#the Bad Thing today was more travel (wow how strange that I have nightmares about travelling now) and getting yelled at all the time

[idontliketomatoesleavemealone]

I find it weird that I had bad dreams both last nights, and I watched rather disturbing videos before going to bed, but somehow neither dream had anything to do with either video topic

[alfredosauce50]

Welcome to Wolfs Rock [Werewolf! America x reader]

Wordcount: 4, 913 Synopsis: It’s only the first day of your trip to Wolfs Rock, and Alfred is already getting on your nerves. You’re both eager to make things work, but the arrival of a handsome third-wheeler jeopardizes the efforts. Mathias Densen, the camp coordinator. Strangely enough, he ends up being a bigger help to your relationship than expected. When Alfred goes missing, he helps you find him. It’s a nightmare on your end, but it’s more of a mystical daydream to Alfred. The reader is referred to as she/her.

It all started on the camping trip in September.

Being not too cold and not too hot, it was meant to be the best month of the year to go and explore the wilderness. Alfred couldn't shut up about a resort inner state. He was always an outdoorsy person, and this place practically knocked his socks off.

Because rather than going old school and pitching up a tent, you were both staying in a picturesque wooden lodge.

He booked a spot overlooking a lake. Surrounding that was a thick forest of pine trees, making for the perfect hiking trail. You haven't even had a chance to admire the scenery yet, having been stuck being the bellboy, towing around his things.

Racing up the stairs to the porch, he spun around and gleamed at you. "Hurry up, already! I'm dying to see the inside of this lodge!" He exclaimed eagerly, turning back to slot the key into the door. "Man, this place already looks better than the pictures."

You hauled up both of your suitcases with a heavy huff. "You know you can go inside first, right? You've always been ahead of me." He shot you a funny look at what you said before taking your hand. The trip had barely started, and you were giving him attitude. Well, pre-attitude. But he wasn't having any of it.

"And you know I'd never go inside without you, babe. Now cheer up, okay? I'm sorry I dragged you around," Alfred sighed, catching a small smile stretch your lips. "That's my girl." The guy had a way with words, so you found yourself forgiving him faster than you wanted. That didn’t mean you couldn’t be mad during the moment, though.

The excitable goof kept running off and leaving you behind. With his things. His fishing gear.

"Ditch me again and I’m taking the car home, Al."

He laughed nervously. "Wouldn’t be the first time."

"That’s how you know I’m serious."

"So I'll chase you down the road. Works eventually," He added, catching a light glare from you. "And we won't be doing that today." He whispered. Taking your cheek in one hand, he leaned in and pressed a warm kiss to your mouth. It was slow and heated, as always. When you returned it, which was hard enough already, Alfred couldn’t help noticing how gentle you were being.

And he didn’t do well with gentle.

"It’s like you hate being around me sometimes," He mumbled over your lips. "What is your problem?" Your attitude transferred to him through the kiss, but he had another way of expressing it. He was leaning in for seconds, and you weren't too thrilled.

Before he could even graze his tongue on you, you clamped a hand over his mouth. "My problem is that you can't take me seriously," You murmured. He blinked, taken aback by your as-a-matter-of-factly tone. "So it’s just as much of a you problem." Releasing him at that, you made your way up the stairs with your things.

Alfred usually would've offered to take your stuff up for you, but it didn't look like you wanted the help.

"But whatever. I don't wanna fight with you."

He hung his head, feeling a hard frown work into his features. So much had changed since you first got together with him. You two weren't always going back and forth at each other. Disagreeing over anything and everything. The chemistry changed for the worse, but one thing remained constant.

He was still crazy about you. Whether you felt the same was a question that needed answering. Once Alfred got his things upstairs, he sat on the bed and watched you change. With his legs sprawled and hands behind his back, he kept a lazy, dazed stare on your form as you took your shirt off. This was the best part. Until he got caught, that is.

Spinning to him with your face flushed red, you tore him a new one. "What're you doing here? Get out!" His eyes widened as a prominent blush took over. Looks like he just made a huge mistake. So he stood up, moved away, and backed up slowly. "Are you dense? Go!" You gave him a strong shove back. He stopped abruptly by the stairs to keep his footing.

"Aye, ooh—" He threw his hands up defensively. "I’m sorry! I just thought you’d be okay with it."

"No, you peeping Tom! If you had your glasses on, you’d be at the bottom of the stairs by now." You finished, walking to the other side of the room.

Alfred covered his eyes. "So, do I go downstairs?"

He couldn’t understand why you were so mad, so maybe he was dense. It went without saying that he’d seen you in less, and none of those times ended with him getting pushed down the stairs.

"Just turn around. I need your help with sunscreen."

The two of you hiked around the mountains for the rest of the day. You only managed a few bad photos of chipmunks, but that didn’t matter when you took great ones with Alfred. He certainly talked enough to be one. By the time you returned to camp for dinner, you'd forgotten what you were so annoyed at him for. Maybe him getting hurt had something to do with it.

"Only kids trip over their own feet," You laughed, pushing him to the side to get him staggering all over again. "Some track star you are."

Alfred shot you a heated glare. "I'm not a kid. I just couldn't see the weird shrubs an' stuff!" He kicked at a stray pebble on the path, but missed it completely. "If you had eyesight as bad as me, you'd get it."

"Nobody could have eyesight as bad as you."

That comment alone got him chasing you around in circles. "Big deal, I got my glasses!" Being starved half to death and tired out of your mind, you let him catch you with ease. While he panted over your face, he pressed breathy kisses all over it. "My foot's getting worse and it's all your fault."

"Stop!" But he kept going, and you never pulled away. Instead, you returned the affection and wrapped your arms around his neck. While your lips met again and again, the only thing you could think about was this—it felt good to be on the same page as him again.

Getting him to sit down had never been so difficult. So you promised you'd get him a little bit of everything, and that did the trick. While you ran off in the cafeteria, you had your head turned to the guy, watching him beam at you with two thumbs up. What an idiot, you thought, but you weren't so much better yourself when you ran right into someone.

The collision was hard, almost as if you ran into a pole. When you glanced up at them, it became clear why—he was huge. "I'm so sorry! I wasn't looking where I was going," You apologized. Your uneasiness, however, melted away when you heard him laugh. When he fell quiet, his energy never left his toothy grin. Something about him reminded you of Alfred.

Blonde, blue eyes, and oozing with charisma. But rather than having his bangs swept to one side, his hair stuck up in all sorts of directions.

He hadn't even opened his mouth yet, and you could tell his personality was just as big as he was. "Don't worry about it! Didn't feel a thing," He piped, turning to the side to hand you a tray. "Here you go. Oh, and don't get the coleslaw. It tastes like soggy newspaper shavings."

"Thank y—" Before you could manage another word, the stranger pulled out a plate from nowhere and plopped a few potatoes on it. "—ou." He set the plate on your tray and gleamed at you.

"Try this. It’s the best thing in the cafeteria. I'd know cuz' I made it myself."

"Wow, um—" Your gaze traveled down to his dress shirt, and over his breast pocket was a name tag. That explained a lot. "—thanks, Mathias," He gave his name tag a playful tap as if to say, that's me. You gave a firm smile as you leaned down to take another tray. "You work here as one of the chefs?"

The man followed you down the aisle. "Eh, a little bit of this, a little bit of that. I'm the camp coordinator,"

"And they let you in the kitchen?" Mathias shrugged. "Huh. Sounds like fun." You mused, filling up two cups with ice-cold water.

"That's why I work here," He hummed, extending a hand to point at your trays. If the second one wasn't for you, then—"Is this your way of asking me out?"

Alfred suddenly felt a sharp pain shoot through his leg. "Agh. Stupid foot," Kicking it up onto a chair, he pulled up his pant leg and inspected it. His foot was cramping, and the bandages around his leg were loosening by the second. "Dammit. Some camping trip this is." While he tightened up the rings of white, he caught sight of two figures in his peripherals. One of them he recognized to be you, but the other was a complete stranger. "...?"

You were walking in his direction, and so was he.

"Making friends already, are we?" Alfred mused. You took a seat opposite him while the stranger slid a plate his way. He eyed his food for a moment before catching sight of the name tag. "Oh. Never mind," He would’ve left it at that if it weren’t for your newest pal pulling out a chair. "... Uh... Who’s this?" He tried to be friendly, but his face wasn’t having it.

"Just some dude I bumped into," You explained eagerly. Mathias beamed at Alfred, whose brows were raised in an unimpressed look. "Turns out he organizes everything here. And I was kinda hoping he’d help you with your bandages."

"Right," Alfred tensed up. Great, now he felt bad. The Dane leaned forward and set a first aid kit on the table, making the cutlery rattle. "Wait, wait, wait. You don’t have to do that! I’m totally good. See?" He pulled his pant leg up to reveal a sloppy job of patching himself up. "It’s drying up."

Mathias craned his head to the side. "I dunno about that, friend. You don’t wanna get an infection," He rolled his sleeves up and started rummaging through the trauma kit. And damn, was he ripped. "Alcohol is best for stuff like this."

Alfred wrinkled his nose. "Alcohol? But—agh, fuck!"

"Dude," You whispered-shouted, darting your eyes to the table beside. A couple of kids were staring and cackling at the man who just dropped an F-bomb.

"Fudge! Hey, can you chill with the rubbing?"

The act of kindness turned into something else. It used to be just you and him, but Mr. Camp Coordinator here decided he didn’t have a job to work anymore. Alfred even brought that up disguised as a harmless joke, but Mathias was too unassuming. "But I am doing my job! I’m making sure everybody’s having a good time. Trust me, you’ll have a better day with your leg all fixed up," He grinned, giving his back a few hard slaps to make his torso bounce.

"Yeah, okay, haha. Enough about the leg. I can’t even feel anything anymore," Alfred stared at him through his eyebrows. His reaction was more than enough to get you to slow your movements. What was his deal? Whatever it was, you figured that Mathias had overstayed his welcome. So you did what anybody would’ve done. You lied.

"So, Mat..." Mathias lit up while Alfred’s frown deepened. Mat? Really? "... Alfred and I were just gonna wrap up for the night. We were planning to get up early and go... Fishing,"

"Fishing? Awesome! You know, I’ll be around for the first info sesh. I’ll see you there!" The other chimed. While Alfred shot you an angry look, you shrugged in defeat. Just when he thought things couldn’t get any worse, Mathias got out of his chair and appeared behind you. There, he draped an arm over your shoulder. "So, what’s about that date? Yay or nay?"

Immediately after you gave him a no, Alfred pulled you out of the place. Needless to say, neither of you was joining Mathias for fishing in the morning.

"You said I was dense, but that’s what I call dense!" He hissed, pointing at the cafeteria accusingly. He gave his head a frustrated shake as he continued down the path. You followed after, feeling your chest tighten as he walked off without you. After a few suffocating seconds of silence, he marched back and pulled you into a tight hug. Thank God.

"I’m sorry. This is kinda my fault," He screwed his eyes shut while you squeezed him back. You were way past being upset at anybody, being drained in all manners someone could be drained. All you wanted was to curl up under the covers with him and forget what happened tonight. But fate had something else in store for you both.

"I need to cool off. I really want tonight to work," Alfred pulled away, showing you a small, albeit sweet smile that got you weak at the knees. Handing you the keys at that, he gave one final wave before disappearing into the dark in a brisk jog. "I'm gonna take a walk. A quick one. I'll be back before you know it! So, put on a movie or something!"

"Okay! Don't take too long!" You called back. "And watch the leg!" When you stood up straight again, you found yourself smiling in excitement. Aside from what went down earlier in the day, you were hopeful everything would pan out the way you wanted. He would’ve agreed if he heard you say it.

The walk back to your lodge was short. While you made your way back, you'd glance up at the night sky to watch nature's fireworks. The full moon was huge. There was something ethereal about its ghostly white glow, so it was too bad Alfred wasn't here to see it with you. Without warning, your train of thought was interrupted by a wolf’s howl.

"... Oh God." Letting him run off by himself didn't seem so good of an idea anymore. But you trusted him to be smart. So long as he stayed on the main street lit up by street lamps, the chances of him getting eaten were pretty low.

"Oh, cool! A secret trail!" Alfred mused. Diverging off the path he was on, he wandered into a darker area of the camp. It looked like a field they used to pitch up tents in. The edges were lined with tall pines, so he figured not to get any closer to them. "I guess this is where everything stops,"

He pulled out his phone to turn on the flashlight. The second he turned on the beam, he was met with a wolf sitting several yards away on the grass. Turning its head to the source of the light, it bared its fangs and let out a low growl. "Oh, shit—" He breathed, taking a few steps back. He needed to get the hell out of here before he had his face ripped off.

The animal began to rise, never tearing its reflective yellow eyes off the man before him. That was when Alfred entered panic mode.

While sweat ran down his temple like bullets, he stumbled out a few words. "Uh... Nice doggy?" The creature managed to stand, but not on all fours. Instead, it stood on two legs like a humanoid.

"Wait. What?"

It lunged forward and pounced on him, head-first.

"Pick up, pick up, pick up..." After several failed attempts at calling Alfred, you were really starting to freak out about the idea of finding his dead body somewhere in the woods. When he said he’d make it quick, you never thought it meant over an hour! That warranted an explanation over the phone, but he couldn’t do you the least of giving you that. So what did you do? You called for help.

"Yello? This is the camp coordinator of Wolfs Rock Camp. What may I assist you with that you need assisting with tonigh—"

"Mathias! Hey! Is this Mathias?" You spoke frantically, hearing a thoughtful hum from the other side.

"Yep, this is me. What can I help you with? Could you tell me your cabin number?"

"Alfred’s missing."

Two strong torch beams scanned around a spot on the wide asphalt road. Even after an hour of relentless searching, neither of you found any sign of him. You even returned to your lodge a few times, hoping to see him outside the door, waiting for you. But he never showed. Exhausted and worried sick, you collapsed onto a bench and hung your head.

Your companion took a seat next to you. "Here," Mathias held out a water bottle under your line of vision. "Clears up the mind. He’s gonna be okay, don’t worry."

Taking it with little hesitation, you downed a couple of generous gulps. "Thanks," You breathed, casting a wary gaze his way. "I don’t know, Mat. We disagree on a lot of things, but I think we’d both know that a few hours is way too long for a walk."

He shook his head with a sigh, then stared out into the distance. The street lamps were going out, one by one, indicating that it was well past ten. Once the last one went out, the whole campsite was plunged into darkness. To say it was eerie was an understatement. "This campsite has been around for longer than I have, and we’ve never had any missing person cases. Ever." Your frown deepened.

He rolled his head to you and showed an apologetic look. "I have to say that you guys are pretty unlucky."

"Very." You scoffed, returning the gesture with a tired smile of your own. "It doesn’t make sense how bad things can get. We’re either at each other’s throats, or something else messes things up for us. It’s almost as if... We’re not meant to be." Your expression saddened, capturing the strong ache in your chest.

Admitting a piece of reality never hurt more.

Mathias reflected that by making another compassionate face. "Hey, chin up. You guys are still together in the end, so I think that’s pretty amazing." He patted your shoulder encouragingly. "Count the lovers’ quarrels an’ stuff as a test. You guys must be crazy for each other to still be good, ya know?"

You lit up just a touch. "You really think so?"

"I know so," He stood up and offered a hand for you to take, and you did. "So, what do you say we save this boyfriend of yours? I know a few spots I haven’t checked yet. I have a good feeling he’d be there."

While he led you around, he’d turn around occasionally to check up on you. Are you okay? He’d ask. Wanna stop for a second? Running around with the guy was like riding the wind. Not only was he fast, but he was also strong enough to pull you around until you became weightless. It was one thing you missed about Alfred, and something you really liked about Mathias. "Alright. Let’s check around this area. If he’s not here, then we’ll have to get the police involved."

You nodded eagerly and ran off. "Thanks again for doing this. I couldn’t have asked for a better person for help." This field looked like an odd place to get lost in, but you had to leave no stone unturned.

He lifted a bush. "No worries! Just doing my job."

"And sorry about what happened at dinner. I didn’t mean to cause any misunderstandings." You continued, bending down to look under a deck.

"Nah, I’m way past that. People tell me I can’t read the room." Mathias called back, watching you walk off to another corner of the field. He turned around to keep looking. "But if things don’t work out with Alfred, I’m free on the weekend." You tripped over something on the ground, but it felt more like a someone than a something. He spun back around. "You know, if he turns out dead or someth—"

"Ahh!"

Mathias carried Alfred all the way back to your lodge. While the Dane cleaned and disinfected his wounds for the second time that night, you stuck around and asked how he was feeling. He’d given you the scare of a lifetime, laying on the ground like that. Not that disappearing for a few hours didn’t do it already. "Are you sure you’re okay? I was convinced I tripped over a dead body—" He gave you a floaty smile. "—I mean, you weren’t moving at all! Maybe we should call an ambulance or something."

"It’s fine, (F/N), I promise. I was just... Really tired," He explained, reaching out to nudge your face with his fingers. Alfred made a face as he laid on the couch. "That fight took a lot out of me, so I took a nap on the grass. But now that I’ve woken up, I feel... Better." His brows came together. "A lot better."

"Wait, you fought the wolf?"

"Well, I guess! He was even standing on two feet, so he had to use his arms to get me... It was like boxing a kangaroo, except not a kangaroo."

"Mathias, is it possible to get a concussion without hitting your head?" You turned to the said man, and he responded by inspecting Alfred’s head.

"Well, you technically could if someone shook you really hard," Mathias murmured, leaning over to examine his face this time. "But I doubt that happened. Maybe he had a nightmare,"

You breathed out a soft sigh. "That won’t happen again, at least. I’ll be sleeping with this idiot," Alfred closed his eyes and practically melted into the pillow. His smile was the biggest you’ve ever seen—you couldn’t bite back a small laugh when you caught it. "Okay, thunder thighs. If you’re so comfortable on the couch, I’ll let you sleep down here for the night."

He shot up and grabbed your hand, catching you completely off guard by his speed. "—?"

"No, I’m sleeping with you."

Your cheeks lit up as you averted his steely gaze. Mathias was still here. As if Mathias read your mind, his movements faltered while he worked with the bandages. He had a deep claw mark down his leg, but it was completely covered once he was finished. So as important as he was, he felt like he wasn’t supposed to be here. "..."

"I was just kidding, you dummy. Of course you are," Standing up from the couch at that, you gave him another look of concern. "I was really worried, you know. I’m never letting you run off by yourself ever again," Making your way around to his head, you leaned down and pecked his forehead. If you lingered your lips on him for any longer, you would’ve felt him heat up in a blush. This whole exchange wasn’t exactly private, after all.

"But if Mat says you’re gonna be okay, I’ll have to believe him." You walked off to the kitchen. "I’ll get you guys some water."

"Thanks! I’m parched!" Mathias glanced down at his patient, then shot him a wink. "Your girlfriend’s crazy about you, dude."

Alfred turned redder than a tomato. "What the hell, man? Just because she turned you down—"

"I’m serious! She couldn’t stop talking about you."

"Yeah, cuz’ I disappeared!"

"Trust me, friend. She’s more in love with you than you think." Mathias grinned. "You’ll see."

Alfred slept like a log that night. When he woke up, the first thing he did was go to the bathroom. After moving you carefully off his chest, he leaned over and put on his glasses. Was it just the morning rust, or was this thing super blurry? Seeing through the lenses made his vision worse than without them. "Huh." Setting them down on the bedside table, he decided he didn’t need them for now.

What he saw in the bathroom mirror, however, had him wondering if he needed his glasses after all.

His reflection showed him with a long, thick beard along with a head of messy, overgrown hair. A few seconds later, he let out the loudest scream.

Alfred’s eyes flew open, but he never stopped screaming. "Ahh!" When he quietened down, he quickly came to realize he was in the same spot as he was last night. The strange field where he met the strange wolfman. Was that all a dream? But that was beside the point. Something was on his legs. He assumed the worst as he scrambled up his feet, but he overreacted. Instead of an animal that was with him, it was a person. And it wasn’t just any person.

"(F/N)?!"

You rolled onto your back so you could better see him. "Alfred?!" You spluttered. The body you tripped over ended up being your boyfriend!

"Oh my God, Alfred!"

Jumping up so you could throw yourself on him, you wrapped your arms around his neck for a bone-crushing hug. "I was so worried! What the hell were you doing here? Why were you sleeping in a place like this? Was that why you never answered my calls?" While you examined his face frantically, he blinked furiously in shock. Only now did it hit him that everything in the last ten hours was a dream.

Getting carried back by Mathias, getting treated by Mathias, falling asleep, then waking up to a face full of hair. As he lingered on the fleeting memory, he grew distracted enough to lost his footing. Falling onto his ass with a grunt, he never managed to tell you off for it when you hugged him on his lap.

And there on his lap you remained.

He returned the embrace, making sure to pin your head down with his chin while he was at it. "Did you miss me?" He murmured, pressing a stretched out kiss to your cheek. It was a question easily answered by your tight hold on him.

How could he have ever doubted you?

"Your girlfriend’s crazy about you, dude!"

Whatever all that was about, he was slowly forgetting it already. The weird dream was vivid enough to give him the heebie-jeebies, but for some reason, he was glad he had it. But never mind that. What mattered was now, and having you forever. "I’m sorry I ran off."

You squeezed him desperately. It had only been a few hours, but it felt like forever since you’d seen him. "Nothing’s ever normal about you. You can’t even take a walk without getting a search party for you!"

Mathias jogged up to you both. "Looks like the gang’s all here! Good to have you back, dude."

Alfred let out a few breathy chuckles. Nothing was ever normal about you and him, was it? "Hey, let’s be nice. If you mean that as a compliment, I’ll take it," He closed his eyes and sighed contentedly. You were back to kissing him, but the affection translated to something tenfold of what he gave you. It didn’t look like you gave a damn about an audience, so he had to stop you before you got too carried away. "Hey, woah—save some for the bedroom—Ow, ow, ow!"

After giving him a hard pinch on the cheek, you stood up to thank Mathias again. Pulling him in for a hug, he spun you around a few circles before setting you down on your feet. "Maybe next time, eskler." He hummed, giving your head a gentle pat. "If something like this happens again and he doesn’t make it, the date’s still on the table!"

Alfred stood up again. "Could you leave my girlfriend alone?!" He picked up a pebble and threw it right into his head. "I’m not going anywhere anytime soon!"

"Ouch!"

You broke out into a laughing fit when you watched Mathias stumble forward a few steps. When you quietened down, it was just you and Alfred standing in the field. "You really aren’t," You murmured, glancing up at the man with a tender gaze. "But I’m not either." He was already staring, and those love-laden eyes were something you could barely stomach. Because whenever he looked at you like this, you couldn’t resist him. "Let’s go back to the lodge."

Alfred took your hand in his. "You read my mind," He grinned. While the two of you walked off, he noticed that his leg wasn’t hurting anymore. Getting clawed there never happened, but that hiking incident did. It was strange how fast he’d recovered.

"Well, I’ll be damned," He whispered under his breath. The cherry on top was the feeling of you grasping at his arm, a sure-fire sign that you were more than content with him. And the thought got him smiling from ear to ear.

"Maybe we aren’t as unlucky as we thought."

Once the field was empty again, something appeared by one of the pines. A wolf with a beautiful coat of grey fur. It was nothing like the mangy creature Alfred encountered, but there was one feature they shared. When it opened its eyes, a pair of brilliant golden irises were revealed.

I hope you guys enjoyed this. Here's a great photo I found of Alfred: https://i.pinimg.com/originals/00/a9/ec/00a9ec9e3d5952038c89b1c9fda38158.jpgwith

[lilousmustaches]

L.A nightmares

Jensen Ackles x Reader

Warnings: TW!!! Sexual harassement, authorities using their power in a nasty way, dissociating, anxiety. 

Notes: Hey! Here i am after years writing Jensen x reader again! How do you feel about it? But okay... this fic. I had this idea when i saw a thread on twitter that told a story about an event that Jensen was with Danneel, they saw a girl being harassed and Jensen immediataly intervened. I can't find this post anywhere but i truly believe that he is that type of guy. Be safe out there ladies! 

Summary: Jensen and the reader are co-stars and travel to L.A together, just to pass throught a series of unfortunate events. 

xxXXxxXXxx

"Here's the next week script (Y/N)." A girl that worked around the set said polity handing you a large new script. You had seen her around before, what was her name? Lauren... Laura! Was Laura. You hated not knowing people's name, especially those who worked with you and for you, but it was so many people walking around, everyday a new person, that made it a bit hard.

 "Thanks Laura!" You asked with a small smile that she retributed and walked away. You started to leafing through the next script seeing that you had more scenes in this episode than in the last two you appeared. 

 "(Y/N)!" Someone shouted making you immediately lift your gaze seeing a smiling Jensen in front of you. "I didn't know you would be here today!" He said hugging you and felt almost dizzy with his perfume. He was definitely one of most good smelling men you ever came across. 

 "You seen me yesterday J." You said laughing breaking the hug and the struggled. 

 "Still missing you though." He said putting his arms in your shoulders and started walking with you again. You had entered the Supernatural cast years before, being a really important character and recently, Sam's love interest. You didn't appeared on every episode but in the most of them, like Misha, for example. Because of this, he was one of your best friends, along with the boys that eventually you became inseparable. Always hanging out together, laughing and pranking each other. It truly was a family. Although you had to kiss Jared sometimes because of some scenes, you saw him practically like a older brother. But with Jensen... Well, that was a whole another story. "What are you doing here anyway? I thought that you had already taken the fight for L.A" 

 "I had to adjust some details of my last scene." You explained. "Why? You wanted me gone, that bad?" You joked hearing him huffing. 

 "Well, yeah, I can't even look at your face anymore." Jensen joked back making you roll your eyes and he laughed, squeezing you harder. "Just kidding sweetheart, you know pretty damn well that I never can bring myself to be tired of you." He said like it was nothing making you blush a little bit. Usual.

 You were already in the outside part of the set and spotted Jared and Misha coming at your direction. 

 "Good things to say Ackles, because I will be going with you to L.A" You explained when the boys came closer. 

 "Really? Thank god you will be saving me from a boring trip with that moron." Jared said stepping up in the conversation referring to Jensen, because Misha wouldn't be able to go to this one, and you smiled. You would take a fight a few days earlier than the boys but because of the problem with one scene, you had to go with them. 

 "Really, argh, I'm so excited." You said making a strange face and they laughed. "It's going to be my first award!" 

 "It's gonna be fun." Jared said and Jensen smiled in adoration looking at you,  lot shorter than him and a few years younger. 

 None of you knowing what kind of things this trip could bring. And man, there were a lot.

 XxXxXxxXx

"Wow." Jensen breathed out stepping up in the apartment you would share in this three days in the city of angels, Los Angeles. Some of the cast had to come to be present in a award that was going to happen in the city. Jared and Genevieve, his wife, opted to stay in a hotel but you had this friend that was out of town and offered her place for you to stay, and you took it, inviting Jensen since you knew he wasn't a big fan of hotels. 

 "Pretty nice, hun?" You said with a little smile realizing that it had been a while since you stayed in there and he nodded. 

 "Tell me about it." He said looking around. The place was pretty wide and cozy. A little fancy but with a lot of little fun things, like a orange table, some colorful frames around and a blue fridge. Your personal favorite. 

 You two adjusted yourselves in the two guests rooms that had in the apartment beside the suite and started to get ready for the dinner Gen invited you. It was some friends of her and some producers, directors and a bunch of kind of important people in the movie industry. You didn't recognize any of the names Jensen told you that would be attempting to it, but why the hell not, you wanted a fun night with some of your friends. 

 You finally finished your makeup and with a last look in the mirror you step out of the room going to the living room, only to find Jensen there, sitting on the couch, ready to go, scrolling throught his phone. Soon as he heard your high heels getting closer, he lifted his gaze, losing his breath for the second time this day. 

 "Wow." He breathed out looking at you with a loose short black dress, red high heels and lipstick. "You look beautiful (Y/N)." He said honestly staring at you and you felt yourself blush. 

 The truth was that you were completely in love with him. For a few years now. Since you started the series, Jensen caught your eye. I mean, how could he not? He was handsome, funny, sweet, always smelling good and the most important thing.... He was caring. Jensen Ackles was one of the most caring guys you knew. Got a problem? Jensen would listen. Hell, Jensen would solve it. And not just with his closest friends, but with everybody around him. He always offered help, not matter what. He makes sure his PA, and the people around set already had breakfast before work. He makes sure to offers to take water, every time someone get drunk on the casts parties. It was the details. And you loved them all. 

 You quickly became friends, and you were okay with being just that. Besides the friendly flirting it's not like you expected something else. Just having someone as incredible as him to call your friend was enough. 

 "Well, you don't look too bad yourself." You said and he laughed, rolling his eyes getting up of the sofa. "But thank you." 

 "I meant it (Y/N), you look like you could break some hearts tonight." Jensen continued to compliment you as he opened the apartment door. "But let's go miss, Jared said that we are already late." 

 You called an Uber to take the two of you to the restaurant placed in DownTown, a district in Los Angeles, one of your favorite parts of the city. Although you enjoyed every little piece of it, you just loved L.A, it made you feel good. After some minutes in the car, and some easy going conversation with Jensen, the driver announced you had arrived. Just for the entrance you could tell it was fancy. 

 "I thought it was just a dinner." You said immediately when you entered the place, looking around seeing that the restaurant was closed for the event and everybody was up talking and walking around. Some waiters were passing serving some food and some of them with trays serving wine, whiskey and champagne. 

 "Yeah, I thought so too" Jensen said, looking around surprised as well. "Hollywood, and their people with grandeur complex." He said making you chuckle. 

 "(Y/N)! Jensen!" You heard and spotted Jared smiling and waving you, with Genevieve by his side. You and Jensen reached them, after a waiter stopped you offering something to drink, you went with wine and Jensen with whiskey. "You finally got here! I was already thinking you wouldn't make it." 

 "Stop being dramatic, we were just a little late." Jensen said hugging his friend and then Gen. You doing the same. 

 "(Y/N) is so good to see you, it has been a while hasn't it?" Gen said breaking the hug and you agreed. Since you became friends with Jared, the friendship with Gen came along and you two just hit so well, in the set, your friends was mostly males and you loved having some girl company when she was around. She introduced you to her friends, that first invited her to the event. They were also actors, and they explained how they met in a project Gen was part of when she was just beginning her career.

 "So, are you guys excited about tomorrow? Heard you're competing in two categories right?" Aaron, one of Gen's friends, said referring to the awards you would be attending because of Supernatural. 

 "Yeah! Especially this girl here who is totally a award virgin." Jared joked putting his hands on your shoulders and you giggled, rolling your eyes.

 "Can you blame me? It's a big step in someone's career!" You defended yourself. "Oh it definitely is! I remembering when I went to my first award, I was so nervous and I wasn't even running for anything." Aaron laughed taking a sip of his wine. "It's just a great place to meet important people."

 "It sure is." Yan, the other friend, agreed. "But if I'm being honest, we are just in the right place for networking right now. Every big fish that can hire and fire you from any huge project in the industry is here tonight." 

 "I noticed... That guy over the balcony is practically one of CW's owners right?" Jensen said holding his whiskey, discreetly pointing at some guy behind you. Your turned around to look, after all one he was one of the owners of the channel Supernatural passed. The guy was a lot older, bald and plus sided, but you quickly turned around when he caught you facing. 

 "Yep, Tony Garcia." Aaron answered. The six of you passed a few more minutes talking and drinking, until they parted to talk to more people that was there. You got that Tony guy staring from time to time. You walked with Jensen for a bit, meeting some great and important people, as Yan had said. Talked for some time with Jared, he was already funny but got even funnier when he was tipsy. And finally, passed some time with Gen... until you had to go to the bathroom.

"(Y/N) right? The Supernatural star!" The Tony guy stopped you when you were getting out of the toilet, in your way back to Jensen that was laughing with some other three mans. You laughed a little embarrassed, why that guy knew your name? Okay, you literally worked for him but he was way far away in the enterprise. 

 "I don't if it could be called that, but yeah! I'm (Y/N), pleasure to meet you!" You said smiling extending your hand to him and he quickly shake his head. 

 "Nah, I don't do hand shakes with beautiful woman like you." Tony said with a laugh already pulling you to a hug. His hand in your back was dangerously close to your butt, his breath stank like whiskey - a great amount of that -, the tone of his voice and the intimacy he putted on the hug was enough to make you uncomfortable. This wasn't right. You could sense something was terrible wrong. "And believe me when I say beautiful, I mean something else." 

 "Ha ha." You gave him a yellow smile already grossed out by the man in front of you. What he was implying? "It's a pleasure to meet you Mrs. Garcia, but if you excuse me I-..."

 "So you know who I am!" He interrupted you, interrupting your way to leaving the conversation too. His tone already implied power and dominance, as if his name had a big weight in the conversation. "Well, as one of the CW's owners I have to say Supernatural brings a lot of benefits for us. I'm happy about the success of the series! I can see why the audience increased after your entrance." Tony said with pure maliciousness in his voice looking you up and down, showing no shame, looking you as if you were totally naked. "I believe woman don't last much on the show, but it would be a shame if you had to leave." He said and you knew that it was a threat. He was threading you.

 You gulped feeling your throat burning from holding back tears. The only words that crossed your mind was 'Every big fish that can hire and fire you'. God, you were a woman, unfortunately harassment was something you experienced all your life but it didn't make any less painful anytime it happened. The fame industry was gross and you knew that. You heard horrible stories about girls having to do every kind of sick bullshit to only get a chance for audition. You were so thankful that none of it happened to you, that you found a show with the most respectful co-workers and producers you could ever think of. But there you were, face-to-face to some sick nasty man that had the power to fire you in a snap of his fingers. 

 "It would indeed." You said forcing a smile, taking a sip of the wine in your hands.

 "I have to say, you have such a beautiful mouth." He said. "I wonder what it can do." 

 "It sure can drink." You said laughing nervously drinking the entire wine that was left in your glass. Only your glass was still half full. It didn't burned more than holding back the tears though.

 "Oh princess, no need to be nervous around me." Tony said laughing and you immediately related to the sound of a pig. That was what he was. A pig. Once again he passed his arm around your body pulling you close and resting his hand, this time, just down your boob but close enough to be touching. You were trapped in his grip, so close to his face, feeling that alcohol breath. You couldn't think the last time you were so uncomfortable, you needed to get out of there, you just needed. Every single part of your body yelled dangerous. "We're all friends here.... We can even be more than it tonight." 

 "Hey." You heard a deep voice by your side and you almost missed the sight of Jensen's hard expression by the tears that now was blurring your eyes. "Let go man, I believe you're making her uncomfortable." 

 "Hey..." Tony laughed looking at Jensen, letting you go and you didn't noticed you were holding your breath until that moment. You immediately stepped away from Tony, going to Jensen's side. "We were just chilling... what? Playing Dean for so long that incorporated the hero type?" 

 "Yeah, it didn't look like chilling to me." Jensen said not losing his posture and not falling for any of his bullshit. Jensen was in the middle of a conversation with some directors, exchanges tips, when he saw you from far away simply drinking your whole glass of wine all at once. He knew you to well to notice something was wrong, and he didn't need more than 10 seconds to understand what was happening. "And relax! I know how to separate my character really well, but I do believe we have basic ethics principles in common." 

 "Okay smart boy." Tony said with now anger is his features. "Remembering who you are taking to. Supernatural can turn into a one star show really quick. And you..." He said turning to you. "Consider yourself fired."

 "As far as I know you don't decide shit about my show, but I do know that you need to start respecting women." Jensen said in the same low tone, with anger in every word. "Excuse me." 

 Jensen leaded you the way making sure you didn't even pass near Tony again, he was with a gentle hand in your back almost not touching you and quickly you two were already outside and you saw him calling a cab. 

 "I'm sorry (Y/N), I got so angry... You wanna go home or you want to stay more? That dick won't get any closer to you, I promise." Jensen asked turning to you and looking straight into your eyes with concerned. 

 "I just wanna go home Jens." You said with a chocked voice letting the first tear fall down. You were in shock, practically shivering. You always says to yourself that the next time something like that happens, you were going to stand, be loud and not take it quietly. But every time you freeze. Every fucking time. 

 You dissociated the entire way back home, with a million thoughts in your head and at the same time, none. You noticed with the corner of your eyes, Jensen constantly looking at you to check and typing something on his phone, probably letting Jared know what happened and why you headed off. He didn't try to talk to you, and honestly you were grateful for that. 

 Immediately when you entered the apartment, you went to the shower. The water was burning hot but it felt like nothing in your body. You didn't know what trigged you so hard, thinking about it, the situation was kind of quick and it could have been a million times worse. But you were so scared that he would fulfill his word. Mans like him don't just accept being rejected, you felt so small.... Almost guilty. Tears started to fall down desperately and sobs got out of your mouth. You didn't know how much time you passed in the bath but saw some clothes in the bed you were sleeping when you got out. A grey sweatshirt and some boys shorts. Jensen. 

 "Hey..." You said with a small voice standing by the door of the room Jensen was sleeping, seeing him sitting by the end of the bed scrolling through his phone. "Thanks for the clothes."

 "Comfort sweatshirt right?" He joked seeing you in his clothes, referring to when you stole it on set and he passed days looking for it until he found you sleeping in his coat and listen to the excuse that it was your 'comfort sweatshirt', that it made you happy and safe. "Hey... com' here" 

 Jensen said with a soft voice when he saw your face struggling to hold back the tears. He back out laying in the left side of the bed opening his arms for you to join him, and you immediately did. Nestling in his chest, he hugged you strong hearing you cry quietly into his neck. 

 "You know... This is not even the worst that happen to me." You said when you calmed down after some minutes of cuddling in silence and Jensen moved his face away just enough to stare at you, but stayed quiet waiting for you to get out of your chest whatever you needed. "These situations had been happening with me, well with all women, since before we even know what this means. Teachers, taxi driver's, superiors, random people in public places, friends... I just... Tell myself that the next time something like that happen I will stood up for it. But every time it happens I just loose all my courage." 

 "And this it's not on you (y/n). This is unacceptable, shouldn't be happening at all and it's not your fault not having a response for it. This shouldn't be a situation you must be prepared for." Jensen said frowning his eyebrows looking at you deadly serious. "I'm so sorry you have to go through that bullshit almost daily. It fucking pisses me off."

 "Yeah I'm sorry too." You said with a weak smile feeling him stroking his thumb slowly in your back where his hand stood. "Do you think he can fire me?"

"No." Jensen said with certain. "He has nothing to do with Supernatural productions. And even if he could, I wouldn't let them. If he wants you gone, i would be gone too." 

"Jensen..." You were speechless. "Us women really suffer daily, but it makes a little better knowing that there are at least some guys out there that truly respect us. I am lucky to have fell in a job full of you. I really appreciate what you did for me today Jensen." 

 "I'm always gonna be here for you (Y/N)... And it's truly that least I can do." Jensen said with a rough voice. "There was this time on set, before you were even in the series, that Jared's PA was harassed by a camera man... Nobody saw the moment and from one day to another she asked for resignation. Nobody understood and we continued to treat the guy like a friend for months until we finally discovered what happened. I just.... I'm just glad that I was there with you tonight." 

 You just gave him a small smile feeling your heart so full that could explode. It was an awful night, it really was. But Jensen... He was everything you could ever ask in a friend. You hugged him strong and got into a position where your foreheads were touching. Yours and Jensen's eyes were closed but you could feel his breathing and the warm of his lips almost touching yours. You didn't know how long you stayed in that position but you surely didn't want that to end. 

 "I could be like this every single day." You said before you even could stop yourself and frowned when the realization hit you. "Wait did I just confessed?"

 He squeezed your waist to make you open your eyes that stood close because of the embarrassment, and you had to hold your breath when saw Jensen's green eyes, so vivid, looking so close at your tenderly. 

 "Yeah? Cause I would too" Jensen breathed out feeling a weight off his chest. What that really happening? The women he had feeling for months now, in front of him telling she liked him? He saw in your eyes the relief you felt cause of his confession and slowly finally gave you a long chaste kiss.

 You both knew that this was enough for now. The cuddling, the comfort of each other and the lightness of knowing the feeling were both sided was enough. There was going to have the moment for your skin meet his and there was going to have the moment for a serious conversation about your feelings.

 But for now all that matters was being in each other arms, and sensing that the night that started like a nightmare turned into a dream.

Tagging: @esoltis280 @smoothdogsgirl @helloangelicaaaaa @sleepylunarwolf​ @sympathyforluci​ @mirandaaustin93​ @atc74​ @spnbaby-67​ @reginaphalange2403​ @hi-my-name-is-riley​ @mychemicalimagines​ @multifandomlover121​

[vcg73]

Free Kurt - Past Kurt

I wrote one extra story for the Free Kurt, anti-proposal challenge, but it’s a little different. 😊

~*~*~*~*~

“What are you wearing?”

Kurt jumped at the sound of a young and judgmental voice speaking directly in his ear.

He was standing on a wide marble step within the hallowed halls of Dalton Academy, surrounded by dozens of friends, acquaintances, and strangers from the assorted western Ohio high schools that Blaine had brought here today to witness his proposal. A proposal that was currently proceeding from the step below his own, and which Kurt was feeling increasingly pressured to accept in spite of his own very real misgivings.

And while it was a very distracting scene, he had not noticed anyone sneaking up behind him. He turned his head slightly, attempting to pay attention to Blaine’s words while simultaneously taking a quick peripheral peek over his right shoulder.

Kurt nearly jumped out of his skin when the voice spoke again, this time right next to him on the left. “Wait, are we getting proposed to?”

Whipping his head to the left, Kurt frowned. Who was that? He didn’t see anyone.

Blaine faltered a little, apparently noticing his distraction. “Kurt?” he mumbled, hazel eyes darting about as his intended frowned and looked everywhere but at him. “What are you doing?”

“Don’t you hear that?” he asked.

“I’m very good looking in the future!” the voice observed, sounding pleased. “Tall too!  But that suit has got to go. Peacock blue brocade can be beautiful if used sparingly. Maybe a vest or a jacket against an all black suit. Though on second thought that might make it look like you were about to deal roulette in Vegas. But an entire suit?  And with a violet silk shirt to contrast? I know this is just a dream, otherwise I wouldn’t be watching myself, but what has happened to my fashion sense since I got old?”

The young voice was so utterly horrified that Kurt almost laughed in spite of the bizarre circumstance. For he recognized the speaker now. What was even stranger, he remembered now with a startling burst of clarity, that he had had this very dream when he was about 14 years old. Himself standing in what he had thought was a fairy tale palace, watching himself be proposed to by Prince Charming.

Had it not been a dream? For he did recall suddenly that it had occurred following a whack to the head brought about after one of the goon squad, who had already started targeting him in middle school, had aimed badly when shoving Kurt into a locker.  Kurt had told his dad that he’d been hit with a dodge ball during P.E.  His dad had skeptically bought it, not able to prove otherwise, but Kurt had been given a few days off of school that week, and he remembered being watched like a hawk the whole time.

He also remembered having a lot of strange half-remembered dreams that he had written off to concussion.

A little shiver went down his spine. Surely it was not possible that he had done some kind of astral time travel thing. Wasn’t that just a little too sci-fi for the real world?

And yet, he could not deny the voice that was apparently only in his own ears at this moment. For nobody else was reacting as if they heard a young teenager passing judgment on this whole affair.

“Actually, forget our fashion taste. What the hell is he wearing?”

Kurt bit down a smirk. He had forgotten how dramatically fond of italics he had been as a kid. But he focused, really focused for the first time, on that hideous banana yellow creation that Blaine had chosen, and had to give his alter ego a point on it. No doubt Blaine had wanted something that would force every eye onto him. It wasn’t like he had ever been able to stand not having 100% of the attention in any room turned his way.

Blinking, Kurt wondered where that harsh thought had come from. Sure, it was true, but shouldn’t his thoughts be focused toward how romantic this all was? Apparently listening to the point of view of his less inhibited younger self was sparking a little rebellion inside of him.

“He’s handsome, our boyfriend,” the young voice observed in a clinical tone that made his older self want to laugh. He remembered using it when deciding between two equally perfect outfits, trying to decide which would have more of a ‘wow’ factor. “But his fashion taste is terrible and I don’t like the hair. That slicked back Elvis retro thing is so 1995. It also makes him look like he’s pushing 30. Wait. Is he older than us? How old are we?  Are we 30?”

That age must seem ancient to a boy of 14, Kurt supposed. His conscience prickled at the remembrance of his own life plan having been to find someone and become husbands or domestic partners, depending on what the law dictated so far in the future, with him by 30. Before that, he had always expected to live a life of fashionable single fabulosity, with boyfriends by the dozen, while he conquered the career of his choice. It had not been until high school, developing his first bad crush on Finn Hudson, being swamped with insistent hormones, and being constantly surrounded by relationships, that he had started longing for a commitment. Not because he knew what to do with one then, but because he had hated being the only person who did not even have the prospect of a real relationship.

He knew better than that now. So why was he still so determined to do something he knew in his gut that he was not ready for? Even if their ‘teenage dream’ had been perfect, was he really willing to enter into a lifelong commitment before he even hit 20?

Apparently unaware of his thoughts, the voice of his young observer continued with relentless interest. “Oh, my god. Is that Rachel? Tell me you are not thinking of letting Rachel Berry be your attendant. She’s the most obnoxious girl in school!  And she’s dressed better than you! Maybe this is actually a nightmare. Oh, hey, there’s Dad. Hi, Dad!”

Kurt looked at his father, looking slightly confused a few steps below where he stood just behind Will Schuester. Burt looked around surreptitiously, as if he had heard the call, but knew it was not possible for it to be there.

“If he’s here at our proposal then he knows about us!” invisible Kurt said happily. “Did we come out to him, and he’s happy for us?”

The sound of a dreamy sigh made Kurt’s eyes unexpectedly prickle with tears. How well he remembered that feeling. That co-mingling of fear, dread, and hope that had gripped him every time he had considered biting the bullet, and telling his father that he was gay. Of course he would have thought he was dreaming all this, seeing his father in his every day attire in a place like this, while they were both surrounded by the glitter and formality of dozens of smiling peers. Friends were another thing that young Kurt had never been sure he would actually experience in real life.

“If this is a dream, does that mean Mom is here too?” the invisible speaker asked, this note of longing in his young voice going straight to Kurt’s heart. He had heard that question deep inside himself for so many years. The small childish part of him that had never entirely accepted that someone as wonderful, fun-loving, and tenderly understanding as his beautiful mother could just be snuffed out of his world after only eight short years.

“No,” he said softly. He knew suddenly that if his mother had been here, she never would have approved of this. She had held the safety and happiness of her only child as a sacred trust from the day he was born until her very last day on Earth. He had always been able to talk to her about anything, and this would have been no different.  Mom never would have allowed him to compromise his heart and his future for a dream that he already knew did not live up to reality. “I’m sorry.”

He had been speaking to past-Kurt and to his mother, but when he said the words, it caused Blaine to stop mid-sentence with a look of shock. “What do you mean, no.”

Kurt blinked. Suddenly he knew that while he had not meant those words for Blaine, a part of him had actually wanted to say them out loud ever since he walked in the building.

“Kurt, what are you doing?” Blaine said, his voice more annoyed now as Kurt brushed past him to walk down a few steps, looking around at the crowd and realizing for the first time how few of these people he actually knew. “You’re embarrassing me!  I don’t what you’re looking for, but it doesn’t matter. Can we just get on with this thing?”

Kurt turned to look at him, frowning at the irritated question.

“This thing?” he repeated, eyes narrowing. “You mean the thing where I’m missing my flight home so my ex-boyfriend who’s still in high school can ask me to agree to spend the rest of my life with him, even though we’ve only been casually back together as a couple for a couple of days? The thing where we’re both supposed to agree to love and be faithful to one another forever? That thing?”

Apparently he had not entirely lost his love of italics after all. His tone was biting, the reminder of his own youthful hopes and expectations making him feel angry and betrayed all over again.  

Instead of understanding, Blaine actually rolled his eyes. “Not that again. I told you, I thought we were over when that happened! And didn’t I promise I would never ever do it again? Isn’t that enough? Why can’t you just get over it?  It’s not like it meant anything, Kurt.”

That injured way he said Kurt’s voice, the way that usually deflated whatever outrage Kurt felt and caused him to guiltily give in, enraged him this time.

“No, Blaine. I can’t just get over it. Because we weren’t anywhere near over when it happened, and you know it. It’s called a long distance relationship, and what you did was horrible. Our being boyfriends meant everything to me. The fact that you could throw what we had away on a stranger after just a few weeks apart, because I couldn’t devote all of my attention to you while I was starting a new life in a different state? That meant something to me. It meant that I couldn’t trust you anymore. I don’t trust you, and I can’t forget that happened, so I guess I was wrong about being able to forgive it too. I’m sorry, but I can’t do this. I don’t want to spend my whole life with a guy that I don’t believe will keep a vow to honor and cherish me.”

Blaine sputtered. “But, but I . . . what about all this?” He gestured frantically around them as if he could not conceive of such a scene not magically wiping away whatever doubts Kurt had.

“This is all very beautiful,” Kurt said, glancing around at the streamers, balloons, and startled faces that filled the room, “but it’s only a child’s dream. The real world isn’t a pretty song and a lot of smiling faces. It’s hard work, and compromise, and shared joys, and making sacrifices for each other’s happiness. That’s what a real commitment means, Blaine. It means being there for the people you love even when conditions are not ideal. Even when they’re so bad that you don’t know what to say or how to move forward, but you keep trying because you love them too much to ever want to cause that person pain. It means being your best self and making good times for the two of you even when the worst things are happening.”

“I don’t understand,” he admitted, flopping his hands helplessly. “Where is all this coming from?”

Kurt looked at his dad, who was dashing away tears from eyes that carried mingled pride, regret, and new understanding.

“I was reminded on the way here about how much my mom and dad loved each other, and how deeply committed they were to each other. Even when my mom was dying, they never stopped trying to make each other smile. They never would have cheated on each other, or tried to pressure each other into making a decision that they knew was wrong. And when it was just Dad and me, he did the same for me. He wanted me to always know that I had a safe space with him, a home where I could be myself and try to block out all the pain of the outside world. And I did the same for him, even when I was a little clumsy about trying to protect him.”

Burt nodded, his smile wry as he was clearly remembering some of of the awkward, uncomfortable, but always deeply loving moments they had shared together

“I want that again,” Kurt said, turning back to his would-be fiance. “It’s been a long time since I had a place where I know I can always be myself without having to hide half of the things that make me who I am. A place where I can feel safe because I always know that I’m loved and respected. A home where I can be with someone wants to make sure that I’m happy, just because knowing that makes him happy. Because I deserve that, Blaine.  And because I’ll do the same for the man that I’ll agree to spent my life with one day.”

“And I’m not that man?” he asked, sounding genuinely sad.

Kurt looked at him, smiled, and gently kissed his cheek. “No. I hope you will be that man for somebody one day, but we both know deep down that it can’t be me. Our relationship started right here in this hallway three years ago. It’s appropriate that it ends in the same place. Good luck, Blaine.”

They looked into each other’s eyes for a moment, Blaine reading the truth in Kurt’s steady gaze. “I’ll miss you. I’ll always love you, Kurt.”

“Goodbye. Dad, I’ll meet you out at the car.”

Holding his head high, Kurt walked down the steps and past the shocked crowd of onlookers.

“Thanks, Kurt,” he whispered, no longer able to sense his younger self, who had probably awakened from his dream at the same time his present self had ended the swirling nightmare of his unwanted proposal.

Pushing past the great double doors of Dalton Academy, Kurt smiled and stepped out into the sunlight, leaving the past behind him.

THE END

[starryviolentine]

Color Me Blue (That’s Me Without You): A Pre-Apocalypse Story

Part 1 (here)     Part 2 (here)     Part 3 (here)     Part 4 (here) 

Part 5/10: Shell Shocked

March 21, 2001 

Dear Diary,

Ms. Martin came to check on me last night and took my temperature. The good news is my fever’s finally gone! The bad news is I still feel kind of lousy. Can you believe that my cough seems to have gotten worse instead of better? I won’t go into detail (because it’s really icky) but it sounds AWFUL!! Other than that though, I guess I’m okay.

Starting today I’m allowed to eat in the cafeteria again but I don’t have much of an appetite yet. Oh, that reminds me!!! Every day I was sick I woke up and saw that somebody left snacks for me on my desk. Mostly juice boxes, fruits, and crackers but once there was a cup of red jello! I just know it was Therissa. I thanked her yesterday but she pretended to have no idea what I was talking about. I hope Therissa doesn’t catch my cold, but if she ever does get sick one day I want to do something nice for her, too.

B.B.

It isn’t a bump in the night nor the ringing of her alarm clock that wakes Brody this morning. The girl jolts upright in her bed with a start, a nightmare bringing an abrupt end to what was a restless, fitful sleep anyway. Ever since she got back to school the other day, Brody’s had a serious case of the blues. There’s been something troubling on her mind that she just hasn’t been able to shake off, no matter how hard she’s tried. 

It’s her roommate, Therissa. 

Sometimes, when Brody fixates on something so intensely, to the extent that it’s the only thing she thinks about all day, it slithers into her dreams and continues to plague her while she’s asleep. And that’s exactly what’s happening now. To be honest, Brody is actually sort of glad that she woke up when she did. Dream Brody had come back to her room after a long day of classes only to discover all of her belongings dumped in a huge pile in the middle of the hallway. Her bedroom door was locked, which, in itself, wasn’t out of the ordinary, but when her dream self tried to unlock it, she found that her key no longer fit. And then Therissa... Dream Therissa appeared, who told her that she had better find somewhere else to live because she was no longer welcome there.

It was a horrible dream, to say the least.

Brody can’t put her finger on it, but something feels off. For one thing, their reunion was not at all like she imagined. It was late in the evening on that day Brody returned to Ericson’s, and she and Violet had been in the bathroom getting ready for bed when she realized that she forgot to bring her toothbrush along. Letting Violet know that she would be right back, Brody zipped back down the hall to their bedroom to grab it… and that’s when it happened. 

It being the conversation that still haunts her days later. 

With hair still wet from the shower and baby blue bath towel draped over her shoulders like a scarf, Brody opens the door to her bedroom. Therissa hasn’t been in all evening, so the girl isn’t expecting her to be there now, especially because their bedroom was empty when she and Violet left not even twenty minutes ago. But there she is. Therissa sits comfortably, cell phone in hand and feet propped up against the edge of her desk, looking as though she could’ve been there all along.

“Oh!” It catches Brody by surprise and, for some strange reason, she almost feels a little nervous. “Therissa. Hi.”

The teenager barely looks up before turning her eyes back to her phone. “Oh, hey. You’re back.” 

“How was your weekend?” Brody asks, fidgety fingers playing with the doorknob.

“Meh,” Therissa replies flatly, preoccupied with clacking away at the tiny keypad in her hands, “uneventful.”

Brody waits for the conversation to progress, but the question never comes back to her. Suddenly remembering that she has something special from her trip for Therissa, she drops to her knees next to her duffel bag and digs through its contents until she finds what she’s looking for. Brody approaches the teen from the side, holding something tightly in her fist. “So, I went to the beach with my-”

“I know,” interrupts Therissa, cutting her roommate off mid-sentence. “You talked about it for, like, a week.”

Brody’s lips form into a slight pout at the older girl’s icy tone. Therissa doesn’t seem to be in a very good mood. Maybe this isn’t the best time to give her this souvenir. Or... actually, maybe it’s the perfect time. Gifts make people happy, right? In all her life, she’s never met anyone whose day doesn’t get a little brighter after receiving a present. Taking a deep breath, Brody opens her palm. “I got you this.”

Finally breaking her eyes away from her phone, Therissa looks. In Brody’s hand is a small, creamy white sea shell mixed with streaks of sunset orange. The shell is shaped like a horn with a pretty spiral at the wide end, its surface smooth, shiny and unblemished. Therissa’s expression softens and Brody is relieved, taking this as a sign that everything might be fine between them after all. Thank goodness. She was getting worried there for a second.

“Wow, the empty husk of a dead sea creature.”

Brody wilts. Sarcastic joke or not, the comment still kind of hurts. “I thought it was really pretty. I figured maybe you could put it on your bookshelf or something.”

“Thanks.”

When Therissa reaches over to take the offering, Brody notices right away that her roommate’s fingernails are now a different color than when she saw them last… and then she remembers. There’s just one little thing that she wants from her roommate… something that would make her the happiest girl in the world and would make every doubt she’s had about their newfound friendship disappear just like that. Something that would reassure her that Therissa does, in fact, enjoy spending time with her and likes her just as much as she likes Violet.   

Brody doesn’t want to outright say that she wants Therissa to do her nails. In order for it to count, she needs the invitation to come from the teen herself. That doesn’t mean she can’t try to prompt the idea with little hints, though. Keeping her fingers on both hands crossed for good luck, Brody tries one last time to get Therissa to talk to her. “Vi told me you got to hang out together this weekend. What did ya’ll do?”

With a slight huff, Therissa slides her phone shut. “Brody, seriously. We didn’t do anything special.”

The younger girl clams up, picking up on the annoyance in her roommate’s voice. Why is Therissa being like this? Did she do something to make her mad? Brody replays their conversation in her head a couple times, but she’s unable to pinpoint where things might have gone wrong. Things shouldn’t have gone wrong. 

Noticing Brody’s silence, Therissa lets out a long sigh. “Look, if you actually want to hear about our boring weekend, I’m sure V will tell you all about it. Why don’t you ask her?”

V?

V as in Violet?

Their conversation comes to an end after that, and Therissa doesn’t talk to her for the rest of the night. Brody really believed that talking to Therissa again would make everything better, but, instead, it’s left her feeling more worried than ever. Could it be possible that she somehow just imagined that she and Therissa were friends? After what just happened, it’s certainly not impossible. 

Maybe Therissa just never liked her in the first place.

November 8, 2002

Dear Diary,

I don’t have much time because I need to get back to the auditorium, but I’m happy to report that my speech was a success!! I really owe it to Therissa for helping me practice. I never thought that I’d be able to speak in front of that many people without crying or running away or passing out or something. I mean, remember last year when I froze up during that group presentation on Sacagawea? My voice got so shaky that I couldn’t even talk and Meghan had to read my part for me.

I started feeling a little queasy backstage because of how nervous I was. Then when it was my turn, I almost couldn’t get my legs to take me to the podium. The lights up there were so bright and the entire room was full of people staring at me. It was SO scary!!! But then I remembered what Therissa told me about looking out at that line where the back wall touches the floor instead of the audience, and then...

There she was, standing right by the doors! Yes, Therissa came to watch my speech instead of going to class! She gave me a thumbs up and after that I knew I could do it. I just kept looking at her the whole time, like when we practiced in our room, and it didn’t even feel like there was anybody else there. Amazing, right? It was all over so quickly. 

I promise I’ll write more later!

B.B.

What Brody likes the most about her diary -- other than the actual act of writing inside it, of course -- is the fact that it gives her the power to travel back in time and relive the most memorable moments of her life. If she’s feeling sad, looking back at old entries from her happiest days always lifts her spirits. If she’s feeling lonely, getting to read about the amazing times that she’s spent with her family and friends always puts a smile on her face. Even when her memories start to fade, when the finer details start to get fuzzy as the days, weeks and years go by, they still live on within these pages, as clear as the day they happened.

The bedroom glows a dim blue, telling Brody that it’s that part of the morning just before dawn, when the sky is just barely starting to light up. She flips through page after page in her diary, straining her eyes to make out what’s written on them in the dark, desperately searching for a memory, any memory about Therissa that will comfort her. Brody has come across a few already that should have been able to put her heart at ease, reminding her that the teenager does care about her, but it still doesn’t feel like enough. What began as a knot in her belly has progressed into an uncomfortable tightness in her chest, and now it’s infecting her lungs and traveling up into her throat, which now feels like it’s closing up.

The little blue book falls into her lap, instantly forgotten, as all that Brody can think about now is the sound of her own heartbeat in her ears, the sensation of her chest cavity caving in on itself, and the fogginess in her head. All signs of an oncoming panic attack. Before things have time to escalate, Brody squeezes her eyes shut, takes a slow, deep breath and starts to count. 

And as Brody counts, she breathes, matching each of her breaths to a number like a metronome keeping time. She focuses on how the hard, wooden headboard feels against her back. She listens to the faint ticking of the alarm clock on the desk beside her. The sound of her own voice inside her head. You’re okay. You’re okay. You’re okay.  

After a couple of minutes, Brody finds herself in the clear. Although the feeling of panic has passed, the worry remains, hanging heavy on her heart. Whenever Brody comes out of an anxiety attack or, in this case, an almost attack, she likes to turn to her loved ones to help take her mind off things. The same goes for when she has nightmares. Up until now, Brody’s go-to source of solace for both has always been Therissa, even back when she first got to the school. Violet makes her feel better, too, of course. Brody loves her best friend and trusts her with all of her secrets, but there’s just something about seeking comfort from somebody older that never fails to make Brody feel extra safe. 

For the first time ever, Brody feels like she can’t go to Therissa, and it’s the worst feeling in the world. So, instead of climbing up the ladder to her roommate’s bunk and crawling into bed with her like she usually would, Brody forces herself to stay right where she is. She can still hear Dream Therissa’s voice echoing in her head.

“I always hated having you as my roommate.”

Closing her diary, Brody lies back down and hugs the book to her chest. Blinking back tears, she curls onto her side facing the wall. There’s no way she’s going to class today. She can’t. Not when she feels like this. She doesn’t think she has it in her to face Therissa right now, even if it’s just seeing her in the same room while they get ready for school. Brody buries her head underneath her pillow and wills herself to go back to sleep. If she’s lucky, maybe she’ll feel better when she wakes up… though something in the back of her mind tells her not to count on it. 

[sporesgalaxy]

You know what? Fuck it. Here's the whole ass WIP script for the Danny Phantom/Ben 10/Deadpool crossover nightmare, which is called #follow ur crossover dreams, by the way. I think copy-pasting on my phone is gonna delete some italics but whatever.

Reminder that it's still a really early draft with a lot I plan on changing (wade Motormouth wilson doesnt say nearly enough bullshit, for starters), but hopefully u will enjoy it. happy birthday to me, my gift is letting myself share ideas without maximum effort

[BEN is running through a crowd of high school students, excitedly. He is on his phone] BEN: C'mon, Gwen, just tell me where to go! I wanna fight some bad guys today! It's been weeks! [GWEN is on a computer] GWEN: Ben, for the last time, you are NOT going into this alone! We aren't even sure what's causing this yet! Seismic activity at this scale is totally unheard of around here, and whatever's causing it-- BEN: Is gonna get it's butt whooped by the one and only Benn Tennyson! BEN: Don't worry, I can totally handle this! GWEN: Yeah, cause things always work out perfectly  when you say that. BEN: Just give me the location, and you can catch up with me there! GWEN: No, Ben. I'll fill you in when we know more, but.until then, don't run off. [BEN is dejectedy watching TV at home, when suddenly, there is another earthquake. Soon after, a newswoman reveals the epicenter just outside of town, and Ben gets an idea] [BEN gets off a public bus at a bus stop far outside of town. He looks out into a dry hilly wilderness, and down to his phone gps to confirm he is going in the right direction.] BEN: all right...I didn't wanna risk timing out before I got there, but I think I'm close enough now... [BEN places his phone gps at his feet, closes his eyes, and slaps the Omnitrix] [BEN transforms into Stinkfly] BEN: Well, I was hoping for XLR8, but I guess I can work with this? [BEN picks up his phonr and flies off] [when he reaches the epicenter BEN finds, embedded into a large hill, an abandoned lab of some sort.] BEN: ooOh [BEN enters the lab, and shortly times out, becoming human again. He sort of tries to sneak, but is clearly too excited/curious to be very effective] [The lab is full of rusting, inscruitable equiptment. Finally, Ben enters a natural cave turned testing area deep inside the lab, a cavernous room machinery littering the floor. There seems to be a fixation on machinery that we would recognize as Danny's parents' portal, but not embedded into a wall, so like a door attatched to a tube. Spare parts and dissasembled prototypes rest along the edges of the room, and a few assembled peices rest towards one end.] [Ben stands on the far south end of the cave, looking around at all of the strange wiring and such.] BEN: I wonder if this is Plumber tech... [BEN kicks a bundle of cords on the floor, and the sound echoes through the room.] [Then, a stranger sound eminates from somewhere just outside of the cavern. And another, similar, closer sound is accompanied by a visible flash. And then-- in a green streak, DANNY bursts into the air in the cavernous space, and then hits the floor and skids. When he stops, he turns human as he falls unconscious] [BEN has no fucking idea what is going on] BEN: uh...h...HEY. ARE YOU...OKAY? DANNY: ... BEN: HELLO? HELO-O? DP: ya think he's dead? BEN: AUGH!!!! [BEN jumps violently, very surprised by Deadpool's presence, and takes a step back] BEN: Who the heck are you?! DP: Call me Deadpool! [BEN gives him a look of utter disbelief. That is the stupidest superhero name he's ever heard. He's about to say that, but then,] DANNY: [groans] DP: [hops down. Puts a hand out, signalling for Ben to stay] Stay here, kid. [Ben is offended to be belittled even if it's reasonable. He stands with an angry look on his face for a moment before following just a few steps behind deadpool, hand at the ready above his watch.] [DP veeery cautiosly walks over to Danny and then....abruptly switches gears, standing up straight and gently bumping the boy's shoulder with his foot] DP: hey. hey. get up. DANNY: five more minutess.... DP: ...7Your mom made pancakes? [DANNY's eyebrows furrow. He groans again. He props himself up, and rubs his head. He's covered in dirt and some blood. He opens his eyes and his expression is full of exhaustion and dread as he processes his unfamiliar surroundings. He looks up at Deadpool] DANNY: ...........I don't smell any pancakes. [DEADPOOL and DANNY stare at eachother for a moment. DANNY seems to be waiting for something. He suddenly looks at BEN, incredulous] DANNY: So are either of you going to attack me, or are we having a staring contest? BEN: I dunno, are YOU going to attack? [DANNY is so tired. He's had a long day] DANNY: I'd prefer not to, but it tends to happen a lot. DP: Well that's depressing! BEN: Well if none of us are fighting, I have a question. BEN: Where'd you two come from? DANNY: Ghost portal. DP: Time travel. BEN: ... BEN: You're not giving me much to work with, here. [BEN points to DANNY] BEN: Especially you. I get time travel, I can live with that-- DP: Thank god. BEN: --But, "ghost portal?" Like a portal for ghosts? Are you dead?? [DP slowly prods Danny with his foot again. Danny is too busy suddenly realizing that he's in human form to be concerned with that] DANNY: I--uh-- BEN: Was that what was up with the green energy? DANNY: Maybe I just went through the ghost portal, ok? I--where are we? BEN: Somewhere on the outskirts of Bellwood, Nevada. DANNY: Nevada? BEN: Nevada DANNY: Huh. DANNY: And why are you here? BEN: [excited to sound smart] There was some unnatural seismic activity around here, and I came to check it out, see if it was anything nefarious. BEN: [cocky] You know, usual superhero stuff. [Danny is a little shocked. He's never really met another superhero before, who wasn't a clone, or accusing Danny of being evil or something] DANNY: oh. BEN: What? DANNY: You're...you're really a superhero? DP: You're like 12 is that safe? [What is the deal with all these young superheroes but say it funnier] BEN: I'm 16!!! DP: Children trying to be superheroes never works out well, trust me kid. BEN: I'm not a child!! Why do you care, huh? DP: Cause I hang out with a lot of superheroes and the heroism business has never done anyone's mental health ANY favors. [DANNY puts his hed in his hands] DANNY: Ugh, tell me about it. BEN: Ha! You AREN'T a normal kid! DANNY: oops. BEN: What can you do?? Do you have GHOST POWERS? [DANNY bites his lip] DANNY: What about you? Do you have powers? BEN: I can turn into any of hundreds of aliens! DANNY: ...care to show me? [BEN looks at the Omnitrix. It's still timed out] BEN: ...in theory... [Danny raises an eyebrow] [meanwhile, Deadpool loses interest. He starts climbing on stuff, looking at the scattered tech.] BEN: Uhhh...can it wait a minute? I just flew here. DANNY: What?? BEN: [gestures to watch, grinning sheepishly] Alien tech! BEN: I swear I'll show you later. What about you! Show me yours! [Deadpool arches an eyebrow at them in the distance] DANNY: ...I guess, since you already guessed it... BEN: What are you so worried about? Ha, haven't you ever met another superhero before? [Ben was sort of kidding, but...] DANNY: BEN: DANNY: Uh, no. Not really. BEN: ...So do you fight bad guys all on your own? DANNY: Uh, yeah? I'm kinda the only person who can. [Reconsiders, and adds with bitterness] Well, the only one who can and will. [Ben thinks about that for a second. He knows how it feels to think you're the only person who can save the world, but Ben is usually wrong when he assumes that's the case. He doesn't like imagining how he'd feel without all the support he's gotten in his hero-ing career. He's genuinely concerned for Danny.] [Danny notices the concern in Ben's expression. Ben seems to be about to say something, but Danny suddenly feels insecure about being pitied. He finally stands up, brushing himself off] DANNY: But like, I have friends, and plenty of tech they can use to help me out. I'm just the only...I guess I'm the only superpowered person willing to deal with fighting ghosts all the time, okay? Whatever! I've been at it for 2 years, I'm used to it. [Ben then adds something together in his head] BEN: Wait, have you never heard of me? Ben 10? DP: Wow! Humble! BEN: No, seriously! Never? Have you ever seen any aliens? DANNY: Uh, no? BEN: Where are you from? DANNY: Colorado. BEN: I've saved the world, like, several times. [DANNY and DP raise an eyebrow each] BEN: Publicly!! People know about me! I'm a big deal!! This is--You guys aren't from here. I need to take you to the Plumbers, so we can-- [A portal powers up again. DANNY seems to suddenly remember something. He goes stiff] DANNY: Oh no. BEN: What? Is that the Ghost Portal? DANNY: Yeah. And you're about to meet the guy who punched me through it. [DP rejoins them to look at the threat] DP: Oh, now that you two have your shit figured out, I should mention I'm from another universe. BEN: WHAT! You said time travel! DP: Yeah, time travel gone horribly, horribly wrong. BEN: How??? I've time travelled a few times and never seen anyine mess it up that bad. DANNY: Yeah since when does time travel take you to other universes? DP: OH SO WE'RE ALL TIME TRAVEL EXPERTS HERE ARE WE??? I'm not telling you two how to live YOUR lives! DP: How about I start bragging about being a superhero expert! Neither of you even know what an X-man *IS!* BEN: Like from the comics? [DP looks at Ben. He won't say it out loud but his expression says "WHAT THE FUCK DUDE"] [BEN shrugs]

[time to get DISJOINTED!!! Here's 2 comic transcripts]

...[some fighting I havent written yet]...

DP: DANNY WHY IS YOUR GHOST DAD SO HOT?? DANNY: HE'S NOT MY DAD. PLEASE DON'T CALL HIM THAT, IT'S A WHOLE *THING* WITH HIM-- [VLAD beams] VLAD: Now, Daniel, is that any way to speak to your father?? DANNY: SEE?! Now he'll never shut up about it! VLAD: I've had enough of your sass, young man! You're GROUNDED. [VLAD spikes Danny into the ground HARD.] [DP is pissed off now. He reaches for his katanas.] DP: Ok I get the picture.

...[more unwritten fighting]...

VLAD: Well, now that I have your undivided attention-- [DANNY has just been punched into the ground. He's sitting up, now] DANNY: --You can start the evil monologue. Joy. VLAD: Evil is such a reductive word. Don't you ever get tired of being beaten half to death to protect people that couldn't care less if you lived or died? [DANNY stands up, with some difficulty] DANNY: You *would* think having a conscience is exhausting. [VLAD is taking a lazy step towards Danny every few moments] VLAD: ...Have you noticed where we are, Daniel? VLAD: Because it isn't Amity Park. It's not even in the same universe as Amity Park. VLAD: And it's not anywhere your idiot father will ever bother finding, seeing as it has nothing whatsoever to do with ghosts. [VLAD is standing over Danny, now] VLAD: Do you know what that means, my boy? VLAD: Nothing I do here can spoil my reputation. VLAD: And none of your little friends are coming to save you. [VLAD places a hand on Danny's shoulder, gripping too tight] VLAD: So VLAD: I'm going to make you the same offer I made you the night of the reunion VLAD: One. Last. Time. VLAD: Either abandon Jack and let me teach you how to really use your powers, [VLAD summons some ghostly energy between his hand and Danny's shoulder] VLAD: Or force me to make poor, dear Maddie file a missing person's report that will never be resolved.

[wow direct segue into comic!]

..[just a tad more unwritten fighting]...

[Vlad has Ben by the neck very far up in the air, and Ben is frantically pressing his Omnitrix] VLAD: [cackles] Goodness, I think your powers might be even more tempermental than Daniel's! It's a little sad, honestly. I was looking forward to a real challenge for once. DP: [on the ground, a distance away] Superpowers shmuperpowers [cocks gun, and fires a couple of shots at Vlad] [Vlad was watching DP talk, unimpressed. He becomes intangible, clearly no longer interested in Ben, allowing him to plummet to his death] [After becoming tangible again, and without breaking eye contact, in a flash of pink energy, Vlad is right in front of Deadpool, and violently pins him to a wall] DP: AWH, you can teleport?! That's not even fair!! VLAD: [close to Deadpools face, crushing his neck harder] No. It isn't. And that's just how I like it. DP: [choking] [thinking] don't say harder daddy don't say harder daddy don't say harder daddy [cut to Ben falling through the air, desperately, repeatedly smacking the Omnitrix] BEN: PLEASE WORK PLEASE WORK PL-- [Danny swoops in and catches him] BEN: [clinging to Danny, obviously spooked but trying to be cool] Thanks! DANNY: [amused] Don't mention it. [Danny puts Ben down on the ground] BEN: Um..where are your legs? DANNY: Oh, they uh...they just do that sometimes. DANNY: Is something wrong with your watch? BEN: [glares at the Omnitrix] It just does this, sometimes. [Danny sees something coming] DANNY: Well you'd better fix it fast! [Ben looks up just as Danny turns them both intangible, seconds before Deadpool is sent hurtling through them and into the ground] [BEN is grinning, watching his hands as they turn re-tangible] BEN: That is SO COOL! I've only ever gotten to do that to myself! Y'know, as an alien! [DANNY was looking at DP's crater, but turns to BEN, surprised at the genuine enthusiasm] DANNY: [maybe blushing a little?] Uh, thanks! [BEN grins at him, and Danny smiles back. They're cute.] [Deadpool's hand pops out of the crater, waving (flailing)...reassuringly?] DP: Don't worry about me, all he did was break [groans] most of my bones. [Danny grabs Ben and pulls him out of the way before Vlad fires an energy blast at Deadpool] VLAD: Still think you can manage without superpowers? [DP sits up painfully and slowly, and coughs] DP: Ac-- [Vlad hits him with a copious amount of energy blasts for an unnecessarily long time as he slowly lowers to the ground] [When Vlad lands and stops firing, he turns around to face Danny and Ben] VLAD: Where were we, Daniel? [Danny is horrified. He's gripping a fistful of Ben's shirt like his life depends on it, expecting to have to save him a third time. Ben is a bit shaken but still determined, and holds his hand at the ready over the Omnitrix] VLAD: ...That was rhetorical, my boy. I had just asked you a very simple question. VLAD: [turning his gaze to Ben] And I don't want to repeat myself. [Ben is not quite picking up on Vlad's thinly veiled threat. Danny, bug-eyed, follows Vlad's gaze to Ben, and is clearly absolutely terrified to be responsible for the deaths of two people he just met. Danny tightens his grip on Ben's shirt.] DANNY: ...I-- [a gunshot hits Vlad from behind. Vlad is completely shocked] [behind him, DEADPOOL is sitting up in the crater, charred to all hell but somehow still alive. He appears to only have one (barely) functioning arm left, which is holding the smoking gun] DP: I never said I didn't have any superpowers, jackass. [DP narrows his eyes] DP: I just like guns. [DP tries to shoot VLAD a few more times, but VLAD has turned intangible, and flies to a safer distance] Vlads gonna say some shit and run off Im not done yet but hoo boy. Oh man.

[countess-rosegold-blog]

A Fourth One

Pairing: Tony Stark x Reader x Stephen Strange , some implied Surprise Avenger x Reader

Warnings: Fluff, cursing, topic towards the end may not be for everyone

Word Count: 4,287

Notes: This is my first ever IronStrange x Reader fic. I hope you like it and enjoy! GIFs are not mine. If you happen to re-blog, like or comment, thank you! I appreciate you. 

You’ve been looking forward to reading this book for weeks now, but you’ve been stuck on the same page for the past hour.

You’re seated on your favorite chair at the Compound--much like Cobonpue’s bloom ones, only this was larger, fluffier. It’s situated by one of the giant picture windows that faced the lake. It was fair outside, the early morning sun casting a soft glow over everything it touched.

On any given day, this would have been perfect, but you’re grumpy.

“Making plans then changing them last minute. Jerks,” you mutter.

You kick yourself--as you always do during these self reflections--for even agreeing to be in a relationship with Tony No-Time-for-Anybody Stark and Stephen Always-Busy-Protecting-Sanctums Strange.

You didn’t want to be needy, because you weren’t. But these were peaceful times; the nightmare of the end of the world far behind.

You don’t even want to think about it but the memory barges in anyway.

The horror of watching Stephen slowly fade; not a single tear from you because you’re there, too, feeling everything and nothing all at once.

What a cruel place to be at the end of it all, a strange planet. Your heart breaks before you turn to dust; Stephen gone, fear in Tony’s eyes. You find solace that he remains in place despite the cry he lets out. And you try to reach him but you’re falling, so he runs to you.

“I won that bet, love,” you croak.

Tony is wailing. Shouting, begging, pleading ‘no’ over and over.

“It’s the end of the world, and I still love you, with all of--”

And then nothingness.

Your heart hammers in your chest. It’s ironic. You never have nightmares of that dark past, but when they do come, you’re always fully aware--always in a conscious state.

You drop the book. There’s no point in reading it now; your mood is ruined.

A floating small silver ball hovers, a faint violet light scanning you.

“Good morning, Agent Y/L/N. How are you doing today?”

“Urgh. Go away, FRIDAY.”

“Negative. Mr. Stark insists he gets an answer.”

“Mr. Stark can ask me himself.” You leave the comforts of the chair and decide to head out.

“He’s rather busy right now. Though your vitals scan show a spike in heart rate and blood pressure, which alarmed Mr. Stark.”

“I’m still standing, aren’t I?” You make your way to the staircases which no one really uses.

“If I may inquire, where are you headed, Agent Y/L/N?”

“Out.”

“That’s rather vague. Mr. Stark has instructions against letting you out of the Compound. You may want to reconsider.”

“I may want to, but I won’t.”

You glare at the hovering device and slam the door of the staircase access. It’s quite a long way down but you manage to find the exit soon enough.

You emerge from the far end of the building, the side facing away from the lake.

This area is very discreet and almost no one passes by here, which is why you’re surprised to see Carol Danvers making her way to you.

“Care?! You’re here!”

She lights up and you do a quick hug. “Just visiting.” Then she narrows her eyes at you. “Why are you here? As far as I know, I’m the only one who uses this way as an entrance.”

You laugh. “Well this is my quick exit starting today. Hey, would you mind giving me a ride to the city?”

“Y/N, I just got here. My car’s all the way there,” she points to the opposite side of the Compound.

“No. I mean you give me a ride to the city. Pretty please? Time is of the essence!”

“Hey, I’m not a rental!” She exclaims before adding, “What’s going on?” Concern on her face.

“I know! You’re a badass superhero who happens to fly. And… I’m kinda evading Tony. FRIDAY says he has some “instructions” against me leaving the Compound, so I’m gonna do exactly that.”

She scoffs. “What kind of bullshit order is that?”   

“Right?! So what do you say?”

Her expression turns serious, then she sighs. “Y/N if you think I’m just gonna help you defy Stark’s orders…”

She shakes her head before grinning.

“Then you’re absolutely right.”

You squeal in delight. “Yes!”

“Come on, take my hand.” You take it then she wraps your right arm around her waist--having you side by side--before finally taking flight.

You land in a discreet alley. It’s deserted, but you hear music and smell a variety of aromas nearby.

“Wow. That was not my best idea.” You chuckle, still feeling a little dizzy.

“Yeah? That’s why they say be careful what you wish for.” Carol says smirking.

Oh, Carol Susan Jane. How unfair is it that you manage to look glorious in jeans and a plain black top after a flight like that? You try to reorient yourself with the ground. Momentarily you feel bile rise up, but it subsides. 

You follow the scent of promising good food to distract yourself. “God, is that seafood I smell? Please let it be seafood.”

Carol looks incredulous. “Seafood at 8 a.m. Really?”

“What? You the breakfast police?”

“With that choice I think I might be.” She scrunches her face.

Just as you’re about to exit the alley, a round spark materializes before you.

“Wha--” Carol stops in her tracks.

“Damnit!” you mutter just as Stephen emerges from the portal.

This is so uncommon that you take time to process everything. Despite his wizard abilities, Stephen always made sure to travel to New York like a normal person.

“Are you out of your mind?!” He’s not yelling, but the tone of his voice stings. He throws you an accusatory look as the portal behind him closes. He’s clearly mad about something.

“Hey, what’s your problem?” Carol demands.

Stephen turns to her. “Hi, Carol. Now that you’ve asked nicely, let me just say that Tony and I do not appreciate the stunt you pulled just now.” He enunciates his words and offers a sarcastic smile.

Carol is about to argue but you interrupt her. “I asked her to take me here, Stephen.” You glare at him. “What are you doing here, anyway?”

His jaw clenches. “You asked her?”

You raise your eyebrow at him. You stand your ground. You are not repeating yourself.

He looks back and forth between you and Carol and seems to want to say something more, but he doesn’t. He sighs instead and pinches the bridge of his nose.

“Okay, sweetheart. I’m sorry. Please, will you come back with me to the Compound?” He takes a step toward you. It’s only then that you get to take in how he’s wearing a pale blue button down paired with dark jeans. His hair’s quite a mess. A hint of stubble already forming.

You want to give him shit for his tone earlier, but you hold it back. Oh, how you missed him! He touches your left arm and snakes his other hand on your waist, eyes pleading.

You’re about to respond when Carol clears her throat. “I’ll meet you back there, Y/N. See you later.” She goes back further down the alley then she’s gone in a flash.

Turning back to him you say, “Okay.”

He leads you out of the alley and you both stand at the sidewalk.

“We’re not going through?” You wonder. You assumed that since that’s how he came here, you’ll portal your way home.

“No. We’re waiting for Happy.”

Your brow furrows but you don’t say anything. Now that you’re reflecting on it, it makes you think. Did something bad happen? Could there be another threat out there? Your blood runs cold.

“Why is this such a big deal?!” You blurt out.

Stephen is not surprised by your sudden exclamation. “Because. Tony wanted you to stay at home. And you defy him by escaping like a--for the lack of a better term--horny teenager.”

“Excuse me?!” You groan. “First of all, he didn’t want me to stay at home. He ordered me to. I don’t know, is this an era where women are treated as objects again?! And second, we made plans! I thought we were gonna stay in today and laze around like we haven’t done in a while. But what do you do? You both cancel. Tony’s chosen some shit project to tinker with again and you’re off to some-God knows-where location, making shitty excuses as to why you can’t come home. So, I’ve settled to do some random thing to entertain myself with and Carol was there. And wow, somehow that’s enough reason for you to show up.”

You usually have your temper under control, but today is different. Once the dam broke, the words just kept rushing out.

Panic and guilt crosses Stephen’s face. Before he could say anything, a black sedan stops in front of you.

You wordlessly climb at the backseat, Stephen following suit.

“Hi, Y/N, Stephen!” Happy greets cheerily.

“Hi, Happy.” You say back lacking the energy. Stephen offers him the same greeting. Sensing the tension, Happy drives away in silence.

You’re looking out your side’s window when you feel Stephen move closer to you. You choose to ignore him, but he takes your right hand and clasp it.

It’s a while before he speaks.

“Sweetheart, baby, please look at me.” He pleads. But you’re stubborn as hell.

He kisses your hair, smells it like he usually does, then moves his lips over the inside of your ear. “Please, sweetheart. I am sorry,” he whispers. The bastard! Warmth spreads from where he whispers those words to the rest of your body. Knowing full well his effect on you, he kisses down to your neck then to the sweet spot near your shoulder.

You stifle a moan and squeeze his thighs. “Okay, okay! Just…” you finally look at him then motion for him to move away a little. You squeeze his hands.

“I’m sorry, baby.” He says again, this time eye to eye.

“Okay.” You whisper.

There’s an intensity that burns in his gaze and before you know it he’s kissing you. At first it’s tender, but then you hug him and suddenly he’s a wild man, hungry, thirsty.

“God, I’ve missed you.” He says as he catches his breath. You’re not even given the chance to reply because he’s kissing you again, fervor all the same. I missed you too, love.

You feel his hands travel down from your hip to your thigh and it makes you weak--you melt in him. The world around you almost disappears, you’re lost in each other, but Happy clears his throat.

The kiss is broken so suddenly that you feel lightheaded. You look out the window as you’re entering the Compound.

“Thanks, Happy.” You say before you step out of the car, Stephen helping you out.

“You’re always welcome, Y/N.” Then he drives off again.

You’ve just entered the foyer when Tony marches towards you, a stern look on his face.

“What were you thinking!?”

You sigh in frustration. You’ve been through this with Stephen. You’re not stressing about it again.

“You’re overreacting, Tony.”

You walk past him and head for the elevator. He’s there close at your heels. Stephen lagging behind.

“I am certainly not! I told you to stay--”

“No. FRIDAY told me. You couldn’t be bothered, remember?” You didn’t intend to make it sound bitter, but it comes out that way.

You begrudgingly press your floor’s button and lean on the wall. It’s just the three of you in the confined space.

“I--”

The elevator dings as you reach your floor, cutting Tony off, and you stomp out towards your apartment.

“Don’t yell at her, Tony.” You hear Stephen say.

“I’m not!” Tony retorts.

You open your door and get in without bothering to look back at them. You close the door behind you.

You trudge to your bed, feeling exhausted all of a sudden and lie down. You hear Tony and Stephen arguing on the other side but their words are muffled by the barrier.

What a morning, you think. Then the arguing stops.

You hear the door open and someone comes in. Tony, you guess. The bed dips behind you and a whiff of metal, fresh linens, pears, wood, and coconut confirms your suspicion.

“Go away,” you grumble.

You feel him lie down too and move over to you. Then a hand wraps around your waist, warmth flooding your back.

“Sweetheart, baby, I’m sorry. You’re right, I overreacted.” He whispers, voice sincere.

What?! Your boyfriends may be unpredictable as hell, but one thing you know for sure is that Tony almost never yields. Never this easily. Your concern from earlier gnaws at you.

You turn to face him, the sudden movement throwing his back on the bed.

“What’s going on? Is something threatening the world again?” You whisper, not really wanting to hear the answer to that.

Tony’s expression changes to confusion. He brings himself up again to one elbow, matching you. “Baby, there’s no threat. Why would you think that?”

You narrow your eyes at him. It’s easy to catch him in a lie, but there’s nothing on his face that indicates he’s lying.

“You and Stephen are acting like there is a threat out there. He came through a portal! He never does that unless it’s an emergency.”

Tony chuckles, but then he sees the panic in your eyes and he caresses your cheek. “Baby, I assure you, everything’s fine.” He kisses your forehead, traces his lips to your nose, then plants a soft kiss to your lips. He looks at you again. “I’m sorry.”

“You’re sure?”

“I am sure. I promise.” He smiles and your heart is calm again.

The irritation from earlier fades and it’s replaced with a desire to touch him so you do. You let your hands roam and his breath hitches. You smirk, then when you can no longer hold it, kiss him. There’s nothing sweet or innocent about it; you devour him. He kisses back but it’s not the same. There’s no life in it.

You draw back. “What?”

He sighs. Then look past your head, not making eye contact. “Of all people, Carol? Really?”

“Seriously?” You groan, then lie on your back and glare at the ceiling. Stephen didn’t make it an issue--at least not that way--but it’s always a deal with Tony. You look back at him. “She happened to be there, love. Hell, if it was Sam or Rhodey, I’d ask them. I just needed a ride.”

There’s a resigned look on his face. “You couldn’t drive like a normal person?”

You raise your brow at him. “I don’t know, there was this annoying AI ordered by some psycho to trail me. I had to get out, fast.” You attempt to look serious, but fail and laugh instead.

“Psycho, huh?” His voice turns husky. There’s a tingling on your toes. He grabs you closer to him, his hard chest and strong arms blanketing you. He nuzzles your neck and his beard tickles you. You giggle. Something stirs between you and he dips his head and trail kisses further down your neck, eliciting more giggles.

Then the door swings open.

“I knew this was taking longer than necessary.” Stephen walks in, arms crossed.

You try to say something, but you squeal instead because Tony’s not letting up on the kisses.

“Tony, love,” you plead breathless. “Stop it.” You look over his shoulder and see Stephen standing there, unmoving. Help, you mouth at him.

Just punch him, he mouths back, miming a left jab and donning a wicked grin on his face.

Your giggles turns to a boisterous laugh. Tony looks up at you then to Stephen. He frowns and sits up. “Honey, must you ruin this for me? You’ve had your turn.”

Stephen’s grin is wiped from his face and your eyes widen. Tony smirks. “You two never learn, do you?” He looks pointedly at Stephen. “I taste you so easily on her,” he turns to you, “and vice versa.”

“Well I’ve missed him so bad. You know he’s almost never around.” You say defensively.

“Hey!” Stephen protests, betrayed. He walks over to the bed and sits at the edge. “And don’t you give me crap about being unable to control kissing our girl, honey. You’re the one who’s always here with her and you manage to take it for granted every damn time.”

“No, I don’t.” Tony replies, hurt in his eyes.

They stare each other down before Stephen lets out an exasperated sigh. “This is not how we planned for today to go.”

Tony offers him a small smile. “No, it’s not.” He reaches out for Stephen’s hand and they interlace their fingers.

“Does this mean we can stay all day in bed like we intended to?” You whisper.

“Yes, sweetheart. But first we have to show you something,” Stephen says. He stands and Tony hops off the bed. They both look at you expectantly.

“I don’t know, I’m kind of really loving where I am right now.” You dramatically dissolve into the mattress, faking a yawn.

Tony chuckles. “Come now, baby. We’ll have all the time later. I promise. And I mean it this time.”

You sit up abruptly and hop off. “Oooh, I love it when you mean things.” You look at them both. “Let’s go then.”

-- 

Tony brings you to his Invention Lair, as you called it. It’s darker here, more blue and other colored lights from devices aglow than there is natural light.

You rarely come down here, mostly because when Tony tinkers, he’s not really your Tony. You glance at Stephen and you figure he has the same thoughts. He’s regarding the space like you do--feeling more intruding than visiting.

He stops at a dark section and turns to face you. You notice the nervous look he sneaks on Stephen before looking back at you.

“Y/N, baby, I love you. We both love you.”

Whatever he wanted to say, that is not what you expect. “I love you too,” you’re confused and surprised so the reply comes out a faint whisper. “You’re scaring me, what’s going on?”

Tony takes a deep breath, then turns on the light. At the center of the cramped room is a futuristic looking box. It’s hard to tell at first because the whole thing is transparent, but light catches on the soft curved edges, making its outline known. At this angle you see that it’s hollow--a box without a cover.

“Okay I don’t want to sound stupid but… it’s a box.”

Tony grins. “Not quite.” He grabs a small rectangular device from the table nearby and presses something. There’s a whirring sound before the box lights up a soft blue glow. You realize the transparent--is that glass? acrylic?--sides are screens, letters, numbers and icons glowing.

“Wow. That’s..” You try to find the word to describe it but fail. You still can’t figure out what that thing is.

You hear Stephen sniffle behind you and say, “It’s a crib.”

“A crib.” You repeat.

“Yes.” Tony’s voice croaks. As if this day couldn’t get any weirder, you see him teary-eyed. “Honey?” He looks past you at Stephen.

You feel Stephen walk up to you and he takes your hand, cupping your cheek with his other one.

“Sweetheart, baby… we think you’re pregnant.”

You feel your heart skip a beat. What Stephen says doesn’t register immediately because the world stills; you forget to breathe.

“You think I’m what?!” It comes out in a rush. Panic evident.

They both look at you, a weird combination of determination and nervousness in their eyes, but they don’t say anything.

“No” Not denial, just a plain statement. “I’m supposed to know more about that, right?” Uncertainty, a trembling voice.

They exchange a glance. “Sweetheart, you remember how you’ve been crazy about avocado your entire life?” Tony asks, walking close to you. “Then suddenly, last week after I’ve bought you an entire batch of them, you can’t stop retching?”

“I think we agreed that was a bad batch.” Your voice quivers.

Tony smiles a soft smile. “You’ve been having nausea for two weeks now.”

You had, but you always assumed that was all the stress and random food you’ve been eating lately.

“And may I remind you of the heart attack you almost gave Sergeant Barnes when you fainted in the middle of that recon mission in Bogotá last Sunday? He thought you were dying when you had extreme cramps in the quinjet on the way home.” Stephen chimes in. He turns to Tony, “You’d think we’re the drama queens--then there’s Barnes.”

Tony raises his brows at that. “Focus, honey.”

Stephen turns back to you, hope shines in his eyes. “How late are you, baby?”

You’re blindsided by the question because you haven’t thought much about it until now. Oh. Could it really be? God. How late am I? You wrack your brain as you trace the last you remember of your period. Shit. Has it really been two months?

You don’t realize you’re crying until Stephen croons. “Shhh, sweetheart, we’re here. It’s okay.” He wraps you in a hug. Somehow it makes you cry harder.

Is this the moment they write about in songs? One about finding something you thought you’d never find? Could I really deserve this kind of happiness? And just as you ask that, dread washes over.

“Oh, love,” you say to both of them, in between sobs. “I want this so bad. I never thought I’d want it but I do know now. But… what if you’re wrong?” You regret saying it because the fear that grips your heart is unimaginable.

Tony kisses the top of your head. “Then baby, let’s find out.”

--

Your world swirls. Ten weeks. At least that’s what Dr. Varshavski--Stephen’s friend--said. You’ve been carrying a new life for that long.

You’re seated at the doctor’s office. Unlike the hospital halls, Dr. Varshavski’s space is homey. Stephen and Tony has been barraging the young doctor with questions but you’re having a hard time focusing, lost in your thoughts.

I’m going to be a mom. Technically, I am already.

“Sweetheart?” Tony asks, rubbing your back. Your reverie is interrupted.

“What? I’m-I’m so sorry. I was just…” you stammer.

Stephen touches your hand reassuringly. “Baby, did you hear what Viktor said?”

“No, I’m sorry.” Tears fall again before you could stop yourself. “I’m so so so sorry. I should be more responsible than this. And now I’m just a mess.”

Viktor’s eyes are soft, understanding. “It’s okay, Y/N. I was just informing Stephen and Tony that what you have right now is a rare pregnancy.”

You nod. “Rare how?”

“It’s called superfetation. It’s a phenomenon when an already pregnant woman conceives again, leaving the development of two embryos of different ages. In your case, the two are three weeks apart.”

You freeze. Two? I didn’t even think I deserved one and now I got two? The thought scares you to death and warms your heart at the same time.

“That’s…” you start sobbing again but this time you don’t care. “That’s the most beautiful thing I’ve ever heard.”

“It is, isn’t it?” Stephen agrees, tears in his eyes.

It’s an imbroglio, the three of you. Crying and trying to touch as much of each other in the small space.

Another thought occurs to you. “Wait, how do we know whose is it?”

Viktor smiles. “We’ll have to do more tests, but as these two asked me earlier, the superfetation case makes it possible for the two to have different fathers.”

Your eyes widen. You look at Stephen.

“Sweetheart, that’s science working right there. The case is rare, but there have been similar occurrences in the past. Before I came here, I was actually visiting one of those cases.”

“Oh.” You turn to the doctor. “Will.. they be safe?”

“You’ll have to come in for regular check ups, of course. But so long as there are no complications, it’s generally a normal pregnancy.”

You nod wordlessly. Stephen and Tony have a few more questions before you are sent home. The drive back to the Compound is silent, as is the elevator ride to your apartment. You sit on the bed.

“You were busy because of that futuristic crib project of yours.” You regard Tony. He nods.

“And you were away again because of research for… this?” You ask Stephen. He nods.

“That’s why you were both freaking out.” Then the sobbing comes again. “Oh God… *sob* I’ve been giving you… *hiccup* crap about cancelling today and now I’m actually *sobs* the crappy one in all this.”

They huddle over you. “Baby, you’re carrying our kids. You’re more than allowed to be anything you want.” Stephen kisses your hair.

“And you’re stubborn as hell, but never crappy.” Tony teases.

You laugh softly. “It scares me to be this happy.”

“As it does scare us, baby.” They say.

You lie down, feet still dangling at the side of the bed. They do the same, all three of you staring at the ceiling.

“I love you.” It’s always Stephen who says it first; a man who knows the power of time and the things it can take in an instant.

“I love you.” Your turn always comes next; a reply to one and a declaration to the other.

“I love you.” Tony says last; always the one who says it with the most passion, the most meaning--it resonates until the next time you’re together.

Then, for the first time ever, a fourth one. “I love you.” You say again, touching your belly.

[wintersxsoul]

Matching scars (10)

Summary:  “How could someone like you, love someone like me? It makes no fucking sense.“

Pairings: Loki x Reader // Steve Rogers x OFC

Warnings: Nightmares, descriptions of physical abuse, swearing, angst, eventual smut, depression, intrussive thoughts, self-harming, etc.

A/N: I’m such a mess, I forgot about this series. My life is quite a mess right now, so forgive me for my bad memory.

Series masterlist

Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3 - Part 4 - Part 5 - Part 6 - Part 7 - Part 8 - Part 9 

Evan rushed to the bedroom to get dressed, he was fully nude. You brought your hands to your face, trying to hide the embarrassment you were feeling. You were sure your face was crimson and even tears started filling your eyes. You turned to face Loki, who was mortified, looking at you. He lifted an eyebrow, questioning you, because all you did was bite your lip anxiously.

“What are you doing here?” Nice, girl. That’s all you have to say? “I mean, why did you hung the phone?” You sounded so stupid, your voice being barely a whisper, Evan had enough for today. Loki looked angry, like totally angry, vein almost popping and all.

“You-are you out of your mind?” He snapped pinching the bridge of his nose, trying to calm down. “I thought you were in danger, but I can clearly see you were not.” He said gritting his teeth. You didn’t know what to answer, so you just let out the first thing that crossed your mind.

“Loki are you hungry? Because I am. I think we should go get breakfast. What do you think?” You were so anxious you thought you were going to pass out. These things only happen to you. Your inner self rolled her eyes at you. At that exact moment, Evan emerged from the bedroom clothed and with his stuff, ready to leave. He approached you and tried to kiss you on the lips, but you turned your face fast enough that his lips crashed on your cheek instead. He looked at you furrowing his brow and looked at Loki, extending his hand to introduce himself.

“I’m Evan, you must be...” He said smiling waiting for an answer, but only receiving a cold harsh look from Loki. Evan put his hand to his side, and rubbing the back of his neck with his other hand. You threw Loki a glare and he gave Evan the fakest smile you’ve ever seen on anyone.

“I’m Loki.” You really wanted to crawl back to bed and never get out again. You shifted in place awkwardly, and Evan’s eyes lit up.

“So you’re the famous friend Y/N couldn’t stop talking about last night! It’s a pleasure to meet you.” He elbowed Loki in a friendly way and leaned closer to him. “Between us two, I wish she spoke of me like that, you’re so lucky, man.” Before they could interact more, you pushed Evan out the door, waving him goodbye and promising him a call. You pressed your back to the door, closing your eyes and letting out a sigh.

“Soooo, that was weird.” You said, not sure to who. You looked at Loki, who was looking at you slightly pissed. “First of all, I’m so sorry about that. Normally Anne is the one who handles these things but she di-” He cut you off.

“You don’t have to explain yourself. I’ve seen enough.” He was really pissed. The tone on his voice was not too harsh, but it was cold enough for you to know he was mad at you.

You convinced Loki to have breakfast with you, so you went to the Starbucks where you used to work. As you stepped in the shop, you could feel all your bottlelled emotions coming to the surface. You hadn’t been here since Frigga’s death, so it was a lot to take in. You ordered two black coffees and went to sit to your usual spot. You could tell by Loki’s expressions and attitude that he wanted to say or ask something.

“Is everything alright? You seem to be far away from here.” Your eyes met his and he seemed conflicted, like he had a war in his mind. You reached his hand with yours, caressing his knuckles with your thumb.

“It’s fine if you don’t want to speak, but I’m here if you need anything.” You smiled shyly, trying to comfort him. His eyes travelled to your intertwined hands, sighing.

“Do you like Evan?” He asked, his eyes never leaving your hands. “That’s why you didn’t want to kiss me?” wOw.  Your jaw dropped and you tried to puzzle the right words.You let go of his hand, and his eyes instantly darted to yours, pain written all over his features.  You took a deep breath and ran your fingers through your hair.

“Evan has nothing to do with that.” You kept taking deep breaths, trying to calm down. “I got drunk and then I was thinking about you and then he kissed me and it just made sense that you didn’t want to kiss me. You told me I was a good friend.” Your mind was starting to shut down all kind of emotions, avoiding the rejection that you thought you would have to endure.

“You-You were thinking about me while you were with another man?” He asked, eyebrows rising in awe. You never had issues about opening up to your love interests, even when you knew you didn’t stand a chance. Yes, you were very insecure and always feared rejection, but that was the thing, you always expected a negative so when the answers were different, you felt better about opening your heart. With Daisy, your first love, it was easier. You knew the second you landed your eyes on her that she was the one, it was all flowers and hearts, but with Loki? You felt nothing similar to that.

With him it was strange, you had no idea what you were feeling, not sure if it was love or just a simple infatuation. You looked at him, sighed, and answered an honest “Yes”.

After that, you decided to change the topic of your conversation and do small talk while you had a cinnamon roll you ordered to eat.

The way back home was silent, but not uncomfortable, you both seemed to be too immersed in your thoughts. You couldn’t stop thinking about how much you loved being around Loki, how you adored his laugh or the way his eyes softened every time he spoke about something he loved, that was normally Asgard, Frigga or Thor, even though he would never admit the latter. In a month, you cared about him more than yourself, he was always around, trying to make you feel better after a breakdown or sweetly waking you up when you had nightmares. A part of you, deep down, knew that you said yes to staying at the compound because the thought of you away from him hurt. You would never admit to yourself that you had a crush on him before even knowing him, but the feelings were there. You looked to the right, where Loki was walking by your side, and you could not help but smile a little at seeing him so carefree, even relaxed. All that changed once you got in the elevator together. His jaw was tense, his shoulders were tense and all his body was tense. What’s wrong now? Once you were close to your floor, you could even cut the tension in the small cubicle, and you guessed Loki had enough of it because he turned to face you, took a deep breath and approached you like you were prey. You knew what his intentions were, but you couldn’t do that to yourself, as much as you wanted him to kiss you, you knew you had to avoid that kind of pain. You’re not ready to be dumped, not by him. So before he was close enough, you moved to the left and in front of Loki, and in a heartbeat the elevator reached the floor. You rushed outside, running as fast as you could, trying to avoid the embarrassment you were feeling by your own stupid actions. You stormed into your room and closed the door, but you could see someone in it from the corner of your eye. You turned around and Loki was standing in front of you, rage boiling in his eyes.

“What the hell is wrong with you, y/n?” He didn’t move from his spot. “Care to explain this nonsense?” You knew exactly what he was talking about. Your actions didn’t match your words, but all you could answer was something idiotic.

“How did you get in here before me?” Are you stupid? Yes. Loki was furious at you, only a fool wouldn’t see that, and with that question you just made things worse.

“I have magic.” He spat. Your eyes paced the room, trying to avoid his murderous stare. “Now that we got that clear, could you answer my damn question?” You slid down the door to sit, bringing your hands to your face and rubbing your temple with your index fingers. You gained the courage you needed and spoke.

Tag list is OPEN.

@trashpandabarnes @sideeffectsofyou @madamefresa @lilypalmer1987@gravedollie666 @sarahivi @gummiwormsandonedirection @deamstellarus @zeilenkrieg

[isopale]

Here is my entry for @covered-byroses turning 1 writing challenge!

This is my first time writing anything for others to see, and it kinda got away from me... Had to cut it off where i did for now because it juat kept going and going and going..... And next thing i know wow.

Summary: You have a secret you've kept hidden all this time. Until something kills your husband and threatens to expose everything. Just so happens a couple hunters get more than the case they signed up for.

Pairing: none (yet 😘)

Warnings: character death (vaguely/generally discribed)

A quiet normal life was obviously too much to ask for. The past few years had been a lot of running around from place to place, ducking monsters and hunters. Was there nowhere that didn't have some kind of monster in it? How hard was it really?

The monsters never bothered you, they all seemed to know something was off and to stay away. You don't bother them, they don't bother you, simple as that. But some the hunters that came after them were different, these humans that have made it their duty to protect the clueless ones could be dangerous. Some of them have let the jobs get into their heads, and it's changed them. That's why you always left any town they came to, just to be safe.

Angels and demons on the other hand were absolute nightmares. You had spent more than your fair share with them and fighting them. If an angel was in a town, it was drop everything and run before they see you. Demon, leave before a hunter comes since most demons topside were too young go recognize you.

With all the constant moving, you were alone.

Until you met your (murdered) husband. He was a self proclaimed free spirit. Loved to move from place to place and rarely stayed anywhere for more than a few months. You had been hesitant but eventually warmed up to him and before long married, and fell in love. Since he just sooo happened to show up in the same places as you, he was a risk you wanted to take. He was your guilty pleasure, and his death was your fault.

He never knew what hit him. But obviously some demon went looking for the legend not even your dear old dad believed.

After your husband was murdered, you made it your obsession to find and kill it. Someone was talking and it wasn't going to end well.

You had been looking around and discovered that there was apparently a pack of wolves living in town. Small pack, looks to be exclusively family unit. Mother, father, and 2 girls (possibly nearing their 20s) and a teenage boy.

Of course… never a dull moment.

Not too surprising being in the middle of nowhere texas, but in the weeks you had been watching them they only fed on their livestock.

Which makes other murders in town very strange. What ever was responsible made sure to make it look like a werewolf attack.

…

Sam and Dean had been interviewing the investigators and witnesses all day for these “animal attacks”.

“Sounds like a werewolf Sammy,” Dean said opening a beer from the mini fridge.

“Yeah. Where is it hiding though?” Sam mused leaning back in the ratty bedside chair. “No one i touched was bothered by the silver ring today.”

“Good idea of Bobby's by the way. I might have to go check the local talent with it,” Dean said with a smirk lounging on one of the two small beds in the motel room.

“Dude,”

“oh Lighten up Sammy. I was gonna let you go first this time”

“Do whatever you want. I'm going to bed.” Sam rolled his eyes before moving to the other bed, that was a few inches too short for him “Remember we have to talk to the widows tomorrow so try not to have hooker glitter on you this time.”

“That only happened once.”

…

You didn't like to make a habit of being near hunters but you couldn't leave town now. It had only been a few months since you were married and less than a year since you and your husband had known each other. But that didn't make it hurt any less. It had been so long since you had had someone close to you.

You had visited the wolfs farm, this time to talk instead of spy, this morning before work at the small second hand clothes shop downtown. The Hensen's, you should probably remember their name. They were nice and accommodating once convinced you weren't there to harm them. Josh, the husband, wide and sturdy man was willing and ready to end any threat to his family. (Oh those hunters are going to have fun with this one) Amelia, the mother, tall woman towering over you although extremely soft spoken due to then she was turned her throat had very nearly been ripped out leaving a large angry scar. (You wondered if the big one of the two hunters was taller than her) The girls were twins, Anna and Marie, simple small town girls. And the son, Rich, solid country muscle farm boy.

They had been living there for years, long enough to build up that farm and to have the stock numbers to cover their feeding habits. They always sold or gave away what they didn't need. Most of the town thought they ran a home butcher shop and over the years that's what it turned into. But now with the murders and the hunters in town they were all on high alert.

Those hunters were going around town talking to the other 3 widows. Now you could see them through the store window across the street parking that vintage beauty. Both of them were way too sexy to be whatever government agents they were pretending to be. Sex with your husband (the few times it did happen) was great it was meaningful, but he would rather sleep under the stars or not leave the couch unless absolutely necessary to binge on something. But these two hunters made you think sinful thoughts.

Oh if only boys.

Putting on your customer service voice “Good afternoon gentleman. How can I help you?”

“We're federal agents in town working the recent animal attack cases,” the shorter of the two stated as they flash very nice but very fake FBI badges. “We were wondering if there was a (y/n y/l/n) here.”

“That would be me.” not even trying to remember the names on the ids, they wouldn't be real anyway. “Are you going to find out what happened to my husband?”

“Yes ma'am, we are very sorry for your loss,” now it's the taller ones turn “but we were hoping we could ask you a few questions?”

Giving them a sad smile before turning back to arrange new rack of clothes “Sure but i'm the only one here until closing at 6. You can ask here or wait until then.”

The tall one narrowed his eyes slightly. He seemed to want to say something else.

I don't even know what I'm not supposed to know. Normal people don't think werewolf right?

“How 'bout you meet us at the diner down the street when you get off? You can help us out over a quick bite,” he stepped around the small rolling rack of new clothes to make you look at him.

“Sure,” you try your best to hold back fake tears “I'll be there about 15 after.”

…

Too bad you didn't have time to creep on them before the diner, you have to admit they were nice to look at.

They're waiting in a booth in the back, both on one side with backs against the wall to watch everyone else. The tall one with long hair politely waves his hand when you enter. The shorter one has beautiful green eyes, he stands and helps you into the benchseat across from them. The had already ordered you a coffee and a glass of water.

“Thank you for coming Ms (y/l/n),” says the tall one

“How long were you and your husband living here before he was attacked?” Asks the green eyed hunter

“We only came here about a month ago. We didn't plan on staying, we wanted to travel around the country. You know live on the road,” You say not entirely lying “we just pick somewhere to go and get some small jobs around to hold us over for a bit.”

“Wait you don't live here?” Asked the tall one, he was trying to hide his suspicion with empathy.

Hunters…

“No, I'm still staying in the little motel,” you say “I was going to switch rooms but… i couldn't bring myself to…” you say fake holding back tears, you've shed all the tears you needed. Now you want the thing that killed him to suffer.

“We're sorry.” Says the tall one, his features soften and he gives you a look of genuine sympathy. “Why did you stay? Couldn't you have gone back home?”

“Neither of us have any family anywhere, we’re alone.” Now you hold back real tears, suddenly very interested in that coffee.

Taking a sip you realize why it was there before you were. Holy water. It stings some now when it usually doesn't, but you hold your composure. These two aren't playing around, they legitimately think you're the killer.

When green eyes shifts his hands on the table you notice why he helped you into the seat.

Holy water and silver rings, these two are a lot more interesting than i thought.

You sigh and decide to tell them what they want to know… sort of.

“I'm not the one who killed those people or my husband.” you whisper. They glance at each other and some unspoken thing goes between them but before they can feed you more BS you continue. “It wasn't a werewolf either. I know it looks bad but the bodies should have been more tore up, when has a wolf ever ripped out a heart without leaving any other marks?”

“Ma'am werewolves don't exist. We know traumatic experiences like this ca--” the long haired giant begins but green eyes stops him.

“Sam she knows.” He whispers to him “I guess we can cut the act for you then.” He directs to you this time. “What do you know?”

Mmm like to be incharge do ya not-sam.

“I'll tell you what I know but it's not much, and not here. I'm leaving in the morning,” You say “meet me at the butchers farm outside town in an hour.” You get up to leave not waiting for an answer.

…

After the 15 minute walk back to the motel you enter your room. You spare one last glance at the first bed and your heart clenches. You just need to pack the few clothes you have in your backpack and the essentials and be on your way to the farm. You plan on staying with the wolves until the hunters leave and your mind is too preoccupied with things to take and things to leave you didn't notice the rug was moved. Then you bumped the barrier reaching for the moon necklace your husband had given you. You had been so hurt and angry lately you hadn't been careful enough.

“Told you Sammy.” You heard from the doorway

You had not been pissed before but you were now. Hunters, always shoot first and ask questions after. Between angels, demons, and hunters you couldn't catch a break.

“Why'd you do it? Was he even your husband or just some poor sap that happened to be passing through town at the same time?” Sam asked accusingly

“It's not what you think” you say taking a breath to calm down and try and get out of the circle. But green eyes cuts you off.

“Why do you demons think you can just kill whenever you want and we won't find you,” he opens a small leather book “ now were going to save that poor girl you're wearin--”

“I LOVED HIM! LOOK AROUND YOU IDIOT!” So much for calm. You raise your hand and they both are flung against the headboards. You shut your eyes and take another breath.

You feel the darkness fading and with it the circles hold as you step over the barrier, careful to keep your hold on the men before you. You open your eyes to see them staring wide eyed and speechless. Their eyes locked on yours, you know they see the black they are used to but yours also have the familiar blue-white glow as well.

“What are you?” Sam breathes

Striding to the nightstand between the beds you slowly take your necklace before answering “I WILL find out who killed my husband, with or without your help. You have 20 minutes to be at the butchers now and I'll tell you what i know.” You say firmly making your way to the door making sure to walk through the circle again for them to see.

You spare one last look at them. “You know if i was into being on this end of things you two might be in trouble like that”

You release your hold on them as you slip out the door on the last word.

…

Something was different about the boy when you had ran into him that morning before the hunters came to the shop and you were hoping you were wrong.

Even if I'm right I can just fix him when I'm done.

You had been running since you left the motel, you're not going back to that little car you had since someone probably will recognize it again.

“(Y/N)!”

You skid to a stop in front of the Hensen's gate, trying to slow your breathing and heart rate after the 2 mile run.

“(Y/N)!” It must be one of the twins running up the drive yelling for you.

“Please. There's something wrong with Rich.”

Just then you hear the roar of the hunters car coming up the road.

“Get the rest of your family and hide. DO NOT come out until i come get you.” You grab her shoulders and make her look at you “Where is he?”

“He- he's in the barn. Mom is went after him, please don't let them hurt them.” She sobs

You shove her toward the house “GO!” Then tear off to the barn in the light of the hunters impala.

Just before you reach the barn a body is thrown through the doors, you manage to stop it in the air before it smashes into you. It's the mother, you lay her gently at your feet never touching her. It's been so long since you've used your powers it feels good to do it again.

“Don't you touch her!” The green eyed hunter yells gun drawn on you.

You hover your hand over the mother and let the healing white light do its job. Both men stand above you guns at the ready.when When you're done you snap your fingers and send her to her own bed far away from the hunters, still unsure if they will leave this family alone.

…

Dean and I argued the whole way to the farm about (y/n). He thinks it's some kind of demon trick that she got out of the devils trap, that she must have broke the circle before stepping in it. But i saw her run into it, it stopped her from reaching the nightstand when she reached out.

Then her still using her powers on us while trapped shouldn't be possible. And those eyes. Cas’ eyes only glow blue-white in the iris’, and no other angel has black around them. Whatever she is we've never seen anything like her.

'Into being on this end of things…’ more arousing than it should be coming from a possible demon.

'Into being on this end of things…’ more arousing than it should be coming from a possible demon.

Before we could act she snapped away the wife.

“You people are always shoot first and answers later.” She stood us to her full height, barely coming to the middle of my chest before swinging around to face Dean.

“MOVE” she shoves past my brother and i have to hide a laugh

“Wait! We don't know what's in there.” I try to stop her but she's already opening the doors before either of us can stop her.

“Ugh. Just stand still and I do everything. hunters…”

What must be the farmers son is standing in the middle of the loft above us cocky smile and black eyes.

"I didnt think you were real little one"

[gillianfoster]

so this is the first two chapters just in case you hadn’t read the full first one @basinhounds ta da

chapter 1

At 38, Eddie Kaspbrak felt like he had a pretty nice life. He had a nice place in New York, just outside of the city, because living in the city would have stressed him out too much - taking the Subway was like something out of a fucking nightmare. He had his own business - a driving business he’d started himself and built from the ground up. He did well for himself, had the money to travel from time to time if he liked.

The only problem, really, was that he lived alone. 38 years old and completely, slightly miserably, single.

For a long time, Eddie hadn’t had the heart to force his mother to move out of the house she had long ago insisted they share when he finished college. That meant no serious dating, no bringing anyone home. It meant that even though his mother had died a few years back, Eddie had still never had a serious relationship. He wasn’t a complete loss - he’d gone out to bars, he had fooled around a little in college, but that only meant so much.

Now that had his mother had passed away, Eddie was just. Well. Nervous. Dating still didn’t make much sense to him, and it definitely didn’t seem like he’d be any good at it. Once he had downloaded Grindr because he’d overheard one of his other drivers talking about it, but he’d gotten one message, had a panic attack, taken his anti-anxiety medication, and deleted the app again.

Probably no thanks to his overbearing mother, Eddie didn’t actually have any real kind of physical disease. He didn’t have asthma, or AIDS, or anything else his mother had fear-mongered him about for years and years. He just had what his therapist called one of the most severe cases of anxiety I’ve ever seen.

Life with his mother had nearly smothered Eddie, but at some point he hardly remembered now, some part of him had managed to break free. He’d known he was gay for longer than he could remember, in spite of his mother’s awful warnings about what could happen to him - which had probably come out of the fact that she’d known, somewhere deep down. He remembered, vaguely, that when he was young and growing up, she’d forced him to take medication for some unknown illness, some vague inclination that he was sick. Now the only prescription he took was one he’d chosen and had only ever gotten filled on his own. Sometimes, when he woke up from vague and misty nightmares, he got the phantom sensation of holding an inhaler, of the need to take a deep inhale of something that tasted a little like battery acid - but of course that was silly. He’d never had asthma. Only panic attacks. And he couldn’t remember ever using an inhaler - but as he’d established with his therapist, he’d forgotten an unusually large portion of his childhood.

Eddie knew he’d grown up in Maine, because his mother had told him so. There were some pictures of him, presumably taken there, but only pictures of him, alone, dressed up for Halloween or learning to ride a bike. That made sense to him, really, that his mom had kept him away from other kids - that he’d been alone a lot. Frankly, he was surprised sometimes that he hadn’t been homeschooled, but he could remember the last few years of high school, after he and his mother had moved to upstate New York. He’d struggled to make friends there, too.

These were the things he thought about sometimes, getting stuck in traffic on the way to JFK. He always listened to music to fill the silence, but it didn’t always manage to distract him from his thoughts. For better or worse, the long and slow commute to the airport was unavoidable. Step one of getting a particular job was nearly always picking up whoever could afford one of his cars at the airport, fancy name sign in hand and all.

He’d driven real celebrities before, some more exciting than others, but the guy coming in today was someone Eddie had never heard of. A quick google search had established that the guy was a comedian, and his pictures gave Eddie an idea of who to look for, but nothing about him really rang any bells.

Of course, that was what he’d thought looking at his tiny phone screen.

When the guy comes down the escalator, and Eddie’s standing there in a suit, sign in hand, the first bizarre thought that he has is that he feels like the guy should be wearing glasses - but that doesn’t make any sense at all. There hadn’t been any pictures of him with glasses. And there’s nothing wrong with his face - thin nose, big dark eyes, curly hair. Actually, Eddie has to admit he finds him pretty handsome or. Well. Striking. Attractive. But he still feels for some reason like the guy should be wearing glasses. Eddie nudges his own up at the thought. The only thing his mother had ever been right about - constantly taking him to the eye doctor. Her bad vision had been hereditary after all.

The guy finally seems to catch sight of the sign, and he makes eye contact with Eddie and smiles as he walks over. “Guess you’re the lucky driver who’s stuck with me, huh?”

Eddie looks at the sign and then back up at him. “You’re Richie Tozier?”

“That’d be me. And you are?”

His customers don’t usually ask his name. It’s sort of nice. Eddie smiles back and offers his hand. “Eddie Kaspbrak. Nice to meet you.”

“Eddie Kaspbrak,” Richie says, and Eddie finds that his name sounds strange coming out of the other man’s mouth, for no apparent reason. He shakes the thought from his mind, and hopes his weird obsession with this stranger’s lack of glasses goes with it.

“Nice to meet you, too.”

The guy gets weird, of course, as soon as they get to the car. Every celebrity has their quirks, and for whatever reason, Richie Tozier refuses to sit in the back seat.

“I mean it’s gotta be fucking weird, right? I’m just like, a guy, I don’t need to sit in the back like I’m better than you, we can both just sit up front.”

“People really do tend to sit in the back, it’s sort of the point of hiring a car. People sit back there, sometimes we make polite conversation. It’s not that weird, it’s really just... My job.”

“Oh come on. You can’t tell me that it’s not at least a little weird like never making eye contact with whoever you’re talking to except through a mirror. This isn’t Driving Miss Daisy, I’m not an eccentric old rich lady and you’re clearly not Morgan Freeman, my agent set all this up. Just let me sit up front.”

The reference isn’t even that funny, but for some reason Eddie finds himself smiling. He also still has the passing thought that sometimes not having to make eye contact is easier, but it passes quickly with Richie looking back at him. “Wow, timely reference there. Comedian of the year award goes to Richie Tozier.” Eddie then, immediately, realizes he’s been far too snarky to be talking to a client, and he’s about to apologize profusely when Richie bursts out laughing.

“Eddie Spaghetti gets off a good one!”

Eddie makes a face and shakes his head. “What the hell did you just call me? Was that - are you five?”

“Not working for you? We’ll find one.”

“Are you - are you seriously insisting you’re going to give me a nickname? I’m your driver, I’m not - what?”

“Eds, look, I’m gonna be in New York for a while! Got a lot of shows to do, a lot of guest spots to record, an audition for SNL that my agent is insisting I go to - we’ll be seeing a lot of each other.”

“Not that one either.”

Richie grins at him, and for some reason, gently pats him on the cheek. “We’ll get there.”

Eddie sighs and finally reaches to open the front door for Richie, but Richie beats him to it with his ridiculously long arm and Eddie just shakes his head and goes around to the driver’s side. It’s odd having someone up front with him, but not as odd as it could be. There’s something comfortable about Richie - maybe it’s the aura he puts off. It’s not effortless, he’s not cool enough for that - but it’s obvious that part of what makes him funny is that he doesn’t care if he looks weird or like an idiot, or if his references are timely. It’s some kind of confidence that’s miles away from cocky. It makes Eddie feel less like he’s going to make an idiot out of himself - Richie kind of already has made an idiot out of himself, after all, and it’s only made Eddie strangely fond of him.

Eddie gets the car started and puts the address of Richie’s hotel into his GPS, and then they start the hours long commute back into the city. Richie’s all folded up in some way that Eddie can’t fully comprehend without staring, his legs looking too long for the seat, somehow. Eddie’s not a short guy, he had his growth spurt in high school just like most people, but Richie just seems like he’s all limbs.

“How long have we got, then?”

Eddie doesn’t need to check the GPS to know - he’s done this drive enough to estimate based on time of day and traffic. “At least an hour. Sorry. There’s music if you want it, or you’ve always got the option of sitting on your phone and ignoring me - but I’m guessing you sitting up here means you’re not going to take that option.”

In some bizarre sports announcer voice, Richie says “Score one for Team Kaspbrak! Just look at the kid go!”

“How are you a comedian?” Eddie asks, which then makes him wonder if he lost his brain to mouth filter somewhere on the way to the airport.

Eddie can see Richie’s smile out of the corner of his eye, but it’s a strange sort of half-smile. “You want the interview answer or the real answer?”

“Well we’ve got an hour, and you decided to sit up here, Mr. Tozier. It’s not like we’ve got anything better going on.”

Richie makes a face. “Jesus fuck, nobody even called my dad Mr. Tozier, call me Richie before I have to tell my agent to hire a new driver.”

Richie’s obviously joking, and that makes the moment even better. Some part of Eddie wants to keep calling Richie Mr. Tozier just to see him get annoyed, but with a small smile, and a mental note made for later, Eddie just nods.

“Right. Well. Serious answer, then. Ah... Kind of had a fucked up childhood, don’t remember most of it. I assume at some point in there I picked up the whole. Doing voices thing. Probably a desperate cry for attention, you know how it is. In high school I started doing theater and shit, and I got better at it. I ran off to California first chance I got, lived in a shitty apartment, took some improv classes, and eventually I got fucking lucky.”

“Guessing the interview answer doesn’t have that many curse words, then.”

Richie snorts. “Well. I get my fair share of bleeps. I fuck up a lot.”

Eddie glances over, and feels like he should offer up something about himself in exchange. He doesn’t know why he’s having a real conversation like this with a client who’ll leave again soon enough - but Richie did say he’s staying for a bit. “I guess we can just call this car the fucked up childhood club. Two certified members in one place.”

“You too, huh?”

Eddie shrugs. “My mother was a nightmare.”

“Your dad?”

“Died when I was a kid. I don’t remember him. Or much of anything. You said you don’t either?”

Richie shakes his head. “Must be something in the water.”

There’s something about that sentence that makes Eddie wince, but he can’t place what it is, so he tries to shrug it off. “Mm. I don’t know, my therapist seems to imply that it isn’t exactly normal.”

“Eh, what’s a therapist know? Emotional maturity is vastly overrated.”

“Yeah, great, thanks. I’ll start taking my mental health advice from a TV comedian, that seems like a brilliant idea.”

Richie laughs, and Eddie smiles.

“I do have to say, I’m starting to wonder if you’re funnier than I am, Eds.”

“You’ve gotta stop calling me that.”

“Shh, just let it grow on you.”

Eddie makes a disgusted noise, but is still privately a little pleased by both Richie’s compliment and the fact that he’s determined to come up with some kind of special nickname for Eddie. A small part of him wonders if Richie is flirting, but down that path lies both panic and disappointment, so Eddie firmly shuts himself down. The guy is almost certainly straight, and even if he wasn’t, there’s no reason he should be flirting with Eddie.

“What do you do other than drive, Eds?”

Eddie gets so distracted by his own sudden embarrassment that he forgets to tell Richie off for the nickname, because... Well. He doesn’t do much of anything. Sits around his house listening to records, which is apparently becoming cool again. Travels, in theory, but he hasn’t done much of it. He tells himself it’s because he’s afraid to leave the business unattended, but he knows some part of himself is still afraid, at least he’s afraid of going somewhere too far away alone.

“Well. I, uh. Travel. Listen to music.”

“Travel? Ever been out to the west coast?”

“No. You live in LA, right?” It’s a cowardly subject change, but Eddie’s never claimed to be brave.

“Sure do. LAX to JFK, one way ticket.”

Now that’s a surprise. “One way?”

“Well. My agent really wants me to get that part on SNL.”

Richie could be moving to New York. Eddie’s met someone he’s moderately fond of, and that someone might be staying in New York.

“Wow. Well. That certainly is confident.” Eddie pauses, and looks over. For once, it seems like there’s actually some level of anxiety lingering beneath Richie’s expression. “Do you want the part?”

Richie seems to crack a little, and he laughs, but somehow Eddie knows there’s something off about it. “You wanna know the truth, Eds? It’s pretty much the one part I’ve always wanted. It’s the one thing I do remember from growing up - my parents never cared enough to tell me to fuck off and go to bed, so I’d stay up every Saturday night and watch the show. I still remember seeing the first Wayne’s World sketch. I used to idolize Dana Carvey. I’m pretty sure that all had something to do with me getting into all this shit - that’s the interview answer, actually, more or less. So yeah. Yes. I want the part. And I’m scared shitless that I’m not going to get it.”

“You’ll get it,” Eddie says without thinking. Somehow, some part of him knows that it’s the truth. Richie can get the part. He’ll get it. Eddie hasn’t even really heard him be funny yet, but there’s something about him that inspires absolute confidence on Eddie’s part.

“That’s sweet.”

Eddie looks over and sees Richie smiling at him, and he has to look back at the road before he does something stupid. “I’m not just saying it because you’re paying me, I mean it. Just.” I’ve just got a feeling. “There has to be a reason your agent’s so confident, right? Otherwise it’d be dumb to pull a stunt like that. You’ll get it.”

“Are you a fan?”

His brow furrowing, Eddie looks over. “Is there a right answer to that?”

“Well, at this point it’d be a little bit creepy if you were and hadn’t said anything yet.”

“I’d never heard of you in my life, before today. I had to google you. That what you wanted to hear?”

“Wow. Never even heard of me?”

Eddie shakes his head, and Richie pouts at him. “That’s ridiculous, what are you even doing with your face? Look, I think you’re funny now. I just told you I think you can get a part on SNL, what else do you want?”

“You actually believe in me more now that you met me? That’s unprecedented.”

Richie’s self-deprecating joke makes Eddie snort out a laugh, and then Richie laughs, too - at him, a little, but also with him. Eddie doesn’t mind.

“What about you, Eds? What’d you wanna be when you grew up? You always plan on becoming a driver?”

The question is a surprise - Eddie hasn’t really had anyone ask him anything like that, mostly because he hasn’t gotten to know anyone in a while. “Well, I’m not just a driver. I started the company. Kaspbrak isn’t in the name obviously because it’s a little weird and also sort of a mouthful, but I do well enough running things. I like to drive, so I still take jobs, but mostly I organize who gets what clients, that sort of stuff. Make sure special requests get taken care of.”

“Special requests?”

Eddie smiles. He has a feeling Richie’s going to like this part. “Well, we get a lot of wealthy clients, celebrities, people who don’t want to just take a taxi and risk the driver’s recognition. We get a lot of people a lot more famous than you, no offense. And sometimes they have special requests, and part of our business model and what keeps us so successful is that we grant them, within reason. Requests for certain types of cars or things to have stocked in the back.”

“...Please tell me you’re gonna tell me some of the interesting ones.”

“Well, we’ve gotta have something to fill the time, don’t we? So I can start with a couple of the best ones, but after that I’d suggest you just start naming people and I can tell you if the company’s ever driven for them and then tell you if they had any requests.”

Eddie starts by covering Mick Jagger’s request for 100 condoms, Jennifer Lopez’s need for a car upholstered in white fabric, and how Katy Perry had insisted that the driver not speak to her at all. Richie asked about Lady Gaga (who had a penchant for gummi worms), Zach Galifinakis (who was mostly just surprisingly rude about everything), and Charlie Day (who didn’t make any special requests, but sang pretty loudly in the backseat).

By then, they’re actually getting close to Richie’s hotel, which is ridiculous, because it doesn’t even feel like it’s been an hour.

Eddie decides to bring up something else he’s curious about. “Why are you staying in a hotel if you’re planning to stay?”

“Still need to find an apartment, or someone to stay with. If I actually get the part, I’ll start figuring all that out. In the meantime, I feel better just treating the stay as temporary. The last thing I need to do is take any of this for granted.”

Eddie immediately wants to offer his house to Richie which is... Absurd at best. At worst, frankly sort of dangerous, because God knows what Richie’s actually like or what he could be into, or whatever else. Eddie doesn’t know him at all. He’s a total stranger. One good conversation doesn’t make an invitation for a strange man to stay in your house - even if your house is empty, the stranger is sort of gorgeous (that’s a dangerous upgrade, Eddie acknowledges to himself), and the two of you seem to have some kind of instant chemistry.

“Well. If worst comes to worst I could always let you sleep in the car,” Eddie jokes instead, and it earns him another laugh.

Quietly turning off the GPS, Eddie takes the longest possible route through the city to Richie’s hotel. He only feels a little guilty about it. He’s been paid in advance, so it’s not about that - he just wants to spend a little more time with Richie, which is dangerous, and much worse than just trying to get a little more money.

Eddie pulls up in front of a moderately nice hotel. It’s not really that nice, but if Richie might be staying for a while, that makes enough sense.

“Am I driving you for your whole stay, then?” Eddie asks, and Richie blinks those big eyes at him.

“You have somewhere else to be, Eddie Spaghetti?”

“Jesus, don’t call me that.” Richie grins and Eddie sighs at him. “No. I don’t. We can set a time for pickup every day or on particular days, for now, just. Here, what’s your phone number?”

Richie reels off the numbers, and Eddie quickly shoots him a text.

Just call me when you need a ride.

“I’ll keep that in mind, Eds.” There’s an implication in Richie’s voice that Eddie doesn’t know how to deal with, so he swallows down the noise he might have made and then helps Richie with his bags until people come out of the hotel to assist. Eddie nods at Richie, and Richie nods back, and even though it seems inexplicably wrong, Eddie drives away.

---

chapter 2

The next morning, while he’s still having his coffee, Eddie gets a text.

hey can you pick me up like five minutes ago i woke up late and i’ve got a taping today for the daily show

My car isn’t actually magic but I’ll be there as soon as I can

do you seriously leave auto-capitalization on that’s hilarious

It helps when I have clients I’m actually supposed to be professional with instead of ones who text me in lowercase and insist on sitting in the front seat

being professional’s boring. who ever heard of a professional comedian?

wait

Well you’re certainly not one are you?

i’m not even laughing at that i left that wide open for you, i’m really the one responsible for that joke

Sure you are Mr. Tozier

oh my god just bring the car over i’m still fucking asleep. i’m absolutely getting my agent to hire a new driver

Eddie grins into his coffee, but he quickly dresses and makes his way into the city. With the routes and the tricks he knows, the trip is fairly short - there are ways to get anywhere in a hurry if you need to. He texts Richie to let him know he’s there and he gets one back that says: just come up i’m in room 217

After making his way to the second floor, Eddie knocks at the door, and - Well.

Richie pulls the door open, and he’s wearing glasses. They’re old - big, thick frames and even thicker lenses, and they make his eyes even bigger. He’s still got bedhead, and he’s even still wearing sleep clothes, he looks... Well. Eddie just stares at him, because he doesn’t know what else to do, because Richie looks fucking gorgeous, and that’s just terrible for Eddie on multiple fucking levels.

“So it’s possible that I texted you and then fell back asleep like a fucking asshole so I’m inviting you up so you can like. Physically drag me from the building if necessary. But first I’m gonna make a really valiant effort at getting dressed, so. Gonna go in the bathroom and do that, you can sit down wherever.”

Eddie does sit down on the edge of the bed, sort of because he doesn’t entirely trust his legs. “You wear glasses,” he says stupidly.

“Oh. Yeah.” Richie winces, and. Is he blushing a little? “I mean not really anymore these frames are probably from fucking like, 1995 or something, but I take my contacts out at night so. Late at night and early in the morning I do.”

It’s beyond weird that Eddie thought that Richie should wear glasses, and he does. But still - maybe just. They suit him. And they do, in a way. It’s just that Eddie knows that’s not what he thought or meant, and some part of him somehow knew that Richie wore glasses - but that’s exactly the sort of thing Eddie can be very talented at ignoring. So he does.

While Richie’s changing, as he’s ducked into the bathroom while Eddie was freaking out, Eddie looks around the room. It’s already somehow cluttered with Richie’s clothing and luggage - and that doesn’t surprise Eddie in the least, based on Richie’s personality. Richie doesn’t make his bed either, so Eddie’s sitting on a rumpled comforter and - well that’s certainly a dangerous train of thought. He’s sitting here now, and Richie slept here last night in his rumpled sleep clothes, probably with those little glasses marks on either side of his nose from wearing his glasses before bed, and he was probably sprawled over the bed, all warm and - Yeah. Bad. Eddie looks for another distraction.

Deciding that looking too closely at Richie’s things is just going to get creepy, Eddie turns his attention to poking at his phone. It’s such a deliberate distraction that he’s incredibly self-aware of it, over-alert for when Richie will come back out of the bathroom and it’ll be time to head out for his taping.

With the business working the way it does, Eddie doesn’t ever really need to take more than one job at once. Really, he could stop driving entirely and let the rest of his drivers take over, but he likes to stay busy. That means, though, that his only client is Richie, and he suddenly wonders what he’s going to do while Richie is in the taping. He has a passing thought that it would be nice to watch Richie, but there’s no reason he should be invited in. He starts searching around on his phone for things to do, instead, so he’ll be able to entertain himself - maybe he can catch a movie or something.

It probably says something, the fact that Eddie can’t stand to be left alone with his thoughts and with nothing to do for very long at all. That’s another thing he chooses to ignore most of the time.

Richie comes walking out of the bathroom, and he’s fully dressed and his glasses are gone - he’s wearing a blazer and a patterned collared shirt, unbuttoned at the throat, all much nicer than his pyjamas. He looks gorgeous, still, but now he’s attractive in a way that doesn’t even seem touchable. Probably for the best.

“Are you ready to go, then?”

“Shoes,” Richie mumbles, and it turns into a yawn. Eddie glances down and sees him wiggling his socked feet against the carpet. Richie sits down on the bed beside him to put on his shoes, and Eddie isn’t sure how long it’s been since he was this close to another person - especially on a bed.

He decides to crack a joke - or at least try. “You know it’s really not that early.”

“Well, it’s three hours earlier for me, first of all. And second of all, I tend to do shows at night in LA, not in the middle of the goddamn day.”

“Pretty grumpy when you don’t get your sleep, huh?”

Richie cracks a smile at that again. “What can I say? Need my beauty sleep, Eddie Spaghetti. Not all of us are as naturally lucky as you.”

Eddie has to fight down a blush at that one - what a hell of a line. He snorts, and looks away. “Now you’re just being ridiculous. Put your shoes on.” Standing up, he looks at his phone one last time before putting it away. “Didn’t you say you were already late?”

Once he’s done getting his shoes on, Richie stands up, shoves his hands in his pockets, and shrugs. “May as well go all in, right? I mean, at this point.”

“I’m pretty sure that’s not exactly how that works, but then again I guess I’m not a publicist or an agent - I’m just your driver.” He goes for the door and pulls it open. “Ready now?”

“As I’ll ever be.” He walks through the door as Eddie holds it open, and he’s a little surprised, there, that Richie isn’t weird about that door, too.

As soon as they get down the car, Richie practically leaps to open his own door and get into the front seat - Eddie had wondered if it might have been a one off, but apparently not. Apparently he’s going to just keep driving with Richie in his passenger seat. He doesn’t want to admit to himself that he’s glad, but he smiles a little as he gets in on the driver’s side and sets things up to get Richie to his taping as quickly as possible.

Eddie’s seen The Daily Show before, but he doesn’t watch it religiously - he’s not entirely sure either, why Richie’s been asked on, but he assumes they generally have guest comedians or something, and that’s what Richie will be doing. He knows he could ask, but he still can’t stop thinking about Richie in his glasses and pyjamas, so he doesn’t exactly trust himself to open his mouth.

“You’re quiet this morning, Eddie Spaghetti.”

“Oh don’t start that again,” Eddie groans, and Richie laughs a little. It’s hard to try and keep a straight face - it’s possible that a hint of a smile sneaks onto the corners of Eddie’s mouth, but he’d never admit it. “Anyways I’m just focusing on driving, we’re in a hurry. You can put the music on if you want, since you’re up here with access. Not sure if it’ll be to your taste, though.”

Richie shrugs, seemingly appeased, and messes around with Eddie’s ipod for a second before he hits play, and the sounds of Simple Minds’ “Don’t You (Forget About Me)” fill the car.

With a grin, Richie turns to look at Eddie. “Breakfast Club, huh?”

Eddie can’t stop himself from smiling back that time, but he sighs and shakes his head. “First of all, it’s a good movie. Second of all, it’s a good song. Do you want to try and argue with that?”

“Me? No, of course not. John Bender was my hero in high school.”

“God, of course he was.”

“What about you?” Richie presses. “You’re a little like - well. You know, I was gonna say that nerdy kid, but honestly you’re so high-strung sometimes you remind me of Molly Ringwald.”

Eddie frowns and opens his mouth for a moment without even being able to find his words. “Are you - did you really just compare me to Claire Standish? First of all, I am not that high-strung-”

“You flipped shit when I wanted to sit in the back seat and you know it. I can tell, you spend your whole life stressed out.”

“You don’t even know me that well!” The fact is that Richie’s words sting a little because they’re probably true - but also because Richie puts Eddie at ease, and if Richie thinks he’s high-strung now, god knows what he would have thought if he’d ever seen Eddie outside of this week. “Also, you wish you were John Bender, the only thing you have in common is that you both make stupid jokes.”

“Of course, I can only aspire to that level of greatness. I’m clearly never winning you over, Eds.”

And was that - was that an actual reference to him trying to get with Eddie? Well. It was a stupid joke, obviously, because of the song, and the movie. “Mm, well, I can’t exactly put on lipstick with my cleavage anyways,” Eddie murmurs, and Richie laughs out loud again. Eddie counts himself fortunate that comebacks like that almost seem to be second nature to him around Richie.

All their joking around has gotten them to the studio, and Eddie stops the car at a side entrance. “Alright. I can be back to pick you up-”

“You’re not gonna stay?”

Richie seems genuine, and Eddie blinks at him. “Well. I can. I don’t have any other jobs, I just thought-”

“Don’t be silly, then, come in. I’ll get you a seat and it’ll be over before you know it. Then we can go out and celebrate or something.”

“Celebrate your first taping?”

“Why not? Come on.”

Eddie gets out and follows Richie into the studio. Once they realize Richie’s finally there, he’s yanked off, and Eddie is led out to the audience, and apparently taping of the parts that aren’t Richie have already started, so it’s only once there’s a break in the show that he gets to sit down and take it all in. Seeing celebrities in person that he’s actually familiar with never gets any less strange for Eddie - you’d think that it would with time, but it’s still always just as strange to realize they’re real and tangible. Particularly in this case, watching The Daily Show film means Jon Stewart is right there, and if Eddie were to abandon all sense of propriety, he could just sort of leap down and - well, do anything really.

It’s then he realizes that he’s in as some sort of plus one for Richie - did the people that work in production think they’re together? Are they speculating? Eddie doesn’t know enough about how any of this works - he’s normally just a head in the front seat, getting to people where they need to go. This entire thing happening with Richie - it’s unprecedented in more ways than Eddie can really count.

Eddie misses a pretty solid portion of the show freaking out like that, but once he’s got his shit together, he still catches a few segments of current events and Jon cracking jokes before they bring Richie out.

There’s some kind of story, this particular week, about how there was a picture in a magazine with a little boy with his toenails painted pink, and apparently everyone lost their shit about it. Eddie tries to avoid the news, because it’s awful for his anxiety, so he hadn’t heard much of anything before now. He laughs at some of the jokes, but he still finds that ultimately he’s a little sad.

It’s a nice relief when Richie’s introduced and walks out, waving at the audience. Apparently this is something promotional for Richie’s upcoming standup special or something.

Jon clearly has questions prepared, and he starts to say something, but Richie cuts him off.

“Jon, can I just, say something about this whole nail polish thing?”

“Why not? Fire away.”

“Well I do think you should know better than to give me free reign, but sure. I just wanted to say, I absolutely used to paint my nails in high school - now given, I would paint them black, because I thought I was cool, and clearly I’ve turned out fine. Fine as ever, in fact.” Some woman in the audience whistles, and Richie winks.

“I’m not sure you should be winking at the audience, Richie - especially not that woman who looks like she may be a schoolteacher.”

“Right, well I’ll try to keep all winks directed at members of your audience I know personally, then.” Richie looks right at Eddie then, and winks, and Eddie knows that he’s blushing, and he’s glad that Jon says something so Richie looks back at him instead of Eddie.

Jon does steer him onto the standup special, but before Eddie can really process what’s happening, suddenly they’re talking about the misconceptions about foot size and penis size, and it’s all Eddie can do not to hide his face in his hands. Instead, he just puts one hand over his eyes and laughs, realizing that for some reason, Richie never really surprises him completely - everything seems familiar, seems to line up with Eddie’s precise expectations, but only in the most absurd ways.

After all of that mess, the interview seems to be over. Richie walks offstage, and Eddie very safely zones out for the rest of the taping until he can leave and find Richie. Instead, Richie finds him, tapping him on the shoulder before steering him back out of the studio.

“What did you think?” he asks with a grin.

Eddie sighs. “I think you’re ridiculous, but that’s not really a change. Do you still not have another show today?”

“No, my dear Eds, and I still think we should celebrate.” He slings an arm over Eddie’s shoulder, while they’re still outside the car.

“Do you have an early call tomorrow?”

“Nope. Stand up show tomorrow night at 8, call’s not until late afternoon. Does that get your permission? Can we go to a bar? Do you know anywhere?”

Eddie knows plenty of places, but they’re nearly all gay bars. “Well. I know a few places. I don’t know if you’d like them.”

“I have no preferences whatsoever, so now I insist we go to one of your places. Carry on, my good fellow!”

“Your British accent is terrible, please take it off before you get in my car.”

Richie grins and gestures like he’s zipping his lips before he gets in - Eddie knows better than to think that he’ll actually shut up, but he still gets into the car with only another roll of his eyes.

The least conspicuous place Eddie can think of is a bar he knows that also does karaoke - it’s still technically gay-friendly, and mostly gay clientele, and that’s why he goes, but he also knows some people do just go there for the karaoke, so he might get away with it. It’s early evening still, too - or it will be by the time they get there.

“You realize I can’t drink with you if I’m driving, don’t you?”

Richie turns to him with a mildly horrified expression, and Eddie just smiles.

“Well for fuck’s sake, Eds, that’s not gonna work at all. Let’s take the car back to the hotel, we’ll take a cab from there - there’s no way we’re doing that.”

Cabs aren’t really his competition, because people hire him because they don’t want to take cabs - but he doesn’t normally take them himself. It’s sort of funny to think about - but if that’s what Richie wants to do, it seems logical for once, and he doesn’t exactly mind.

“Don’t call me Eds. But fine. I need food at some point, though. You probably do, too. Let’s stop by a restaurant on the way.”

“If I’m taking the night off, can we do pizza?”

Once they’ve dropped the car at the hotel and gotten it parked under Richie’s name, they take a cab and find a cheap by-the-slice place just a few blocks from the bar. He left his blazer in the car at the hotel, and Richie had run up to his room, leaving them both in just button-downs and trousers. Eddie rolls up his sleeves to feel a little less like he’s in his work clothes, and Richie follows suit.

They eat cheap, delicious pizza, and Richie nearly makes him snort his drink out through his nose with a stupid joke about the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles being named mostly after gay artists, and then they walk to the bar.

It’s only after they get seated and order their first drinks - a gin and tonic for Eddie, a beer for Richie - that Eddie realizes just how strange the situation is.

“Don’t you have any other friends in the city? Why are you out drinking with me?”

Richie shrugs, and gives Eddie something close to a smile. “If I knew anyone, my whole needing a place to stay problem would be fucking solved, wouldn’t it? I mean, there’s some other comedians in the city, that sort of thing, but you tell people you barely know ‘Oh sure look me up when you’re in the city!’ and you don’t mean it. I mean, I might would, but people don’t, generally. And if you subtract those people, the people I know in New York dwindles down to a solid zero. Plus, I don’t actually like any of them that much. I like you, Eddie Spaghetti.”

Richie clearly doesn’t have any issue speaking his mind, which is nice, to know that he’s honest, but that also means that his very genuine compliments keep catching Eddie off-guard, and since Eddie’s barely gotten any compliments in his life, let alone ones like that from gorgeous men, they keep making him blush - or nearly blush. He’s trying to stop it. He’s not sure it’s working.

“Well. I like you, too, for what it’s worth. You know, excepting all the annoying bad jokes and nicknames.”

“But Eds, that’s all I’ve got,” Richie says back, clearly pretending to be hurt in spite of his grin.

“Oh, true. Well. You know.”

Richie gives in and laughs, and Eddie laughs with him, and they clink their glasses together playfully before they both drink.

They’re a couple of drinks in, and both pleasantly buzzed, when Eddie catches Richie really looking around.

Eddie has a terrible feeling he’s caught.

Richie looks at the bartenders in tight shirts, who are men, and the couples in the other booths, who are men, and the guys seemingly on their way to hooking up in the corner (of course, tonight, of all nights), and he looks at Eddie with a surprised, and possibly delighted expression on his face.

“Edward Kaspbrak, did you bring me to a gay bar?”

“Okay, first of all, never call me that again, that’s so much worse than the terrible nicknames. Second of all, I, ah. I told you that you might not like it.”

“Are you kidding? I’m a little impressed. I didn’t think you had it in ya. You come here often, then?” Richie says, overtly flirtatious, and Eddie sighs.

“Save your cliché pickup lines for someone else, Richie. But, literally, yes I come here fairly often. They have karaoke and it’s nice and fairly casual, and it’s not like a club, it’s more like a bar. So. Yes.”

He watches Richie give him and then the bar an appraising look. “It’s nice. Not really like the places out in LA, those tend to get a lot more rowdy - this is nice. You’re right.”

“So you... go to gay bars often?”

Richie shrugs. “From time to time.” Then, he smirks a little. “You know, you can just ask. It’s 2014, and we’re in a gay bar. It’s not the 80s anymore.”

“Fine. Are you....?” Eddie doesn’t finish, because he’s still not sure what to ask.

“I’m bisexual. You?”

“I’m gay.”

“Nice to meet you.”

Eddie snorts. “God, that was terrible. Do you always go for just blatant dad jokes?”

“Only if I think they’ll land.” Richie winks at him again, and Eddie takes a drink, because he doesn’t know how else he’s going to make it through the night.

They sit there, drinking and chatting, until it’s actually time for karaoke to start - and Eddie’s just drunk enough that it seems like a great idea. He goes to sign up, and he drags Richie with him, by the wrist.

Richie’s wrist is thin enough that Eddie can nearly wrap his hand around it, and he can definitely feel the points of Richie’s bones, but his skin is warm, too, and soft, and Eddie really doesn’t want to let go. He signs his name on the sheet with his right hand while he’s still holding Richie’s wrist with his left.

He signs up to sing George Michael, because he can be as gay as he wants here, and Richie knows and he doesn’t care, and also maybe a little because he’s drunk.

He finally has to let go so Richie can sign up, too, and he uses his hands to hide the song from Eddie, and Eddie just giggles a little, excited to see Richie up onstage - excited to watch him perform, to hear his voice.

They spend the time before they get called up having another drink - and then someone sings Whitney Houston’s “I Wanna Dance With Somebody” and Richie pulls him out onto the dance floor. Richie’s got Eddie’s hands in both of his, and mostly he just tugs him around the dance floor to the beat - save one very dramatic twirl at one point, that leaves Eddie dizzy and falling back into Richie, hands landing on his chest as he laughs.

Eddie’s still a little dizzy when they call him up to the stage, but he pushes Richie off and shoos him towards the seats and goes up to sing. He picked George Michael’s “Faith” specifically, because he watched the video every time they played it on MTV when he was young, and he’s known the words by heart ever since. Plus, it would be ridiculous if he tried to pretend he didn’t know that the song could be kind of sexy, or that he hadn’t picked it with that and the fact that Richie would be watching in mind.

He may not have a guitar, and he may not have the outfit (with him at least, but he definitely wore it as a costume once in high school), but he can’t keep himself from dancing at least a little as he sings. He takes the opportunity to run a hand across his chest as he sings “Well I guess it would be nice, if I could touch your body, I know not everybody, has got a body like you,” and he hears a whistle. It was clearly Richie, so Eddie uses his courage, mostly liquid, to wink back at him. He shakes his hips throughout the song, and he’s grinning and a little out of breath when he comes off the stage.

Richie gets called up next, so they only pass each other as Eddie walks back towards the booth, but Richie just looks at him, his eyes dark and lingering, and Eddie bites his lip and fights a shiver as he sits down.

The song may have been a secret up until that point, but as soon as the music starts, Eddie recognizes it - Eddie Money’s “Take Me Home Tonight.” It’s incredibly blatantly sexual, well beyond Eddie’s choice, and Eddie blushes a little - but he also hopes it can be mistaken for the flush of alcohol, because God, he’s a grown man.

When Richie actually starts to sing, Eddie is captivated. His voice is raspy, probably from smoking in high school or something, because he seems the type. The lyrics, in Richie’s voice, are even worse than Eddie remembers. “I feel a hunger, it’s a hunger that tries to keep a man awake at night.” He’s a hell of a performer - dramatically gesturing and doing ridiculous expressions, using the microphone as a prop as much as he’s actually using it - but he keeps his eyes on Eddie’s the entire time. Eddie can’t look away either.

Around the second chorus, Eddie realizes the joke of the song, and he laughs a little, and Richie grins to watch him. The joke doesn’t take away the fact that Richie is fucking breathtaking on a stage - but Eddie tries to let it distract him just so he doesn’t pull Richie into the booth and kiss him as soon as he gets back, because he still has to drive Richie for at least the next couple of weeks that he was paid for in advance, and having sex with him right now would be a terrible idea. Right? Right.

Richie finally wraps up the song and jumps down off the stage, heading for Eddie.

“What’d you think, Eddie Spaghetti?”

“I think I’m still not drunk enough to let you get away with calling me that. And, ha ha, I get it, I’m your driver so most nights I am literally taking you home.”

Richie winks at him. “Knew you’d catch on. I saw you laugh on stage, though, you can’t fool me with your fake laughter.”

“You can’t prove anything.”

With a laugh, Richie slides into the booth and puts his arm around Eddie. They order more drinks, both buzzing with adrenaline from going up on stage, Richie even more than Eddie, clearly.

By the time they’re winding down, they’ve even done a couple of shots, and Eddie is well and truly wasted. He’s leaning into Richie and giggling at something he said when the announcer makes the last call for karaoke sign ups.

Richie suddenly shifts, alert, and Eddie has to try and hold his own weight so he doesn’t fall into Richie’s lap.

“What, what is it?” he asks.

“I have an idea,” Richie says urgently. “Do you trust me?”

Eddie smiles at him, and with absolute drunken sincerity, he says, “Of course.”

Richie pulls Eddie by the hand to the sign up, and puts their names in for a duet. They’re called up almost immediately, because the night is slowing down, and it’s only then that Eddie finds out the song they’re singing - “Total Eclipse of the Heart.”

Eddie gets pulled up onto the stage, and he and Richie both get mics, and they don’t even discuss their parts before the song starts - with Richie being the obvious natural performer, Eddie takes the backup on the verses, and Richie grins at him like that’s what he intended the whole time.

It’s almost too much to take, having Richie performing at him within arm’s length - especially since as Richie sings “And then I see the look in your eyes,” he turns to Eddie and caresses his cheek, gently. When the chorus comes along, Eddie takes the opportunity to sing with Richie, and to get as into the performance of it as he does. They’re both belting the words, gesturing dramatically, and Eddie starts taking chances to flirt with Richie, too. He reaches out to grab Richie’s shirt at “Holding on, forever,” and when they get to “I really need you tonight,” Eddie reaches over and uses his hand on Richie’s face to turn him, so they’re singing while looking into each other’s eyes on “Forever’s gonna start tonight, forever’s gonna start tonight.”

The whole song is both of them pulling sight gags based on the lyrics, with Richie doing dramatic turns toward or away from Eddie, and Eddie using the chorus to prove that he and Richie perform extremely well together - which surprises Eddie as much as anyone, frankly.

When the song is over, everyone that’s left in the bar starts clapping, and even the bartender give them a whistle. Richie takes a dramatic bow, and holds Eddie’s hand so Eddie goes down with him.

The bartender gives them both a free drink for the song, but once they’ve finished that, Eddie knows he’s reached his limit - and it’s getting pretty late anyways.

“C’mon, let’s go. Let’s take a cab back,” he says to Richie.

“You know, Eds, you had a lot more to drink that I thought you would. You should stay with me tonight.”

“Trying to take me home tonight, hmm Tozier?”

“Pretty funny how that turned out, isn’t it? Come on, Eds.”

Richie helps Eddie out of the bar and calls the cab - a little better off because he was drinking beer some of the time when Eddie was drinking liquor, even if he actually had more to drink than Eddie.

They get into the cab and Eddie leans against Richie all the way back to his hotel. They make it out and up to his room, and Eddie fully manages to walk on his own and not fall over or make an idiot of himself. Even though he’s very drunk, he knows himself enough to know he’s not  at risk of being sick - he will absolutely be hungover in the morning, but that’s a problem for tomorrow.

When they are in Richie’s room, Eddie falls gratefully onto the bed before he considers the full implications of that.

“Are we gonna share the bed?” he asks.

“It’s big enough for two, right? Unless you wanna call the front desk at four AM.”

“Nope, nope, I’m good. This is good. Fine.”

He’s mumbling, really, into the pillows. He’s still fully dressed. Richie comes out of the bathroom in his pajamas, and his glasses, and Eddie sees him and just stares again.

“You wanna borrow some clothes?” Richie asks.

Eddie nods, and hauls himself up and to the bathroom. He changes into an oversized shirt and a pair of sweatpants, and they smell like Richie. They’re soft, too, the perfect pajamas to still be drunk in, and Eddie hums happily as he goes back out and falls into bed again, this time next to Richie.

“Tonight was amazing,” he says out loud, turning his head to look at Richie. “You were amazing. We were amazing.”

“Yeah, we were, Eds.” Richie reaches out and squeezes his hand, and Eddie squeezes back.

After a moment, he feels gentle hands on his face, removing his glasses to set them aside, and he smiles gratefully at Richie. “Thanks. And... thanks for.... this.” Eddie gestures his hand around, trying to illustrate what he means, but he feels like as drunk as he is it just sort of comes out as a very flamboyant wrist twirl. “I haven’t had this much fun in... years, Rich.” Eddie isn’t sure where the nickname came from - it just rolled off his tongue like an instinct or a muscle memory, but it makes Richie smile.

“I’m glad.”

Their voices are both soft, and it’s only shortly after that when Eddie drifts off into sleep, the way eased by the fact that he fortunately got drunk enough to be sleepy. He falls asleep still thinking of Richie’s smile, of his glasses and his eyes in the dim light of the room.

[robin-g-house-blog]

Tales of the past Prt. 5

Robin had just found out from Jane that Mr. House had hired a new chef after  firing the last one once he found out they were drinking on the job.

She watched from the cameras as Mr. House and the new cook walked along the hallway towards the elevator.

Robin couldn’t see the stranger well but she could see her brother talking to them. The audio was out so she had to pay real close attention to the movements of her brothers lips to make out what they were saying.

She could make out a few sentences.

“Make sure she gets the recommended serving of fruits and vegetables”.

“She is not to have any dessert after nine, sweets before bed cause her to have nightmares”.

And finally.

“You are not to enter her room, prep the food and leave it on the cart next to the counter, the securitrons shall take care of the rest”.

The figure next to Mr. House nodded their head in agreement. Robin watched as the two went their separate ways. The chef of course made their way to the kitchen.

Suddenly,  the clock chimed 12:00 p.m. . It was time for lunch. A Mr. Handy entered the room.

“ Good afternoon Ms. House. It’s lunchtime have you decided what you would like to eat today”? It asked in its charming British tone.

Robin pondered for a moment wondering what she wanted before deciding.

“Tell the chef to surprise me”. Robin said. She wanted to see what the new employee was capable of.

“Right away ma’am”. Mr. Handy said in a cheery tone before speeding out of the room.

Robin went back to her computer and flipped it to the kitchen camera.

She could see the Mr. Handy approach the chef. It was still hard to make out the strangers features even more so as they began to move around.

Robin grew frustrated at this. Who was this person and why did they keep outside of Robin’s sight? Did they know she was watching them? No that was silly, but as to mock her the figure began moving a bit faster as they began moving around the kitchen gathering ingredients and even with those the stranger seemed to purposely keep the items out of Robin’s sight as though saying “It’s a surprise”.

The chef quickly looked at the camera before wagging their finger at it. Okay now Robin was freaked out. This person was clearly paranormal. 

Robin covered herself in a blanket shivering. This person was strange and clearly had some sort of freaky super powers. Robin was deterred to look up in fear of seeing the figure stand in front of the camera with some twisted up face.  

Reluctantly Robin finally uncovered herself from the blanket and looked at the monitor. What she saw next could only be described as breathtaking.

The movements of the chef’s arms and hands were fluent as they cut up vegetables and sprinkled in spices. They moved across the kitchen gracefully moving from the counter to the fridge and across the shelves then finally to the stove. Robin watched in awe as flames briefly shot out from the pan. The chef started platting the food like an artist painting on an isle.

Once they were done they placed the food on the cart as Mr. House instructed. What the chef didn’t do was wait on the robots. They grabbed the cart and made their way through the hallway.

Robin sat stunned. Watching the chef continue to move throughout the complex.

“This person is either crazy or brave” Robin thought to herself though the possibility of the chef being both ran through Robin’s thoughts.

A sudden knock at the door caused Robin to jump. It was the chef.

“Hello Ms. Robin I have your lunch ready, may I come in”? The chef asked. The voice was female and from the way she spoke she was foreign.

Robin stumbled not knowing what to do. If she let the chef in who knows what she would do worse yet they’d both be in trouble with Mr. House.

Before Robin could say anything the chef had let herself in. Robin starred in complete awe the stranger had managed to hack into one of the most advanced locks in the Lucky 38. Robin watched as the stranger stepped into the room.

The chef was of African origin. She was tall and lengthy only a few centimeters shorter than Mr. House. Her black hair looked as smooth as silk. She wore denim jeans,  a grey tank top,and of course being a chef she also wore an apron, on her head was a white and purple baseball cap.

But what caught Robin’s attention the most were the chef’s eyes. At first Robin thought they were copper but as the chef moved closer she saw that they were not copper they were orange.

Soon the chef was only a foot away from Robin.

Robin shrunk back in her chair shacking. The other woman looked intimidating and moved like a lioness stalking her prey. The chef was now right in front of her.

“Mr. Robin did you here me? I have your lunch”. The chef said in a voice sounding more concern than harsh and authoritive.

Robin slowly stopped her shacking.

“Yes....Th....Thank you”. She stuttered.

The two women stood quietly before the chef spoke up.

“Are you alright Ms. Robin”? Chef asked.

“ Um yeah  its just that you just surprised me that’s all”. Robin responded

The chef gave a slight bow in apology.

“ I truly apologize Ms. Robin, I knew you were expecting one of the robots to deliver your lunch but I wanted to get to know my employer better thought you could use some human company today.” Chef said

Robin found that very thoughtful. The chef was risking her job just to give Robin some company.

“Thank you so very much Ms...”. Robin trailed off she didn’t even know the chef’s name.

“Renee, just Renee”. The Chef responded.

The two soon found themselves sitting down at the table talking with each other. Robin learned that Renee was born in a small village outside of Tanzania and that the reason Renee’s eyes were orange was do to her playing to close to a toxic waste site when she was young.

“ Things had gotten real bad in the village by then, the U.N. had to be called in and they thought it best to remove the children and elderly to Tanzania. I was about to be loaded up into the van heading for the orphanage when suddenly this man with black round glasses who looked to be Japanese called out saying he had found me a foster family in Kanazawa Japan.“

Robin continued listening to Renee’s story fascinated by her stories of being raised in a samurai village then travelling the world once she turned 18.

“Wow, Renee you did a lot and sorry about your mom”. Robin said.

“Its okay at least I got to know her, I’m sorry for you Robin you didn’t even get the chance to know yours”. Renee said.

Renee looked down at her tea a small ripple tearing through it.

“Your brother is back. I don’t think he’s going to be to pleased when he sees that I have broken my contract”. Renee said.

Robin gave a firm look, Renee had been the first friend she had made inside the Lucky 38 and she wasn’t going to let Mr. House fire Renee because of her caring nature.

“I’ll handle him”. Robin said bravely.

Renee stood by Robin’s side as they stood in front of the elevator.

“If you manage this miracle Robin I will reveal to you my closest guarded cooking secrets as gratitude”. Renee said.

Just then the elevator doors dinged.

(One week later)

Robin sorted through her books when she heard a knock at the door.

“Come in”. Robin said

“So Ms. House are you ready to know how to properly cook an egg”?

[raventons]

99 q/a for 2017

1.    What’s the toughest decision you made today? To get out of bed after a 3 hour nap.

2.    What’s the toughest decision you made this year? I would say turning around at the airport, not going to Moscow, deciding my mental health is more important than that trip. However, I was just following my fear, which is quite an easy feeling to follow. And I have not once found myself second guessing that call. I am not one to dwell too much on decisions like that. I honestly contemplate more about what I’m having for dinner, or what underwear to buy – and I always end up regretting or celebrating those decisions more.

3.    What’s the toughest decision you ever made? Once I spent over an hour deciding if I wanted carbonara or caciatora. I went with caciatora, and that day I learned that if you are in doubt, you should always go with what your dinner company orders. My dad got carbonara, and it was out of this world. If you order the same thing as your date, it might still be the lesser option, but at least you will not know what you are missing. As an intellectual, this is one of the conclusions I’m the most proud of.

4.    What have you forgotten? Almost all the math I was taught in high school.

5.    If you were guaranteed the answer to one question, what would it be? I would love to know who is answering me, and how they got the ability to answer any question ever.

6.    What’s it like being you right now? Better than it has been. A lot better. I’d say good.

7.    What makes you nostalgic? Lenny Kravitz, long car rides, the soundtrack of midsummer murders and the smell of old Swedish cabin in a Småland forest (we all know that smell).

8.    If you had two hours left on earth what would you do? Sit close to my parents, and talk about our life together. And tell them how grateful I am and how happy they’ve made me.

9.    What’s the most beautiful word in the world? The Swedish Blockchoklad or the Russian Nemnoga

10. Who makes you laugh more than anyone? Alex, no doubt.

11. What did your father teach you? How to show affection, how to make people laugh, how to interact with strangers, how to put together a good outfit, how to cook and pretty much everything I know on economy and religion. And how much it means to have amazing parents that never, not even once, let you down.

12. What did your mother teach you? How to not give a shit about anyone’s opinion, how to appreciate simplicity, how to be a storyteller, how to calm down when afraid, how to love without giving yourself up, how to be badass and pretty much everything I know on literature, self-esteem and really bad British crime stories. And how much it means to have amazing parents that never, not even once, let you down.

13. What’s the best gift you’ve ever given? An orange moose I gave to my dad. It was really cheap and dumb, but he had just been diagnosed with a chronical disease (he is much better now) and everything just seemed to fall apart. So I did what any good daughter would do, I bought him a stuffed animal. It made him smile. And he still keeps it by his bedside. It’s called the vomit moose, since that was the most… obvious symptom at the time.

14. Best gift you ever received? My friend Lin gave me a card once with pictures and drawings of us. I love it and still have it ten years later.

15. How many times a day do you look in the mirror? Way too many.

16. What do you bring most to a friendship? I’d like to think I am funny. I talk too much, and always about the wrong and often quite strange things, but when I’m in the right mood and they’re in the right mood; I’d say I am funny.

17. If 100 people in your age group were selected randomly, how many do you think they’d find leading a happier life than you? Very few if we are talking happy as in privileged. I am so very lucky and have had so many fortunate turns in my life.  

18. What is or was your best subject in school? Social science.

19. What activity do you do that makes you feel most like yourself? Writing.

20. What makes you feel supported? I do. (Wow, I am actually quite proud of that answer, but it is true. Sometimes I look for help or motivation in others, but confidence and shit I truthfully only find in myself).

21. Whom do you secretly admire? Secretly? No one. I admire a lot of people, and I think I make sure to tell them.

22. What time of the day do you feel the most energetic and what do you usually do in those moments? Noon. Usually waste that energy on procrastination.

23. What’s something you never leave home without? Pants.

24. What’s a recurring dream you have? Teeth falling out. Or organs. I quite often have nightmares about some stuff that is supposed to be inside or attached to my body suddenly isn’t.

25. What makes you feel safe? Blankets and tea.

26. What’s the best thing that ever happened to you? Discovering international law as my field of work.

27. What do you want people to say about you once you’re gone? That I was smart.

28. What’s the coolest thing about science? Well… let’s go with nature science, because my field of research is not cool at all. I think it’s about the fact that nature is there. It’s not something we invent or solve, it’s something we discover. It’s all written, all the answers are out there somewhere. All the equations, all the numbers, they all correspond to a reality we only see fragments of. It’s like humanity is reading a book together, and the physicists and biologists flip the pages. And for each chapter we find out more and more about how the world around us works.

29. What’s the best money you ever spent? My skinny, black jeans.

30. What’s a bad habit you have? Listening to bad music. I don’t want to support sexist or racist producers. Still here I am, having my playlists filled with pop about grabbing pussies. I’m also weirdly addicted to marzipan.

31. What are you grateful for? My professors and a free education.

32. Whom are you envious of? Almost everyone. But it varies, passes and comes back. It depends on the day. Or the hour.

33. What’s an image you’ll never forget? Well, I have to go with a few summers ago when me and a former classmate ended up skinny dipping in a sunset down at Österlen. But actually, the first thing that came to mind was the real holocaust footage that was included in the TV-show The Promise. I had to leave the room, could not finish the series and I still think about it quite often.

34. Describe a near-death experience. My brain thinks I have one daily, but I don’t think I’ve ever had one. Once I got my luggage lost in Russia, and we had to drive around downtown St Petersburg for hours in a shady cab. It was all fine and no hostile environment what so ever, but when I tell the story it really sounds quite near-death.

35. If you had a clone, what would you have the clone do? Dishes.

36. What’s your idea of Heaven? A lot of cozy spots by windows with rain outside. Good food, good tea and good conversation. A book shelf would be nice too.

37. What’s your idea Hell? Bad food, bad tea and bad conversation.

38. When did you know? Did I ever?

39. What can you do better? I could be more structured. I literally have no routines at all.

40. When are you most yourself? When I am alone, covered in loud music.

41. What superpower would you most like to have? Time travelling but without all the complicated world-war-shit to come with it.

42. If you were granted three wishes, what would you do with the second wish? Fix up the UN.

43. What is your actual superpower? I am very, very analytic. I am also amazing at app games.

44. If you won 100 million dollars, what would you buy first? I would love to own a goat. But well, that’s more of a management problem than an actual money problem.

45. What's the best sound in the world? Waves. Or someone biting in chocolate.

46. What’s perfect about your life? My parents. And Amanda. She is a wonderful person. 

47. What song do you sing only when you’re alone and what memory does it bring back? Min Kärlek av Shirley Clamp. And there is no memories connected, it’s just fucking brilliant.

48. Describe a moment you were so embarrassed you wanted to disappear. When I was 8 we had a quiz in class, and I answered cow instead of turtle (I will NOT tell you the question).

49. How many times a day do you think about money? Every time I use it.

50. Who has been the biggest influence on you in your relationship to money? My parents.

51. What's one thing you're certain of? Cows don’t have shells.

52. Describe one of your colossal failures. I think I just did.

53. What makes you cringe? People trying to make memes a thing you can refer to in real life.

54. What does your inner voice tell you? To shut up. I tell it the same.

55. What crime have you considered committing? I don’t even bike without a helmet. I am a pussy.

56. What's great about your mom? Her hair is amazing.

57. What’s great about your dad? His hair is not so very amazing (and I inherited it) but he has other good qualities. He collects post-cards for example. That’s pretty cool.

58. Which day would you gladly re-live? The day in third grade when I won the egg-cracking championship at our school.

59. What are you awesome at? Egg-cracking, obviously.

60. What do you want people you meet for the first time to think about you? That I seem decent.

61. When were you most afraid? Berlin, 2014.

62. What are you terrible at but love to do anyway? Sex, probably.

63. What weapon would you carry during the Zombie Apocalypse? An axe or a sword. Or a nuke, if bad goes to worse.

64. Which of your five senses would you keep if you could only keep one? I would like to hear shit.

65. What’s something you love to make? Pancakes.

66. What do you cook better than anyone? This weird ass pasta with butter. It’s unhealthy but so damn good.

67. What do you wish you’d invented? The airplane. Or well… the flying machine or whatever it was called when it was invented.

68. What would you like to invent? A new UN system.

69. Out of 100 random people, where would you rank yourself in terms of your intelligence? Pretty high.

70. Where do you want to be right now? Venice.

71. If you could be someone else for a day who would it be and why? Graham Norton. He seems so happy. And he is funny and smart and his job seems to be really cool.

72. What makes you feel powerful? My Hans Zimmer playlist.

73. What’s the meanest thing you’ve ever said? Considering how empty my brain is right now, I think it has done quite some work on supressing those memories.

74. What’s the meanest thing someone has ever said to you? Actually, most people are nice. I don’t think anyone has ever been really mean to me. Sometimes I get hurt, when people say I am pretentious or annoying. But the only reason they say that (and the only reason it hurts) is it’s true.

75. What three words would you have on your grave stone? Let me sleep.

76. What’s your first thought when you wake up? Let me sleep.

77. What’s one thing you wake up to in the middle of the night worrying about? Usually if I have cancer in the prostate since I need to pee ALL the time. But then I remember I am a female.

78. If you could tell someone something anonymously, what would it be? I would tell my cousin Johan to never be insecure about anything. He is probably the most awesome, complete and admirable person in the world.

79. Whom would you like to forgive and forget? The people who made two and a half men.

80. If you could get rid of one of your responsibilities today, what would it be? Dishes.

81. What type of person angers you the most? Extreme right wingers who grew up in a place where they had a choice. Of course you can’t blame people for reacting to the environment around them, and get affected by their culture – but people who grow up with access to information and without oppression – how on earth did you make those conclusions?  

82. What is your greatest strength? I’m confident about my intellect.

83. What is your worst weakness? I’m insecure about pretty much everything else.

84. How do you show your love for others?  Tiny surprises. It can be buying them flowers, cleaning their apartment or just answering a two years old text and apologize for forgetting their existence.

85. Why are you here in this room right now? It’s 10 degrees minus outside.

86. When is a time you forgave someone or were forgiven for something? I forgave myself for not doing the dishes. It felt good.

87. What’s the biggest mistake you ever made? Talking too much. I always talk too much. It’s not one big mistake at one certain event. But it keeps on happening and I never fucking learn.

88. What are you hiding? Nothing.

89. What’s your unanswerable question--the question you seem to always be asking yourself? Can there be true objectivity?

90. What are you ashamed of? My fetishes.

91. What is stopping you? Panic attacks. Or walls, mostly.

92. What’s a secret you have? I really have no idea what I am going to do with my life.

93. How do you secretly manipulate people to get your way? I don’t do this on purpose, but I’ve noticed it happening without actively thinking about it. I usually express a will to rely on people, and come across as weak and fragile, making them think I need their help and protection – when I am really just better of on my own.

94. When was the last time you apologized? This morning.

95. What is the biggest lie you tell yourself? That I am a cool and mysterious person that people look up to.  

96. What’s the moment you left childhood behind? Probably when I moved out from home and went grocery shopping for the first time. Deciding if I needed milk or not was my first ever adult decision.

97. What's missing from your life? Structure. And home cooked meals.

98. Do you believe in a higher power? No.

99. What are you ready to let go of? About half my closet and my fear of flying.

[killermanatee]

Matt Smith panel at FedCon Germany on June 2nd

I tried my best to type along. And then this ended up being reeeeeaaaaaally long. He was incredibly sweet during the photo shoot and the Q&A. A pure joy. Kept telling people how good their questions were and asking them what they thought. So here you go: Favourite kiss: Arthur because he didn't know it was gonna happen. Otherwise Alex Kingston, especially the fist kiss at Stormcage. Doesn't know who is the next Doctor, but bugs his friend who knows about it. Would he play any other part on Who: The Master or River Song Favourite superhero is Batman and Doctor is the anti Superhero His roles bleed into his life. He comes home now and speaks extra posh while filming The Crown. His doctor was clumsy cause he is and Eleven was terrible with girls because he is amazing with them (laughs). It's great that everyone has a favorite Doctor because they're all different. Would you travel with the Tardis (questioner said maybe, had mentioned his girlfriend): If a box appeared and a strange man asked you to come away you'd say maybe? Where is your girlfriend About the Queen liking The crown: If true, it's cool, wow, amazing, she is an incredible women, endurance of the royal family is amazing Also the idea of her watching Netflix. How does she do it? Netflix and chill? I reality liked you in Terminator: (in a shocked voice) Really?! Is mortality gift or curse? Gift, immortality has pluses, he wouldn't say no to being a vampire, but he's up for anything but would we age? A Who moment that impressed him deeply: end of Vincent and the Doctor, and that the Doctor in the face of adversity runs towards the bad stuff and monsters. Question you like to hear: where he'd take the Tardis, at airports he always gets "didn't bring the Tardis, mate?" Instead it's tedious to get onto a plane. What have you done today? Brought his friends, flew here, saw Liam Gallagher last night. Just hung out drinking fizzy water all day today. Since his former companions now at DC and Marvel where would he go: He'd do Batman or the Joker. In the eleventh hour, what did you actually eat: encourages everyone to eat it fishfingers with custard, but there were many shots, eventually they were made of coconut, but he made himself sick About the fez: Really wanted a hat, Moffat kept saying no, but he was very excited even if all his hats got shot off Favorite episode: loves an episode of Old with cybermen, (didn't catch the title) loved the Eleventh Hour and Christmas Carol. Was weird to become the Doctor people hated him at first and on the streets they told him to not ruin it, but he always knew he had a plan for his Doctor River cosplayer: hello sweety Matt: hello darling Little kid asks in German, gets translated: where would you like to travel through time? It was rally close on the show, is concerned about the kid understanding him, Matt would visit the dinosaurs, see England winbing the world cup, take Marilyn Monroe on a date, have Frank Sinatra sing for them, and then pick up his mates and the kid to see the world cup. On Moffat: Didn't know what was coming up, River knew his name, but Steven never told them anything, they were always as surprised as the viewers but had to keep it secret for months. Favorite Doctor: Loves David, Chris and Peter, is really torn, likes Patrick Troughton The doctor can't mourn his own death, because he lives on Hard episode to play: being cold at Stonehenge was difficult, filming at night is difficult, but it's nor really like a job because it's Doctor Who Which crafts would you like to pick up: be the best footballer and beat Germany on the final penalty, or a really good musician He fantasized about the Doctor, but not in a bad way ;) Which other companions would you have liked to travel with: Rose. Definitely because she is a close mate Conspiracy theory of his eyebrow having been sold to Moffat: it's true. His whole life he looked at his face and wondered why he didn't have any. Someone stole them, if anyone finds them they should give them back. Likes the theory that Peter Capaldi stole them. Tried many different costumes for Eleven, wanted him to feel like a geek or a Geography teacher, wore a tweed blazer for the audition, producers were against the bowtie at first but he convinced them of it Gets very excited over a girls Batman shirt Played pranks on Karen like hiding in the shower of her trailer He really wanted to do an episode about going to Atlantis under water, glad they did dinosaurs. Or have the Doctor visit Pluto because it's his favourite planet. Working with James Cordon was wonderful, proud of an Englishman making it in the US Crossover episodes with Back to the Future would be great, you could put him on any show like Breaking Bad or The Walking Dead. He would sort everything out really fast though. There was talk about a Sherlock crossover, it would be fun but Sherlock and the Doctor together would be a nightmare just arguing over who is right. But the Doctor would win because he is 900 years old and Sherlock is just clever. if playing a real person is different to play: The Doctor is real! But there is much more to immerse yourself in with real people Playing the Doctor is like Hamlet because there is much of the actors in it, put a lot of yourself in, so his is very physical Best season was the first season he did with Moffat Who could be a female Doctor: could be really interesting, maybe Ruth Wilson, has to think about it, doesn't think the Doctor is a male role, why should anything be only male? Favorite movie or series to watch: Stranger Things, Narcos, Trainspotting. Yowza! That's all. I know it's not great prose but I tried to type along to save as much of what he said as possible. :)