make this simple. "You and Carol are from one of the major comic distributors. One of the major universes. Oliver is from another. Are you telling me there's a world where you all just run around Willy nilly?"

Matt had to process this for a few minutes before he could really understand what he was being asked.

"We... live in the same world, yes. We met when he was arrested in New York. He saved a group of children from a shooting situation, but one of the other gunmen claimed Oliver had been working with them from the beginning. Well. The... only surviving gunman. Oliver killed the rest of them that day. He was struggling to come back... and was assaulted in the prison. I got him released, with a tracker, and... he just needed so badly to have someone understand him and let him set boundaries, let him... be broken. Without treating him like he was. I don't know if that's... what you were looking to hear..?"

It was more than he'd asked for, or so he thought. But Seth didn't mind the over share. It a strange way, it made sense that they... well, maybe they weren't together? Maybe they were. It didn't really matter. All that Seth really wanted to know was that one of them hadn't gone looking for Earth Two or something, and therefore found the other. But together, whatever universe they were from, it was the same one.

"Okay, but locker room talk? Because I've never gotten to do it before. Which of your... kind? I don't know what to call you. Advanced humans, heroes, vigilantes, whatever. Which of you is the biggest tool. Because I always figured it would be Stark."

Matt's expression probably said it all: at Stark's name, his smiles vanished entirely.

"Probably," he agreed. "I've never met him, though. Just met his teammates after he tears them up. I'm sure he... is a hero. It's just hard to admire someone who doesn't respect the people that risk their lives along with him."

"Sorry. I didn't mean to hit a nerve. Did you... want to know anything else? Would you like me to let you sleep?"

"No, it's fine. I'm sorry. I've just... Steve and Carol are good people. And Tony.. l. He's the toxic friend that just.. robs them of happiness every time. We can talk about other things though, if you want. I get... protective. Of them."

"It's good. I mean, it's good to be protective of friends. Sometimes that's all that keeps them alive." Seth rolled onto his back, staring up at the ceiling, blinking slowly.

"It's not 1992 where you are, is it? Like. Cell phones and watches you can send text messages from aren't foreign concepts to you, are they?"

Matt turned his face towards Seth. "Did someone..." but he stopped the question before it could finish leaving his lips.

"No, it's 2017. Smart phones are great. Clinton won the presidency."

"Oh, fuck you."

"What did I do???"

"Trump is the president here. What are the odds that I can talk you all into taking me back with you?

"Though, my father will want to come, because he's convinced the world is ending."

"He... but... how.... I mean.. yeah. Come with us and you run the risk of getting murdered by aliens with... apparently more frequency than you do here, but... how the hell did Trump win?"

"The Russians, man. They own this planet." Maybe that wasn't an appropriate joke for someone who doesn't actually know how this planet worked, but they'd work it out. "Anyway. What's a little alien danger compared to a man like that."

"True," he said, maybe a little too emphatically. "Or maybe this is Adam's plan -- give your world something other than itself to fear, to teach it tolerance."

"You call him Adam like he's nothing special." Seth laughed, stretching his arms above his head.

"Okay, serious question. Do you have spare time that you like... practice chess or whittle or whatever? Do super heroes have hobbies?"  

"Others, maybe.. I uh.. I work about sixty hours a week, a lot of it unpaid.. when we can pay our bills, and if I don't feel like I.. have to go out that night.. I work out. Train... or sleep. I don't really, uh, have much of a life.." a wry smile touched his lips. "So who's the loser here now?

"What about you though? When you're not doing art, what do you enjoy?"

"Um... skateboarding, I guess. Hanging out at the pier. Reading. Playing the play station. That kinda thing. I don't do much by way of physical activity, I guess. Mostly I write and draw."

He shrugged. "I asked you about hobbies. You said work and exercise. But are there things you enjoy? Infinity pools? Autumn? The sound of the city?"

Matt was quiet for a long time. If he was going to answer this, he was going to do it honestly, but he knew most people didn't really want honesty. They wanted easy answers. Still, Seth seemed to know more about Matt's own history than anyone else in his life did, other than maybe Elektra, and he was still here, willing to talk... maybe he wouldn't mind the truth.

"I like... the quiet. It's hard to find quiet places, but when I do... it's nice. I like touching smooth things, like glass or metal or a cat. Things that don't snag at all. I like the smell of rain on a hot summer afternoon. And I have this... fantasy, that one day I'll go to Arizona and hike out into the desert and just.. be there. Away from all the city noises, the roads, and it'll be... quiet. Hot. Clean -- cleaner than the city."

In an instant, realizing how much he really had said, Matt looked embarrassed. "I mean I like getting a drink with Foggy and Karen too, of course." Lame. Lame recovery, Murdock.

"Would it be weird if I asked to take you back to my place? It's late now, sure. But I think... I'm not hitting on you. I just want to show you something."

It would be just under a two hour drive back to Newport. And he couldn't offer the rain. But hopefully there would be something he could give.

The thought that Seth would have hit on him at all hadn't occurred to Matt, who assumed he was taken, and the assurance surprised him. Still, he nodded.

"Sure.. can you leave a note though? In case one of them comes back? My uh, handwriting is... pretty atrocious."

He wanted to ask what was there, and part of him just really wanted to stay here, but Seth had gone through so much for them already. The least he could do was humor this one request.

There was a notebook and pen in the nightstand, and Seth left a note. He then made a quick run to the restroom and then moved to the side of the bed to offer Matt his arm.

With quiet instructions about obstacles, Seth led Matt out of the hotel and back to the car that... who the hell had driven it here? One hit of the button told him it was, in fact, his car. "Would you like the backseat again? So you don't have to sit up the whole way?"

"No, if it's okay," Matt said, although there was pain in his voice, "I'd like to sit with you." He appreciated that Seth just understood how his senses worked, and that when Matt was like this -- hurting, worn thin -- his body all but shut down, taking him back to a more 'normal' human state. He needed the guidance. Hell, he needed his cane, and hated not having it.

In the car, Seth kept the music low, and flipped to a classical station. It was either that or some Spanish station. His Death Cab CD had finally bit the dust.

"Are you comfortable? The ride is going to take a while." He looked over at the man in the passenger seat.

"I'm Catholic," Matt said, smiling. "A little suffering is good for the soul."

"So a catholic and a Jew are in a car down a deserted highway." Seth smirked. "Man, that's not even the beginning of a good joke."

Before they were able to make it out of town, however, Seth reached over to touch Matt's arm. "Are you hungry?"

"....well I wasn't before, but now that you had to go and mention it, yes. Dick." He raised his hand and brushed his fingers against Seth's wrist for just a moment, worried that calling him a dick was too much.

But Seth laughed, pulling his hand free a beat after he felt the finger tips on his wrist. "And here I thought I was being nice." He pulled down a side road on the northern outskirts of San Diego, weighing their options.

"Preferences? You're not a vegetarian, are you?"

"No." Matt shook his head. "I'm not. I'm a vegan. Nothing but plants that willingly sacrifice themselves and are farmed without pain."

"Oh, now who's being a dick. Sucks for you that this In and Out clearly sacrifices their first born cows to you like the Jews to god. And that's your only option." He chuckled and pulled up to the drive thru. "What would you like?"

"Something spicy and chickeny if they have it.. and water. If they have it. This is still California, I know it's scarce here.."

Ordering accordingly was fairly easy, including the water, which came in the same, rectangular Fiji bottle that his house was always stocked with.

Then it was time to hit the 405 and head north toward home. The car turned quiet while they ate, and after that, Seth didn't much feel his typical need to fill the silence.

The drive felt easier than he'd expected it to, and as they pulled into his driveway, he could see the sun just beginning to rise at the horizon.

Matt had eaten very slowly, more to continue distracting himself from the pain than to satisfy the hunger. When they had both finished and things went quiet, he closed his eyes and focused on keeping his breathing even, controlled. He let his mind go quiet next, and eventually even managed to drift off, not to wake until the car stopped.

When it did, he lifted his head. "Are we there...?" Matt sounded half awake at best.

"We are," Seth replied, climbing out of the car and going around to help Matt out. He guided him up the steps, through the front door and then to the left through the kitchen and out the back doors. His gaze lingered on the pool house where Ryan once stayed, back when they lived here with his parents. But that was years ago now. His parents lived in Berkeley. And they'd left this place to Seth, should he want it.

It was too much house. But it was also home.

"How opposed are you to getting these clothes wet?"

Matt had to stop and lean against a wall. He was puzzled by the question, and he reached down again to check his surgery dressing. Water resistant, he thought, running his fingers over it before putting his shirt back down.

"Alright." He felt a little lightheaded and sick, but he'd had far worse. Matt straightened up, ignoring the shaking limbs. "What is it?"

"I'm sorry. We're almost there." This time, Seth took Matt by the hands. It was hot and damn near suffocating, even this early in the morning. Southern California was unforgiving, though, but that was why damn near every house had a pool.

There were floating chairs he would offer in a bit, but for now he led Matt into the water, and then gently nudged for him to relax back.

"You won't get lucky enough for rainfall, I think. But if you float, and you let the water... it's the heat of the desert, and the silence that being submersed in water can offer. It's clean. And there is no threat to your safety. Just relax back. I've got you."

He'd tensed at first upon being walked to the edge of the pool, but he hadn't pulled his hands away. Having come this far, it seemed ridiculous to back out now. He nodded and followed his host in, moving very quietly into the water, reluctant to make splashes.

"I thought it.. was going to be something for you," Matt said, still upright. He never spent much time in water, and while he could swim, it always felt foreign. The public pools in New York always smelled like sewage to him, combined with overpowering chlorine. The latter was here, but not so strongly, not with the open air and the heat of the sun.

Eventually, he accepted the urging and lay back in the water. He was tense at first, struggling to convince himself to just relax and *be* here, but once he did, he was grateful.

The heat of the sun warmed his black-clad body through and through. The water amplified every sound in it, from the little ripples to the beating of Seth's heart. It pulsated and, because of the feeling of the sunlight, Matt instantly associated it with gold. He remembered gold... or at least he thought he did.

Matt swallowed hard against the angry despair that always came from those tiny little doubts, and he made himself relax again. Focus on floating, on his friend's heartbeat, on the ever-shifting surface of the water, the temperatures within...

It was nice. Very, very nice. He didn't quite know how to completely relax here, instinct constantly trying to tell him that he would fall, but what he could manage was good enough.

"Thank you..."

"It's not rain. And I know there is a comfort in familiar places -- which this certainly is not, but I hope you'll relax here for a while. And... I'm shutting up now."

Seth reached for one of the floating chairs and propped himself up in it, his own soaked clothes and all, and then just kept an eye on Matt, making sure his expression wasn't one of complete anguish at having to oblige the too nice 'kid' by doing something he hated.

After some time, he finally spoke again. "I also thought... well, a hotel in the center of a city in the middle of Comic Con? Getting out of there might help you clear your head. I'll take you back whenever you want, though."

"You don't have to... do all of this you know. I mean I appreciate it, I do, I just.."

Matt went and climbed out when he felt some of the water finally trickle under the bandage.  He pulled his shirt off, wrung it out, then lay it flat on the concrete next to himself. Every movement seemed to take far more energy than it should have, so he just sat still, arms wrapped around his legs, quietly folding in against the pain.

"I just don't want you going to any trouble for me..." but he knew that was always the kind of thing that led to uncomfortable protestations, so he was quick to ask: "what.. what does it look like? Everything here?"

Seth hadn't meant for it to be trouble. Or for it to seem like trouble. All this was for him was coming home. But, he was tired, and had no interest in trying to tell Matt that this should feel like home to him to. Because things didn't work that way. So he let the protestation go without comment.

"Keep in mind that..." what, that he was given the house? That would make him seem worse than if he'd worked for it. "This was my parents house. It's... over 6,000 square feet. Vaulted ceilings. That kind of thing. But the back yard. That's the best part. The pool is an infinity pool. So the far edge drops off straight into the horizon. The rising sun is orange and red. Pinks and purples fade further out toward the water."

He closed his eyes, starting to feel the fatigue of the past couple days. Not just with the super crew. But just being at Comic Con. He was exhausted. "Would you like to sleep? There are plenty of rooms to sleep by yourself. Or, since this place is foreign to you, I can stay nearby. I know I told you I'd take you back. But I have to sleep before we drive again."

Matt sighed with relief at hearing that Seth needed to sleep first; it was a reassurance that Seth wasn't giving too much up. He had never really learned how to emotionally accept kindness, however much he might need it, and it made it much, much easier when it served someone else's needs.

"Sleep would be great. If you don't mind just.. letting me close enough to hear your heartbeat? If that... isn't too invasive or. You know. Weird."

"Not weird. It makes sense." Seth felt like he'd known Matt his whole life. Which he knew was an unfair advantage for him. He felt comfortable with this man and his abilities.

"But, I don't know how close that is. In the room? We can just use the pool house. It's the fewest stairs. Which I think you need."

"In the room, unless the walls are thin... usually, just being in the same house is enough but I'm not.. not up to normal..  standards. Sorry. And -- thank you. For this. For the -- moment of peace."

"Yeah, man. I hope it was enough." Seth climbed from the pool and reached to offer Matt his hand. He helped him up, and then supported his weight the whole way to the pool house.

Inside, there was a bathroom in the back left corner. A set of wicker drawers on shelves. A small sort of kitchenette that wasn't stocked, and then a California king (of course) sized mattress on a boxed frame on the floor.

"Take the bed. I'm going to get out of these clothes. And then I'll crash on the floor."

"You don't have to sleep on the floor," Matt said, the guilt returning. "The bed's..." he put his fingertips on it and took a few steps. "Definitely big enough. And if you're worried that I'll... make a move on you, I won't." Matt found somewhere to hang his wet things up and did so, moving carefully. The last thing he wanted to do right now was trip and fall in the unfamiliar place, reopen his injuries, and be more of a burden on Seth.

Clothes drip-drying, Matt carefully put the splint back on his broken arm, chest tightening a little at the deep, throbbing pain. Once the splint was firmly velcroed back in place, he cautiously climbed into the bed. It felt amazing, too amazing, and he sighed quietly, happily, and took a moment to just enjoy it. He really shouldn't have gone swimming, not in the state he was in, but it was all so different, so nice, so distracting. The pool, the company that knew him so well and yet still bothered to be kind, the comfortable bed. He didn't feel like he deserved any of this, but Matt admitted to himself that he was too selfish to want to give any of this comfort up.

Seth only nodded, went to the bathroom to hang his clothes over the shower rod, and then returned with a towel wrapped around his waist. This was why he'd been offering to sleep on the floor. Not because of any notion he had that Matt would end up wanting him, but because he'd be in nothing but a towel. But if he stayed on his side of the bed, Matt didn't have to even know, he supposed.

He smiled as he saw Matt already comfortable in the bed, and he climbed into the other side. He scooted just a little closer, now basically laying in the middle of the bed. so he was sure Matt would hear his heartbeat.

The blinds were drawn on the doors, so at least some light was kept at bay, but Seth longed for the darkness nonetheless. "Anything else before we pass out?"

"Hope you aren't offended by me being naked," Matt said, lifting his face from the pillow he'd had it half pressed into. "Otherwise... this bed is amazing... and I'm never leaving." He rubbed his cheek on the pillow.

His eyes were already closed, and he'd wiggled out of the towel, tossing back onto the floor. "Naked is fine," he replied, rolling onto his side, and falling asleep within moments.

It took Matt longer to sleep. Once he found Seth's heartbeat, he settled into it and relaxed again, as best he could in a strange place, then finally slipped away

The longer he slept, the louder Seth's heart seemed to get. When Matt woke in the late afternoon, it was a drum, accompanied by the whooshing of air into his lungs and the rushing of blood moving through his veins. Matt lay still for a long time, just enjoying it, but finally had to get up.

He felt stronger than before. Not recovered completely, which would take weeks, just not like he was in danger of falling from just one step. Still, he moved carefully and quietly.

After using the bathroom, Matt got dressed, then went back outside. He found the edge of the pool and walked it, barefoot, until he came to where it dropped away. Then, Matt walked out on the submerged part of the wall. He stopped in the middle and just listened.

Sounds bounced off the smooth surface of the water behind him. Behind him, there was the massive house. A friend. The sun beat down on the stone, creating an oven. It was nice.

But in front of him? A sense of great space. Emptiness -- but not just the same as when he was on a rooftop. The ocean was out there. The ocean. Vastness itself. Daunting. Intimidating. Beautiful to look at, so many people said, but Matt didn't know. He'd never seen the Pacific. He never would. He would associate it with a friend's heart and with a hot morning of silence. He would think of the Pacific as a place where sadness and gratitude blended together. For him, the ocean would look like this moment, at least until he made a new memory of it -- but his companion's heartbeat would always be part of it.

Eventually, hurting too much and starting to shake, Matt carefully made his way back into the pool-house.

When Matt had gotten up, Seth had started to stir, but the quiet closing of the door as Matt left the pool house that he finally managed to open his eyes. He didn’t immediately stir from bed, figuring if Matt needed help, he would have said so. Or, if he at least needed a guide around the place. But when he took a while to come back, Seth finally grumbled, sat up — his curls in complete disarray — and went to the door. He watched as Matt stood at the edge and remembered doing that a time or to as a young kid. He never stood on the wall, but in the edge of the pool, looking out at forever.

“Did you sleep well?” Seth asked when Matt returned, pulling his phone out to see if he had any missed called from Ryan, Carol or Ollie. “Are you hungry? We have bagels.”

"No, thanks," Matt answered, his voice sounding worn again as he came and carefully stretched out on the bed once more. He was sweating lightly and just hoped that Seth would think it was from the sun, not from pain.

"And I slept okay. This is... it's a lot nicer than the hotel. Thank you. It's... tranquil here." Yeah, Murdock, get all poetic why don't you? Matt rested the broken arm on his chest. "What uh, what about you? Did you sleep okay?"

“Yeah, well enough.” Seth settled back onto the bed, suddenly wondering why he hadn’t thought to put clothes on while he had been up, checking on Matt through the door. Oh well. Again, it wasn’t as if Matt would _see_ him naked. What did it currently matter?

“I haven’t slept in the pool house in some time. Years, actually. It was never my room, but even though I still live here… it’s strange for this place to be inhabited again. Even if it’s for a night.”

"Is it weird to be in here? Are you okay?" Matt turned his face towards Seth. "And if you need to go eat, don't feel like you.. have to stay here, or wait with me or anything... I mean I'd honestly really like to hear more about you, but just... take care of yourself first.." saying it felt lame and awkward, and Matt already wished he hadn't. He was goddamn terrified of ending up as someone's charity case -- something he hoped wasn't in the comics. All too often, people made too many concessions for him because he was blind, gave up too much to make his life easier, and while he appreciated it, he just didn't know how to take it without guilt, without fear that he'd truly become a burden, the sort they'd never cut free because they'd be too ashamed to abandon him.

“Nah, I’m good. I’ll have coffee and bagel after bit. I’m jewish, I don’t go without the bagel and schmear.” He chuckled and looked down at his hands. Seth knew well enough that he wasn’t the most interesting person. He’d spent his life reading comics and sailing and… Well, all the things nobody else wanted to participate in. Which was why, in much of high school, before Ryan got there, he had been president and sole member of many of the schools extra-curricular activities. He tried to shrug the uncertainty off. But he’d never -truly- learned how to bite his tongue.

“I know… you would likely rather be helping the other two. And this place is kinda lame. Nothing exciting here. But I’m glad you let me bring you back here. No wonder you think I’m a kid. I can’t stop talking to you like a hero — like I’m star struck. But I am. Because I know what you do. I know who you are. And that’s… Well, you’re giving me the time of day, and that’s pretty great, if you ask me.”

Matt didn't understand how Seth could be so grateful for attention that he'd praise anything at all, but the thought hurt him. Seth was kind, and anyone kind deserved attention. He shook his head once, then flexed his hand carefully, moving his arm a little inside the splint.

"It feels... this is weird. Knowing that you know more about me than anyone, but you're still -- here. You even know about Ele... about her. Even Foggy doesn't know that. You.. I wish I could be the hero you know. Teach you some combat or... be able to walk next to you, rather than needing to lean on you.. but, and this is.. just pure selfishness... I'm also kind of glad. To know you, I mean. To have been hurt so that we ended up.. here. A stone's throw from the ocean. A world away from the city.

"It.." Matt was quiet for a moment, but found his resolve and went on. "It seems like you got overlooked a lot. Too much. But the people who chose not to see you, or choose not to... they're the losers. They... I know you're not a kid, now. That... wasn't because I thought you were immature. It's because I'm... jaded. And subconsciously equate the relative innocence of others with youth. If it.. if you're hurt, at all hurt, that I.. thought that... I never meant for it to hurt you."

"No. I'm not offended. Or hurt. I talk a lot, and often about very few relevant things other than myself." He smirked, but of course the expression went unnoticed.

"And yeah, I know about her. Knew a girl kinda like that once. Well, in her own way, I suppose. She's Little Miss Vixen now, in my comics. And, as if it's not enough that I appreciate the kind of man you are, and as if I'm not self absorbed enough, I'm going to relate with you and say I, too, had my run with my Elektra. But after she moved to Rhode Island to attend Brown, she never seemed to miss the sun enough to come back."

Seth couldn't blame her. She'd found herself in college. She'd grown. And he was genuinely happy for her.

"My past is not something to be sympathetic toward. Sure, I was lonely, and a bit of an outcast. But my parents loved me. And I eventually found the best friend who became my literal brother," and lover, for a stint of time, "but I managed."

It took effort to take a breath between thoughts, so it didn't feel like such a non-sequitur.

"You know, you can trust Foggy with your truth."

"About Elektra?" Matt shook his head. "He only just found out about.. everything else. I'll tell him... eventually I'll tell him, I'm just -- scared. Honestly. He was so angry and hurt last time, I'm scared of telling him... that while he and I were first becoming friends, someone almost stole my soul. I almost let her have it. He could.. probably use more time before i hurt him again... and... i'm just making excuses."

Thinking about her always left Matt feeling sick, made his skin crawl, and it showed. "I'm sorry you had an Elektra in your life. Love is nice while it lasts, but when it's... with someone who wants to destroy you, remake you in their image.. it's hard to get over... a lot of.. darker feelings."

After a long moment of silence, Matt asked, "So what's the deal with your parents now? Are they... not in the picture anymore?"

"They're in Berkeley. It was a home they lived in together before my mom started working for my grandpa's housing development business. But when he passed, and Ryan and I graduated, they didn't really feel the need to stay here."

Seth shrugged and relaxed back on the bed, his eyes closing, pulse slowing as he relaxed. He wouldn't sleep again, but he could find a nice meditative state, even while talking.

"I go see them at least once a month. They're good people, my parents. I always believed they were better than this town deserved."

"They must be good, to have raised such a good man. Or, two good men, I guess... tell me more about Ryan? The things you love most about him, what you think he loves about you, that kind of thing?"

As Seth relaxed, Matt felt himself relaxing in turn, his body setting itself into sync with the other.

"Ryan? He's from Chino. Which, is the rough neighborhood. He was one of my dad's clients when we first met. He had been arrested for stealing a car with his brother. And my dad was his public defender. But for some reason? Dad decided to bring him home. He couldn't be released without a guardian, and his mom was a flake and nowhere to be found.

"Anyway, he ran into Marissa, when she lived next door, and she invited him to some fashion show. That started their whirlwind romance. On again, off again teen drama. We all got so swept up in it. But she was a good person, a good soul. She just... her mother was a bit intolerable. And her dad was an investment broker, I think? I don't remember. It was a long time ago and it was before we were really friends, anyway, her dad stole millions of dollars from his clients, which happened to be the parents of her friends, and all hell broke lose.

"Back to Ryan. Right. On our first night, we went to the fashion show that -he- was invited to, not me, and then went to an after party, again, he was invited, and then we got into a fight with the water polo team. Mom walked into me passed out in the pool house hung over and with a black eye. And that was the start of our friendship."

Matt laughed softly at the picture Seth painted and he shook his head. "I'm glad you have each other. It sounds like something made to last."

Seth smiled. "He taught me how to stand up for myself. I... think I taught him how to let people in. He's my best friend. And always will be."

"I can see how you would have taught him that," Matt said sincerely, then fell quiet. He wasn't sure what else to ask anymore, and it was so easy to just enjoy Seth's heart.

Seth, too, was surprisingly quiet for a beat. "What about you. I mean, I know about Foggy. I know how you became friends. And I know about Karen, even. But think of the graphic novels as an episode of television. There are always holes. Behind the scenes, things. So tell me more about him?"

"He's... the kindest person I know. He tries to pretend not to be.. he acts tough, sometimes, but his heart is.. it's pure. Good. Foggy.. makes people feel loved and appreciated just by talking to them. It's like he can touch your hear without even trying. When he's happy, he makes the people around him happy, too. He's sweet. He's so...damn sweet.."

"He sounds better than he's written. Which, I suppose is the case with most humans. A written biography hardly ever does a person justice. Or it only highlights the good parts."

Rolling onto his side, Seth tucked a hand under his pillow and looked sleepily at Matt. "What do you hope the graphic novels got wrong about you?"

"I guess I hope.. that I'm less afraid in them. Braver, maybe."

"Being afraid dies not make you less brave. The opposite is true, in my opinion. It takes pushing through fear to qualify as an action being brace. Otherwise... there is no fear of my toothbrush, or my toothpaste. So the act of brushing my teeth does not require bravery." Seth shrugged, still watching Matt. "So you can only have one or the other. More bravery, or less fear.”

Matt was quiet, thinking of all the times Stick had told him to stop being afraid, all the times Elektra had mocked his fear of becoming evil. Fear wasn't okay, not for people like them, but some part of him still clung to the words Seth said, although he still felt like the kid -- no, like the other man was giving him too much credit.

"It's not... getting hurt that I'm afraid of.. my body's just -- a means to an end. It's... the fear of waking up one morning having gone deaf.. or the fear that.. I'm a burden to the people in my personal life... that... they'd really be better off without me, but I'm too -- cowardly to go. That's... what I hope the comics don't write about. I hope they let kids have a hero... not.. a jaded coward." There was too much bitterness behind his words and he knew he'd gone too far, offered too much truth. Nobody ever wanted that. So, with a small grimace, Matt quickly added, "Sorry."

"I have a question, Matt, and you don't have to answer, if it's too much, or however you want to think of it. But... are the civilians of Hell's Kitchen a burden?" He already thought he knew how Matt would answer it, but he wanted to give him the opportunity to respond however he wanted. Free of judgement.

Matt frowned. "No, of course not, they're just people."

"Why do you deserve less compassion?"

Matt understood, but he didn't know what to say. He was quiet for a long, long time, thinking about this -- about how Seth's sentiments echoed what was taught in the church, about how Matt would have said the same for anyone else. He thought about how irrational fears were and how necessary strength was -- strength like this, like Seth had.

Eventually, he curled up on his left side since it was relatively uninjured, facing Seth, and touched his forehead to the other's chest. That seemed to be all he wanted, for Matt simply went still and quiet after that -- seeking peace, seeking something quiet outside of him, some calmer than the storm always within. He wondered if Seth knew just how valuable his wisdom was -- and if he understood how profoundly fucked up most vigilantes were.

Seth hadn’t really expected the contact, but he didn’t shy away from it either. The silence, however, was something he -had- expected. Once Ryan’s residence within the Cohen home had become more of a permanent thing, Ryan had had to learn what it was like to live with loving parents who -wanted- to spoil their children. And he’d had to learn what it felt like to have people care that he succeeded, and wanted to give him every means to do so. Essentially, Seth had had to teach Ryan how to allow himself to be spoiled.

But with Matt… allowing yourself to believe that people who were offering kindness were not burdening themselves, was not the same thing as being spoiled. It was giving other people credit to be just a generous and warm hearted as Matt was himself. Seth knew that no matter the situation, Matt would give anything to Foggy or Karen, Ollie or Carol — anything in his power for the ones he cared for. So why was it so difficult to believe they would return the sentiment? Practicality, it seemed, was a difficult thing to come by.

Gently, his hand lifted so that he could run fingers through Matt’s hair, and he closed his eyes against the lowering California sun. If Matt allowed nobody else to show him a little compassion, Seth wanted to make sure he wasn’t left wandering what it truly felt like.

Matt fell asleep again as Seth stroked his hair. The compassion was overwhelming, especially as exhausted as he was, and all his body knew to do with it was sleep.

When he woke, the sun was long-since set and the night was cooler. Matt rolled onto his back with a soft sigh of pain, but he reveled in how relaxed he felt. Seth was a miracle worker, it seemed.

For a few minutes, he just laid still and thought about everything that had happened. He worried about the others, he tried to make himself accept that Seth wasn't angry about having to care for a stranger. His mind wandered. He could smell Seth's breakfast, which brought a small smile to his face.

Matt had just gotten up to go and find the not-kid when things changed. He wasn't sure exactly what it was but in an instant, he felt threatened. Matt moved swiftly to a wall and went still -- he didn't even know if there were lights on in here. He didn't hear any buzzing from overhead, but that didn't mean light wasn't streaming in from the windows...

What the hell was happening?

When he heard another heartbeat and a soft step, Matt quickly tied his blindfold on. He was dressed from earlier, but still barefoot. No matter. He pulled his sticks from their sheath on his thigh and focused intently on what was happening.

Seth. Kitchen. Another building. Safe so far.

A stealthy step, a steady heartbeat, the faint scent of rot, of oil, steel, gunpowder.

Deadpool.

Fuck.

Matt's lip curled but he held his position a moment longer, listening. Deadpool was creeping towards the main house, probably drawn by lights...

This was going to hurt, but fuck it.

Matt stepped out of the pool-house and into the open, sticks in both hands. He prayed Seth would have no idea what was happening out here, and that if he did? He'd have the sense to hide.

"What do you want?" He asked, his voice taking on its harder edge.

"Oh, you know. A really cute bikini body. A massage from Natey-poo -- and by massage I mean with his dick.

That kid's head on a pike.." the playfulness was there in Wade's voice, but something in it sounded empty. Different than the man they'd fought earlier.

Matt's skin crawled. "Leave."

"Can't."

"Something's wrong with you. What has he done to you, Wade?" Matt moved as he spoke, picking a place that, if Wade fired, hopefully no bullets would ricochet and hurt Seth. /Please hide, Seth. God, please keep him safe./ Matt's mouth felt dry.

"He who? He haw? Did you just make a donkey pun? No. You made me make a donkey pun! Ooooh, Daredevil, you little minx!" He reached for his pistols, but something in him pushed the thought away. Guns would kill the devil, and he didn't want him dead. Not really. /Then why do I feel like I've been brainwashed into a murder machine by Thanos and Adam? Huh. Weird/. Without another word, Wade drew both katanas and somersaulted over to the Devil. "Nothing personal! Just gotta kill you!"

After that, even if Seth hadn't heard them talking, there'd be no way he missed the sounds of the fight.

Seth had left the doors open to the main house, hoping it would be enough that he would at least be able to hear when Matt stirred once more. But he had grown hungry, and something about sleeping all day had given him a craving for a decent breakfast meal.

He had been in the middle of pulling bacon off the skillet when he heard voices.

Wait. Voices?

With a piece of bacon hanging out of his mouth, he moved toward the door, stopping short when he saw Deadpool. How in the -fuck?-

The most recent film adaptation had emphasized the heart behind the man. But Seth knew the level of crazy Wade Wilson possessed. And, it seemed, he was squaring up against Matt. Fuck.

Fuck fuck.

He moved back inside, ducking down and trying to essentially crawl toward the stairs leading up to his room. When he'd made it halfway up them, he pulled his phone out, did a quick internet search, and then dialed the number for the hotel, asking for Carol and Oliver's room, if they were even still there. They couldn't get here quickly, he figured. But maybe Matt could hold them off.

The phone in their room rang and rang and rang, but no one answered.

Outside, Matt knew he was going to lose, but it didn't matter. If Wade had instructions to kill whoever helped them, whoever was a threat to this master plan, so be it. He'd buy Seth as much time to escape as he could. Seth had a car and a brain, he'd be okay. He had to be. Protecting him was the only way Matt could ever repay him -- even though, he thought cynically, it was his fault Seth was in danger.

Accepting his death was liberating. Matt let go of his own pain and fear and embraced the fight. Wade might be virtually indestructible, but he'd never come up against Daredevil before. Not alone. Last time, he'd had an alien force to help fight the three, and now? Matt was determined to make him see that he'd bitten off more than he could chew.

As for Wade? He was used to being the baddest guy in a  fight. He wasn't used to the silent rage that filled this sexy little nutbag. If he didn't have a job to do, he might just get on his knees and offer to suck him off -- but he had a job to do. Roight. Crikeyfuck.

Wade didn't see the next blow coming. He should have, since he could /see/, but it came too quickly. The hard little goddamn sticks smashed into his hands, breaking both.

"Mother fuckstick!!!" His swords dropped with a clatter and he yowled, then knocked Matt into the pool and dragged him down, down, down to the bottom.

I'll be fine. But you. Cocksucker. Fuck. You.

Soon enough, everything went quiet.

Long minutes later, longer than it should have been, Matt drifted to the surface. He made it to the ladder, made it out of the pool, then collapsed to his knees, unable to take another step yet, listening for Seth.

Please be gone... please be gone...

When the phone had proved useless, and Seth had left a singular message with the receptionist -- Wade -- he thought about what to do next. Wade Wilson was, save for a nuclear blast (and even that might not kill him) indestructible. But he was also not a bad guy. Not a bad person. He had his enemies, but when had they become a part of the Marvel heroes instead of Francis and his fuckwads?

It didn't matter. As dumb as he knew this reasoning was, he couldn't leave Matt alone. Besides, where would he go. He had listened to them fight, watched as they'd gone underwater, and his stomach twisted when Matt didn't soon resurface. Seth sat in his kitchen floor, the door still open, the stove and waffle maker still hot.

How did he tell Carol and Ollie that he'd gotten their friend killed by taking Matt so far away from any hope of help?

It took a few minutes for the pounding in Matt's head to calm. When it did, when he heard Seth's heartbeat back in the kitchen, he whispered a very quiet swear. This little shit. Little fucking brave shit.

There really was no time to be angry, though. Wade would wake again soon enough, and this whole thing would start over.

"Seth.." Fuck. His voice was too hoarse. He cleared his throat and tried again, managing to be a little louder this time. "Seth.. do you have rope? Or.. a lot of... tape?" Matt somehow managed to push himself to his feet, although he wasn't convinced he'd stay there long.

Crawling toward the double doors on his hands and knees, he peeked around the corner and let out a breath of relief when he saw Matt standing there.

"I mean, yeah. The rope I usually use on my boat is in a drawer in the pool house. There are also a set of handcuffs in here somewhere. Though I imagine those won't do much."

"Let's... use both," Matt said, hesitating when he thought to wonder just why Seth had handcuffs. "Can you... get them? And a sheet. And... bricks or rocks or free weights... I'll..." pass out. No. No, I won't pass out. "Be here... for when he gets out.."

The first thing Seth grabbed was a chair from the patio. They'd probably need it anyway, right? In the meantime, he was certain Matt needed it now. Then he ran around his house, stumbling over and ottoman all but falling to his face when he ran back out to the pool house. But finally he had everything. Rocks, large, from the edge of the driveway. The handcuffs, the rope, and a sheet AND a tarp.

"Tell me what to do?"

Matt would have collapsed on the ground if Seth hadn't brought the chair out. It seemed like such a strange thing to do, but Matt was grateful.

"Lay the sheet out flat? Then.. We just.. wait for him to come back up.. then... I'll try to subdue him.  Cuffs first, we'll put him in the sheet, put the rocks in, tie and tape him, and.. hope it's enough. That it gets us... enough time. I'm -- I'm sorry. I know this is.. going to feel like murder. If it's too much, you don't need to -- you've done enough, you know?"

"Whoa. I can't out maneuver him, and I can't fight him off. But I've read tons of Deadpool graphic novels. I know he's impossible to kill. And this... I mean I'm not sure I'll be much more than something new and pretty for him to look at, but I'm willing to help you find a way to hold him off until we figure out a way to fix him."

"If we can keep him in the pool long enough... hopefully Carol will get here... it'll... we'll figure something out. He's better than this... thank you for.. recognizing that." He curled over his arm then, just quietly waiting -- and then it happened.

Deadpool floated to the surface, took a few breaths, and looked around.

"Deadpool.." Matt stood up, then gestured him over. "Come here."

Still dazed, Wade obeyed. He grabbed the hand that was offered and let Matt pull him out of the water -- and then things went more smoothly than expected. In another minute, Wade was unconscious and stripped of all his weapons and tools. They got him bound, then rolled him into the deep end.

Matt sank to his knees and let his head hang low. "You okay?" He asked, voice rough and hollow.

Seth watched with a hand gently placed over his mouth. It wasn’t horror, really, so much as an intense… excitement at being able to watch all this life. When Wade was at the bottom of his pool, Seth looked again at Matt and nodded. Gathering his thoughts, he moved to go stand next to Daredevil, sitting at the edge of the pool, his feet (and pajama pants) resting just beyond the surface, and he placed a gentle hand on Matt’s shoulder. “Tell me how I can help you. You were getting better. And then this happened. But if all we can do is wait for the others… there has to be something I can do.”

Matt shook his head, then turned and rested his forehead against Seth's shoulder for a few minutes, trying to lose himself in his heartbeat.

Finally, he straightened up. "I should probably shower... and wash the blood off everywhere he reopened... if you that's okay?"

Seth stood at the suggestion, the bent to offer more than just his hands, but his arms and what little strength he actually had, into helping Matt up. “Come on. You can use the shower in my room. Then, if you need to, you can crash on the bed. I have some of Ryan’s clothes in the guest room that… Or I can wash the ones your wearing, if you think there’s that much time.”

Matt shook his head. He didn't know how much time they had, having never fought Wade like this before. "If he wouldn't mind, I'd love to borrow something for now..." He had to lean on Seth again as they went inside and to his room, but this time, Matt managed to be a little less ashamed of it and to relax more, which made the process much easier for both of them.

"Thank you. You.. really kept your head there.. thank you for everything."

Standing in his own doorway, as if hesitant to cross the threshold, Seth nodded in a way that would hint his own nervousness about the situation. He’d thought about nothing but for what the comics had prepared him. He’d given up on the whole ‘this can’t be real’ schtick a while back. And now he was just rolling with it. Finally, deciding there were too many levers in that damn shower for one man to be able to maneuver them on his own first try, particularly if he couldn’t see anything, Seth finally moved into his room, and then to the bathroom, and started the shower with hot water that was just shy of biting. “Take all the time you need,” he offered, though they both knew time was a luxury that even Seth couldn’t afford at the moment. “I’ll go get his clothes. And I’ll throw yours in the wash if you’ll leave them somewhere for me. There’s no sense in not doing that.”

Matt listened intently to what Seth did in the shower, then nodded. Before the other could slip out past him, though, he put his hand on his shoulder to stop him.

"It'll be okay. We're not going to let him hurt you. Why don't you just... stay here, or -- near, sorry, I didn't mean to sound inappropriate. While I shower. And we'll do the laundry and clothes together after, so you're never -- vulnerable."

“You’re not being inappropriate,” Seth replied too quickly, talking over Matt as he finished his sentence. He cleared his throat and shifted. Ultimately, however, he nodded. He didn’t know what else to do until Matt moved for the shower. But he knew he wouldn’t be able to just sit on the edge of the bed and pick up a book. He would end pacing the floor between the desk in front of the window and the door. This room, unlike the room he’d grown up in, was large enough that maybe he could count this as like… a mock workout. Or at least something to distract himself while Matt showered.

Seth seemed to tense up more than before and Matt couldn't help but feel guilty. This had to be terrifying for him.

Matt showered as quickly as he could. Afterwards, he came out without any bandages on -- even the water resistant one had been a lost cause after the fight with Deadpool -- and a towel around his waist. If his body had looked at all battered before, it was far worse now. There were significantly more bruises now, much deeper and darker, all of them looking swollen and awful against the muscle.

With the shower off, everything seemed almost too quiet now, save for their hearts and the hum of electronics. It almost felt wrong to break the silence, but Matt had to.

"You okay?"

Seth stopped mid stride when Matt appeared, and his eyes shamelessly wandered over bruises and other injuries. “I have…” He cleared his throat again, wishing it would stop giving out on him as if he were a teenager all over again. “I have bandages. They may not be as… durable as the last ones. But Ryan was known for getting in fights… Anyway. He’s grown up a lot, obviously, over the last ten years, but I learned to be prepared with him living in the house. Bandages. Ice. Handcuffs. Whatever.” He shrugged and he could feel some sort of secondary pain just from looking at what Matt was walking around with.

Suddenly remembering himself, and not wanting to burn a whole through Matt by staring, he picked up the clothes he’d gathered of Ryan’s and carried them over to Matt. “I hope these work.”

"Thanks.. and just something to, to cover this would be.. probably all I really need." He gestured to the incision on his side. Although the surgeon had sutured it well, the sutures themselves were inclined to snag on everything, he was learning.

"I'll just uh..." he cleared his throat, took the clothes, and slipped back into the bathroom. He hoped that Seth wouldn't mind him using his deodorant, and as he got dressed, it occurred to him that as strange as it was to smell like someone else, it wasn't awful.

When he came out, he was moving very quietly and carefully, wary of upsetting Seth again. His host already seemed so tense, and Matt didn't want to show gratitude by making him miserable.

"What colors are these?" He asked softly, even though it didn't really matter. It shouldn't matter. Matt ran a hand a little self-consciously over his chest, smoothing the shirt.

While Matt changed, Seth had slipped into the guest bathroom to grab a first aid kit and came out with dressing for the wound. “Would you like for me to.” Seth moved to the bed, patting the comforter, not even thinking about how Matt couldn’t -see- him make the gesture to join him. But all the same, he figured he would hear it. “Ironically? The shirt has the flash symbol on it. It was the only hero I could really get Ryan into. And considering the clothes I have here of his, your options are that shirt,” which was the softest kind of jersey knit t-shirt, “a wife beater, or a button down dress shirt. But if you’ll come and sit, I’ll bandage you up.”

He’d managed to get his own mind to quiet enough, now that Matt was fully dressed, that he figured he could tend to the man’s wounds without it being a big deal. The catch, that Seth was still yet to remember, was precisely how well Matt could hear. In the comics, it was difficult to forget the man’s talents. But in real life, it was too easy to mistake him for a normal man and figure yourself to be safe of any exposure.

When he lifted the shirt, Seth grit his teeth and rolled his eyes at himself. The man was injured, maybe he could be a little more adult about helping him. And for a brief moment, the mental criticism worked. But while he placed the strip of gauze over the stitches, holding them still while he tore tape with his teeth, Seth had to concentrate to keep from letting his fingers lightly brush over the other man’s skin. When he was finished, he closed his eyes and couldn’t help but let his touch linger for a beat too long before pulling away and standing up. “Right. Okay. So… What now? He’s still… drowning. It seems. How do we get ahold of your friends?”

If not for the lingering touch at the end, Matt wouldn't have thought anything of this. Seth had every reason to be scared, and he'd assumed that was the reason for the accelerated heartbeat until now.

Matt hesitated a moment, licked his lips, then put his shirt back properly in place. "They'll find us... or call you. You left that... note, right? Unless he... even if he destroyed it, Carol will find us. She's got, kind of a sixth sense... I guess it's like the Force? You. You probably know more about it than I do."

The really stupid thing about human attraction was how it could just not be an issue at all until someone else was into it. Now that Matt suspected Seth found him appealing in some way, although God only knew why, he realized he felt the same. With him, the attraction was due entirely to the personality, though. Seth was good. Brave. Kind. Affectionate. Matt was probably being an idiot for even thinking about this at all, especially when he wasn't sure if he himself was even really attracted to men, and.... and he should stop thinking it.

"I guess we... just need to find a way to pass the time.." Matt's jaw dropped at what he just said, he felt himself blush, and he said, "I didn't mean -- if that sounded dirty, I wasn't trying to imply that -- I mean not that you aren't -- your hand is nice -- but I wasn't -- um. We. Just. Need to... kill the time."

Jesus, Murdock.

Matt facepalmed with his good hand.

Seth watched, confused, as Matt talked circles around himself. The comment about his hand had Seth lifting it up to look at it. “My… hand?” In all their time together, Seth hadn’t witnessed Matt this unsure about anything he said, and Seth couldn’t help but wonder if he’d done something to make Matt uncomfortable.

Of course you did, idiot, remember what he can hear and how he senses other people?

Shit.

“No, yeah. I… I understand. Passing the time. There are plenty of ways to do that.” None of which, Seth could think of at this moment.

"Right. Yeah. Of course. Plenty of ways that aren't... um... that aren't... okay there's.. really no way of asking this without sounding even.. even more awkward at this point, but.. is it okay if I get in your bed..? I mean to rest. I'm aching and... it... would probably be a relief, but if it's -- wow, I'm sorry, everything I say just sounds like a bad romance scene doesn't it? I'll. Uh. Stop. Stop talking."

Romance scene?

Had Seth missed signs? Or had he... fuck, he didn't even know. "Yeah. No, yeah, please feel free to lie down. I can turn on some music if it'll help..." Help what, Seth? set the mood??

"I mean if it'll help you relax any."

Should he slip into something more comfortable while he's at it?

"Fuck." Fuck. He hadn't meant to whisper that.

"Where do you want me?"

Sweet Moses.

"I mean. Would you prefer if I left you alone to rest?"

"No! I mean. Stay. You should stay. If you want to. Uh. If you -- if it's not uncomfortable to be in bed with... with me in your bed. If that's -- are you okay? I'm not trying to -- I don't  want to do anything you're not okay with."

Like what, use the wrong pillow? Matt had been able to converse with people once upon a time, he remembered.

He lay back carefully.

Seth hesitated, looking around, moving in choppy, robotic angles, constantly awkward, unsure what to do.

He was over thinking this, Seth decided, and finally went to crawl into his own bed. It was as large as the last one had been, but this one was actively slept in, it smelled of him -- his shampoo and soaps. This was no different, he told himself.

"This is fine," he said, crawling under the covers, tho why he did that he wasn't sure. He wasn't cold. And it wasn't like Matt had asked to be able to sleep. Just to rest. Because he was injured.

Seth slunk down and covered his head with a pillow. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah, yeah, just... tired. Sore. And look, I'm sorry for -- getting so weird just now. I... think I might be... I guess bisexual, and... that's... I'm really attracted to kindness. And I'm sorry for... if I made... things weird. You've been great, the last thing you need is for some.. weird vigilante to fail at hitting on you. I mean because it's inappropriate for me to do that at all... right?"

Seth's head popped up from under the pillow and he looked at Matt with a narrowed gaze.

"But I thought you were getting weird because I was making you uncomfortable -- with the way I touched you or... god, I know technically you couldn't see me staring. But that doesn't mean I wasn't a complete creep and did it anyway."

Seth took a deep breath and rolled to his side. "I think you and I will hit painfully awkward way before we ever hit inappropriate." What kind of response is that, Seth?

"I mean. You're not weird."

Not better.

"I mean I don't think it would be weird. Or inappropriate."

"Oh," Matt said, and fell quiet for several long minutes. Finally, blushing again, his voice sounding a little darker as well now, he said: "It was nice. When you didn't take your hand away right away. I wasn't... you didn't... that wasn't weird. Nice. Not bad."

"Oh," Seth mimicked. He smiled, though, and again buried his face in the pillow, though just for a couple breaths. Just long enough to control the tone in his voice.

"Do you... I mean, if the touches felt nice?" This was ridiculous. Matt had laid with his head against Seth's chest earlier while Seth ran fingers through his hair. "I mean, they lingered because I liked... touch...ing...you."

"You... yes," Matt answered. "Yes. If you want..." but something made him tense again and although it hurt, he sat up. After a moment, Matt relaxed again.

"Carol just landed by the pool."

Though he had been slowly stretching his arm across the expanse of his bed in search of Matt, Seth pulled his arm back and tucked it in against his chest.

"I suppose she needs help? Or you want to talk to her?"

"Or you two could just stay in bed," Carol said, walking in. "Jesus, Matt, what happened to you?"

"Wade." Matt closed his eyes, not comfortable with letting her see them. "He's in the pool."

"He's... is that what that is? I got the gem back from Adam and Oliver's on his way here with him. Warlock's going to open a portal, send us home. Get up. Get ready."

Matt hadn't expected the news to feel like this, to feel so sudden, so wrong. He sat up slowly. "Oh.. I... oh."

"I'll go get Wade." Carol walked out.

Seth had sat up when she'd entered, and he smiled a thin, forced smile when she'd delivered the news that everything was going back to normal.

He felt the sharp contrast from when she'd suggested they just stay in bed, to when she was telling Matt to get moving.

He nodded once, but for once could think of nothing to say. Tomorrow he'd go back to Comic Con, work the rest of the weekend, and pretend like... what? That these past two days had never happened?

"Right. Well, I don't really know how to say thank you enough, for being my friend these couple days. And that I'm... I'm glad I met you. I'm glad to have known you. I..." he looked away as his chest tightened. "Be safe."

"We didn't have enough time," Matt said quietly.

"No," replied Seth. But it wasn't as if they could conjure more. He couldn't just, go with them. He wasn't a hero. Not really. Even in his own comics he was a poor excuse for a hero. And Matt couldn't stay here.

"Can I... would it be weird, or too much, to ask for a hug? I mean, if you're not a hugger, it's fine. Honestly. I just feel like a half-hearted wave and a reminder that it's okay to let people show you compassion just... isn't enough."

Matt couldn't say anything. He got up and went around to Seth's side, and once Seth was standing as well, he wrapped both arms around him and pressed his face against Seth's shoulder.

What could he say? His throat felt too tight to speak now and his chest had decided to ache. Seth was too good, he had given Matt too much kindness and faith, and he didn't want to leave now. Not yet. So he held tight and tried to pretend this wasn't the most final sort of goodbye there could be.

Seth hated how familiar this felt. Summer leaving off for college. He and Ryan deciding that they were better off as “brothers” instead of lovers. But even them, he’d see again. He had seen again. But Matt? Seth would only read about him and his adventures. Hopefully he’d watch as Matt decided to trust Foggy. As he conquered the threats to Hell’s Kitchen. He would get to see him again. But he wouldn’t… Nothing like this would ever be an option. Nothing real. And he had known that going into it.

He couldn’t even offer for Matt to take Seth’s graphic novels with him. So they could at least share that kind of closeness.

Instead he tightened his grip, but tried not to be too tight, knowing how much Matt was hurting. “Thank you,” he whispered.

Matt nodded once, but stayed where he was. This was stupid. He shouldn't have gotten so attached to Seth so quickly. This wasn't the time or the place to form a friendship -- but then Adam and Oliver had arrived as well, and Matt knew it was time. He knew, but he didn't want to believe it. He didn't want to ask what all he and Seth had missed. He didn't want to know any of it, he just didn't want to go.

When he finally stepped back, he opened his mouth to say something, but no words would come. After an awkward silence, Matt stepped close again and kissed Seth on the lips, gentle and sad at once.

Dark brows cinched together as he felt Matt's lips on his. A first kiss should never have to be a last kiss -- learning someone new only to have to watch them walk away for good seemed like a fate too cruel to be real.

But this was real, Seth had decided. All of it. Every crazy bit of it. And he wanted more. More adventure. More friendship. More of this.

One hand slid gently to Matt's side, while the other cupped his face, and he deepened the kiss just enough to tell Matt that he'd be missed.

And that was the only way Seth knew how to say goodbye.

For once, Matt wasn't embarrassed to cry. The tears had escaped while they kissed, and when he stepped back, they glistened on his cheeks and darkened his lashes.

He shook his head, wishing it wasn't like this, and then he turned and walked out.

-

The Daredevil comics changed after that. Matt seemed to be both softer and sadder; he slowly started to let people in, but never close enough. There was an unexplained scar on his side that drove fans crazy -- and several years later, when he died, Foggy went to clean his apartment out and found a mysterious letter unfinished on his computer.

Dear Seth --

I think about you often. You changed my life. You changed me. I know you've always been with me. You care. Even when I'm broken in some dark alley, I know you care. Your memory makes it easier to fight and to live.

"We didn't have enough time. I wish I could have heard your voice again. But I have to go do this one last thing and I don't expect to survive it. I'll be stronger though because of you.

Foggy's calling.

And that was it. Some fans were intrigued by the panel. Some hated it. None understood.

Seth had spent years following the Daredevil comics after whole event happened, but he’d never told anybody the details of his time with Matt and the rest of the super crew.

When he read the final panel, read the letter meant for him, he nearly cancelled his appointment to be on the Marvel discussion panel at Comic Con. He was just a guest speaker anyway. More of a host than actually a presenter. Nobody would ask him questions. Nobody would see him -- even if his comics had started to grow in popularity.

This was Marvel. This was the big time.

And so bailing on it seemed like something he couldn’t follow through with. He introduced all the artists, the writers, and of course Stan Lee. He listened as they discussed the decision to finally kill Matt Murdock. And suddenly, a young man, one who reminded Seth of himself at that age, approached the microphone with a note in his hand.

“We have time for one more question,” Seth announced, nodding to the boy.

“Um. This one is actually for you, Mr. Cohen. As a creator of your own comics, are you ever affected, or are you characters ever affected by the deaths of heroes from other universes?”

Seth smiled, though his brows pinched together. His eyes brimmed with tears and he had to look down at his podium for a moment. “Uh...” He hesitated. “I... felt the death of Matt Murdock. I think the loss of someone so vital, someone so good and important -- there’s not a way for it to not be felt in all universes. Maybe it’s fourth wall breaking -- Deadpool would be proud -- but as much as any one of the Marvel characters, the DC characters, or even my characters, I will mourn the death of the Daredevil. Matt was my long time friend. I felt like I knew him. And I have struggled to write anything new for my characters, because we are all grieving. But you can bet, in the next issue, there will be a nod to Matt Murdock’s life.”

[balarsen22]

I see J tomorrow! its been almost a month since our last session. I’ve missed her so much. I decided to write her a letter to tell her whats all been going on in my life. Its the longest thing I’ve ever written that I plan  to read to her:

I don’t want to bombard you with a month’s worth of struggles all at once when you’re just returning from vacation so I’m going to start with some positives. There have been good things that happened too and I did have some okay days, and even had a really good day during the last month. I got into an IP group at CSU thats on tuesdays from 3-4:30 that starts this week. the other day Dr Yap asked if there’s any way they could convince me to become a radiologist after I took some especially well positioned rads on the biggest dog I’ve ever seen- I laughed and said I prefer to live in the land of color, but it was a really good compliment. I started cross fit and it’s going to be really good for me I think- the intro classes have been good so far, and I have still been able to do stuff since breaking my hand with some adaptations. my thumb and pointer finger are going to be strong as fuck by the time this is healed. I have gotten to know Colton, the equine imaging intern, a lot more between doing the equine imaging independent study and him being in the cross-fit class, which is good. I really like him a lot and part of me hopes that maybe we’ll become more than friends, but I highly doubt he’d feel the same way. being just friends is always good too. And I got some good news after being really worried about Jake, because she’s increased her water intake quite a bit and wet her bed last week, and she’s woke me up a few times to let her go out to pee in the middle of the night. all the labs came back as normal so far, apart from her usg being a little low, but its not renal failure low. we did an abdominal ultrasound on her, and her kidneys and everything else is normal apart from a small nodule in her spleen that is most likely artifact, and we did chest rads too so we could get a baseline. everything was normal, and since she’s healthy apart from drinking and peeing a lot, i’m not going to keep putting her through tests and procedures. so I’ll just keep an eye on it and I’ll bring her in for a recheck if things continue to progress. Breaking my hand is giving me excellent practice using my left hand, which will make me a better surgeon. I used a lot of coping skills this last month, and have listened to 4 audiobooks. My new roommate Christine moved in this last weekend, i think she’s a really good fit- she had moved all her stuff here using a horse trailer, so I think she’ll fit in just fine. Life went on, and I have continued to break my personal record for consecutive days I stayed alive, and have survived 100% of my worst days, and all those other uplifting sayings. 

Seeing Jeff went okay, but I don’t really trust him and he just doesn’t know me. I didn’t seem to be on the same page as him a lot of the time. And I’m still very afraid of talking about how dark my mind can get when it comes to being back at the CSU counseling center. During our first session I pointed out that I didn’t know what all he knew about me because I didn’t really know how much you filled him in on, so he told me an overview of what you had told him, and that he had heard of me back when i was in iTeam. It was really surprising and embarrassing and it brought up so much shame. i always cringe internally when i think about how crazy and stupid I have been in the past, especially when i think about my sophomore year of undergrad. I tried to move past the shame though and be honest with Jeff during our 3 sessions, and he did have some good ideas. we talked some about how to improve the relationship between you and I, and how I can start to regain your trust. I think the only way I can do that is to continue to be honest and work hard in therapy, and behave myself outside of the office. And if I want to lie to you about something, I tell you I want to lie instead of lying. I don't really know if there's anything else I can do. He suggested maybe figuring out a way to allow you to verify things, like how when people cheat in relationships they give their partner full access to their phone, but I don't know how that would work in here. I mean, Im willing to be held accountable to things by allowing you to ask people to verify things if you want, but i highly doubt you want to. But if you do I’ll sign the forms. Jeff suggested that because I end up lying when I try to explain why I’m feeling something, I should just state what I’m feeling or what I felt. I've really struggled to deal with how alone I feel. It feels like you're the only person that I don't have to hide anything from. I tried hard with Jeff, but I definitely was much more cautious about my words and the topics we talked about and tried really hard not to say anything that might cause alarm, especially after getting asked for awhile about the suicidal thoughts because I marked them on the form (even though I downplayed how frequently I’ve been having them on the form). I guess I wanted to avoid allowing myself to get attention for how much I was struggling so I tried to downplay things a bit. I didn’t consider it to be lying, but now that I’m writing about it I realize I wasn’t being completely open and honest about how I was actually doing and technically that is lying by omission. God damn it. I really didn’t mean to lie to him, I just didn’t want to draw attention to how much I was struggling because I didn’t want to be attention seeking. god fucking damn it. Its been a really rough couple of weeks for me mentally and emotionally, and i guess physically too. I’ve been feeling really low and just don’t have any interest in anything. I wake up feeling hollow and numb and empty and disappointed that I didn't die in my sleep, and as the day goes on I transition to feeling like I have a heavy weight on my chest, and I end up with a lump in my throat, and it gets hard to breathe and my entire body feels heavy. It gets to the point that its painful. I feel like I’m drowning and it feels like I’m going to cry but I never do. I seem to drift to the idea of suicide all day long, but I felt that I couldn’t talk to anyone about it. I can see that people would be affected by my death, but in my opinion it wouldn’t last for long. I would just turn into a memory, life would go on. Yeah it would hurt initially, but I feel like I wouldn’t be a huge loss in people’s lives. It’s not like I’m anyone’s first choice, or second choice, or even third. the pain would come up occasionally at like holidays or something, but they’d be okay. I feel like o one actually needs me in their lives. I’m just a background character and easily replaceable. I feel like I’m not enough for anyone, and I never actually will be no matter how hard I try. And it seems like the harder I fight it the tighter it holds onto me. I've been fighting a lot with the idea that I don’t know if the fact that I struggled so much was directly related to you being gone, or if it was more how I subconsciously believed I should feel with you gone. over Labor day weekend I got high, and for some reason I got racing thoughts about this stuff. I haven’t gotten high since. While high I got the idea to name my factitious disorder “Effy” because it sounds like F-D, similar to how people call their eating disorders “Ed” to separate the eating disorder from themselves. I started to get racing thoughts and wrote down the narrative of exactly what was going on in my head if you want to hear it, but it started out with the idea of “Do I have factitious disorder and do my urges get worse because of my combined depression and anxiety personality disorders acting up? or has effy been causing them all along? What if the only reason I'm depressed to begin with is just for attention. It's like asking what came first, the chicken or the egg?” I struggled with a lot of other similar concepts too- even to the point that if this existential crisis and philosophical moment was because of the weed, or just because its something that I know can happen with it. But basically everything comes back to "is this how I really feel? or is this just how Effy thinks I should feel?". the thought has really stuck with me and I'm really confused about it. I tried bringing it up with Jeff, and he said that either way I still feel the way I feel no matter what the cause is. it didn’t really help because I would use different coping skills or treat myself differently depending on the cause, and I probably would’ve been more open about how shitty I felt like I was doing if I had known it wasn’t just for attention., but i guess either way I feel like shit and I’ve been wanting more and more to give up and die. I kept trying to remind myself that I don’t have to be worse for you to care about me and to make you believe that I need help and I need you, and that I don’t have to show you how much you help me and how much I rely on you by completely falling apart without you, and that I don’t have to be worse to make sure you don’t abandon me or anything like that. but it never really changed how much I'm struggling. So maybe what I'm feeling is real, I'm not sure. It probably made me use skills more at least since I was trying to avoid doing something for attention, but they didn’t seem to help much either. Well, I guess they help in that they're keeping me safe and I haven't ended up needing to go to the ER or anything, but they never really made me feel any better. And even with them I still slipped up and cut twice on 2 particularly bad days, and I’m really sorry. 

I’ve been leaning more towards not reaching out to people at all in case its just the factitious part of me doing it for attention. I’ve been trying to avoid getting extra attention as much as I can. Your absence has really made me realize that you’re the only person I feel like I can actually talk to. Apart from you, I don’t really have anyone to talk about the heavy stuff with right now anyways. There was one day early on when you were gone that I was really struggling, and my mom had happened to call, and I tried reaching out to her but i guess it was more in a way of testing the waters. I brought up how much I dislike school right now and how burned out I feel, and she just said that she’s sure I’ll bounce back soon and just brushed it off. I didn’t try to talk to her about anything else. I went to dinner one night with Megan and Shannon and Cameron for Megan’s birthday on a particularly bad head day, but that left me feeling even worse. had it been anyone besides megan I wouldn’t have gone, but I’m trying so hard to repair that friendship so I forced myself to go. I was with the people I used to consider to be my best friends, but I felt completely alone the entire time. All I could think about was how I wanted so badly to go home and die. How I wanted to find a gun and shoot myself. I did my best to engage in conversation and pay attention, but i felt so alone it hurt. When they finally decided to leave for the bars and I went home, I stopped on impulse and picked up some blades on my way. I cut when I got home. I felt really guilty and ashamed about it afterwards, and but in my head all I could think was that its better to cut than to end up in the ER on a psych hold. The next day I realized how fucked up my reasoning had been and I felt even worse about it, and then to add to it I started to think about how angry you were going to be with me for it. The whole situation with taking a big step back from Megan has been really hard for me. I realized a few days after our last session that even though I thought I could logically think it through, my emotions were still very black and white and I was reacting like our friendship completely ended, when in reality our friendship has been given a second chance. It still feels really devastating and I still get engulfed with feeling abandoned and with self hate and self blame, but  I try to remind myself that she's just taking a step back, not telling me to get out of her life for good and to never speak to her again. It’s been really difficult for me though, and for the most part I’ve been avoiding her. I did try to see if Megan wanted to take the dogs on a walk on saturday morning this last weekend, and when she finally texted me back 2 days later she said sure and that she’d text me when she was up, which would probably be around 9am. on saturday morning I waited, and waited, and she finally texted me around 11:30 that she was up. by the time we met up at the trail, it was already starting to sprinkle and was windy and a bit cold. she had brought cameron along too, which i guess is fine, she just hadn’t mentioned he was coming too and usually he doesn’t go with us. It felt like she didn’t want to be there and that she wanted to avoid being alone with me. Our conversation was light, talking about derby mainly and her dad who just came to town and how he’s doing, and work. Mainly she talked. but after a bit it began to rain harder, and we turned around. It was just a disappointment of a day. I was really hoping to get to spend some quality time with her, just the two of us having fun and working on rebuilding our friendship, and instead of that we walked dogs for about 30 minutes in the rain, after I was left hanging pretty much all morning and planning my day around us going. and on top of that the dogs barely got a walk because it was cold and rainy the rest of the day on top of that. its just frustrating and disappointing and it hurt. I feel like it was just a reminder of how unimportant I am to her now. lately I’ve also been trying to take a step back from hanging out and connecting with Shannon, mainly because she never wanted to or could when I asked and eventually I’ve stopped asking. A big part of me has been wondering if she’s avoiding me and secretly hates me or doesn’t want to be my friend, and I guess I’ve slowly been convincing myself thats the truth. but I also needed to get myself back to seeing her as just a friend and it was hard to do that and keep hanging out, so maybe its for the best. but whatever the cause is, we haven’t hung out just the 2 of us in about a month now. And I’ve been so down lately that i haven’t really gone ahead with hanging out with hurt or holly more. I know that isolating myself from people doesn’t really help, but it hurts less than feeling completely alone when I’m with the people i consider to be my friends. 

I also just don't have the energy or motivation to try right now- I’d rather just curl up and disappear these days. and there’s a part of me fuels that by rationalizing in my head that drifting away from people now means I won’t hurt as many people when I finally kill myself. I guess suicide has been on my mind a lot these days. I hate school right now, even though I should love it. I just don’t care anymore. I want to care, but I don’t have the energy or motivation. Vet med used to be the thing I was living for. And now its not. Now I’m living just to not cause more pain to people than I already have caused. I don’t enjoy anything anymore. If I wasn’t already $100grand in debt I would seriously consider dropping out. the thought has crossed my mind several times. I’ve been skipping class, and lately when I do go I’ll be trying to pay attention, and then all of a sudden there’s a heavy weight on my chest, a lump in my throat, and its hard to breathe. and I just want to leave. I want to go home and go hide. i don’t want to be in class. I don’t want to pay attention. I don’t want to go to work. i don’t want to have responsibilities. I don’t want to have commitments. I just want to go curl up with my dogs and fade away from the world. I care, but I don’t care anymore. at that point, I want to get drunk and kill myself. But all I can seem to do is sit there and stare at the wall in silence. I guess it's like a mental health equilibrium, that I want to do something destructive but my lack of energy and motivation prevents it. I sit there and fantasize about shooting myself, but I don’t want to bring it up to anyone because I feel like its just attention seeking. I start to think about ways I could get a gun, like to just go to the shooting range, rent a gun, and put a bullet straight through my brain. I imagine what it would feel like, to put the barrel to my temple. to curl my finger around the trigger and pull.  I start to think about writing a  goodbye letter, saying how sorry I am but I couldn’t handle it all anymore. but I don’t even know who I would leave it for anymore, and there’s not much else I would say in it but I’m sorry I wasn’t strong enough to keep going, and that I can’t keep living like this. When you’re drowning in the middle of an ocean with no land or boat in sight, I don’t want to learn to be okay with drowning. I want to get out of the water and onto a fucking boat, or let the end come quickly. because right now I’m out of energy and barely keeping afloat, and there’s no boats in sight. Maybe a boat will come or maybe I’m swimming towards shore, but maybe I’m not? or maybe I’m just too far and instead I’m going to get hypothermia and drown. I don’t want to be alive anymore. I want to stop this pain. I’m all choked up and I feel like I can’t breathe. I feel like I want to cry, but the tears don’t come. they never come. I sit there having a meltdown internally in the middle of the classroom, and eventually I’m able to tell myself that I shouldn’t be thinking of this stuff and that I need to pay attention to the task at hand and put the thoughts in container, but its like the container they go into is heavy and sits right on my chest. Even if I can stop the thoughts, the feelings don’t really go away. I go home for lunch every day now so I don't have to socialize too much, because I’m afraid that I won’t be able to hide whats going on in my head and I don’t want to draw attention to myself for how shitty I’ve been feeling. I know isolating doesn’t help things, and its probably just a depressive episode, so I started cross-fit at the beginning of the month to try and help me get back more into the routine of exercising again to try and combat the depression. I know I need to start working out and running again, but I don’t have the motivation to do it on my own anymore, so I joined cross-fit since they offer classes every day and you sign up for them before hand and getting my moneys worth helps as a motivator to go. I still drag my ass to derby too, but I’ve been pretty closed off with everyone there and haven’t had many ups recently. 

We had a roller derby tournament on the 14th and 15th. The first day of the tournament I actually had a lot of fun and remembered why I fell in love with derby to begin with. It was a good day all around, and I was in a really good mood too. I found out before game one that I was going to be one of the constants on the track (vs rotating in). It was a huge confidence boost for me, as I have always been a “rotator.” I have worked so hard and have come so far in the last year, and I felt like I played my heart out. We won both games. Derby was fun. I was really pumped up, and really happy about it. I hurt my hand at the end of the second game, but the rest of the day couldn't have gotten any better. for a little while, I was able to escape the dark cloud I live in these days. I got to enjoy it. I considered going into urgent care Saturday night after I hurt my hand, but I was afraid i was just making a big deal out of nothing just to get attention. I iced and took ibuprofen instead, and taped it for Sunday's games and tried not to draw attention to it. But day 2 of the tournament was the complete opposite for me from the day before. I got told that morning that I would go back to being a rotator for our line, and it completely crushed my soul and my confidence and my excitement for the day right away. several other things on top of that made it a really bad day for me mentally. I was being a poor sport about doing what was best for the team and was acting like an entitled spoiled brat. I just couldn’t understand what I did wrong on Saturday that made me get dropped down again, I thought I had played really well the day before but obviously I hadn’t. and while my fingers were taped I hadn’t said anything about my hand hurting (even though I no longer had separate knuckles because of the swelling and it ached like a mother fucker), so it wasn’t like I was bumped down because of that. And then even when I did get to play, Bull was acting really frustrated with me on the track which made me shut down even further. I assumed she was frustrated with me because I was playing poorly and kept making mistakes and getting stupid penalties. I was seriously afraid I was going to start to cry on the bench at one point. I didn’t handle any of it well whatsoever. At one point bull even argued with one of the bench coaches that I wasn’t supposed to be going on the track next even though Georgia had wanted to sit one so I was going to go in for her. but with the big deal bull made Georgia said she’d go in. When I skated away to the other end of the bench bull went to say something to me, but i stopped her and just said ”bull, I love you, but right now I can’t talk to you. I need to calm down.” She looked really pissed but skated away. I went up to her at halftime a few minutes later and she said not to take it personally, that she just wanted to make sure that Georgia got equal playing time, which was annoying coming from her since she was a constant on the track. She also said she was frustrated with the refs and the bench coach and not me, but she still didn’t change her attitude towards me. I tried to be a positive force on the bench, but I didn’t want to be there. I didn’t want to be at the tournament even. We ended up winning all 4 games and the tournament, but I just wanted to die. I wanted to quit derby, even though i had just been reminded the day before how much I love playing. I was so down that I even called my mom on the way back and told her how bummed out and down I had been about having to sit and that it had crushed my confidence, but she made some comment like “well thats how it is” and “there’s no I in team”, and basically told me I shouldn’t be feeling that and how I should just be happy for the team and that we won. It just made it all worse, and I don’t know why I even tried reaching out to her. I guess probably because I didn’t have anyone else. I couldn’t stop thinking that I’m just overreacting anyways, its probably all in my head and I’m probably just being really dramatic and making a big deal out of nothing, and letting it get to me too much. And I shouldn’t have let myself get excited and proud of myself to begin with for it. I ended up cutting that night. After realizing how badly I fucked up again I got even more upset, and I called summit stone. The call didn’t help a ton, but it helped enough. She calmed me down some about feeling so  horrible for letting you down and told me to give myself some credit for wanting to cut so badly for the last month and only slipping up twice. It didn’t really help with fearing your reaction and how bad I feel about letting you down, or the guilt and shame of fucking up yet again, but at least I didn’t cut again that night and I haven’t cut since. She kept trying to remind me that I’m doing the best I can right now, but all I can think of is that either my best is not enough or I should’ve done better and worked harder and I’m not doing enough. Either way, I still feel like shit about it. But I do want you to know that the main thing that stopped me from continuing and got me to call at all was realizing how disappointed you’d be, and hearing your voice in my head saying “I can’t work with you if you’re going to hurt yourself”.  I'm really sorry, and I don’t want to sound like I’m making excuses for what happened and why I slipped up, because there’s no real excuse. I’ve really been dreading how disappointed and mad you’re going to be with me, and I’m really praying that you aren't going to fire me as a client. Especially because I avoided it with jeff both times when I really shouldn’t have. I just didn’t want it to be an attention seeking behavior and I didn’t want it to become a big deal, because I had the feeling it would’ve been. but now I just realized that bringing it up only with you could be considered attention seeking too. god damn it. I’ve been trying so hard not to do things that might be attention seeking, but it just keeps backfiring. 

It turned out I broke my hand during our second bout on saturday and my fear of making it a big deal was bad, and turned out to almost make it worse. Monday morning my hand was still really swollen and achey, and eventually I decided to go in after my equine surgical anatomy rotation in the morning much due to the urging of holly who was my lab partner and saw how swollen it was. I went to CSU’s health center and got x rays, and the doctor said that I had an avulsion fracture. he sent me to PT to get a splint and to make an appointment with the hand surgeon at CSU to make sure it wouldn’t require surgery, but the PT was in disagreement that it was a fracture. The radiologist also said it wasn’t a fracture, but the doctor was convinced. Nearly 4 hours later they sent me home saying it wasn’t a fracture and just had me tape my fingers together. they said that they’d have the hand surgeon look at the rads when he was there Wednesday to double check. I got the rads on a CD and was looking at them at work Monday night to try and figure out what the dispute was about. I thought i saw a fracture, but I also wasn’t sure if I was seeing it just because I almost wanted it to be broken. like something deep inside was really disappointed when the radiologist said it wasn’t fractured, and I hate so much that I had that feeling. It just didn’t feel like how much it was bugging me was justified unless it was broken. Colton also agreed it was fractured, but I didn't go back in because I didn't want to make a big deal of it, and I hated that I had the feeling of satisfaction I got from it being broken. then on tuesday I got a call from the doctor who said he got a second opinion on the rads, and the other radiologist agreed with him that it was a fracture, but I could just stay with it taped until I met with the hand surgeon, but if I really wanted to I could come get a splint. Anyone who's in medicine knows that with any type of fracture you need to stabilize the joint above and below, but I didn't want to give  myself the satisfaction of a splint drawing attention to it so I just left it taped. But by Thursday morning my hand was throbbing so badly in class that i could barely function, so I went back to the doctor to get a real splint for it. I went to American family associates instead of CSU though, because Monday reminded me why I don't go to the CSU medical center. The doctor I saw there looked at the rads and was obviously horrified that it was even a question it was fractured to begin with, and that they only had me buddy taping it to the finger next to it. I felt really validated that I wasn't just being a weenie about it, and realized later that was satisfying the attention seeking part of me and I while it felt good to be validated I also hated myself for how good it felt that she was validating how much it was hurting me, and I hate mself even more for the surge of appreciation and satisfaction when she said ‘you poor thing’. She also had me get an appointment with the hand surgeon at the orthopedic center of the rockies for the next day because she was concerned I had done further damage by not being in the splint. I went to the hand surgeon friday, and was told that while there’s joint involvement the fracture is stable and it shouldn’t require surgery, and i was given a different brace, which he said i can skate in. i have a recheck in about 3 weeks. So basically the entire thing was a shitshow and me trying not to make a big deal of things backfired and made it even more of a big deal, and resulted in me probably getting more attention than I would have had I just gone into urgent care on saturday night. I don’t know how to balance my attempts to not be attention seeking vs making sure i get attention for things that require it.   

I’ve had this huge fear that you would decide while you were gone that you wanted to be just be done with me and tell me to find someone else to work with. After all we’ve been through I know its irrational, but the fear was still there, and now I gave you yet another reason to get rid of me by messing up and cutting. I think its important that you know that I’m terrified of letting you down. Maybe the fear is good, because for the most part it keeps me from self destructing because I’m so afraid of losing this relationship. I guess the thing is I’m trying so hard to do it all and I’m mentally and emotionally exhausted from it, but at the same time i feel like the effort I’m putting in isn’t enough. I’m so afraid of letting you down, especially because you’ve given me so many chances to get my shit together, especially after the last time I fucked up and lied. I’m always so afraid that if I fuck up in any way you’re going to leave me. I’m afraid that eventually you’re going to say that i’m not worth the trouble, that you’re going to decide that I’m too fucked up and demented and attention seeking and tell me I need to start seeing someone else and that you won’t work with me anymore. I keep fucking up and I’m so fucking scared that you’re going to leave because of it, and I guess you being gone has magnified that fear. I feel like the only reason I have held it together as much as I did was because I don’t want to hear the disappointment in your voice or have your be mad at me when you get back. I really wanted you to be happy with me for how I handled everything with you being gone, most nights the only thing that kept me from doing something stupid was the fear of how you’d react when I had to tell you about it. I’m pretty sure you have become my wise mind, because I kept trying to figure out what you would say to me or how you would react if I chose to do something. But there are some times that I still have barely been holding it together. I feel like I handled you being gone really poorly. Maybe it wouldn’t have been so bad if I could actually talk to someone without being afraid that I’m just being attention seeking, and I really tried to do that with Jeff, but there were some things that I was too afraid to go into. Mainly, how hopeless and bland life seems and the fact that there was one night that literally the only reason that kept me from it was the fact that it would be a really shitty thing for you to come back from your honeymoon to. I need to be able to talk about it but i’m afraid to talk to anyone about it because I don’t want people to overreact and make it a big deal and land up in the ER or at mountain crest, but sometimes I wonder if I really should end up there. Like during the last part of our session and after I left Jeff’s office this last tuesday, I wanted nothing more than to just die, but I didn’t feel safe telling him that because I didn't want to get sent to the ER. I sort of hinted at it during session, but I didn’t directly bring it up. And the problem was I just really wanted to talk to you, because it feels like the only reason I’m even trying anymore is because I don't want to let you down. I have been struggling a lot while you were gone, and I'm really really sorry for disappointing you and fucking up so much, and all I can do is beg you not to fire me. I know that you being back isn't just going to magically make everything all better, but at least I you know me and understand and can explain to me what the fuck is going on in my head and help me make sense of things. And I trust you and I know I can talk to about anything now, even if sometimes it takes me awhile to convince myself to get the words out. This last month has made me realize even more how much it helps me to come in and be held accountable and to be able to talk about everything, and feeling safe in doing so. I don’t feel so alone with it all when you’re here. I guess I hadn’t realized before you left that it was possible to feel more alone than I already did, but apparently it is. and all of this has made me realize how much our relationship means to me, which is really scary for me to admit to you. When it comes to people I feel like I can 100% go to with anything and truly trust with my life, you’re all I have. and its scary to realize that I depend on you this much. I still don’t know if it’s just Effy trying to show you how much I think I need you, or if this is actually how much I need you. I hope your wedding was everything you imagined it would be and that you hand an absolutely amazing trip,. and I’m really glad and relieved that you’re back. I've missed you so much.