#the directors for sure had to have seen how uh. some people reacted to that version of robotnik in the 1st movie and doubled down on it

[lawfulspawnofthedevil]

now that i've gone and rented sonic 2 i just have but 1 complaint. whyyy did robotnik call himself 'daddy' so many times UGHH EW EWWW

[tumbleweed-palmer]

Big Dumb Mouth: Jimmy Palmer X Reader

Jimmy has been dreaming of her lips pressed to his for so long now and it's finally happening. What happens when his big mouth and the words that fall out of it lead to a misunderstanding though?

===========================

Jimmy wasn’t sure how it ended up like this, but his lips were pressed to hers and her arms were wrapped around him pulling him close against her.

He guessed he should have seen this coming. There had been months and months of subtle flirty glances and exchanges between them that weren’t all that subtle. Or he guessed they weren’t subtle given Dr. Mallard’s casual hints that Jimmy should just bite the bullet and in Ducky’s words “ask Young Miss. Y/L/N out for coffee”

Jimmy was pretty sure this current activity went far beyond just asking her out for coffee or to see a movie. Not that he was complaining.

She was a gorgeous woman, that was an understatement. He’d been nursing a crush on her from the moment they’d been introduced months ago when Y/N had been hired as a technical analyst by Director Vance. She was great at her job; brilliant enough that McGee and Abby had quickly gotten over their annoyance that someone had been hired to do a job they were perfectly capable of managing on their own.

Jimmy had been a big fan of Y/N from the start. It wasn’t just her brilliance or her beauty that had drawn him in. It was everything about her.

She was so sweet and so gentle. She held a serene sense of calm and warmth that made Jimmy think of a kindergarten teacher. Much like him she had to see so many horrible things each and every day. She had to dig into the depths of people’s lives and find all their secrets. She was forced to see disturbing images daily, but she never let it dull her kindness.

Jimmy had been drawn to Y/N from the moment he met her. It had been love at first sight he was convinced. How could he not be utterly devoted to her? She’d walked in with Director Vance, Vance making introductions to everyone she might find herself working with, and Jimmy’s eyes had landed on her. He’d been overtaken with how she looked so sweet in that pretty mint green dress and had been even more entranced by her even prettier eyes. She’d given him one little smile and he’d been head over heels for her.

He’d learned so much about her in her time here mostly from overheard conversations she’d had with Ziva or Abby. He learned that she did yoga on Sundays and she loved matcha tea. She had pink hair in high school and she missed it dearly but understood it wasn’t exactly work appropriate. She’d actually had quite a rebellious phase in her youth which was how she’d gotten so good with computers. She’d only hinted at the trouble she’d found herself in hacking into something she shouldn’t have which had earned her a bit of a reputation and had earned her enough credibility to be recruited for this job. She was a dog person and Jimmy had heard her discussing corgis with Dr. Mallard given his mother had quite a few and Y/N herself was considering getting one. She hated caramel. She loved Halloween and had been excited when Abby had invited her to a costume party. She loved wearing heels even though she complained they killed her feet. She always seemed so put together. It was something Jimmy admired about her; how elegant she always seemed. She was from a tiny mining town down south and she still had a hint of an accent that honestly made Jimmy melt just the slightest. She hated it when people called her a southern belle though or made condescending comments about her accent.

There were so many things he adored about her.

They were only friends though. They’d built up a friendship sharing lunch breaks and coffee breaks at times. They were close enough in age that they’d found they had a little in common as far as childhood memories went. Their friendship had been mostly filled with those shared coffee breaks and lunches and the occasional time spent together when everyone wanted to go grab a drink after work.

Neither Jimmy nor her were big in the bar scene and they seemed to find that they liked one another’s company over any of the more enthusiastic bar patrons. Y/N didn’t even judge Jimmy when he ordered a more stereotypically feminine sugary cocktail instead of beer or hard liquor like their coworkers. In fact, Y/N would usually pipe up that Jimmy’s order sounded good so she might try it too. Jimmy had always appreciated that about her. She could recognize when was feeling self conscious and seemed to have a way of reassuring him without it coming across as condescending or patronizing.

She just had a way of making him feel at ease. He felt like he could really be himself around her without judgement or anxiety rearing its ugly head in.

Jimmy had always told himself that friendship was enough. He would rather have her as his friend than risk losing her as a possible lover.

It seemed though that perhaps this was more than friendship. At least it seemed that way given their current activity.

He still wasn’t sure how this was happening. All he knew was that they were both working late and she’d come downstairs to Autopsy to see if he wanted to take a coffee break with her. One thing had led to another and now here they were, their lips pressed together, their hands roaming one another’s still clothed bodies.

He’d looked down at her and she’d been staring up at him and their lips had just met. There had been no words exchanged. This seemed to be months of flirting and shared gazes and sexual tension finally exploding between them.

Jimmy easily managed to dominate the kisses, a situation he was unaccustomed to when it came to his intimate encounters. He was usually the one who took a more submissive role when it came to his romantic partners. He had to like this newfound role though. He had to like that she seemed to trust him enough to let him take the reins so to speak.

They walked backwards towards the desk their lips not leaving one another as he backed her against the desk relieved that it seemed to be free of paperwork for once. He was sure Dr. Mallard would kill him if he pushed any case files or documents from the desk. Actually he was more than certain Dr. Mallard would kill him for this entire situation. He was the one who always insisted that Autopsy was a sacred place of respect. Jimmy was pretty sure this wasn’t exactly a respectful activity.

He couldn’t find it in him to care too much though. Besides this wasn’t the first time he’d found himself in this situation.

He pressed his lips down her neck the soft moan she let out encouraging his actions her fingers threading through his hair making a mess out of his curls.

He nipped and sucked at her neck not caring if he left a mark in his wake. The idea of leaving signs of what they’d done littered across their skin made him moan.

She pulled back from his touch their breathing so heavy their eyes dark with lust his hands not pulling from her. She spoke her cheeks flushing from more than arousal. “I’ve never done anything like this before.”

“It’s okay. This isn’t the first time I’ve done this.” Jimmy blurted out his heart dropping the second he realized just what he’d said and saw just how she reacted.

She pulled from him as though his touch burned her brow furrowing. “What do you mean?”

Jimmy cringed the word dancing around in the back of his brain taunting him Idiot, idiot, idiot. Now You’ve gone and done it. Look at the idiot and his big mouth!

He parted his lips stammering as he struggled to explain himself. “I’ve uh..I’ve I-I’ve hooked up at wor-work before with a coworker... You see I uh, I…”

Y/N felt her heart sink her mind automatically jumping to the worst possible conclusion. Wow, was this just something he did with girls around work? She hadn’t ever thought it was possible that Jimmy Palmer had a habit of doing this? Maybe she was just another notch in his bedpost.

She’d never suspected that Jimmy Palmer could be some kind of office manwhore. She would have thought that Tony DiNozzo was the one who had a habit of hooking up with girls around the office like it was some sort of game. Was Jimmy seriously just a love them and leave them type?

She spoke, not allowing him to continue not being able to stop herself from voicing her concerns. “So is this a habit for you? Hooking up with coworkers? Am I just a flavor of the week for you?”

Jimmy parted his lips, his throat tightening up his words failing to come. How could she think that? A little voice in the back of his brain told him had no right to be offended. He knew how this sounded.

His mouth opened and closed a few times, he looking like a fish gasping for water on land, Jimmy struggling to find the words to explain the entire story. He felt as though all the words he wanted to say were getting jumbled up at the tip of his tongue and he couldn’t work a thing out.

Y/N felt her temper rise at his loss for words. She took his silence as her answer.

She felt her heart sink. How could she have been so dumb? Of course this didn’t mean anything to him. Why was she like this? She got so over sentimental and over romantic about guys and they always let her down. She’d thought that Jimmy was different from every other guy who pursued her. He seemed so sweet and gentle. He was so cheerful and polite that it was hard not to adore him. He had almost a boyish charm to him that had made him endearing to her. Not to mention the fact that he was so passionate and determined when it came to his career choice. She’d always liked passion and motivation in a man.

She’d never imagined he was the kind of guy to be into just hooking up without it meaning a thing especially with someone he worked with. She’d let her heart get carried away and imagine that this was the beginning to their love story. She’d let herself believe that this meant that they would run away into the sunset together. She’d let herself get caught up in a dumb crush and had assumed he felt the same. Jimmy clearly was only thinking with his dick at the moment. Why were men so disappointing?

She felt like an idiot. She pushed him back standing up from the desk straightening her clothing, her voice harsh. “Just forget it Jimmy. Clearly we aren’t on the same page. I don’t even think we’re in the same book. I’m not the kind of girl who’s okay with just hooking up with no strings attached. I don’t judge you for being into anything casual, but it's not for me.”

Jimmy finally forced himself to speak, his hands reaching for her as she headed towards the door. “Wait Y/N, please.”

“Forget it Jimmy. Just forget it ever happened.” She snapped storming from the room, Jimmy feeling his heart sink.

How could things go so wrong so fast?

He felt a self deprecating voice in the back of his head speak up “Nice going. She hates your guts. You finally got to kiss the girl you’re crazy about only to fuck everything up. Just typical for you. James Palmer the king of self sabotage.”

He groaned, unsure if he should follow her and try to explain it all. She seemed so angry. He had never done well with confrontation, especially when that confrontation came from an angry woman.

He felt his heart sink all the more hating that he was such a coward. He couldn’t go after her. She probably hated him. He’d ruined everything once again.

He felt himself begin to wallow in self-pity cursing his big fat mouth.

He took a deep breath a sense of determination washing over him. No, no he wasn’t just giving up. He wasn’t going to lose her over his big mouth.

He just had to figure out how to fix this all. There had to be a way to fix this.

…………………………………………………………………………………………………

Y/N cringed, feeling her eyes on her. She tried to pretend that she was too invested in her computer to pay any mind to Ziva standing over her. She knew she meant well, but Y/N couldn’t help but to find Ziva standing over her like this to be a little unnerving.

She cleared her throat her voice tight. “I won’t have the background check done any time soon. This guy has like a million aliases. So you can go if you have something better to do.”

She spoke again trying to make a joke hoping she could use humor to deflect the crushing sense of heartbreak that was still hanging over her from last night’s disastrous events. “If you keep looming over me staring at me like that I’m gonna start thinking you’ve got a crush on me.”

Ziva was fast to speak, still eyeing Y/N with a knowing glance. “You are not my type and I am quite sure I am not yours.”

She paused, not afraid to be blunt about it. “Why are you so grouchy today? You are crappy.”

“Crabby, you mean? Crappies are fish, crabs are shellfish.” Y/N responded more than accustomed to Ziva’s occasional mistakes when it came to American figures of speech.

“Yes, the little sea creature with the pinchers. It’s a word that means you are irritable right?” Ziva remarked not at all minding Y/N’s correction.

Y/N sighed trying to pretend that the truth wasn’t so obvious. “I’m fine, just tired.”

“There is more to this than being tired. You seem sad. You are not you.” Ziva insisted making it clear she wasn’t just going to let this go.

Y/N sighed knowing that it was obvious she was a little out of sorts. She hadn’t been looking forward to coming into work this morning. She’d dreaded running into Jimmy after what had happened last night.

She still felt so humiliated. She’d liked him so much and he was clearly just looking to get laid. She felt dumb for feeling so disappointed and heartbroken. Jimmy was just another guy she’d have to add to the list of disappointing men in her life.

She’d been foolish enough to hope that Jimmy was different. Wasn’t that the mistake she always made though; believing that it was different this time. She always mistakenly believed that this guy was different only to be crushed when she realized they were all the same as the others.

She had done her best to hide her heartbreak at least as far as her appearance went. She’d picked out a pretty red dress that matched her nails and had fixed her hair and painstakingly done her makeup. She had put together one of her usual favorite outfits and walked into work with her head held up high. She’d sat in her office and got to work. On the outside she appeared to be just as put together as she always was. It was obvious to those who knew her well though that there was something off. She wasn’t filled with bright smiles and she wasn’t even drinking her favorite tea or softly humming her favorite songs as she worked.

She let out a heavy sigh knowing that Ziva wasn’t going to let this go. She was the type to keep poking the proverbial bear until she got an answer. “Jimmy and I kissed last night.”

“Is that a bad thing? I was under the assumption that you wanted to kiss him.” Ziva replied a frown crossing her features as she tried to find the problem.

Y/N felt her cheeks flush knowing that to Ziva and Abby the little crush she was nursing for Jimmy Palmer was so obvious. She had spent quite a bit of time with Ziva and Abby it feeling nice to hang out with the only other two women she worked so closely with. She’d been unable to hide her affection for Jimmy given that she tended to talk about him more often than not without even realizing. They’d tried to encourage her to pursue Jimmy, but Y/N was always hesitant fearing ruining the friendship they’d developed.

Y/N sighed knowing that she had to tell the truth. “We were getting pretty into it...like really hot and heavy and it was obvious that it was headed...you know in that direction... I was trying to tell him that I’ve never gotten intimate at work before, I didn’t want him to get the wrong idea...and then he blurted out that this isn’t the first time he’s done this with a coworker. It was pretty obvious that he thought of it as a hook up and nothing more.”

“Did he say that exactly to you?” Ziva asked her frown deepening understanding exactly who Jimmy had been talking about when he spoke of the coworker he’d done this with before. She knew it wasn’t her story to tell though. That was on Jimmy.

Y/N rolled her eyes as she replied. “He didn’t have to. His silence when I questioned him about it said it all.”

“I am sure that his silence was not an answer. Jimmy really does not seem to be the love them and leave them type of man. Perhaps you should talk to him about it, clear it up.” Ziva offered knowing it was all she could do.

Y/N shook her head a heavy huff leaving her. “There’s no point. He made it pretty clear what his intentions were. It’s just...super disappointing. I really liked him, you know? I thought he might be different, that things might be different with him. It’s...whatever though. I just need some time to mope and then I’ll get over him.”

Ziva frowned all the more wanting to point out that Y/N just needed to woman up and confront Jimmy. She was so stubborn and it was bordering on immature. Just leaving it be and jumping to conclusions would only cause her more heartache.

She kept her lips sealed though knowing that Y/N was a grown woman and Ziva wasn’t her mother. She couldn’t force her to do anything.

It turned out Ziva might not have to worry about forcing it as a soft knock sounded out at the door frame Ziva and Y/N turning to see the very man they’d been discussing.

Y/N felt her stomach turn at the sight of him her eyes narrowing. What part of forget it didn’t he get?

Jimmy shifted in place having to wonder if the bouquet of pink and yellow tulips he was holding was a bad idea. The florist had told him that tulips represented a hope for a new beginning, peace, and forgiveness. That seemed to be all the things Jimmy was hoping for.

Jimmy spoke his voice soft he looking like a kicked puppy at the moment he clearly losing confidence by the second. “Is this a bad time?”

Y/N parted her lips to say Yes but Ziva spoke answering for her. “Not at all, I’ll leave you two to it.”

Y/N shot Ziva a glare ignoring her knowing smile and her soft words to Jimmy as she passed him. “Don’t mess this up Jimmy. Good luck.”

Jimmy furrowed his brow wondering just how much Ziva knew?

He shifted in place holding the flowers out the words leaving him. “These are for you.”

Y/N sighed a little bit of fury swirling in her gut. Did he seriously think buying her flowers would make up for the fact that he’d been perfectly willing to use her as a quick lay the night before? Did he really think he could buy her flowers and she’d forget he planned on making her yet another hookup to add to his apparent list?

He spoke again, his heart sinking realizing she wasn’t taking them. “I just..I-I wanted to apologize for last night.”

Y/N spoke, her voice still sounding harsh. “I told you to forget it Jimmy. It was a mistake. We aren’t on the same page.”

“It wasn’t a mistake though...or I don’t think it was a mistake.” Jimmy insisted.

He sighed knowing he had to just be honest with her and hope that she could accept it. “I always say the wrong thing. It’s a curse. I have a big fat mouth and I ruin every good thing in my life. My job is the only thing my mouth hasn’t totally ruined for me.”

He let out a soft sigh finding the words he should have said last night. “I don’t want my big mouth to ruin us. I think we need to talk.”

He paused relieved that her face had softened a little bit she seeming less closed off. He took a deep breath as he spoke up explaining it all. “When I mentioned it not being my first experience with uh...that...last night. I didn’t mean that I make a habit of you know…”

“Fucking your coworkers.” Y/N responded being blunt about it.

Jimmy felt his cheeks flush nodding his head as he replied. “I don’t just sleep with people without it meaning something. I promise you I wouldn’t sleep with you or even kiss you if it didn’t mean something to me. I swear on my life. I did a really poor job of explaining myself last night.”

He cleared his throat deciding to just be transparent about it all. “I had a relationship with someone who used to work here...it wasn’t much of a relationship really. It was more focused on sex than anything. We had a tendency to uh...have encounters at work. Michelle and I...it was complicated.”

He paused knowing it did no good to get into the secrets that had been exposed about Michelle Lee or her treason or the story behind it. He was sure that was confidential information that wasn’t meant to be shared.

He spoke again knowing the best way he could explain it. “It’s a long complicated story. All I can say though is that we really weren’t good for each other. I felt used to be honest. It felt like she was only interested in sleeping with me but not anything else that went into a relationship. We were sexually compatible but she wasn’t there for me in the way I needed her to be. So, I broke up with her.”

Y/N felt the words leave her soaking up this information. Part of her wanted to think that there had to be more to the story than what he was telling her, but he seemed so genuine. “So, that’s what you meant by this isn’t the first time I’ve done this?”

Jimmy nodded his head his cheeks flushing this entire conversation feeling somewhat awkward. What if she judged him for it? What if she was disgusted by it? Then again did she have a reason to be, after all they’d been clearly headed towards getting intimate at work last night.

He spoke the words still sounding so genuine. “The break up was rough but it needed to happen. Like I said, we were bad for each other. There were a lot of secrets on her end that I can’t even get into.”

She furrowed her brow wondering just why he couldn’t get into it. He spoke again struggling to explain himself. “Trust me it’s complicated.”

He paused, taking a deep breath. “I would never use you as a means to get laid. When I kissed you last night it’s because I wanted to. I’ve wanted to do it for a while actually. It’s all I can think about when I see you. I am pretty crazy for you to be honest. I think I’ve made that pretty clear.”

“I think you have.” She replied knowing he’d been so quick to always shoot her flirty smiles and attempt to tell her jokes no matter how truly awful they were. Then again she was always fast to return those smiles and laugh at those bad jokes.

She gave him a soft smile, his heart lifting as she spoke. “I think I’ve been pretty clear about how I feel as well.”

Jimmy took a deep breath holding the flowers out again. “Do you think I can ask for another chance? I’ll try not to let my big mouth ruin anything this time.”

Y/N gave him her answer she standing up from her desk and leaning up her lips pressing to his. He embraced her, still somehow keeping a tight grip on the bouquet he was holding. This kiss was much more innocent than the passionate kisses they’d shared the night before but somehow this kiss seemed all the better.

She parted her lips from his her voice soft. “I think I can give you a second chance. I don’t mind your big mouth.”

He pressed his lips to hers again as she spoke. “I should have heard you out last night. I jumped to the worst conclusion like an asshole.”

“It’s okay, I mean...I froze up and didn’t explain myself at all.” He replied refusing to let her take all the blame.

They shared another kiss before he spoke the words falling out of him, his big mouth striking again. “Do you think we could try for a repeat of last night?”

He felt his stomach drop fearing the worst. His fears evaporated though as she spoke. “Maybe the next time we work late we can give that another shot...maybe in my office this time though...Autopsy isn’t exactly a romantic destination for me. Before that though I think I’d like a dinner date and maybe trying it out in a bed first.”

He felt a lovesick smile cross his lips at her words.

For once his big mouth was working in his favor.

[eideticindy]

Flustered

Sam Winchester x Reader

Warnings: Flirting, suggestive language, implied smut. Oh, and mention of dead bodies.

WC: 815

Note from Indy: I’m a beginner writer (in the fanfic world), and I have a super crappy/cheap computer, so please don’t mind the weird format (it might glitch). Thanks for reading!

You stared up at the clock on the wall, wondering when your next meeting would begin. You were meeting with two old friends, the very men you call in when you noticed your overall "clientele" seemed to be meeting strange fates. Being the county medical examiner, you were used to seeing dead people. But, it was usually a matter of illness, simple murder, or car accidents. And, for the most part, their organs were reasonably intact. But these bodies, well, they were missing their brains. 

"It's like they melted," you muttered to yourself as you glanced over the top case file. There were six over the last two weeks, which was way more than you were comfortable with. Not that you were comfortable with missing brains to begin with, but whatever. You lifted your head as a tall, lean figure entered your office. The well-fitted FED-in-disguise was none other than Sam Winchester. A smaller figure followed, obviously Dean. 

"Long time, no see gents. How's it been?" you greeted with a smile. Dean instantly came in for a hug. 

"It's been too long, Y/N. Or, should I say, Doctor Y/L/N?" He chuckled, making you smile. Sam approached next, his face already red. 

Sam and you had a one-night thing about two years prior. It was when you were still in your residency at the local hospital, and you were in the infectious disease department. There was someone who came in with something you had never seen before, and neither had your medical director, a pathologist with over three decades in practice. Of course, it was the work of a witch, and the Winchester brothers put a stop to it before anyone else could get hurt. But that night, well, let's just say you were happy you had the next day off. There was no sleep in your itinerary that evening. Oh, no. It was all Sam Winchester. 

You smiled up at the younger, yet taller brother and smiled, before wrapping your hands around his dense core. "How's it going, Sam?" you asked sweetly, leaning back against your desk. You crossed your ankles, showcasing your exposed legs. You decided to wear a dress, not your usual attire. You worked with dead people, so who cared if you were dressed up? But today, you were meeting with a gorgeous live man, who was definitely reacting to you already. 

Sam's eyes glanced down, then shot back up to your face. Oh, he was already getting flustered. His pupils swelled as he clenched his jaw. He cleared his throat, trying to act normal. 

"So, uh, Y/N, I hear you have some brainless bodies for us." Sam pursed his lips, struggling to keep his eyes on you face. The plunge of your dress was another obvious distraction. 

"Yep. It's like the zombies already got to them." You froze. "Wait, zombies aren't a thing, right?" Dean shook his head. 

"Not exactly. Not like World War Z, anyway. It's a long story. But, this is most likely something else." You nodded with a smile, keeping Sam in your sight. 

"Huh, creepy. Well," you crossed your arms across your chest, getting Sam's attention, "sounds like we need to get to work." 

Sam stared, not even trying to be inconspicuous anymore. His gaze was primal, and his body was rigid. His tongue flicked between his lips, forcing a grin across your lips. You locked your gaze on Sam, holding it as he undressed you with his eyes. You could feel the heat radiating off his skin, and admired the frantic rise and fall of his chest. 

"Uh, you okay Sammy? You look like you need a doctor." Dean studied his brother who was in obvious distress. Sam blinked hard, then turned to Dean. 

"Uh, yeah. I'm good. It's just a little warm in here." You chuckled under your breath. Nice save.

 "Are you sure? I can take your vitals to make sure," you offered teasingly. Sam's gaze snapped back to you. "How about we meet you in the morgue in a few, Dean. I'll make sure Sam's okay. After all, I saw live patients at one point in my career." You offered a sweet smile to the older brother, who nodded. 

"It's a plan. I'll meet you in a few. No dying on me, Sammy," Dean warned. Sam just nodded, then watched Dean leave the room. 

The moment Dean was out of sight, Sam was on your like a rabid animal, his hands gripping and pulling on every inch of skin he could find. His lips devoured yours while he slammed you harder against your desk, causing it to squeal over the tile floor. 

In your medical opinion, his vitals were beyond fine, and he seemed healthy as a horse. The only thing was, well, it was going to be more than a few minutes before the two of you could meet back up with Dean.

[warlockfemale]

Happy Birthday @jovialjuggernaut-draws I am so sorry that this is so late!

Bruce’s colors have always been muted.

He knows because he was told by a doctor after one of many tests. His parents had both smiled widely and told him just what an exciting thing it was. How he had a soulmate out there someplace and waxed poetry about just the sort of things Bruce would notice once he’d found them. He is one of the 30% of the world with someone made just for him that would be found out once his skin touched theirs.

What they hadn’t told him was how only 6% of the world consisted of people with soulmates that had one one another. What would have devastated Bruce once became a relief because he wasn’t destroying another’s life by making them step into the darkness with him. He was happy to date around and allow whoever had been burdened with him to go on with their own life.

And now he was staring in shock into eyes greener than anything Bruce had ever seen before in his life.

“Shit.”

“Shit!” Edward Nygma agreed. He stepped back, cleared his throat, and swiveled around. “Girls! I’ve changed my mind!” Bruce’s mind had frozen into a blue screen so all he could do was stare at the green clad (god is this how so many people usually saw the world?) trio stride out. As if Edward had an important dinner date he was almost late to while Bruce’s entire worldview was trying to stop tilting. He was sure the entire gala was staring at him or Edward at that point, wondering just what Gotham’s most popular billionaire had done to put the robbery to an end so fast.

“Bruce? You doing ok?” Hands started patting him all over. “Bruce? You’re looking really pale here.”

Shit.

* * * *

Bruce wasn’t brooding. He was analyzing the situation from all angles after debriefing it in the batcave to all persons that might get affected. Dick still refused to answer his phone so Bruce asked Wally to tell his son to check the text. Jason apparently thought there was nothing to worry about (and started laughing) and Alfred seemed less concerned about Bruce’s soulmate being a criminal and more worried about how Bruce was reacting.

Bruce wasn’t brooding and to prove it he went to answer the door soon as the bell rang.

“Delivery for a Mr. Wayne!” Nina Damfino grunted as she shoved a heavy green wrapped box into Bruce’s arms. Unlikely to be an explosive since she’d delivered it and Bruce doubted he could get away with chucking the thing away onto the lawn. So he regrettably started unwrapping the thing; hoping that Edward was watching and wincing at the unnecessary mess made of the custom paper. Taking a deep breath (and hoping that Riddler hadn’t somehow bribed Ivy into giving up some pollen) Bruce opened the box.

What. The. Fuck.

Those were Bruce’s statues. The ones depleting Zal and Rudabeh, stolen from the museum they had been on loan to years ago.

Bruce slammed the door shut in Nina’s face.

* * * *

Of course someone had noticed what was going on. Bruce hadn’t been able to stop himself from gawking at just how many different colors the world had now. Or maybe Riddler had bragged to the entire city about it. Either way Bruce was suddenly bombarded with reporters from the society page. One of them had the gall to ask when the wedding was.

“I have a preteen son,” had been Bruce’s statement hoping that could clear things up. “He is my first priority.”

In hindsight that might have been the wrong thing to say.

* * * *

“So I’ve changed the rules a little. My riddles will lead you to criminals and this time they won’t be me!” Jason was practically vibrating in place from mirth as Bruce stared fixedly at the letter laying on the table. Gordon was giving Bruce A Look.

“Word on the street is something happened at the Wayne gala.”

“Hrrn.”

“Riddler donated back some of the art he stole. Wrapped with a bow.” And with a two sheeted riddle that pretty much translated into one giant insult that the museum’s director was still trying to puzzle out. Jason had thought the entire thing was great after the director’s snub at the “newest Wayne charity case”.

“I heard.” The wall really needed to be repainted.

“Batman I need to know if this is going to explode into something I’ll need to worry about.” That had been Dick’s exact words when he’d come into the cave last night.

“I’m looking into it.” Alfred had already started to make pointed remarks about manners and facing life’s problems. “Now ‘You don’t have to look for a night on the lawn’-”

* * * *

“You know Riddler tried to bribe me into sharing information about you today at the library.” Jason tilted his chair back onto the back legs as if he had not just nearly given Bruce a heart attack with his words. “Don’t worry, I held out for a triple scoop sundae before letting him know your favorite color.”

“Jason, he's a dangerous criminal!”

“Eh I grew up with worse.” Bruce breathed in deep trying not to let Jason see just how troubled that fact always made him. Jason usually said things like that off hand, just another fact about the world. The sky was blue, Selina liked to steal things, and Jason’s childhood until now had consisted of trying to survive. “His eyes aren’t mean. And you’re soulmates.”

“I cannot tell you how little that reassures me,” Jason grinned and tipped his chair back into place the little brat. Bruce ruffled the boy’s hair as punishment earning a fake glare and slap at his hands. “But really Jason, you need to stay safe.”

“Uh huh. Think I could take on the Riddler.” Not reassuring. “I also made sure to be in sight of Barbie at all times.” Much more reassuring since Bruce had personally seen Barbra flip two grown men over her head at once. Another grin, bigger this time. More of a smirk that had Bruce raising an eyebrow. “I also told him that you liked flowers.”

“Jay lad please tell me-”

“Sir there seems to have been a delivery for you.” Alfred’s face was carefully blank, a sure sign of just what Bruce was going to find at the door. “If you do not mind.”

“Don’t worry!” Jason called out happily as Bruce stared in disbelief at the sudden garden now growing on his steps. “I made sure Ivy wouldn’t be out for blood!”

* * * *

“Ah detective!” Edward’s green suit might as well been the only spark of color in the diner as Bruce entered it. As pressed and clean as always while the man himself gave a small toast with his coffee cup. “Glad you could make it! And you solved my riddle! Very good!”

“Riddler.” Bruce sat down at the diner bar taking in Edward’s appearance. “What is it now?”

“Is that any way to talk to your new partner?”

“If you think this game-”

“Oh please,” Edward waved his hand like a magician retrieving their rabbit. “You might think Bruce’s secret is safe but I am a genius. He’s helped fund the Justice League.” Edward leaned in, eyes darting around the near empty diner as his voice lowered. “He’s funding you. I have to play on the side of angels for the only one in the universe that can understand me?” He stood up, throwing cash upon the bar and a grim smile on his face. “Now let’s get to chasing down those criminals. Quick crime question. Who was the biggest thief in history?”

Bruce stared at him, then the newspaper resting under Edward’s coffee cup. “Atlas News? Where is this going?” Edward’s face lit up, eyes gleaming as he didn’t even bother trying to hide his utter delight.

“The game, my dear Watson, is afoot!”

“Awwww.” Nightwing cooed into the communicator from his perch as Edward stumbled out the door. It was not adorable, Bruce reminded himself sternly, for a grown man to go scampering out the way that Edward did with such a look of utter pride on his face for having “bested” Batman. They both had a job to do and he was yet convinced that Edward wasn’t just trying to play another game. “Just for the record. Batgirl says you’re an emotionally repressed coward.”

Batman never sighed. In public.

* * * *

“Why hello there Mr. Wayne. Fancy seeing you um… here. At home. Working in your study.” Sometimes it was easy to forget that Riddler’s over extravagant self praise and mocking towards others covered up a socially awkward man. Alfred’s rather pointed eyebrow raise before the butler closed the door let Bruce know just how little the household held his own social skills. Perfect match Jason had cackled madly last night. One never shuts up and the other just grunts.

“I have a secret.” Bruce managed to grind out as he stared at the area above Edward’s ear. He could do this, he’d managed to disarm a bomb with Firefly setting things on fire last month. He has given this speech several times into the mirror and once to Alfred. “It is a rather large one and will affect any… relationship that I may have.” Bruce chanced a look at Edward’s face and was slightly alarmed to see the man’s lip’s twitching. “You deserve to know and if this makes you decide that a-”

“Unless your secret is that you’re Batman I don’t expect-” Edward trailed off as he stared at Bruce’s face. The green clad man’s face went blank as Bruce went through all the contingency plans for when this went bad. “You’re Batman?” Edward burst out laughing, hands flying to the desk to keep himself upright as his body shook hard. Bruce’s hand flew up to sturdy the man just to be swatted away. “I knew it!”

“You couldn’t have known I was-”

“No, no. Not that. Well, somewhat.” Edward’s eyes really were a bright green, brighter than any other color as he bent forward to give a quick peck to Bruce’s lips, one thumb rising up to trace the small scar on the corner. “I always knew you were the only one who got me.”

[quirklessidiot]

Title: coward :: brat Pairing: Y/N x Miya Atsumu  Genre: angst, romance, and very slow burn [ex to lovers au] Warnings: Cursing, alchohol, mentions of unprotected sex, unplanned pregnancy, and mentions of abortion

Synopsis: you finally see Miya Atsumu after six years, meanwhile, he feels pain when he realizes that you settled down with someone else that wasn’t him. notes: i um want to thank yall for supporting this story im- crying T-T I’m happy to inform everyone that i’ll be updating this twice a week every monday and saturday! yay!!! i was able to finish editing and im writing the last two chapters now. stay safe and big love to each and everyone of you <3

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“...Uh, Youta-Kun, Yuuto-kun, I thought you guys weren’t allowed to go.” Sugawara laughed nervously, knowing all too well where this would lead. He’s familiar with over-enthusiastic boys, in fact, one of those over-enthusiastic balls of sunshine was here right now entertaining them.

“K-Kaasan says it’s alright.” Yuuto lies but Sugawara quirked his brow, it was so obvious that he was lying.

“Yep, she did!” Youta grins, trying to help his twin but like him, he’s failing drastically.

“Then you won’t mind if I call your okaasa-”

“No!” Youta and Yuuto yell in unison. This made other people turn their way, Miya Atsumu watched the pair in amusement from afar. He noticed that they were late and that Sugawara had caught on to their scheme of joining in even without the parental consent, “We won’t join!” Youta proclaims, “Right, yu? W-We’ll pick up balls!”

Hinata feels his eyes glimmer at those words and decides to help them convince Sugawara but in the end, the twins were forced to be benched while the grey-haired teacher had to go back to the faculty to call you.

“It’s alright,” Hinata ruffles both their hairs, “We’ll try to come back next time and I’ll be sure to help convince your ‘kaasan.”

“Hey don’t plant false ideas in their head, Shoyou.” Atsumu grins, lazily jogging to their side. He directs his gaze to the twins that seem to oddly remind him of him and ‘samu when they were younger. The boy's gaze lingered a bit too long on him,unlike other kids who stared at him in awe, these ones were seething, “What are ya lookin’ at, kid?”

“Wow,you’re as mean as your brother.” Yuuto notes, eyeing him up and down. 

“Yeah.” Youta echoes.

Atsumu quirks a brow, this was quite the new reaction. Never in his life had a kid told him that he was mean as ‘Samu also how did they even know his twin brother?

“Now, now, don’t you think you should cut me some slack?” Atsumu tried to jokebut the twins remained unamused by the blonde’s antics, somehow Atsumu felt a sense of familiarity from their monotonous reactions.

“No thanks.” Yuuto crossed his arms, “The fake Atsumu made ‘kaasan cry and since you look like him, you might make ‘kaasan cry too.”

“What he said!” Youta agreed loudly, copying his older brother’s action.

Atsumu was just plain confused now, he admitted that Osamu had an attitude sometimes when he was annoyed but letting a mom cry in front of her kids? That’s definitely new and not-so ‘samu like (after all, he was apparently the nicer one between them)

“What’s the name of your okaasan-”

“Youta-Kun, Yuuto-kun, Your mom will be picking you up at the gate! Please go there now.” Sugawara cuts him off, Youta and Yuuto stand up and eye him for a bit.

“We’ll defeat you and your brother! Just wait and see, we’ll be as big as you and that other jiji!” Yuuto exclaims and before Atsumu could retaliate, they’re running off to the opposite direction. Hinata was laughing beside him, clutching his sides because apparently he was too petty while Sugawara looked at him with an apologetic expression.

“I wonder why L/N-san didn’t allow them to go, she’s usually very supportive of their hobbies, especially volleyball.” Sugawara frowns, suddenly voicing out his thoughts. Atsumu felt his shoulders stiffen at the sound of that familiar name. 

Osamu revealed he saw you last week then these kids suddenly confessed that his twin made their okaasan cry, he’s never seen you cry throughout your relationship (save for that night when you first me but you guys weren't together yet so that didn’t count). Maybe he was mistaken? it might be your relative or a common name.

After all, you were clear about not wanting a family.

“You know their mom well?” Hinata inquired,  Atsumu seems to be listening closely now, wanting to confirm if the person that Sugawara was talking about is you.

“Oh yeah, we're around the same age so I’m much closer to her than the other moms.” Sugawara blinks, “Those boys have to listen to their okaasan more. She’s raising them on her own since their dad died before he even got to know that L/N-san was pregnant. She seemed to be longing for him whenever he’s mentioned.”

A crease appeared on the blonde's forehead as he was suddenly in deep thought. It couldn’t be, right?

“Uh, Sugawara-san, may I know the name of the mom? Her last name sounds kind of familiar.” he questions, pretending to be nonchalant but inside, he feels like he had his heart on his throat.

If it was you, he’d feel those things that he desperately tried to hide behind his confident jokes and laughs. 

The pain.

The pain that you chose someone else and was open enough to the idea of starting a family. If that guy probably hadn’t died, you’d be together, happily raising those boys he had just met a while ago. Happily married, something that Atsumu tried to mention one fleeting moment while you were together back in college but you immediately shut the idea down and left him a month later.

The pain that you fell in love in a span of moments unlike Atsumu who relentlessly tried to gain your favour and follow you around like a lost puppy.

“Oh, her name’s Y/N L/N.”

Thankfully nothing unexpected happened after what the twins did, they ended up having to pick if they wanted their video game rights removed for a week or cancel their plans with their favorite ojisan who was coming by a few weeks from now, they chose the first one on that.

They had even mentioned that they met the real Miya Atsumu and although you felt like your heart lurched out of your chest and your shoulders stiffen at the mention of that man --- their father---  they simply had called him a rude jiji like his brother much to your relief.

“L/N-san, we seem to have a problem.” Aiko frowned, handing the papers to you, “The director of the advertisement department wants a bigger budget, do you mind running it through him again? You have to go to the studio though, I heard they’re doing some photo shoot now.”

You nodded in reply, taking the papers from your co-worker. The studio was a bit far so you ended up having to commute to get there, “What a nuisance.” You muttered, you needed to buy a second-hand car soon when you had enough money. It would definitely be easier for both you and the boys, “Uh excuse me? Is Nakamura-san here?” you asked the secretary on the front desk.

“And who are you?” the secretary snapped back, still typing away on her computer.

“Y/N L/N from the finance department, I have to run through the new budget liquidation with him.”

The secretary one-eyes you and the ID on your neck for a split second, “You better be quick, the boss wants only five minutes per guest since he’s personally handling the shoot today.” was all she replied, handing you the pass. You muttered a quick thank you and made your way up to the studio, whoever the model was today, they must’ve been big for Nakamura to handle them personally.

“Oh-ho, is that who I think it is?” a very, very familiar voice calls out.

“Inunaki-san.” You greeted, trying to maintain yourself, were these the big clients that Nakamura was handling? The black jackals? good fucking gracious, god must hate you.

“Wow,” he shakes his head, feigning amusement, “You’re still so calm and cool.”

You narrowed your eyes at the insult but you waved it off, “And you’re playing for a national team, congratulations.” you replied in a blank tone, your senior probably knew what happened between you and his fellow member. You wouldn’t be the least bit surprised if he reacted the same way as Osamu did.

“We’re actually doing a shoot now, would you like me to call Atsu-”

“No.” your usual calm tone switched to a colder one, “I’m working now and so is Miya-san, please don’t bother yourself.”

“Gee,” he raised his hands, signalling defeat, “Just say you don’t want to see him. You don’t need to be so cold to me, my dear little kohai.”

“I have to go back to my job, I’m on the clock here.” You ignored his previous statement, “It was nice seeing you again Inunaki-san.”

Before you could give him a chance to reply, you headed towards the studio. You took a deep breath and mentally calculated to three.

one. 

It’s been six years, Miya Atsumu would ignore you. He wouldn’t care about the girl who left him out to dry in college. He’s got a girlfriend now, a model who has legs for days and looks ten times better than you and acts more like a girlfriend than you ever did.

two.

Yes, that’s right, he wouldn’t care.

three.

You entered the studio, you could feel the air tighten around you as soon as you heard that laughter. The one you used to hear everyday and never get tired of. For all the laughs you couldn’t do, he’d do it for you and boy, was he patient around you since you didn’t smile a lot back then (who were you kidding? until now you still had the same problem except when the kids were around)

You want to stop and stare, you want to admire him and his glory that you were very much proud of.

Yet your legs continue to carry you to your boss, the laughter seems to have ceased and you could hear someone asking him what was wrong.

“Oh, L/N-san?” Nakamura greeted you, “You’re here for the renewal of the budget?”

You nodded feverishly, your legs seem to be turning into jelly because you want to collapse from the nervousness and thank god that you wore some make-up before arriving here, otherwise, they would’ve noticed how pale you looked, “Everything seems to be in order,” He nods, scanning the sheets and handing them back to you, “Are you busy right now?”

You glanced at the wall clock, checking the time to see if you could extend your stay and Nakamura is quick to pick up on it, “Ah right, you’ve got kids to pick up. It’ll be quick, just help set up the blocks there and you’re free to leave.” he orders.

You nodded obediently and slowly turned to the side only to catch the very familiar chocolate brown eyes of the blonde. You feel your heart hammering in your chest and your feet turn cold, it had been six years since you last saw Miya Atsumu and he was still as winsome and exhilarating as he was back then.

You may have seen him a lot on television but seeing him, right here, a few feet away from you was different. Taking in a big gulp of air, you started working on the set-up as quickly as you could yet you could still feel his burning gaze remaining on you, “Tsum-tsum, lay off her will you.” came Inunaki Shion’s loud voice snaps him out of his daze.

Great, that little twat had to make an appearance.

“Y/N-san you should really say hi,” Inunaki teased as soon as you finish your set-up.

“Oh? You’re Y/N L/N?” the orange one gushed, quickly up on his feet, you recall him as Hinata Shoyou, Youta’s favorite orange-haired ninja, “Sugawara-san’s friend?” 

You hesitantly nodded, “Oh, you know her Sho-kun?” Shion asked, seemingly amused by it all.

“What are you all crowding here for, Hinata?” Another asked, peering in them closely. This one must’ve been Bokuto, another favorite of Yuuto.

“Sugawara-san’s friend! she’s the mother of those two boys in the training camp who had to go home early!” he suddenly turns to you and then grins, “Ne, ne, the boys really seem to want to attend one of those. Why don’t you allow them to join us-”

“Forget it, Hinata.” Atsumu suddenly speaks out, that warm voice that you were accustomed to seemed cold and menacing now, “She won’t allow it.”

Shion notices the tension between you two and when he’s about to usher the energetic duo away back to the dressing room along with the other members, you let out a quiet sigh and spoke out, “I was on my way to leave, please don’t bother yourselves.” You simply replied, you didn’t waver and stared at him dead in the eye, this could be the moment to end it all and cut ties with him officially, “I apologize for what I did back then, Miya-san. I should’ve told it to you in person. I offer my sincere congratulations to you for making it this far.”

The blonde clenched his jaw, it seemed like he wanted to say something to you yet when he realizes the usual calm and collected demeanor you're putting up, he decides against it and leaves you alone by storming away first.

Hinata and the guy named Bokuto looked at you --- completely puzzled and lost like a deer in the headlights --- before following the blonde, “You truly are in a whole ‘nuther level, Y/N.” Shion whistles, “Heard you’ve got two boys now though. Congrats, where's the poor bastard?”

You continue to watch the back of Atsumu Miya. Finally, it seemed like he’d left you alone and probably for good this time, “Gone, off to a better place.” was all you replied.

Inunaki notices the longing in your voice, a completely unfamiliar emotion he had never seen back then even when you and Atsumu were together. It seemed like you and Atsumu were both the poor bastards in the end.

Miya Atsumu sleeps alone that night.

He doesn’t call his girlfriend back despite the several missed calls, he doesn’t reply to the unanswered text of his brother and his teammates. All he feels is pain tonight, pain because of your very dry apology, pain because of your bland expression. Pain because you didn’t seem to care like that time six years ago.

He shuts his eyes tight and he feels as if he’s back in college, back to that winter night where he received that dreaded phone call from you after you disappeared from him. He remembered those days clearly, your apartment had been cleaned out and paid for, you weren’t answering him on social media, your phone line was also unresponsive and he couldn’t even call your family since you never mentioned anything about them at all.

You both may have been intimate for the past two years but when you disappeared, he had the frightening realization that he didn’t know you at all.

He didn’t want to push you out of your comfort zone, he wanted you to lead the relationship but right at that moment, he wished he pried just a bit since he was worried about you.

Then in the midst of his anxiety, it came, that phone call.

“Atsumu.” your usual calm voice filled his ears and he suddenly feels the weight of the world is removed from his shoulders, thank god you were okay.

“Y/N? Baby? Where are you?”

“Out.”

“Where outside exactly?” Miya Atsumu dryly asks, “It’s cold, you shouldn’t be out now and wandering about. Would you like me to pick you up-”

“I can’t do this anymore.” you suddenly cut him off and the line goes quiet. The blonde feels the world around him quiet down too when he hears those words that he wished he heard wrong.

“What’s, what’s wrong? Y/N, are you alright?” 

“I don’t know,” You mutter, “I’m just tired.”

“Tired of what exactly?”

“Of you, of us…”

“Y/N, are you saying what I think you’re saying?” 

“Yes.” Your voice remained dead calm as if you just hadn’t broken his heart in a million pieces that moment, “Let’s stop this here now, Atsumu. Let’s break-up.”

“That’s…” He tries to keep the mood light, praying that this is one of your dark jokes, “That’s not funny, Y/N.”

“It’s not supposed to be since it’s not a joke.”

Your response was curt as usual and he doesn’t know whats worse, the fact that you’re breaking up over the phone or the fact that your tone remains stable and the same.

“Y/N, don’t do this...Baby don’t do this over the phone.” His tone seemed desperate at this point, “I’m not stopping this until you tell me what's wrong between us, you have to give me something to work with Y/N. Is it something I did?”

“I don’t know.”

“What do you mean ya don’t know?” Atsumu started to raise his tone when he notices how unaffected you seem at the other line.Frustration slowly started to bubble in him, the accent turning thicker as he got angrier, “Y/N ya can’t just disappear out of the blue and call me one day and tell me you want to break up! Do you think I’m some sort of fling? Some one-night stand or fuck buddies? We’ve been together for two years, Y/N. Two whole fucking years, What’s wrong? Do you not love me anymore?”

“Yes.”

The line went dead silent again and he hates it, he doesn’t know what to say as his face contorts in sadness and confusion. 

“I don’t…” He starts to feel a lump grow on his throat when he hears how easy it was for you to say, he knew he was in love with you more than you were with him. Many had pointed out how dangerous and how painful it would be on his side in the end, he couldn’t believe it would hurt him this much, “ I don’t fucking believe you, say it right at my face. Where the hell are ya? Let’s talk this one out in person.”

“Don’t bother, I just don’t want to see you again.”

“Y/N you can’t just-”

“I can and I will.” You cut him off, your voice was growing more and more detached and he feels like he’s back to that moment two years ago where you didn’t spare him a glance and treated him like a scrub, he hears a hefty sigh on your side and the next few words is another bullet to his heart, “I’m sorry it had to end this way, Atsumu.”

“You…” he shakily replied, trying to mask his grief with a painful chuckle. He wants to be mad at you, he wants to yell at you but for some odd reason, he couldn’t bring himself to,  “Jesus christ, you really are something, Y/N. You just broke my heart over the the fucking phone and all you could do is say sorry?”

“Sorry.” you say, like a broken-record on repeat and he hates it. He hates how he feels like this was nothing for you.

“Don’t you dare say that again when you don’t mean it-” He spat and before he could finish what he had to say, the phone line went dead. He tried to call again but it seemed like you had used a payphone. Out of complete vexation, he hurls his phone right across the room towards the blue photo frame with the both of you in it.

The sound of broken glass shards and ragged breathing is the only thing heard in the quiet apartment.

It’s not even the peak of winter that night yet he feels so numb and cold.

taglist [closed]

@fortheloveofiwaizumi​ ;  @svtbitch ; @ryaaaax ; @kiyoomile ; @lovedanii @juno-multifandom ; @gyubit17 ; @saeranoppa ; @nixxona ; @kyomihann @shorttstackk ; @itsmattsunshinehere ; @missingmystogan​ ; @Etherynaw ; @volleybloop​ ; @imcravingyou​ ;

[firelord-frowny]

sad blah blah

almost unanimously, people have only ever said extraordinary or at least good things about me. anyone who’s ever seen me do anything, whether it’s writing related, music related, performance related in general, or intellect, no one has ever reacted to me with “meh.” 

i went to college on a talent based scholarship that i barely even had to apply for. literally, immediately after my audition, i somehow wound up mentioning that i had missed the deadline for the scholarship application or something. the entire panel of judges FLIPPED OUT and basically demanded that i go complete the application right away because they wanted me bad. 

in my first semester, we had to work with some local ~professional artists~ in baltimore and one of our assignments was to complete some sort of art project that explored the concept of ~refuse versus environment~ or something like that. We were supposed to complete it over the course of a week and then bring it to our next meeting with the artist. i did my project ON THE BUS while we were on our way to that meeting. I scribbled a few stream-of-consciousy paragraphs about... something lmao i don’t remember. but i read it out loud to my group and then the artist spent like a solid 15 minutes gushing about how ~in all his years of being an art professor at some of the most distinguished programs in the world, he’s never heard such an elegant and artful take on blah blah blah~. 

the president of my university???? asked me personally to come and perform at his home for fancy events with other Important People like donors and politicians and researchers??? and like. this man had a whole “60 Minutes” special about what a critical role he’s had in using education to strengthen communities. this man sat at tables with obama while he was in office. he paraded me around to other Important People and talked about what an outstanding artist i was, my sparkly personality, my ~delightful wackiness~, blah blah. 

Not one, not two, not three, but FOUR professors who were all world-class musicians at a festival i attended, singled me out as particularly gifted. the kinds of shit they were saying to me in front of everyone did not get said to anyone else. 

when i was at Tanglewood, even though i fucking sucked because i clearly hadn’t practiced all the music, all my chamber coaches STILL made sure to let me (and the other people in my groups???) know that i was the more skilled player in the ensembles. I wound up having to sit last chair at one of the concerts because there had been some miscommunication that led to the directors thinking i was leaving the program (i was super homesick and had been asking my parents to come get me), and despite that fact, after the concert, the conductor - who had never even spoken a word to me personally - made sure to hunt me down in the crowd as everyone was leaving, and tell me what an outstanding player he thought i was, and that he felt lucky to have had me in his orchestra. 

i spent a summer at Summit Chamber Music Festival in upstate new york. the skill level among the students ranged from Laughably Inept to Why Aren’t You At The Curtis Institute. I was by FAR not the worst player there, but I also definitely felt like I was nowhere near the best. But the program director specifically, deliberately placed me in the highest level orchestra, surrounded by players who were fully capable of playing shit like paganini and weiniawski and whatnot. When he wanted to put together a small chamber group, he pointedly selected me to play 1st chair. My string quintet included 3 other string players who were lightyears better than me. Yet our coach frequently turned to me to demonstrate the ~right way~ to play a lot of the more difficult passages. And like... I was the 2nd violinist lmao. It’s almost aallllways the 1st violinist that coaches will ask to demonstrate stuff for the rest of the group. but he asked me. every time. our quintet was ultimately selected to close out the entire festival, a la Saving The Best For Last. The pianist in my quintet, according to his mom, thought i was incredible. this pianist was a bona fide prodigy and he thought i was incredible.

LITERALLYYYYYY everywhere I’ve ever performed, everyone has been so impressed with me. directors of major musical organizations have always made a point to get my name and contact info because “we’ll definitely be contacting you for more work.”  

Everyone who’s ever seen me teach violin thinks I’m uncommonly good at it. i mean, i’m no galamian, duh, but apparently i’m able to get students to sound better than the average teacher can.  

everyone who read my first screenplay claimed to be floored by it. i spontaneously read some of my prose at an open mic night and uh, accidentally snatched the show right out from under the featured artists' feet. 

I used to act???? and was pretty fucking good at it?? I starred in a small handful of local plays? i was cast in ~large roles~ in everything i ever auditioned for. 

my talents in visual art are decidedly Well Above Average. 

i have such a fucking long list of things people think are outstanding about me, and an incredibly long list of people who have bothered to tell me that i’m outstanding, and it makes me feel so fucking sad and frustrated bc like....

lmao why the fuuuUUUUCCCKKKKK does it continue to be so difficult to find anyone who feels like giving me any legit career opportunities?? Even when they’re aware that i’m available?? and willing?? 

i’ll have a 10 minute conversation in which a professor or a director or a coordinator is telling me all about how impressed they are by my skills at Whatever, and how i should do This and i should do That and i should go Here and i should go There and then they ask me where i’m currently working/what i’m currently doing, and i say, “oh, you know, mostly freelance gigs and lessons as i’m looking for full time opportunities,” and then they say “cool! good luck!” and leave. 

i feel sad and confused and delusional. if im so fucking great, why aren’t people reaching back when i reach out in search of a means to earn a fucking living?? 

i know the short answer is that i still don’t ~put myself out there~ and i give up too easily. but also like... i have BEEN out there. the total positive experiences i’ve had with influential superiors over the years have been plentiful and frequent enough that SOMEBODY should have wanted me to contribute something substantial to whatever programs they represent.

and since i feel like i must be delusional and that i must not actually be such hot shit and that everyone is lying to me to spare my feelings, it makes me not even want to try harder bc i’ll wind up discovering for certain that everyone thinks i’m trash. 

what do i have to doooooooo to find The Right Opportunity other than reach out to the same people who told me how phenomenal i am? i make sure Potential Employers see/hear me being fantastic. i apply for jobs in their organization if i know they’re hiring. if i know they’re not hiring, i at least convey that i’d be interested in possibly working with them. but nobody reaches back.

i’m so good at things and i feel like a fucking deadbeat loser lmaoooooo

maybe they don’t actually know that i’m fucking jobless??? lmao maybe they’re assuming that i must already be active in a real career? maybe i need to literally TELL them as they’re praising me, “i’m unemployed and i need a job, do you know of any full time opportunities you could point me to?” but i feel like people think it’s a ~red flag~ when a potential employee doesn’t already have a steady job??? but also... how the fuck is anyone ever supposed to get a steady job if nobody’s willing to hire them because they don’t have a steady job???

i feel Stupid and i think that whenever i finally get the fucking resolve to start therapy again, i’m gonna just show this whole ass rant to my therapist. 

[abloomntime]

A Bloom In Time Ch24 Accidential New Star

(I had to look up the prices and what the bill document said to get this right.)

Dead Bird Studios.

The place where for YEARS had been the birthplace of creativity and actors on the big screen. And now she was standing right in front of it. The others didn't look so fazed at the big building considering they had been there multiple times before but that didn't stop her from staring up in fascination at it all. It. WAS. HUGE!! WAY bigger than those tall buildings back on the moon. A giant logo sign of a black bird skull and film real decorated the outside on the big front there with the giant words under it reading DEAD BIRD STUDIOS. A parking lot stood between them and the entrance and they were already walking across it towards the entrance. To the far left of them, they could all see a bunch more of those cars parked into the rectangular spaced, not that Poppy was paying attention as they marched across in the hot sun beating down on them all. Poppy would be lying if she wasn't impressed, as she subconciously walked after the small group still walking, the shadow of the building fell over her and she involuntarily sighed feeling the harsh rays of the sun gone for a moment. Still following along after them up to the double doors of the building. The grown lady flinched when they opened on their own as soon as Cookie got near it and mumbled grumpily to herself about forgetting her purse and having to walk all the way back here on her day off of all things helping out and how it was so rude of her to make them all take this detour. Not that anyone minded as the children excitedly ran in past them inside. Poppy glanced wearily at the doors for a moment while passing, jumping a foot forward when it closed by themselves, blue eyes glanced between it and Cookie for a moment before following after the mumbling cat. The long hallway was pretty dark with a black carpet with bird skull patterns with lots of white squares lights barely lighting up the place. With a whoosh noise the doors up ahead opened on their own accord and the three children ran on through and into what looked like a well lit room. As they continued to persue the children down the rest of the hall she thought she heard some squeals of delight but she wasn't too sure yet. When she finally approuched the double pair of doors, they opened again with a whoosh for Cookie and Poppy flinched again...Before blinking and sticking her head into the lit room. A giant white Television set(computor) was sat on the counter which was the first thing she saw, and shiny marble floors reflected the bright lights above. There was a tired looking bird manning the counter as he calmly watched everything around him. Next to him was some kind of giant piece of heavy looking machinery, and as Poppy finally stepped in, she gawked at the sight of GIANT glass cases on either side of the room with shiny copies of trouphies safely sat inside with names of old movie directors of years past. But those only held her attention for a moment, above the trophies on either side were giant framed posters. On the right with a few penguins gathered was a strange looking instrument in disco lights, a ...slime monster??, and some penguin in an astronaut suit. To the right was a more western style of two seperate birds holding guns and a random cactus. Two doors were on either side and two signs by them each saying FILMING IN PROGRESS.

"DARLING!! You're back so soon?," A loud voice boomed out and Poppy yelped dropping her bags of clothing on the floor.

Who the voice belongs to was another moon penguin...But this one looked TOTALLY different from any other penguin she's seen before. He wore a ridiculous outfit with weirder shoes on his feet making him taller than the other penguins by a few inches, and he actually had hair and yellow eye brows styled up into some kind of weirder haircut, and last but certainly not least a giant pair of all black shaped sunglasses over his eyes. His beak was curled up in a smile as he approuched from the small crowd of three girls tailing after him as Cookie walked over to him.

"I wasn't expecting my best best network star to return so soon," he happily addressed her earning him a few embarrassed chuckles.

"Not exactly planned. I uh...Forgot my purse on set again and needed to run in and grab it. Can't exactly feed a bunch of hungry children without it now can I? H-How's the movie auditions so far?"

The penguin sighed and reached a flipper up to his forehead. "Easier said than done. There's the part of the wicked family who still need spaces filled in place, and the handsome prince, not to mention that I still have no one to play the concerned father and we only have a few months to put this together! I can't describe how much pressure I'm feeling..But I have a good feeling that this year will be in our favor for sure!"

Cookie smiled brightly. "Oh, I'm sure you'll find the perfect people to fill those roles soon. You always manage to pull off a wonderful display."

"*sigh* I sure hope so, Dear. I'd hate to have nothing to present for my efforts." His gaze turned up once he noticed movement by the doors as Poppy reached back down to pick her bags back up. "And I see you brought a new friend!" Poppy paused as she was approuched by the eccentric looking fella. "Why HELLO there, Darling! I don't believe we've met!"

"Uh..." Poppy had to blink to actually make sure she was seeing who she was actually seeing before shaking her head and standing up, giving a politely smile. "Howdy! I don't think we've met actually."

The penguin chuckled and shook his head. "We didn't and I never forget a pretty face, Darling. And who might you be?"

"I'm those two's temporarily babysitter," she answered pointed at two of the three children huddled by his side. "Until I can get back on mah feet that is. Kinda starting from scratch after a crazy wake up call."

"Well, it's an honor to meet you Darling." His whole being radiated positivity and his voice despite being loud was very welcoming, making Poppy smile brightly, "I take it this is your first time at a studio?"

She smiled a bit shyly. "I-Is it that obvious? hehe" She reached up to rub the back of her neck. "Uh...Y-Yeah. Do you work here?"

At this the penguin and Cookie shared a chuckle before he spoke. "Well, I should hope so. Or else my name isn't DJ Grooves."

Grooves?....DJ Grooves? As in THE Mr. Grooves Cookie had spoken about before? OH! He must've been the director she spot about earlier, that would've explained the way he dressed. This guy was a walking fat cat with deep pockets, but he looked rather friendly and cheerful to her. And not to brag, but she did have a good judge of character usually.

"OH! So YOU'RE this Mr. Grooves I've heard so much about."

He chuckled. "So you heard a lot about me? I'm flattered, Darling. Really I am-" He was interrupted when a rumble sounded out and Poppy grabbed at her stomach embarrased. "...Oh my, my, my. Hungry are we?"

"I haven't eaten since breakfast and we've been running around all day."

"Well, then I better get back there and find that darned thing." Cookie turned to Mr. Grooves with a smile. "Ya'll don't mind if I just run to the back real quick like and grab it do you?"

"Not at all, Darling. Be my guest." Cookie smiled and without another word turned and ran off towards the door on the fair right of the room. The giant thing creaked open and closed behind her as she disappeared into the area behind it. Poppy watched her go behind sighing and stretching out her back from the now uncomfortable weight of the heavy used farm equipment on her, but her attention went back to Mr. Grooves when he pointed towards the counter and spoke again. "Darling, if you want you can just place these bags right on over there with the other random things we brought in today. You look redder than an apple on the sun."

She nodded yes reaching up a hand to wipe at her face. "I feel like a baked apple too. ...Ya sure you don't mind?"

"Not at all, Darling. Not at all. Why don't you go do that and I'll have one of my assistants bring you out a glass."

"Well, if you're really sure."

She smiled and lugged her way over to the counter by the crate and weird machine thing. Placing the bags down by the crate, she shimmied the golf club bag of farming tools off her shoulders and into her hands, leaning them all carefully against the big ol' machine thing next to them. Sighing that her back didn't have weight on it anymore she stretched it out making her back pop. A few giggles made her look back over towards the small group of girls around the penguin. Bow was still pouting looking down at the clothes in disgust but looked up when the penguin adjusted the sunhat on her head, she looked up at him and Mr. Grooves said something to her. Poppy couldn't hear exactly what he said but it put a smile on Bow's face and he patted her head with a flipper. A smile returning to her face at the cute scene in front of her. A small creaking noise came from her left, and Poppy didn't notice the expensive camera starting to lean from the weight of her tools.

BAM!!

A loud bang filled the room but strangely enough, barely anyone flinched or looked up from it. As if used to hearing large booming noises in the studio. The only ones who reacted was Mr. Grooves, the girls, and Poppy. Poppy all but jumped out of her skin backing against the counter and whirling towards the source of the sound, the girls seemed to flinch, and Mr. Grooves only casually looked over towards the left side of the studio. There the other giant pair of double doors had been kicked open and slammed into the walls, a moment later a very angry......Yellow owl?? Stomped out and behind him followed some regular Express Owls holding various items or just following. .....Wat? Poppy had to blink as the small whatever he was stomped over near to where she was standing and starting barking demands all of a sudden.

"You three grab the bloody camera and make sure ye pecknecks keep a tight grip on it! I nae need me raw footage damaged in anyway!" His head turned as he barked orders to the owls who jumped and nodded at their bosses demands. "Good! Can't count on you all to do anything without me tellin' ye to cannae?"

Well THAT was rude. Poppy frowned at the rude little whatever he was and still didn't notice the large machine next to her lean over even more. Neither Poppy, the owls, or whoever this small yellow guy was(who was still yelling at the poor owls through all of this might I add) noticed the heavy duty camera leaning over or the glamerous penguin waltz on over towards him with a smile until they all reacted at his voice. The owls stopping, the yellow bird thing freezing for a few seconds, his fist shaking and slowly closing into fists, and his head snapping to peer over his shoulder, and Poppy looking over blinking.

"Conductor, Darling. You mustn't be so loud. It disturbs the peace and scares potential clients away," Mr. Grooves calmly spoke to this person. "You know I'm still expecting others to answer my casting calls."

Wait. Didn't Cookie also mention a Conductor? Huh. So this must be him. Not gonna lie, not a good first impression to her if she said so herself. Conductor huffed and turned his whole body turned to completely face the calm moon penguin now.

"Tis NAE of your business ye no good puffy haired peckneck!!," Conductor shouted while pointing a hand at Mr. Grooves. He was loud enough to make Poppy wince. "Why don't ye badger off and leave me to my worrrrrk!!"

"Darling, I would love nothing MORE than to leave you alone undisturbed," Mr. Grooves insisted calmly holding up his flippers, "All I ask is that you don't make such a ruckus in the lobby so my interviewers don't get scared off."

"HA!! Ye still going on 'bout that nonsense! Like anyone would rrrreally want to be in some techno sore to the eyes picture like yours!"

"Well that's not true at all. I have a gentlemen coming in tomorrow to see for the part of the Father in my little play. "

"HA!! The third one in a row? By this rate, ye won't be able to show ye face at the Award Ceremony for judging!" He smiled this time and crossed his arms.

"Now, now. There's still lots of time. And I'm going for something far more simple this year. A little change of style but still fabulous if I do say so myself."

"HMPH!! Well I say ye are full of birdseed if you think you have an inch of chance as usually! Another second place trophy would be more fitted! AHAHAHA!!"

Poppy could feel herself frowning at his words. Well that was really uncalled fore especially since Mr. Grooves wasn't being rude at all back or making a big scene like Conductor was. CREAAAAAAAAAAKKKK!! Hey...What was that creaking sound? Or was her ears ringing from the earlier screaming.

"Ye should give up now and save ye some trouble! With me raw footage it's surrrre to be in me favor."

CRREEEEEEEEEEEEE-

A giant creaking sound echoed out in a black blur as the giant camera leaned over and tipped. Owls hooted in fear as they scrambled out of the way as all eyes looked over and it seemed time slowed down as it went down, down, down- .....With a loud crash glass and pieces of metal shattered and flew everywhere. On instinct everyone close enough held up their arms and looked away from the shatter, but it was too late. Time slowed down as the camera shattered beyond repair and lots of metal clangs and sounds followed the disaster until it all finally settled piece by piece in front of them all on the floor. Destroyed camera and farming tools splayed on top of it. Everyone stood in shock staring down at the absolutely DESTROYED piece of machinery but that wasn't the last of it. A few sparks from the top of the camera shot out .....and then just a tiny spark of flame appeared. Well that tiny flame was enough to send some panic througout everyone there as owls sqawked and gasped back at the sight of the small flame which slowly started to grow causing everone else to get mildly panicked.

"SOME DARLIN' GET A FIRE EXSTINGISHER!!," Mr. Grooves yelled one flipper going up behind him to push back the small group of children behind him.

"STAND BACK!!"

In a fury of feather and blur, a white streak of foam shot out from some random direction and slammed into the flames, successfully putting out the flames with a sizzling sound by none other than the receptionist. The bird who was behind the counter wasn't finished yet as he continued to spray the camera and part of her tools down until it was all white like snow had piled on it and he stopped. Everyone remained in their tense pose for a long while staring at the camera...before some sighed in relief as did Poppy. Well that was certainly a surprise wasn't it? ...But not a very pleasant one by SOMEONE'S standards.

"MY MOVIE!!," Conductor cried recieving all eyes on his as his hands reached up to grab those feathery parts of his head staring dead at the camera in horror. "ALL ME HARD WORKED RRRRRRAW FOOTAGE IS GONE!!! .....AH!! YOU!!" His horror quickly shifted to anger when he snapped towards the fightened owls with an accusing tone. "YOU NO GOOD......FEATHER BRAINED....PPPPPPPEEEEECCKKNNEEEEEECKSSSS!! I TOLD YE TO BE CAREFULL!! NOW LOOK AT WHAT YE DONE TA ME HARRRD WORK!! WAT AM I SUPPOSED TO DO WITH A BLOODY SHATTERED MESS MADE BY BUBBLING BAFOONS?!"

The owls all froze at their bosses torment as Grooves turned around to ask the little girls if they were alright and Poppy stared. Watching as Conductor continued to shout as he blamed the poor owls for the mess....Blue eyes blinked down to the farming tools laid upon the floor. HER mess. The one she made-

Red eyes and shadows stared at her frightened form as a voice hissed. "Take her to the room and lock her away. ...I can't to look at her for as my prince had done. Perhaps locking away her forever will teach her a lesson about gazing into another man's eyes who belong TO ME!!"

"STOP!! JUST STOP IT WAS MY FAULT!!!"

Blue eyes snapped open at the yell. The yell that made everyone freeze and look at the red head who looked just as shocked and surprised as everyone else at her sudden outburst, but the Conductor wasn't yelling at the owls anymore. Despite him not having eyes, she could still tell he was staring right at her along with everyone else around her in more stunned silence as nobody spole.

".......Wot?"

"So YOU'RE the one responsible for this?," the tallest bird from the counter spoke putting down the fire extingisher and crossed his arms with a frown making Poppy flinch.

Poppy stared at him for a moment but seeing one poor worried looking owl behind him, made her frown before taking a deep inhale...and nodding towards the receptionist without hesitation. "That's right! One hundred peckin' percent!" She boldly pointed to the half foam covered tools by now. "Those are mah tools and it's mah fault the giant whatcha-ma-callit thing fell over 'n broke! Not anyone else's! So don't be yelling at anyone!"

The receptionist stood there for a moment staring at her before reaching into his back pocket and pulling out a pen and piece of paper. "Are you willing to pay for the damages? If you chose to claim the damages that is."

She nodded again without hesitation. "I am!"

"Alright." The paper had the same bird skull logo and Dead Bird Studios in bold red words. "Where do you live, Ma'am?"

"Uh...."

"With us!," Hattie piped up.

"Alright." Under the words 'Billing Details' he wrote Red Head Human Woman and the adress Spaceship in the sky 1 6829 this planet, Invoice #: (insert random Owl Express Numbers), Invoice Date: Today, and Currency: Pons. After studying it for a bit he looked back down to the damaged thing with a hum. "Let's see. There was film so that counts under 'Distruping Studio Recordings' which comes to one hundred thousand pons." He wrote under the words 'You Will Be Billed For' as he spoke and looked at the damages caused. "One count of 'Penguin Harrassment' which is five hundred pons. Five cases of 'Owl Harrassment' for two thousand five hundred pons. 'Destruction of Property' oh definately for three thousand. And 'Tresspassing' for seven thousand."

Poppy could only stand there and let her eyes grow and widen in shock at the claims and how much pons this guy claimed she owed for such lunacy. ".......Tresspassing and harassment!? Of what kind?! I wasn't tresspassin' if I was invited in here!! And I wasn't harassing anyone!!''

"Ma'am. I'm only doing my job handling paperwork, and our insurance doesn't cover humans. The moment you stepped on property you became a liability and responisble for paying for any destruction you caused," he explained calmly as if he did this every day. He wrote one other thing down on the paper before holding it out for her. "You owe us one hundred thirteen thousand pons plus tax and another seven hundred fifty for the expensive high defintion camera to be replaced."

Poppy could only stare and not move at the paper held out to her with wide eyes and an open jaw like there was another cursed statue in front of her. After a moment, the recptionist carefully and calmly put the large bill in her hand and she finally reacted to the movement. with anger and a scowl. "WHY IS THIS SO EXPENSIVE!? I couldn't afford this even if I suddenly turned into solid gold like that roach did!!"

"Like I said, Ma'am. I'm only doing my job. If you like I could call the local court house of law, the lawyers there can assure you the paperwork and damages are all legal."

"Well I still can't PAY for it!.....What if I work off the debt instead? I'm a hard worker I promise."

"Well.....it wouldn't be the first time someone worked it off. But you'll have to speak with the two big bosses about it, not me I'm afraid."

"And they would be?"

"ME!!" She jumped and nearly dropped the paper when the Conductor scowled up at her with anger. "That was MY movie ye destrrrroyed with yer no good foolishness! If ye are gonna work it away ye better be ready to receive some hard work thrown at ye from meself!!''

".......No."

Silence. You could hear a pin drop as everyone in the studio of hearing range completely stopped what they were doing and turned their attention towards the scene before them with wide eyes. Completely shocked into silence as they all stared at the human alike. Penguins, Express Owls, the two children, and even both the directors seemed to be shocked into the dumb silence as they all gawked at the frowning red haired lady staring at the Conductor. THE CONDUCTOR!! NO ONE BUT DJ GROOVES HAD EVER SAID NO TO THE CONDUCTOR BEFORE!! (except Hattie that one time in the basement but we don't talk about that not that anyone outside of the little girl, and a few of her friends knew) But now it seemed everyone was too shocked seeing a new person say no to the famously hot headed owl. One owl staring completely let the script she was holding fall from her hands and land scattered at her feet as everyone watched jaws dropped. Eventually Confuctor was the one to break the awkward silence by what else, his famous yeling. "WOT!?," he shouted and stared at her. "An' why not?! Ye are the one who cost me mah raw footage! That was ten days of haarrrrrrd work I ain't nah gettin' back, Las!" The red head crossed her arms and didn't change her expression. "I know and I am terribly sorry I caused you so much trouble in that department. But I refuse to work with someone so rude and treats the employee's who's workin' hard trying to help him by calling them useless! Obviously you're a terrible boss who treats anyone helping him with no respect, and I would feel terrible! Being in one of your movies knowing that, Sir." The girls exchange silent shocked glances behind Poppy as she turned her head towards the damaged camera. "....If it's the material that I damaged I would gladly pay in anyway I can. But only on the basis you apologise to those you've wronged, Mr. Conductor. But don't you go thinkin' I'll do anything before I know I'll be treated with respect!" Conductor's. Jaw. DROPPED!! Obviously not used to anyone other than that ridiculous long time rival of his speaking to HIM. HIM!!! In such a brass and demanding manner and it took a moment for him to even process what she just said but in a moment his temper flared up in a moment's notice as those feathery appendages on his head wriggled and he pointed at the penguin director as the other fist clenched into a fist as he demanded. Mr. Grooves blinking surprised at the sudden action "Bu-Bu-Bu-BUT WHAT COULD BE SOOOO SPECIAL ABOUT 'EM DOWN RIGHT EYE SORE OF A SO CALLED MOVIE!? YE GARBAGE NEVER COULD GET OFF YE GROUND IF DJ GRRRRRROOOOVES HAD ALL ETERNITY AND BECAME PRRRRRRESIDENT OF YE BOX OFFICE!!" "That's not true! I actually saw one of his movies myself." "YE DID WOT!?" "You ...did?," Grooves shifted his funny glasses wearing face up towards her just as confused as the angry owl man. Poppy nodded. "Yes. I. Did. And to be perfectly honest, I didn't think it was that bad. In fact, it was really interesting. Maybe not the 'best' by bird standards, but by human standards the story was really easy to understand for someone who honestly doesn't really know a whole darn lot 'bout these fancy lights, or high tech stuff, or..." She waved a hand off shrugging. "Or whatever ratings are. And a struggling career was relatable for someone who's been struggling with a lot happening." Conductor was sputtering and made some kind of funny bird sqawking noise before some of the feathers around his collar ruffled up in rage and he jabbed a thumb at himself. "WELL MAH MOVIES ARE NOTHIN' TO SHY FROM EITHER, LASSIE!! RRRRESPECTIVELY THAT AYE AM THE ONE TO MAKE IT ON TOP ALL YE TIME!!" Her face frowned again as she looked down at the older bird with a harsher scowl. "MY respect, SIR, is earned. Not GIVEN! And so far you've done absolutely NOTHING to earn it! Yelling like a baby who didn't get their candy and throwing a fit is not the way to do that! You just come off to me as a spoiled old man who doesn't know the word no even existed!" "WHAT'S SO SPECIAL ABOUT THE BLOODY PECKNECK ANYWAYS!?," He demanded fuming. "If you can't respect him as your rival then the least you could do is respect him as another person in your profession. As far as I've seen he's been nothin' but polite and kind to everyone and considering he's not in mah face yellin' like a baby bird for his mama is somethin' I respect." With a huff of that sass Snatcher would've loved to see she closed her eyes, and turned her head away with her nose stuck up. "I will start RESPECTING you as an adult when you ACT like one and apologize and decide to stop throwing a tantrum and embarrassing yourself! Because the truth be told I think YOU'RE the only peckneck in this studio." More silence settled around the entire place as Conductor dropped his jaw and the only sound that came out of him was something that sounded like 'A-Ah...ah..ah ah ah.....' in a stuttery way. Hattie's eyes were wide and Bow's hands had come to cover her mouth in a dramatic way. If Snatcher was there, Hattie would have no doubt he would've started laughing loudly at the look on the old bird's face. In fact, she could almost hear it now. A deep rumbling chuckle-....But wait. Snatcher's voice wasn't deep? It was high and raspy. Then who was-... A cold flipper patted Poppy on the back making her hum and look next to her to find the afro wearing penguin chuckling...before laughing a deep but loud laugh that filled the room with an almost joyful mood. That seemed to snap the Conductor from his trance and glared in the laughing penguin's direction. After a moment, Mr. Grooves stopped and turned his gaze up to Poppy with a smile. "Darling! I never could've said that any better than how you did!" He patted her back again. "You know. I like you already, Darling. My little stars usually have great taste in character and I see they didn't spare any expense in making another darling friend. What did you say your name was again?" ......She blinked but smiled at the happy moon penguin politely. "Poppy Rose Bloomington. You can call me Poppy, Mr. Grooves." Grooves hummed for a moment looking at her up and down for a moment before turning to the glaring Conductor and the broken camera lying a few feet away in pieces. "Was that footage really that important to you Conductor, Darlin'?" "OF COURSE IT WAS YOU PE-" "There's children here." Conductor's feathery appendeges went back as he growled. "YES! It was half me movie! It cannae be so simply replaced with the secret idea I was goin' for! All the time I spent on it cannae be replaced in time of the award ceremony!" The penguin hummed and brought his other flipper up to rub the bottom of his beak staring at the camera with a thoughtful expression...before looking back up to Poppy. "I'm afraid he's right, Darlin. I've known Conductor long enough to know one thing he never does is lie about his movies, even if he does brag while doing so in such a rude manor." "HMPH!! OF COURSE I DONAE!!" Grooves just rolled his eyes. "Even so, I think we should help him." "YE WOT!?" Conductor glanced surprised at the penguin like he won the trophy all of a sudden. "What kind of nonsense are ye blabbering about now?" Grooves turned to him staring, before tilting his head down wear his sunglass slid down enough to reveal some of his eyes in a deadpanned expression. "Believe it or not, Darling, I don't like unfair advantages." Conductor just stared blankly at him. " But I'm sure my little stars here could help out with anything you may need." Bow lit up with a smile. "Yeah! I'd love to help!" "Don't you have a back up plan like you usually do?" "Of course Ah do! I ain't no dummy." "Well, there you go, Darling." He reached up to push his glasses back into place. "I'm sure you'll put together something spectacular like you always do." "......B-B-But..What are the damages!? Ye camera cost the studio over a thousand pons! I cannae just look past that!," he argued back pointing at the shattered thing. And Grooves hummed again. "I'm afraid you're right about that too. Frankly, these kinds of ones aren't too easily to come across."........In a moment he smiled and looked up to Poppy. "I know! She can work for me as payment for those damages." Poppy blinked with a surprised expression as did most of everyone else but at the thought of Poppy being in a movies both young girls suddenly looked even more excited. Conductor on the other hand- "ABABABABABA!! Hang on a pecking second! THE LASS WORK FOR YE FOR DAMAGING MAH FILM?!" "I-I AM?!," Poppy asked whirling wide eyed to the moon penguin director. "Yes. Cuz quick frankly it might've been your film, but it was on OUR shared expensive studio high definition camera, Darling. She can easily pay off any debt she owes for the camera and your footage by working and her pay going to the repairs and reienbursment for any misguided accidents." The Conductor growled again and went to probably argue some more- "Tick tock, Darling. You don't want to waste anytime fighting when there's a deadline to meet. It looks like you'll be needing to step up your game." "MMMMMMMMMMMMMMM!!! FINE!!" The tiny bird man turned and began stomping away towards the owl's side of the studio. "WHAT ARE ALL YE LOOKING AT!? SOMEONE BRING ME MAH BACK UP SCRIPT!! CHANGE THE SETS TO OUTSIDE SCHEDUALED!! SOMEONE INFORRRRRRM THE OTHER'S WE'RE GOIN' WITH PLAN B THIS YEAR!!! AND SOMEONE GET THAT SMASHED HUNK O' JUNK CLEANED UP!!" The owl's scrambled to grab anything they needed to grab and quickly follow the fuming bird boss as DJ Grooves chuckled and shook is head. "Don't feel too bad about the Conductor, Darling. He's usually all talk and no bite." Hattie giggled. "Yeah! He's a crazy, grumpy grandpa!" Both Grooves and Bow chuckled at Hattie's description of the old bird, but none of them noticed frozen and mildly panicked form. Her?! In a movie?! Where millions of people could see her?! WHAT HAD SHE GOTTEN HERSELF INTO NOW?!

[isolemnlyswearpevensie]

1980s Horror Film | Peter Pevensie x Reader

Warnings: None

Time/Era: Modern AU, Young Adult/Late College

Word Count: 1.7k 

Summary: Y/N is a film student who has to take a science credit last minute to graduate. Naturally, she picks the easiest sounding one, nutrition. She didn’t expect the tough workload and she definitely didn’t expect the cute TA.

Request: Could I please request a peter x reader story where it’s after peter has moved to America and he meets the reader at his college where she’s the bubbly, fun and popular American girl and he’s a TA in one of her classes and he takes her on a cute date after they meet during tutoring and he tries to impress her and it’s just fluff💕 no worries if not and thank you for being such a good writer❤️❤️

A/N: I hope you enjoy! Thanks for the request! Let me know what you think. I changed the time a little bit because tbh I have absolutely no idea what it was like to be in college in the ’40s. I hope that’s alright. :)

masterlist  | read on ao3

“Hello everyone! Thanks for coming, my name is Peter Pevensie and I’m the TA for Professor Kirke’s nutrition class. I know he has a lot of assignments listed on the syllabus, but that’s why I’m here.” Peter stood in front of the small group of students that showed up to his tutoring session. He was expecting more to show up, considering Professor Kirke was a hard grader and didn’t really teach the material, but the turnout was still great. 

“How much of it do we have to do to pass? Like, realistically?” Y/N asked. There was no way she was going to do the amount of work assigned, especially since the class didn’t line up with her major.

“Well, that depends on what you want to do with the material. In my opinion, you should do all of it because the information is important to know,” He sat back in his chair and grinned at the girl, crossing his arms over his chest. It was obvious she didn’t want to be there and really couldn’t care less about the class. “But, to answer your question, just do the biggest assignments and ace the tests. That should put you at about 75% if you get all the points.” 

“So, basically, all of the reports that sound like it’ll take hours? Great, love that for me.” Y/N responded in an aggravated tone. 

The students around her seemed to take in everything Peter was saying, taking notes and giving him their full attention. They were all likely either sports medicine, health, and biology majors, or various or in various other STEM programs. 

Y/N, on the other hand, let her mind wander to the horror film she was directing for her senior project. She was just a semester away from graduating with an undergraduate degree in film and was so close to fulfilling her life long dream of being a horror film director. The project she was writing now was heavily inspired by her favorite film, The Shining. 

Throughout the condensed lecture Peter gave, he kept glancing at the grumpy looking girl at the back of the classroom. It was obvious she wasn’t paying attention; she had her earbuds in and was doodling on an old receipt from the Subway on campus. Nonetheless, he continued helping the students who were engaged but kept the strange girl in the back of his mind. 

Y/N allowed her mind to fall back to her surroundings when Peter leaned against the table she was sitting at and pulled an earbud out of her ear. It seemed as though everyone was gone, and the tutoring session was over. 

“So, what’s your deal?” Peter asks, looking down at his student and her drawings. 

“My deal? What do you mean?”

“You obviously don’t care about how carbohydrates affect muscle mass and energy supply. So, why are you taking this class? And from Dr. Kirke, of all people?” His hands gripped the desk at either side of his thigh, preventing it from moving under his weight. 

“Well, I needed an easy science class and it was between this class or geology. I figured at least nutrition was somewhat useful to my life,” Y/N closed her laptop and put it into her bag. “I didn’t realize the workload and I get extra credit for coming to these things.” “So, what is it that your field of study if you’re not in STEM, then?” 

“Film. I’m the one doing the response to The Shining piece, I’m sure you’ve seen my casting flyers around campus.” 

“Ah, right, Y/N L/N. I think you’re friends with my younger sister, Susan.” A look of realization came over Y/N’s face. 

“Oh! I knew your name sounded familiar!” Y/N grew more comfortable instantly. “Don’t tell her I shrugged your tutoring session off, she’d have my neck for being rude.” 

Peter laughed warmly, shaking his head. “Wouldn’t dream of it, no one deserves Susan’s wrath.” 

Y/N crumbled the subway receipt in her hand and stood, slinging her bag over her shoulder and pushing her chair in. “I guess I better go, I’m sure you have better things to do than hang after.” 

“I better get going, too. See you next Tuesday night for the next tutoring session?” 

“I’ll see if I feel like it.” Y/N winked and walked out of the room. 

~

“No receipt drawing this week?” Peter asked, feigning disappointment. Tutoring had ended, and Y/N was still sitting at the last table. 

“Oh shit, is the hour up already?” Y/N looked around the space to see it empty. Her cheeks turned a bit red and she glanced back up at her tutor. 

“Yeah, you really gotta pay attention, L/N.” His tone was playful as he took the same position he was in the week prior. 

“Why? You want me to stare at you for an hour?” Peter was taken aback by Y/N’s sudden flirty tone, unsure if he should reciprocate. 

“Uh, I meant- well. I meant that since this is to help you get a better grade and all, you should pay attention.” 

“So it has nothing to do with the fact you stare at me the entire time?” 

“You sit in the exact middle of the room! I don’t try to!” He rubbed at the back of his neck, flustered. He wasn’t used to feeling flustered; he was usually the one who made other people react. This made Y/N smirk a little. 

“Mmhm, I totally believe you.” 

~

“Yes, I know, class is over.” Y/N said, noticing Peter walking towards her. 

“Oh, so now you pay attention? Since when?” He had a granola bar in his hand, absentmindedly taking bites every minute or so. 

“Since I found out you’ve been asking Susan about me.” Peter choked. “Yeah, that’s right, Britt Boy. Your sister snitched on you.” 

“I asked her about your film ONCE.” Peter took his regular place as she stood up. 

“You could have, ya know, asked me.” Y/N held an amused facial expression, watching him try to regain his composure. 

“Well, I have no way to contact you, besides this tutoring time. Time in which you don’t even interact, might I add.” 

“Well,” Y/N pushed a long piece of paper into his palm. “It seems like you do now.” 

Y/N walked out of the building, leaving Peter wondering what the piece of paper was. Upon further inspection, Peter discovered it was a Subway receipt with a phone number scribbled on the bottom. 

~

Are you free after tutoring on Tuesday? Y/N’s phone buzzed with a text from an unknown number. 

Depends on who’s asking, really. She typed back. Obviously, it was Peter, but he couldn’t know that she knew that. 

What if it was the TA? Is that weird? 

Nah, and yes, I’m free. Y/N’s stomach filled with butterflies. He was extremely attractive; soft sandy hair, strong arms that are defined by his sleeves, and a slightly cocky demeanor. Definitely the type of man she could see herself dating.

Good, prepare for an outing 

Ooh, an outing. So fancy. I’ll bring my coat, Mr. TA man

~

“Are you going to tell me where we’re going?” Y/N asked from the passenger seat of Peter’s car. He was wearing a college hoodie and jeans, very casual for a date. Y/N was grateful she didn’t dress up super fancy like she had originally planned. 

“We’re almost there!!!” He looked over at her and grinned, taking her hand in his.

The pair pulled up to a ticket booth and Peter rolled down his window. “Two please,” He handed the cashier money and received a small speaker and two tickets in return. 

“What is this, Pevensie?” Peter pulled up behind a car and parked before turning to his date. He had a shit-eating grin on his face. 

“Well, I know how much you like The Shining, seeing as you’re basing your entire Senior project on it. So, I thought you might like this.” He gestured to a large screen in front of the car. “They’re playing old horror movies all week… tonight is The Nightmare on Elm Street. I checked to see if they were showing The Shining but they weren’t. This was the next best option.” 

Y/N was speechless, he had put so much thought into this date. Her entire body felt fuzzy and a bashful grin filled her face. “You did all of this for me?” 

“Well, yes. You’re a special girl, so you deserve a special first date.” Peter looked so good in the dim lighting, the shadows framing the important features of his face. Without even thinking, she leaned over and kissed him. Instantly, he began to kiss Y/N back. 

The kiss was short but extremely sweet. He kept his hand on Y/N’s cheek as he lightly brushed his soft lips against her’s. He knew how to treat a girl right, and Y/N felt like the most special girl in the world. Y/N pulled away and kissed his cheek before falling back into her seat. 

“Thank you for this, really.” 

Peter grinned cheekily. “I’ll go get us some popcorn.” 

He got out of the car and Y/N let out a happy giggle. She was ready for the best first date she had ever witnessed. 

[rexcoatlarchive]

Welcome to chaldea

Time to explore how the hell Rex even got to chaldea in the first place.

*in a suburban home somewhere in Kansas, laying in his bed was the man who would eventually be thrown into some magical bs*

*phone rings*

Me: *picking up the phone* hola?

Gramps: Hola mijo!

Me: oh hey gramps

Gramps: how are doing today?

Me: I'm fine, and you?

Gramps: bien , muy bien. Hey, you think you can come over? It's kind of important.

Me: uh sure I guess I could.

Gramps: and make sure you come alone

Me: oh... OK.

*later on right outside a pretty dingy looking house*

Me: *driving up to the building*

Me: here we are. Wonder what he needs

*enters the house*

Me: gramps! You in here?!

Gramps: *from another room* over here mijo!

*Rex walks to a room that looks a bit like an office. And there at a desk sat an older kinda short looking Mexican man*

Rex: hey Gramps. You wanted to see me?

Gramps: si mijo! There's something I need to tell you about.

Me: uh sure thing, what is it?

Gramps: ...you ever heard of magic mijo?

Me: *already concerned* uh.... yeah.

Gramps: you think it's all just nonsense and fairy tails don't you?

Me: well all evidence I and the world at large have seen points towards it being bs, yeah.

Gramps: well what if I told you it was all true, and all magic users have been keeping it a secret from the rest of the world?

Me: what like Harry Potter? Well first off I'd be concerned about your mental health somewhat.

Gramps: hahaha, yeah I imagine that's an appropriate reaction. But what if I showed you this *just fucking makes fire appear out of his hands*

Me: .....well then. Is it real?

Gramps: course it's real. Try to feel it

Me: *reaches hand out, it's actually warm* ...how the fuck?

Gramps: like I said, magic! Well we call it thamaturgy, we don't consider it true magic.

Me: then wtf is true magic?

Gramps: the stuff of dreams! The things some true magicians can do are beyond imagination and even comprehension!

Me: well then... why are you telling me all this now? Who else knows?

Gramps: no one else in the family. I've kept this a secret for ages.

Me: ages?! How old are you?

Gramps: oof! I don't even remember! But I will say my earliest memory is of some Spanish fools asking about a golden city. And even then I wasn't exactly a spring chicken

Me: *thinking about how old that could be* holy... so you can keep yourself young with magic?

Gramps: yeah, most mages don't but a few dabble in it.

Me: why keep it a secret for so long? And why start talking now?

Gramps: well to answer your first question, it's because most of mage culture is horrible and lacks morality almost entirely.

Me: ...huh

Gramps: and almost all mages are fools, refusing to adapt with the times. They're obsessed with the old ways, it can get downright pathetic honestly!

Me: interesting... again why now?

Gramps: well I figure it's time to stop extending my life so damn much and open the way for the next generation, as in you!

Me: Me?! You want me start doing magic?

Gramps: yup!

Me: why me? Why not dad or mom or someone?

Gramps: because I've been specifically getting you ready for this. Your magical circuits are the best in the family, the only ones that compare to mine.

Me: ...my what?

Gramps: they're called magical circuits. It's the part of the body that allows people to practice thamaturgy in the first place.

Me: so it's genetic?

Gramps: yeah, almost every generation after me had subpar circuits. Slowly over the generations I did small experiments to ensure that eventually I will have a proper successor. Nothing too bad, no one would've noticed. And you are the culmination of that work.

Me: feels really weird to be called the culmination of your work.

Gramps: yeah, that's an understandable reaction. Don't worry, I never needed to do anything to you. You were born ready to go. I just needed to wait until you were old enough.

Me: alright. So how do we start this? You start teaching me how to do this?

Gramps: early on I did have that in mind, but then a friend of mine starting working on something that I think would be better. You see, in the world of magecraft I'm actually kinda infamous. I'm a bit of a black sheep compared to the rest of magus society. Instead of focusing on 1 type of magecraft I decided to travel all around and learn as much as I could.

Me: so you're a bit of a jack of all trades?

Gramps: yeah, that's a good way to put it. I made many friends and enemies in my travels. And many want to know all the secrets I have, because I know forms of magecraft that many would love to get their hands on. For example, I'm ages old but don't look a day over 80 right?

Me: yeah.

Gramps: usually for other mages to achieve this many sacrifices are made, like sanity or their bodies start to deteriorate. But not me! I have access to magecraft that's long since died out.

Me: damn

Gramps: and all those secret will go to you. Or atleast most that I can give. And automatically once I die, all my enemies will be your enemies.

Me: WHAT!?

Gramps: but! Then I heard a friend of mine, from the animusphere family started working on something called the Chaldea security organization. And he needs mages, I talked to him and ensured that you'll join. And in return he'll ensure no one can get to you.

Me: so I'll go their to learn instead of you?

Gramps: yup! Soon enough I'll transfer my crest, which what'll you need to get started, you'll receive a phone call to confirm your participation. Then eventually someone will come get you, and you'll get started from there.

Me: so it's like a job? And is it OK for them to get someone so new to this?

Gramps: they just need bodies, and yeah it's basically a job. But you'll be staying there. So I'm basically forcing you to finally be independent and move out of your parent's home

Me: I'm only 20, it's not that bad.

Gramps: still, this has been set in motion. Are you prepared for what's coming?

Me: not even remotely! But I have very little say do I?

Gramps: nope!

*eventually after a few days, Gramps transfered his crest over to Rex. Eventually Gramps passes, and Rex just waited*

*phone rings*

Me: hello?

*a female voice is heard*

Olga: hello, this is the director of the chaldea security organization. I have a note from the previous director to call this number on this day. Are you the successor of that... unique magus who passed recently?

Me: yes I am.

Olga: and am I correct to assume that you've been informed of your involuntary recruitment into this organization?

Me: yup

Olga: ok, I'm not going to force you to join but I will say it is in your best interest to join. Once other magus find out about you, and they will, you will likely not be safe.

Me: yeah, he made that clear. I've already prepared myself to join

Olga: excellent, a car will be coming tomorrow to take you to a plane. From there you'll be taken here.

Me: alright then. Is that it?

Olga: that's all, see you soon enough

*the phone is hung up*

Me: kind of annoying being thrown into this. But from what I've heard it could be worse. *looks at an envelope left by gramps*

*on the envelope it says "don't open until you get there, and make sure to bring the feather"*

Me: *holding said feather* he gave me this thing ages ago. So I guess this was him getting me ready for all this? Wth does a feather have to do with magic anyways?

*the next day on the plane*

*Rex is seated next to a pair of twins*

Rikka: *trying to start conversation* hey there!

Me: hi

Rikka: what's your name?

Me: you can call me Rex

Rikka: well hey there Rex! You can call me Rikka, and this is my brother Rikko!

Rikko: *is sleeping*

Rikka: *elbows him* wake up bro!

Rikko: huh? What?

Rikka: so why'd you decide to join up?

Me: was kinda forced into this by gramps

Rikka: your grandpa forced you to join?

Me: oh, he's not actually my grandpa. Everyone in my family just called him that because he's older. And yeah I was forced essentially, because a lot of magus don't like him apparently. And as his successor I'm apparently going to have a target on my back. But he said the director would promise my safety if I joined so... yeah

Rikka: well that's kind of messed up! But that's mage culture for ya!

Me: man every time I hear about mage culture, it's non-stop misery and dread

Rikka: do you not know much about mage culture?

Me: no! Just a month ago, magic would've been considered fairy tale nonsense to me! But now I'm being thrown into something I barely understand to stay safe from who knows what!

Rikko: that's very weird. Normally it's driven into your head from birth

Me: but not me! Even the rest of my family knew nothing until I showed them some of the basic spells gramps taught me! He's left me with very little while throwing me into this crazy world. It's kind of weird because he was always that cool relative that was a blast whenever he visited! But now he's the man who threw me into this magic hell and then died! All he's left me with is this journal to figure out basic magecraft and this bite and feather

Rikko: feather? Why the feather?

Me: good question. The note might explain but it says to wait until we get there.

Rikka: well when you do open it can you tell us?

Me: sure I guess

Me: but I've gone on long enough, why are you guys joining?

Rikko: well we just needed some work and independence, and our parents heard about this place and said we should join up

Me: that's it?

Rikka: yup!

Me: huh, ok then

*eventually once at chaldea and after the huge presentation at the beginning the 3 are walking towards their rooms*

Me: man you two kept falling asleep, if I weren't there to keep you guys awake who knows how the director would've reacted. And also thankfully that Mash girl told us the right way to go to our rooms

Rikka: *still sleepy* yeah, thanks for that. And thanks Mash

Rikko: *also sleepy* so where's our rooms anyways?

Me: *stopping at a door* right here it seems

Rikka: cool! Let's get in to read your note already!

Me: don't you want to get into your rooms first?

Rikka: that can wait! I'm too curious right now!

Me: alright then

*the door opens and sitting on the bed is a man with long red hair tied in a pony tail is seen eating cake, along with him is a dark skinned woman with dark purple hair*

Me: uh...

Rikka: hey there?

Rikko: did you get the wrong room?

Me: no... it says right on the paper

*the two on the bed stand up*

Romani: oh sorry about that we were just kind of taking a quick break, this room had been empty for so long we just used it to hang out.

Me: huh... well sorry but I've been assigned to this room.

Rikka: who are you guys anyway?

Romani: I'm Romani Archaman, the head doctor around here though most people call me Dr. Roman. And this lovely woman is my wife, and assistant

Mrs. Archaman: hello there

Me: oh the head doctor huh? Interesting

Rikko: nice to meet you doc

Rikka: ...you guys both have fluffy hair

Roman: yeah we get that a lot

Mrs. Archaman: mostly me though. People always want feel my hair

*out of nowhere comes a little white animal*

Roman: oh is that the fabled mystery creature Mash told us about?

Mrs. Archaman: oh how cute!

Me: wtf is he?

Rikko: squirrel?

Rikka: cat?

Roman: no idea, my first time seeing him

Roman: come here little guy, I'll give you a treat

Fou: fou fou!

Roman: wait a minute, what's with the pitying look in his eyes!?

*all of a sudden the lights go out, thanks to the explosion*

Well that's the pretty much the story

Really wanted to finally show how Rex got into chaldeas in the first place.

Tagging some folks @panyum @grievouslyxorvia @gxymlky @hasereshdoneanythingwrong

Kinda wonder if people will realize who the mysterious wife is

[btsslowburnfic]

BTBY Chapter 7

Series Summary: For Namjoon, the moment he set his sights on being the #1 rapper, he pushed the symbol to the side and hated it. Love should be chosen, not forced on you. He didn’t believe in fate and this mark on his wrist was a big “fuck you” to all that." Chapter Summary It's award show night! Also, your secret comes out.

  Previous Chapter found here

The group gathers around and watches their red carpet interviews which they react to with a mix of pride and cringe at different moments. The BTS production team shoots footage of them doing this and getting their hair and make-up done and then stops rolling. You are still scrolling through your phone over on the end of the styling counter when you hear the door open and close and a voice cut through the air.

“What the fuck [Y/N]?” You know who it is but you are absolutely shocked that these words are being directed at you. You turn to see Xavier coming over towards you with a look of rage on his face. Ice runs through your veins. He has never yelled at you like this. You guys have had disagreements over the years but nothing like this. In fact no one has ever yelled at you like this before. “Did you just turn down a summer tour with Imagine Dragons?”

You sit your phone on the counter and try to swallow even though our mouth has gone completely dry. “I did. I don’t get why it’s such a big deal though. Other offers are going to come along. Calm down.” you try to get him to chill out even though he is absolutely livid.

“They’re my favorite band. Did you even look at the tour schedule? They’re actually going to Hawaii. HAWAII.” he emphasizes. You notice that everyone in the greenroom has gotten quiet and they are all trying to be polite and not stare, but it’s a small room.

“Dude. I hear that you are upset, but it’s not a big deal ok. Other bands travel. We have a show to get through tonight.”

“Why did you say ‘No’? Especially without asking ME first? Why do you think you can just make all these decisions without me!” Xavier is so angry he doesn’t even look like himself. You want to tell him why you turned it down but you don’t want to make him feel bad. This is all spiraling out of control. You take a deep breath.

“I don’t have to check with you before making a decision about who I work with, ok? Can we please just get the band we ARE working with ready for the stage and move on with our evening. Please?” you are trying to keep your calm but you are starting to shake from having your best friend scream at you at you.

“What the fuck is wrong with you,[Y/N]? I thought we were a team.”

Namjoon couldn’t take it anymore. Taehyung tries to keep him from getting up but he throws his hands to the side and marches up, inserting himself between you and Xavier. “The deal from that manager was for her. Only her. They didn’t want a choreographer. That’s why she turned it down. She’s trying to be a good friend to you so stop yelling at her.” his voice boomed over the room.

Xavier stood there for a moment, taking everything in. His best friend being upset, the performer he looked up to admonishing him, and then turned and realized the whole room was looking at them.

You hold your hand in front of your mouth, surprised at how the past five minutes has gone by. You are still in shock that the whole thing has happened. “RM,” you gently touch his back. He turns his head and looks down at you, “Thanks.” You move so you’re next to him, facing Xavier. “I didn’t want to make a big deal about it. Can we please just get back to focusing on the job we are supposed to be doing right now? Other offers will come our way for both of us. Ok?” you pat Xavier on his arm to comfort him. He’s been your best friend for five years and you’re sure this has to be super embarrassing for him.

“Yeah, ok,” he says, you can see the tears in his eyes that he’s trying to not let fall. “Just uh, give me a minute, yeah? Excuse me,” he says more to RM than you and he exits the green room.

You are still shaking a little. You let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding. “Hey” you hear Namjoon’s deep voice quietly behind you and feel him gently touch your shoulder. It suddenly feels like your entire body is being wrapped in a giant warm blanket. “Are you ok?”

You turn towards his voice. “Not really.” you sigh deeply. “But, we have a show to put on and I hear you guys are supposed to win tonight. So let’s put this stupid shit behind us and move on with the evening.” you plaster a smile on your face and gently shake his hand off you. “Thanks again. I do appreciate it. Can you please apologize to the group? This whole thing is so embarrassing.”

“Yeah. I’ll take care of it. Why don’t you go take a walk?”

You avoid eye contact with the rest of the room as you head out towards the hallway. You decide to go sneak a peek at whoever is rehearsing right now. You’re glad your group went earlier in the day. Still, it was the least they could do since they had fucked up your rehearsal times yesterday.

To your surprise you turn to see JHope standing to your left. “Holy shit!” you yell. He scared you. He shrieks back at you and then laughs. “Sorry,” he holds up his hands.

“JHope. Need anything?” you smile at him.

He looks at you thoughtfully. “Just one thing.” he says and before you can even guess or ask what it might be, he grabs your arm and pushes up your dress sleeve, to look at the glowing mark on your wrist. You instinctively pull it back and up to your chest. He smiles at you and raises his eyebrows. “Yep.” He turns and walks back towards the green room. That little shit.

Tonight is not going how you planned it. These past 2 days are not going how you planned. And while it was nice that RM stood up for you back there you can’t help but wonder why. Probably because he was the leader of the group and things were getting out of hand. You think back to his hand on your shoulder and the way he stood up for you and feel tingly. Nope. Nope! You shake your head as though you can physically get the thoughts out of your head. Ugh. You really need to find Xavier to check on him. ----------- JHope walks back into the greenroom with a huge smile plastered on his face. He had suspected since yesterday afternoon that something was going on and now he had confirmed it. He goes over and whispers to Taehyung who smirks at this news. They had stayed up last night talking about this possibility and were feeling very proud of their deductive reasoning skills right now.

Jimin and Jungkook were having their hair touched up at the moment while Namjoon was scrolling through his phone. Jin was on facetime with his girlfriend over in the corner, occasionally turning the phone around to show her the organized chaos of the greenroom. Her group hadn’t broken out on the international level yet

Yoongi walks over to Namjoon, “So you’re sure our choreographer and Director are coming back, right?”

Namjoon scoffed, “Of course they’ll be back. Well, [Y/N] will be. She’s a professional.” Yoongi eyes him suspiciously. They hear a knock at the door. Without [Y/N] there to liaison, the task falls to Namjoon to go answer it. He rolls his eyes a bit, can’t they just get ready for the show??? And goes to answer it.

“Yes?” he asks, a man standing at the door with a few legal size envelopes.

“Oh, sorry to bother you. Just dropping these off for [Y/N] to look over. Is she here?”

“She stepped out for a moment, I’ll take them for her,” he responds and lets the man hand him the envelopes.

“Thanks. Good luck tonight. My daughter is a huge fan,” the man says.

“We’ll do our best,” Namjoon flashes his trademark dimples, closes the door, and takes the envelopes and thoughtfully sits them down under your clutch.

He looks over to see Yoongi smiling with Taehyung and JHope like they are plotting something. Which is never a good thing for him. Why can’t this show just be over? He sits down in his chair as a make-up artist comes over and starts to do some touch ups.

You come back to the room. No luck finding Xavier so far. You shoot JHope a glare causing him to laugh and hide behind Taehyung who flashes you a boxy smile. Oh God. Do they all know? Just get through tonight. You make your way to the back of the room to your purse so you can text Xavier and Joe.

“A courier stopped by for you,” Namjoon mentions from the chair in the space next to your stuff. “I put the envelopes under your purse.”

Apparently you should hang out with him when there are crowds of people around because he’s actually nice to you then. “Great, thanks so much.” you respond while digging your phone out. “Did Xavier come back here?”

“Nope.” Namjoon responds with an edge to his voice. Now that you think of it, he probably won’t because in addition to being embarrassed, he’s probably afraid of RM. You sigh. This goddamn day. You send off some messages to him and Joe telling them if you don’t see them before the show you will meet them at your seats. In the nosebleed section. Where they keep the staff.

You feel eyes on you and you see three of the members staring at the two of you interact but trying not to stare. You don’t dare say anything to him right now with so many hair and make-up artists surrounding you. You type into your phone, “BTW JHope knows. He came up and saw my soulmark. I’m guessing he also told the others since they look like a bunch of high school girls right about now.” “Hey, can you look at something for me?” you ask him as you hand him your phone. He gives you a confused look but takes it anyway. He reads the message, looks over at your wrist which is currently covered by your long sleeves. He starts to run a hand through his hair but stops himself since it was just styled. He types something in and hands it back to you.

“How? Your wrist is covered. Also Maybe you should get some concealer. Hasn’t your boyfriend noticed?”

You roll your eyes and type “He literally walked up, pushed my sleeve out of the way, laughed at me like a schoolgirl, and left. I haven’t seen my boyfriend since this happened. In case you haven’t noticed, IVE BEEN WORKING :/ “ you thrust the phone back into his hands as you begin to tear open the envelopes.

He reads the message and then turns to glare at the three gossips who make eye contact with him and scatter. “Sorry. I literally have 6 children. Well 5. Jin takes care of himself.” he hands you your phone back and continues to scroll through his.

You look over the contents of the first envelope and smile. As predicted, these are formal bids for summer tours. And this one is for a director and a choreographer. The tour doesn’t go to Hawaii, but you can always save up and just go with Xavier and Joe for fun. You open the other two proposals and look over the salaries, hours, and cities.

“What are those?” RM asks casually.

“These are formal bids for summer tours. This awards show is kind of known for where people look for summer work, so a lot of Producers come with bid sheets. I usually only accept written bids. Mr. Salontes caught me off guard earlier because we ran into each other. I hate networking and verbal offers; It’s too much work to keep track of all the ass kissing so I just send out my resume ahead of time and receive written bids on awards night.” You put the documents back into the folder.

“Anything good?”

“Yeah. They’re all good groups. I’ll let Xavier pick. He has to work around Joe’s schedule and cares more. I just love traveling so I’ll go wherever.”

“You aren’t going to check with your boyfriend?” He raises his eyebrows. Why does he care so much about your boyfriend?

“No. Not really. I mean, I had this job when we started dating. He knows I go on tour in the summer so it’s not like it should be a surprise to him, you know? It’s my job and it’s literally my favorite part about it.” you shrug your shoulders. “I don’t suppose you have a girlfriend?” you ask.

He scoffs,” Definitely not.”

“Well if you did, would you stop touring or ask her where you were allowed to perform?”

“Definitely not.” he repeats.

You raise your eyebrows at him. “I didn’t think so. It’s the same thing.” you start scrolling through your phone to see who else you know that posted they were here tonight. An alarm goes off. “Alright guys, 10 minutes. 10 minutes until you’ll be seated. At 6:45 I will come get you and you will come change and be on stage at 7:15. One of your categories is next so you won’t come back and change until after the announcement. I’m sure you will do great!”

You look in the mirror and touch up your own make-up a bit.

“So pretty,” you hear RM say under his breath as you catch him staring at you. You’re not sure if you were meant to hear it and try your best to keep your face neutral. You put your make-up bag into the company box along with your clutch and lock it up.

“Do you guys still get nervous at these things or is it just like a normal day for you?” you ask RM, relaxing with your back against the wall.

He smiles, “We definitely still get nervous. Even if we think we are going to win and even if we have performed a song hundreds of times. We want to do well for our fans and for each other.”

“Well if practice was any indication I’m sure you guys will do great.” you say as you check your watch. “5 minutes” you yell into the green room. “When do you guys fly out?”

“We’ll leave for New York tomorrow morning, stay for two days and then back to Seoul.”

“Cool cool.” you say as your small talk ability is starting to wear out.

The time has finally come and you gather the group together to escort to their seats. They randomly get distracted by saying their “hellos” to other artists but you have worked in enough time that you should still be good. You show them to their seats in the second row, left side.

You pull RM over a bit so he can hear you over the guys being all excited and taking pictures of them in front of the stage. “Ok, do not leave the seats until I come get you. The show runs over some times so don’t assume that because it’s the original time I told you that we will actually go at that time, ok? If I had to guess, we will already be ten minutes behind when I come get you and 20 minutes by your performance time.”

“Got it.” he looks over to the other guys who are goofing off and taking a bunch of selfies.

“Good luck!” you tell him as you turn to grab an earpiece from the sound booth and get to your seat.

“Hey! [Y/N]” you hear someone say to you. You turn back and it’s Jimin. “Take our picture?”

“Sure,” you respond, walking over and getting his phone. “Alright guys, together.” You take several photos as they keep switching positions every few seconds. What a bunch of pros.

“You guys make that look easy,” you say as you hand the phone back to Jimin. “Alright, see you soon!”

You start to once again make your way to the sound booth when you hear another voice calling your name, “Hey!” you look over and see Seth Ayers, another Director. He has just got his artist escorted to her seat.

“Hey!” you lean in for a polite hug. “How are you?”

“Good, good. You look nice.”

“Thanks. You too. It’s always so fun seeing everyone in their fancy clothes,” you laugh. You suddenly feel rage in the pit of your stomach. What the hell? You take a few deep breaths.

“Who’s your date tonight? Xavier?” he asks

“No, Good guess though,” you smile, “Xavier brought his boyfriend. I’m flying solo this evening.”

“Oh. Well, if you need an escort to any of the after parties just let me know.” Oh God, was Seth hitting on you!? Ughhhh. Awkward. Time to mention your boyfriend. All of a sudden you feel breathing on your neck. “Ahhh. Hey there.” you say as you turn and see RM lurking.

“I’m so sorry to interrupt. I forget, what time are you coming to get us?”

You smirk at him. Jealous. He was Jealous. “No problem. 6:45.” you turn back to Seth. “I’m not going to any after parties this year. We’re having a small gathering at the studio afterwards. Good luck tonight! It was nice to see you” you flash a smile and start walking with RM back to the front of the theater.

“You forgot what time?” you whisper.

“Yep.” he says cooly.

You roll your eyes. “Huh. Ok. Well You.” you take him by the shoulders “Stay. Staaaaay. I will be back sometime later this evening.” You jokingly move him and place him right in front of his seat. “Got it?”

“Yes, I think I understand.” he smiles. Ahhh Dimples. Staaaahp.

Will you ever get to your earpiece? Make it to your seats? There is half an hour until the show gets started and they are setting up for the opening act. You massage your temples. Let this day end.

“Picture?” you hear JHope ask as he walks over with his camera. “Ok!” you put back on your enthusiastic facade.

“Selfie?”

“Oh ok sure.” you stand next to him and take a few pictures. Once again that low lying rage fills your stomach. Jesus. How can a person who doesn’t even want a soul mate get so damn jealous?

“Stop it.” you say to him.

“Stop what?” he responds. You give him a hardcore mom look.

“Yeah ok. Whatever,” you say.

“Now, you two?” JHope asks and you almost object but you don’t want to be rude. You stand next to RM and give a half-ass smile. More of a smirk really.

“Ok. For real. I am Going now. Good luck.” you say as you turn and finally get your hands on the damn earpiece. NEXT CHAPTER

[springmagpies]

My Uncle Reacts to AoS Season 4

So, instead of getting chores done this morning, my uncle and I finished Season 4 of Agents of Shield. Here are his reactions! Enjoy! Fair warning, it is a long post because Steve had a lot of feelings.

4x01

Before the episode: I’m guessing Coulson was like “I got too close to the situation and could no longer be impartial.” And then he passed over the title of director to May or that general guy. Talbot! That’s his name.

He’s like ghost rider is all. Holy crap he is ghost rider! I didn’t realize he was marvel.

Why’d they have to break up the band?

I am concerned about the robots.

Well, ghost rider is badass.

4x02

“You’re an engineer Mack. And a small tank.” Bwhahahahahaha, that’s so true.

The director is Talbot. Ooooh, not Talbot. Someone new.

Oh, Daisy has a picture of Lincoln. I miss him.

May is not okay. May needs a nap.

I still can’t get over Mack offering that maybe they���re just ghosts. Fitzsimmons faces were amazing.

Mace is such a politician.

4x03

*Lincoln is mentioned* Owwwwwww

I love the Phil, Mack, and Fitz team up.

Wow, Fitz is badass this episode.

Okay, so Elena is amazing. That shot with the light was awesome!

4x04

Fitzsimmons moving in together, count me in.

I see where Daisy is coming from, but not awesome that she’s using her friends and then leaving.

Come on Daisy! Come home.

Heylo? Hahahahaha

Radcliffe, I don’t think telling the android it’s okay to lie sometimes is a good idea.

What’s that face she’s giving? Oh shit, is she feeling things? Is she feeling things for Fitz. That’s not good.

I don’t trust James. *moments later* Called it.

Yes, Mack, two fire dudes just fell into fireworks.

Jemma for sure knows she’s an android.

“I prefer a classical beauty myself.” Awww, Fitz.

4x05

Oh, Fitz, a high five will not fix her being mad at you. Trust me.

“I’m sure they have it under control.” *cuts to chaos* Okay, that’s the best transition of the whole show.

Robbie, please don’t go after that guy. Just keep going please. Dammit. Why can no one just follow instructions in Shield.

Way to go Jemma! But what happened with Mace?? What did he do?

May had a heart to heart with her and she’s still leaving? Is Daisy really going to leave after all of this? She can’t, right?

Robbies uncle is going to get sucked into that book. Yeah, look at his expression. That’s not good at all is it.

Well that senator sucks.

4x06

*Mace mad at Coulson* Daaaang

Fitz is so smart. He would be a millionaire if he was an inventor or something. But he just wants to help people.

Wait, shit, Eli is bad!

*Fitz, Coulson, and Robbie disappear* Oh no!!!! Wait, that’s how the episode ends! Noooo!!

4x07

Shit, where are they.

Oh, so that’s where they are. That’s not good.

“I have to phone Simmons to tell her... I’m in another dimension.” Bwhahahahaha oh no.

That’s not Mack. Holy shit!

“Oh Mack’s the ghost rider no big deal. But you can’t hear us.” Oh my god, these lines are amazing.

The dialogue this episode is fantastic.

No!!!!! Don’t give the darkhold to Radcliffe. He’s already so morally grey!!!

Fitz is going to hit Mace

Aww, Fitzsimmons

There’s some flirtation with Phil and Melinda going on.

Have we seen who’s in that photo Mack is looking at? Hope?

Oh hey Robbie, how was hell.

Ummm, is Aida building a brain? Is she corrupted. Yep. She’s corrupted. We’ve got a corrupted android. Great.

4x08

Coulson’s comedic timing is everything.

Oof, Robbie is not having a good time.

“Oh yeah, Fitz solved that” Of course he did. He’s Fitz.

*Badass Fitzsimmons duo scene* They truly are a dynamic duo aren’t they. That shot was awesome!

*Daisy looking at Robbie’s car* well, you’ve got a sweet car.

*Mackelena finally kiss* gasps. There it is!

*Aida kills Nathanson* Oh dears.

*Reveal that May is an LMD* Wait wait wait. Holy shit. Oh shit. Damn.

4x09

Aida’s so sweet to May. And she sweetly killed Nathanson like it was nothing. Not creepy at all.

Once again Mack’s lines are amazing.

Yeah, don’t attack the android guys. Not a good idea.

“Why would you want to hurt me Leopold.” Aaaah haaaa, umm. No.

“Well, Simmons has only been kidnapped twice on this planet.” Hahahahahahaha that’s hilarious.

Smart people are stupid. That’s amazing.

*Aida freezes may* AAAH, she doesn’t even know she’s a robot!

*Radcliffe reveal* O. M. G. He’s corrupted. He played them. Asshole. Dammit he read it for just a second! No!

This is a good part of the show! I’m really enjoying this.

4x10

What the heck’s in that brief case?

And Radcliffe is now super creepy.

Poor Fitz, he doesn’t know his friend totally betrayed him.

“I did this to protect you.” Awww, Fitz. I mean, let’s not make robots, but that’s still really sweet. He just wanted to protect Simmons and everyone.

*May wakes up* Jesus, god May. She’s a badass. Imagine waking up like that! God! That’s terrifying.

“I can’t help feeling like somethings off.” Yeah, May, you aren’t real.

Mace isn’t an inhuman! Oh damn.

*Fitz analyzing Aida’s head* Uh oh Fitz.

“Is it weird that I found that attractive?” Hahahahahahahaha. Fantastic.

*Coulson back in charge* hell yeah!

*May finds out she’s an LMD* Aaaaaaah! Well, that’s an existential crisis.

4x11  

Does Radcliffe have more of them? Because he just happened to have May.

*May waking up over and over again* Feels like I’m watching The Good Place.  

*Aida breaks a glass* That’s concerning that a robot would make a mistake like that.

*Hope reveal* Oh that’s awful! Poor Mack.

Whose the other LMD?

*Radcliffe LMD reveal* Ohhhh noooo. Poor Fitz.

4x12

Hey! I was wondering where the lanyard guys were!

“You’re going all Gollumy again” bwhahahahaha that’s amazing

“I’ve lost too much already, I’m not losing you.” Awww, Phil.

*Robo Radcliffe talks about Fitz’s past* Oh my gosh, that explains so much. Oh Fitz! Screw Fitz’s dad.

How many Koenigs are there?

Awww, baby Fitz!—Maggie

I bet that’s his real mom too!—Steve

Fitz and Simmons are cute!

*Philinda kiss* Noooo! She’s a robot!

“Sorry, you weren’t meant to last” Radcliffe you ass. You evil ass.

4x13

*Agnes reveal* Eeeek, creepy. That’s who she’s based on!

Wait, is she really Australian? Damn, she does a great American accent.  

Mace really got the short end of the stick in a lot of this didn’t he.

*Shockley gets turned into an inhuman* Oooh shit.

Did they just put Shockley on the plane. The dude that blows up? Well, damn.

*Fitzsimmons realize Shockley is the bomb* Way to go dynamic duo. Now gooooo! Oh, they’re going. Simmons pushing Fitz is amazing.

Aaaaaah! Fitz! Fitz and Mace!

*Fitzsimmons hug* Awww. I know I’ve said it before but they’re cute.

Noooo! Mace! Shit they kidnapped Mace!

*Aida takes put on Agnes’s necklace* Ewwwww, creepy. Creepy creepy creepy! Aaah.

4x14

*The superior walking* He must have this ‘I’m so cool face’ on at all times.

Aww, is Radcliffe in there to be with Agnes. That’s so sad.

*Flashback with Phil and May* Aww, May is all playful. It’s before the sad times.

*Mace chained* that’s not great for your circulation.

They’re going to kill Mace. No, don’t kill Mace.

“Morales, you’re with me.” Uh oh, Morales. More redshirts with names making me nervous.

“You’ve enhanced yourself with alien technology.” Actually Fitz built his hand.

“Cool origin story, bro.” Okay, that’s incredible.

“Concern only slightly lessened.” Davis is just like ‘thanks dude.’ Fantastic.

Mack doesn’t need super powers to be a badass.

*LMD reveal* Holy shit. Holy shiiiit. They switched out all four of them??? All four??? Holy shiiiit. Fitzsimmons are all alone. Aaaahaaa.

“Even filth has a purpose.” Ewwww, and she’s leaning over him like that. So creeeeppyyy. Eewwww.

“He’s a shrink.” Oh awwww. It’s Andrew. She falls in love with him.

Well I guess Phil and Melinda’s robots can be together. Kind of weird but okay.

Oh my god, this is stressing me out!!!

‘Even filth has a purpose.” Gaaah, ewww. I’m still thinking about it.

So is Radcliffe even in control anymore? Or is he too preoccupied with the framework to care. Like, is Aida just doing whatever the heck she wants now because that’s unsettling.

4x15

Where are all of them? Oh they’re in the framework. Uh oh.

Ewwww, Aida is evil! He’s (Ivanov) alive and she’s cutting into him.

Aaah, they’ve got them surrounded. It’s so creepy.

This is some body snatchers shit.

*fitzsimmons LMD scene* *Steve biting his nails with wide eyes* oh my god that was awful.

*Steve rewinds to rewatch the LMD scene* they’re so good. And it hurt so much to see Fitz go so cold. Owwww. Because it was him and how he would act and then it just shuts off. Ugh, they’re so good.

*Jemma stabbing Fitz scene* Oh he’s thought about getting married. Oh my god, that’s so awful. So disturbing. That hurts. They’re so talented.

*Daisy LMDs* Ohhhh that’s so disturbing. This is all so disturbing. Oh my gosh.

*Daisy and Jemma scene* Awwww, they found the only other person to trust. That’s so sweet. Gosh, that was also a brilliantly acted scene.

They’re all such good actors. All of them.

God, this is all so disturbing.

*Aida kills Radcliffe* oh shit. Aaaaah. That’s so creepy.

“Because you and Fitz belong together.” Thats the truth.

“Their poor base” -Maggie

“And they just retiled the bathrooms.” -Steve

Ooh, quake jump, that’s so cool.

*Slow motion quake* That’s sooo badasssss!

*Davis flying the Zephyr* Aah, Davis. Careful. He just started training.

*LMD May blows up the base.* oooh ho.  Damn.

“Lincoln?” Oh noooo. That’s awful.

*Ward reveal* Whaaaaat?

*Coulson reveal* Whaaaaaat?

*Mack reveal* oh nooo, he’s got his daughter.

*Fitz reveal* Whaaaaaat? But, damn.

*Jemma reveal* Whaaaaaaaaat? She’s in a grave? Who’s in the car with Fitz?

*May reveal* is she an avenger? *Hydra logo appears* Waaaaait. Whaaaaaaaaat?

What the hell is going on. What the hell? What is this place. Are they all evil? Some of them evil? Mack isn’t evil right?

*Ivanov’s head* Ewwww creepy.

Whaaaat the helllll. As Fitz would say *does Fitz impression* what the hell?

Dammit why do I have to put the kids to bed!! I want to watch the next episode!! Gosh dang it.

That’s disturbing count: around 15

4x16

“Skye?” Skye??? Skye!!!

*Logo* ooooh, agents of hydra

“You’re on another planet this morning.” Yeah, she is. No shit Ward.

*Daisy looks up Lincoln* Awwww. Owwwww.

*Jemma jumps from the grave.* Lucky she was in a shallow grave.

They’re having a bad week.

Vijay isn’t real. He’s at the bottom of the ocean.

*Ward punches Vijay* wait, did he want him to stop talking? Hmmm.

*Coulson class scene* Aaaahhaa that’s not awful at all.

*May Bahrain reveal* oh shit, it changed that much! Shit.

“We’ve got him doctor” Radcliffe? *Fitz reveal*  Ooooh nooo! Noooo! Shit, noooo! Jemma died and he went all dark. Nooooo.

“It’s a magical place.” Oh damn!

“My father used to say...” Shit, does Fitz have his dad’s influence?????

*Ward double agent reveal* Ooooooh! Shiiit. That’s so interesting!!

“This isn’t the framework this is hell” Jemma’s so pissed.

“Drones, Dwarves. Whatever.” Awww, Jemma’s heart just broke right there.

Are they stuck in the framework! Well shit!

*Fitz and Aida kiss* Ewwww. I mean it makes sense in this world because of course she’s using Fitz but ewww.

She replaced Jemma with herself. That’s not creepy at all.

“Daisy?” Aaaah! He remembers!

This place is messed up! Interesting, but messed up!

4x17

“I make my own soap now.” Bwhahahahahaha. That’s amazing.

Aww, Mack has his daughter. And she’s adorable. Oh no!

Ophelia? Oooh, she’s got her own name.

“I’d cross the universe for you.” Ewwww! Noooo. He literally crossed the universe for Jemma.

*Fitz and Aida make out* *Maggie screams and Steve shivers* But why is Fitz so hot in the framework though—Maggie *Steve nods*

“The soap made me do it.” Bwhahahahaha

*Mace reveal* Aaaaah! Mace! He’s all gruff now and an inhuman! He got everything that he ever wanted.

“And we’ll make our society great again.” Ewwwwwwwhewe!

This is so interesting! I’m really liking it!

*Mack and hope get taken by Hydra* that’s so awful! That is so disturbing!

Coulson is so nerdy, I love it.

“You’re Daisy Johnson. We’re agents of shield.” Mack remembers.

*Revealed that Mack doesn’t remember* No! Shit.

*Fitz kills Agnes* *sharp intake of breath, Steve stays silent for a very long time.*

*Mack joins Shield* Good job Mack.

“How do you feel?”-Maggie.

Steve quietly: “sick.”

4x18

I love how Mace is all scruffy and his suits all scratched.

Aaah, evil Fitz makes me sad.

*Jemma seeing Mack and Hope* Yeah, it’s an oh shit moment.

“Tell your old man all about it.” *Steve gasps* Oh no.

“I don’t know the kind of man I’d be without you father.” “That’s why I’m here.” Yep, to brainwash him.

TRIP!

*Brainwash room* Oh no! It’s the other kid too! No!

MACE! Noooo! Why would Aida do that. She’s so evil.

That’s so messed up.

*May used Terrigen on Daisy* Yes. Good job May. And hopefully it’ll heal her in the process.

4x19

Ha, Bakshi has a tv show.

Aww, mace is dead. He was a good man.

*Daisy quakes Aida out a window* *Steve laughs* That took her by surprise didn’t it.

“It’s like sipping poison...” Mmm, Fox News.

“You’re the new head of hydra” Yikes.

*Ward throws remote* Umm, you guys have limited remotes!

*Steve pauses show* I don’t like any of this. It’s interesting but I hurt inside. It hurts that Fitz is evil. Mace is dead. Agnes is dead. Radcliffe is in prison. May was evil. I’m sad.

Aww, Coulson all of a sudden became that paternal leader.

Wait, so she totally used Fitz in like every way. What a jerk.

Trips the best.

Sorry Ward. She wants to feel bad for you but she can’t.

So much Scottishness this season. I love it.

*Radcliffe yells at Alistar* yep, because you’re a worthless asshole ya jerk. Oof, he just throat punched Radcliffe.

Aww, Coulson is coming into his own.

“When this is over-“ Do I get Skye! “Do I get my Skye back?” Called it!

I liked that scene with Grant. It was the redemption that the other Ward didn’t deserve but this one did. It was nice. Also really well acted.

“Hydra giving alternative facts.” Ooooh, they’re calling them out. They are so not fans of Trump and it’s amazing.

*Coulson on the news* This is Shield’s please vote! Please vote.

That was amazing.

4x20

Yeah, I hate all of this.

This all hurts.

*Fitz talks to Radcliffe* Come on Radcliffe, please don’t betray us. Please.

*Jemma kills Alistair* Well, that’s not going to help us.

“I’m sure everything is fine.” It is not. Simmons killed Fitz’s dad.

I hate this. It’s fascinating and I hate it. She’s just made him mad. God, no.

*Trip saying goodbye* Awww, this hurts. He’s goneeee in our world. Whyyyyy.

Is Aida trying to build her spine *body being built on the other side* Ohhh. Damn.

*Coulson gets shot* SHIT

*Coulson wakes up* You’re going to have to fight a killer robot, Phil.

*May wakes up* Awww she did it! She followed him!!

*Radcliffe redeems himself* Yes! Radcliffe! Yes! Thank you!

*Fitz falls through* Thank God!

Thank you Radcliffe.

*Mack not coming with* Maggie, I really don’t like this.

Oh gosh, Fitz is so freaked out. They’re all so freaked out. Aaah, Aida!

*Aida and Fitz teleport* Well that was unexpected.

I feel really ill. Like, this hurts a lot. I hurt a lot.

It’s like The Red Wedding but drawn out over 4 episodes and I hurt.

4x21

Before the episode: I came into the framework so optimistic and it crushed me. Like I thought May was an avenger and then it was like hahaha pain.

Oh yeah! And then she teleported with Fitz. JERK!

Fitz really got screwed by the framework didn’t he.

*Coulson kills Robo Ivanov with a shield* WOAHHH!!! That was amazing! ...and disturbing.

*Coulson recounts what happened with Robbie Reyes* BWHAHAHAHAHA. It sounds so ridiculous when you recount it but it’s so amazing watching it.

Will she stop teleporting Fitz! He already feels sick!

Yeaaaah, giving Fitz his abuser back and replacing the woman he loves with yourself is not what would make him happy Aida!

“If he wanted to kill us he could just flood the place. Why is he stalling.” TO FLOOD THE PLACE, PHIL!

“I drank the bottle of Haig” “you piece of—“ *Steve can’t stop laughing*

*Mack almost drowning* Oh shit. Oh shit. Oh shit. OH SHIT.

*Fitz and Aida rescuing mack* THANK GOD.

*Jemma shoots Aida* well, yeah.

*Jemma shoots Fitz* Love ya Fitz, sorry man.

“What do we do with Fitz?” Talk to him!!

“I’m just like Ward.” Oh ho, that hurts.

“There’s only room in my heart for her.” YES! Oh shit, Aida’s not happy.

OH SHIT!

NO DAVIS! DAVIS!

*Toddler starts crying IRL over a toy* Now imagine if we gave her powers.That’s what’s happening with Aida.

*Fitzsimmons pod scene* oww

*Yoyo plugs herself into the framwork* This is a mess.

*Aida throws bottle in anger* His vodka!

*Aida and Ivanov scene* Aaah! Inhuman robot sex. Oh. Nope. Murder.

*Robbie comes back* Welcome back buddy! SHIELD shit has hit the fan.

4x22

“How do we kill Aida?” Hell chains? I’m thinking hell chains.

*Robbie waiting for Shield* Hello, back from another dimension? No way, us too!

Well Radcliffe is screwed if the framework is falling apart.

“I’ll talk to him. He’ll remember me.” No he won’t Elena. Wish he would though.

*Robo!Daisy shoots Talbot* *Steve sits with his mouth open* NO!! I mean, he could be annoying but he was a good man! And he’s been around since season 1!

“There’s a pulse.” How? Yay! But how?

“Once you say you can’t stop me. Well—“ it’s like when you say you feel safe on Survivor and then get voted off the island.

*Daisy & Robbie team up* Boom bitches!! That was super cool!

Mack’s not going to leave until Hope de-materializes. And that sucks ass.

“Robot May was much more supportive.” HA! That’s amazing.

EVERYTHING’S A MESS AND EVERYONE IS HURT AND DIE AND PAIN AND OWW AND THINGS.

Maggie: “What?”

Steve: “You heard me.”

*Aida kills LMD!Jemma* WHAT! What the hell? I feel so sick. Oh thank god she’s an LMD! But I feel ill.

Eeeewwwww the kiss Aida gave Fitz on the cheek is so disturbing.

*Jemma shoots Aida* YES! AWESOME!

*Coulson ghost rider reveal* HOLY SHIT THAT’S AMAZING! I FEEL SO MUCH BETTER!

*Aida dies* Well that was awesome and terrible and poor everyone.

They really do a great job of making you feel sick don’t they.

*Mack and Hope scene*

Maggie: “you okay?”

Steve: *wipes away tear* no.

Wait, is there more to Coulson’s deal with the Ghost Rider?

“Gave me a glimpse of the life I could have here.” Oooh! Mack and Elena! She did almost die for him. They’re in love.

*Robbie having to leave* He and Daisy couldn’t like kiss before he left? No? Fine.

*Daisy speech to Fitz* someone hug him, please!

*Diner scene* Whaaaat?

We’re in space next season!!?? Whooo!!

They’re all so messed up after all of this. I feel messed up after all of this.

[beybladefanfictions]

Ryuga’s Return - Chapter 6

(Description: AU where Ryuga survives Metal Fury but loses L-Drago. He reunites with Kenta and struggles to figure out what he’s supposed to do without Beyblade, his purpose in life for so long. Character’s thoughts are in asteriks.)

Kenta’s POV (Yes, again. I have a good reason I promise)

“Ryuga!”

Kenta dashed toward his friend, jumping up and throwing his arms around him. Ryuga barely caught him with a small yelp of surprise. He briefly returned the hug.

“Mind warning me next time you do that?” Ryuga grunted, letting Kenta down on the ground.

“Sorry, but you really had us worried!” Kenta noticed Madoka near them. “Did you seriously stay at the shop all night?!” he asked, gesturing to her.

Ryuga rolled his eyes. “I fell asleep.”

“What were you doing before that?”

Ryuga fell silent. Kenta turned to Madoka instead.

“He just played with Beyblade parts mostly,” she answered with a shrug.

“Really? Ryuga…”

Kenta stared up at his friend. He thought it was weird that Ryuga had wanted to stay in a place full of reminders of Beyblade, when he constantly avoided the topic of L-Drago’s disappearance, but he hadn’t realized it was this bad.

Ryuga cleared his throat. “Your parents wanted us back at your house,” he informed, walking away.

“Oh, okay…” Kenta turned to Madoka. “Bye Madoka!” he called, waving and chasing after Ryuga.

“Bye Kenta!” Madoka called back.

Kenta slowed to a walk once he was at Ryuga’s side.

“You really miss Beyblade that much?”

“Hm?” Ryuga glanced down at him.

“Playing with Beyblade parts?” Kenta raised an eyebrow. “Come on, Ryuga, you’re not fooling anyone.”

“I’m not trying to.”

“Then what are you trying to do?!” Kenta exclaimed, clenching his fists. “Wallow in misery over losing L-Drago?!”

Ryuga stopped walking, remaining silent for a few heartbeats. “You’re the last person I expected to be mad at me.”

Kenta froze. *What does he mean by THAT?*

“I-I’m not…” Kenta looked away. “I’m sorry.”

They were both quiet the rest of the walk home. Kenta pushed the door open. His parents were in the kitchen, and perked up at the sight of them.

“Ryuga!” they gasped in unison.

Ryuga stepped back. Kenta tilted his head to the side. Usually, Ryuga would react to Kenta’s parents with indifference or annoyance but this time his eyes were wide and he seemed frozen in place. *Is he… afraid?* With a chill, Kenta realized that this was the first time he had seen Ryuga show fear, and it was toward Kenta’s own parents. After a few moments, Ryuga stepped forward. He grabbed his white jacket off the couch and made his way toward the basement.

“Wait, Ryuga!" Kenta called, chasing after him.

Ryuga stopped and looked down at him. “Let me be alone,” he grunted.

“I…” Kenta stepped back, his heart skipping a beat. Then his shock turned to anger. “Fine. Go ahead,” he grunted, turning away.

Ryuga hesitated only for a moment before retreating into the basement. Kenta grunted as he sat at the table with his parents.

“He just got back and he's already pushing us all away,” Kenta sighed, pouring himself a bowl of cereal.

“Oh, he just needs some time alone, kiddo,” his dad replied, with a shrug. “Some people are like that. Social activity is draining for them so they need time alone every now and then.”

“But it seems like he wants to be alone all the time, even though he's living here.”

It had been a week and Ryuga didn’t seem to be feeling any better. He still avoided Kenta’s parents, in fact, he avoided any and all social interaction with anyone besides Kenta, and he still seemed so indifferent day in and day out. *He’s lost his passion.*

“He just needs space,” Kenta’s mom insisted, “He seemed really upset when he called me.”

Kenta looked up at her in surprise. “He called you?”

“He thought we were mad at him for not coming home.”

“Why would he think that?!” Kenta gasped, nearly dropping his spoon. 

“I don't know,” his mother sighed. “It was good of him to check in of course, but it was… worrying.” She turned to Kenta’s dad, who dipped his head.

“I know it’s none of our business but it makes me wonder if something happened to the kid,” he spoke in a low voice, as if he didn’t want Kenta to hear.

Kenta’s mother nodded. “Oh, I think that’s for certain.”

Kenta didn’t want to tell his parents that they were right: something had indeed happened to Ryuga… at Battle Bladers. However, he didn’t see how that event would make Ryuga wary of Kenta’s parents. There was no connection. *Is this a side effect of him missing Beyblade or is this a separate problem altogether?*

Regardless, Kenta knew one thing was true: the happiest he had ever seen Ryuga was when he was Beyblading. *There has to be some way he can Beyblade again.* Then he got an idea. Ryuga didn’t want to replace L-Drago likely because he believed no Beyblade could match its power, and he was somewhat correct. However, if he could design the bey himself… It seemed like a stretch but maybe Ryuga would be willing to try. The WBBA on the other hand…

*I have to at least try. Ryuga gave up his power for me, this is the least I can do for him in return.*

Once Kenta finished his breakfast, he went on his phone. He looked at his contacts. Gingka had spent the day yesterday with his dad but he was probably free now.

-Kenta: Gingka, can you meet me at bey park?-

-Gingka: For a bey battle?-

-Kenta: No, Sagittario’s still damaged. I just need to talk to you about something.-

-Gingka: Uhhhhhhhh okay.-

Kenta stood up and glanced at his parents.

“I’m going to see Gingka. Can you tell Ryuga I’m leaving?” *Since he hates being alone with you so much,* Kenta added silently to himself.

His dad nodded. “Sure thing, kiddo.”

“Have fun with your friend!" His mom called as he walked out the front door.

Kenta made his way toward Bey park, checking his phone every now and then to see if he had any messages from Gingka. He stopped in front of the building and looked around. Gingka was nowhere in sight. Kenta looked at his phone again, letting out a sigh.

"Hi Kenta!" Kenta perked up at the sound of Gingka's voice.

"Hey, Gingka!" Kenta greeted, putting his phone away. "How was your day with your dad?"

“Pretty good," Gingka answered, stopping in front of him. "So what was it you wanted to talk about?"

“I, uh…" *Okay, right to the point.* "I want to ask your dad something,” Kenta admitted, shifting in place a bit.

“Huh, what did you want to ask him?” Gingka asked, tilting his head to the side.

“It’s something WBBA related."

“You gonna tell me?”

Kenta gulped. “Don’t freak out, please."

“I won’t," Gingka replied, sounding genuine.

“I want…" Kenta paused to take a deep breath. "I want to ask the WBBA to make Ryuga a new Beyblade.”

Gingka stared at him. “Uh… they might-”

“I know they might not want to do it!" Kenta cut him off, his voice quivering as he went on, "But I have to at least try and ask! Ryuga’s been feeling so depressed and left out without Beyblade!”

“He told you that?” Gingka asked, his eyes wide.

“He didn’t have to. Ryuga’s like a brother to me, Gingka. I can tell when he’s upset and I can’t bear not doing anything about it.”

Kenta briefly wondered if Ryuga would be annoyed at him for saying they were like brothers. However, it was true in more ways than the obvious one. Kenta never knew what it was like to have siblings, so he looked up to both Gingka and Ryuga as older brothers.

“Kenta…” Gingka smiled a bit. “That’s really sweet… you can try asking my dad if you think it’ll help. I think he’s available right now.”

“Thanks, Gingka!” Kenta threw his arms around Gingka. His friend immediately hugged back, resting one hand on Kenta's head.

“Alright let's go," Kenta replied, stepping out of the hug and walking forward.

Gingka however stood still. “Uh, but the bus is that way…" he informed, pointing in the opposite direction.

Kenta shrugged. "We can walk there."

"Walk?!" Gingka gasped, his eyes wide. “But it's like... Two kilometres away!”

"Two kilometres?" Kenta bit back a chuckle. “Do you know how many kilometres Ryuga and I walked a day when we were travelling together?”

“Uh…”

Kenta shrugged. “I don't, but it was a lot of kilometres.”

“Yeah, no kidding,” Gingka chuckled, gesturing for Kenta to follow him.

The two chatted with each other the whole way to the WBBA headquarters. When they neared the director’s office, they fell silent. Kenta froze. *How am I going to ask them this? ‘Hey remember, Ryuga? The guy who stole the forbidden bey and hurt tons of people with it? Can you make a new bey for him?’ Now that Kenta was thinking about it, he realized just how crazy that might sound. Gingka pushed the office door open. Kenta shook himself from his thoughts, following Gingka inside.

“Hey, dad,” he greeted with a wave.

“Hello Gingka, Kenta,” his dad replied with a dip of his head.

Kenta froze. Gingka’s dad and Hikaru were sitting at the desk, looking over some important-looking documents. Hikaru… Kenta hadn’t counted on her being here.

“What brings the two of you here?” Hikaru asked, tilting her head to the side.

Gingka turned to Kenta.

“I, uh, well… I kinda…” Kenta cleared his throat. “I had something I wanted to ask the director.”

Kenta cast a sympathetic glance at Hikaru, remembering with a chill how Ryuga had attacked her during Battle Bladers. *I can’t just bring this up out of nowhere, especially not with her here.*

“Well, what is it?” Gingka’s dad prompted.

“It… it’s about Ryuga.”

Hikaru winced, letting out a small shriek.

Gingka’s dad stiffened. “What has he done?” he asked, his voice suddenly dark.

“Nothing!” Kenta exclaimed, stiffening with anger.

“Hikaru…” The director glanced at his assistant, whose eyes were wide and unfocused, as if her mind wasn’t fully present. Gingka glanced at her.

“Hey, Hikaru.” He stepped toward her casually. “Why don’t we leave these two to talk about things and get some ice cream or something?” he suggested, pulling the office door open.

“Yes, you can take a break, Hikaru,” Gingka’s dad added with a nod.

“I…” Hikaru dipped her head. “Thank you, director.”

Hikaru stood up and followed Gingka out of the room. They closed the door behind them, leaving Kenta and Gingka’s dad alone in the office.

“Is there a good reason you brought up that b-” Gingka’s dad cut himself off. “That Blader here?”

“He’s not a blader anymore, and I’m sorry. I…” *I didn’t know how else to bring it up.* “I had a request… for Ryuga.”

“For Ryuga?” Gingka’s dad asked, raising an eyebrow. “Why isn’t he here himself then?”

Kenta’s eyes narrowed. *Like you would want him here,* he thought, fighting the urge to roll his eyes.

“I haven’t told him yet,” Kenta explained, looking away. “I… I want to get him a new Beyblade. M-make him one, I mean. I-”

“A new Beyblade?” Gingka’s dad cut him off, sounding outraged. “For Ryuga?!”

“I know, I know it sounds crazy but Ryuga is my friend and he’s changed a lot since Battle Bladers. He’s been so depressed without Beyblade… I just want to help him.”

Gingka’s dad let out a sigh. “I understand wanting to help your friend but I cannot comply with this request.”

“Why not?” Kenta had admittedly expected this answer but he wasn’t going to give up this easily.

“It’s too dangerous, Kenta,” Gingka’s dad struggled to keep his voice down. “That kid shouldn’t have been allowed to hold a Beyblade again after Battle Bladers!” The man bristled with rage. He looked like he was seconds away from slamming his hands on the table but had stopped himself.

“Battle Bladers…” Kenta shivered. “With all due respect, director, that tournament was years ago now and Ryuga helped us defeat Nemesis last week, nearly at the cost of his life." Kenta forced his voice to remain steady as he shivered at that memory, "He has changed. Letting him Beyblade again won’t lead to a Neo Battle Bladers.”

Gingka’s dad looked unconvinced.

“Please,” Kenta sighed, his head hanging low. “At least give him a chance…”

“On some conditions…”

Kenta looked up at the director, letting out a squeak of happiness.

“He can’t enter any tournaments, not for a few months at least and I need to know that more than one person will be keeping him and his new bey in check.”

“Um… Well, there’s my parents…”

“That will work. I want one of you three present whenever he uses it.”

“Cool, cool.” Kenta nodded vigorously. He leaned over the desk, pleading with his eyes. “So when can we design the bey?”

Gingka’s dad let out a sigh. “Madoka can make a blueprint for the bey. Kenta, bring Ryuga here tomorrow at one pm. I want to speak to him first."

“Okay, I’ll let Ryuga know.” Kenta dipped his head. “Thank you, director!” he called, dashing out of the office.

*Well, that went well,* Kenta thought with a smile. He made his way out of the building. Then he froze. Hikaru and Gingka were standing just outside.

“Oh… hey guys,” Kenta greeted, forcing a smile and waving.

Hikaru glanced down at him. “Kenta…”

“Yeah?” Kenta froze.

He and Hikaru weren’t exactly friends; they just knew each other through Gingka and hadn’t talked much since Kenta had challenged her over and over again years ago now.

“Is it true?” Hikaru asked, raising an eyebrow. Her tone was almost accusatory.

“Is what true?”

“That Ryuga is living with you and your parents now?”

Kenta stiffened. “Y-yeah. He is. Did Gingka tell you?” he asked, casting a glance at his friend.

“Yeah…” Gingka rested his hand on the back of his neck. He turned to Hikaru. “Hikaru I-”

“Gingka,” Hikaru cut him off, her tone blunt. “I get that Ryuga’s different now and frankly, I don’t care. It doesn’t change what he did.”

“I… I know.” Gingka looked down at his feet.

“Yeah…” Kenta bit his lip. “We’re not asking you to forgive him.” *Even if he might not have been in full control of himself during Battle Bladers, what he did was still really messed up.* Kenta shivered at the memory.

“I… I should get going,” Hikaru replied, turning away. “I have a meeting with my therapist.”

Before either of them could reply, Hikaru dashed off. Kenta and Gingka turned to each other.

“Are we just not going to tell her that you asked the WBBA to make Ryuga a new bey?” Gingka asked, tilting his head to the side.

“I…” Kenta looked away. “I know telling the truth is the right thing but… I don’t want to be the one to tell her. She’ll freak out.”

“She’ll have to find out eventually. My dad will probably tell her at some point. Well…" Gingka forced a smile. "Worrying about it won't do anyone any good."

“Yeah," Kenta nodded in agreement.

“Do you want to hang out for a while? I know Sagittario's broken but we could do something at my house."

Kenta smiled and nodded. "Sure! Let's go!"

Gingka and Kenta walked side by side down the sidewalk, smiling as they chatted casually with each other.

------------

Kenta spent the entire morning with Gingka, playing video games and talking together before noon, when Kenta decided to head home for lunch. He hoped Ryuga would be home too. Kenta had yet to tell his friend about their meeting with the WBBA tomorrow. *I wonder how he'll react. He hates social situations, clearly, but if he wants to Beyblade again…*

Kenta stepped inside the house. He didn't see his dad anywhere, he was probably at work, but his mom was at the kitchen table, her gaze fixed on her laptop. She glanced up at him.

“Hi, Kenta,” she greeted with a smile.

“Hey, mom." Kenta smiled and waved. “Is… Ryuga still downstairs?”

“I think so. Unless he left without letting me know.” There was worry in her tone.

“I…" Kenta bit his lip. “I don't think he'd do that after… Well…”

“Right…” The two of them looked away, clearly remembering what happened that morning.

“Well, I’m gonna go check on him.”

Kenta pulled the door of the basement open and hopped down the stairs.

“Ryuga!” he called.

When he reached the foot for the stairs, Kenta scanned the mostly empty room, looking for his friend. Ryuga was sitting on the bed. He was still wearing his mother’s jacket and his gaze was intent on his phone.

“Ryuga…” Kenta stared at him for a moment. This was the first time he had ever actually seen him use his phone. “What are you doing…?”

Ryuga looked up at him and put the phone aside face down.

“What do you want?”

*Why is that always his response? I don’t always want something from him… do I? Am I too demanding?*

“We kind of have a meeting with…” Kenta stopped himself from saying ‘Gingka’s dad.’ “With the WBBA director tomorrow.”

Ryuga’s eyes narrowed. “Why?”

“I…” Kenta took a step back. “I asked them to make you a new Beyblade.”

“You did what?!” Kenta winced when Ryuga raised his voice. It didn’t scare him,  just made his head hurt. “Kenta, I am not replacing L-Drago,” Ryuga grunted, standing up.

“Why not?!” Kenta exclaimed, clenching his fists. “So what, it won’t be as powerful?! You’ll get to design it to your liking and you’ll be able to Beyblade again! Isn’t that what you want?”

“It’s not about L-Drago’s power.”

“Huh?” Kenta froze.

“I miss that too, but that’s not why I don’t want to replace L-Drago. Would you be able to replace Sagittario if you lost it?”

“I…” Kenta was taken aback by the sudden question. “No. Sagittario and I have a bond…”

“Exactly."

Kenta stared at him. He knew Ryuga valued L-Drago’s power above almost everything and assumed that was why he didn’t want to replace it.

“Really? After all that bey put you through, you still have a bond with it?!”

Ryuga nodded. “It was still my Beyblade… and no other bey can ever replace what L-Drago and I had.”

Kenta suddenly felt guilty for not even considering that. *I thought he only cared about the bey’s power? Do I really think that little of my own friend?*

Kenta let out a sigh. “Can… can you at least try?” *I went through all that effort…* Kenta kept that last part to himself. He didn’t want Ryuga to feel guilty; this wasn’t his fault.

Ryuga dipped his head. “Fine. When is this meeting?” he asked, sitting back down on the bed.

“One o’clock tomorrow.”

“In the afternoon?”

Kenta smiled and sat next to him. “Nah, we’re staying up past midnight to design your bey. Best get a nap in now.” He couldn’t help but smirk triumphantly at his own joke.

Ryuga smiled a bit. “Shut up, smart aleck.” He pushed Kenta over. It didn’t hurt; Ryuga had barely touched him yet it still made Kenta yelp in surprise.

“Hey!”

Kenta tried with all his might to push Ryuga over but couldn’t even make him budge. Ryuga just smiled and ruffled Kenta’s hair. Grunting with annoyance, Kenta decided to pull Ryuga into a hug, because that was the best revenge he could think of at the moment. Ryuga let out a grunt but hugged him back anyway.

“Kenta! Ryuga!” Kenta’s mother called. Kenta could feel Ryuga stiffen in front of him. “There’s food on the table!”

Ryuga let go of Kenta.

“We’ll be up in a minute!” Kenta called before turning to Ryuga. His friend was glaring down at the ground, his arms folded.

Kenta sighed, “Ryuga, we need to talk."

“We just did,” Ryuga grunted, standing up.

“Hey, wait!” Kenta jumped toward him, grabbing his arm and staring up at him desperately. “Why are you scared of my parents?”

“Scared?” Ryuga rolled his eyes. “I'm not scared of your overly doting parents.” He tried to pry Kenta off his arm.

“Really?” Kenta let go, his eyes narrowed. “Because it sure seems that way.”

“You're imagining things,” Ryuga grunted, turning away.

“Imagining what?” Kenta ran in front of Ryuga, standing between him and the stairs. He gazed up at him desperately. “Ryuga, please talk to me.”

Ryuga let out a sigh. He sat at the foot of the stairs, gesturing for Kenta to sit next to him.

“I know I upset them,” he grunted, his head hung low. “They just haven't done anything.”

Kenta stiffened. “What do you mean they haven’t ‘done anything?'” *What does he think they’ll do?*

“They can act nice all they want, I know they're mad at me. Why can't they just punish me and be done with it?”

Kenta couldn’t bite back a gasp of fury. “Why would they do that?! You didn't do anything wrong! It was an accident!”

“That doesn't matter.”

“Yes it does!”

Kenta thought back to his parents’ conversation earlier: *I know it’s none of our business but it makes me wonder if something happened to the kid.* Kenta fought back his anger. This wasn’t Ryuga thinking poorly of his parents, this was Ryuga, for whatever reason, being wary of trusting them.

“Who hurt you?" Kenta asked, raising an eyebrow.

Ryuga stiffened. “What?”

“You don't trust them because you're scared of being hurt again. Isn’t that it?” Kenta had no idea; he was just sort of guessing.

Ryuga didn't answer.

“Do you trust me?” Kenta asked.

Ryuga raised an eyebrow. “I gave you my power.”

“Yes or no, Ryuga. Tell me.” *I want a direct answer.*

Letting out a sigh, Ryuga nodded.

“Then trust me when I say that my parents are good people. If you trust me, you can trust them.”

Ryuga looked away. Kenta sighed. He hoped Ryuga would at least consider his words. Kenta's parents had given Ryuga no reason not to trust them, so why was he so suspicious of them?

“Hey, after lunch, do you want to go on a hike together?" Kenta suggested, trying to cheer him up. "It can be just like old times.”

“Old times?" Ryuga smirked a bit. “You mean when you stalked me?”

Kenta's jaw dropped. “I wasn’t stalking you!”

“Then what do you call following someone who doesn’t want you around?” Ryuga asked, raising an eyebrow.

“You-you wanted me around…”

“I didn’t at first.”

“Are we going or not?”

Ryuga nodded. Kenta smiled and the two of them walked up the stairs side by side. *He seems to be feeling a little better.*

[feckin-zicons]

Squids, Dancing, and Dirty thoughts... Not necessarily in that order or all at once.

Apparently people like this? I am more confused than Liam is in this chapter. Which you know, makes sense bc this character only exists in my head, but also doesn’t at all bc I have no idea what goes on in there most of the time. Anyway this is for Zayn, Oxford commas, @stanmedusa who pointed out Zayn was also an Oxford comma stan, @redyellowberry, and their anon to started this mess. Also please imagine Zayn with his current blue hair, but also with his long Aladdin hair bc that’s what I’ve been doing and oh holy gods do I need that to happen. Please. Hair gods make it happen I’m begging

Same warnings as ever its 4AM, this is much longer than planned, and I have no interest in editing, making it sound coherent, or good. No, I don’t know about the squids either.

Parts 1&2 here

Liam would like to point out while he's not a stranger to feeling confused, he's still having trouble pinpointing how exactly he got to be Dance Mistress Irina Alinova's personal bitch. 

Ever since he accidentally interrupted one of the dance practises while looking for a missing prop for Director Corden, more and more of them started disappearing only to show up in the basement. No one else was interested in facing the Dance Mistresses' wrath, but Liam didn't mind the yelling. As long as Mistress Alinova didn't start throwing things, he figured he was safe enough. After all, it gave him the chance to see the blue haired ballerino again.  

Zayn Malik, the god in mortal form, the prima ballerino, the prettiest man Liam had ever seen, who had no idea who Liam even was. 

Liam had it bad. 

Liam had it so bad.

Liam had it so bad he tripped over thin air, spilled hot coffee over himself, and walked into a door when he thought he saw him at a Costas with Louis. The man he saw wasn't Zayn, thank fuck, but the entire sequence of events did give Louis more ammunition to tease him with. Stupid pretty boys with long blue hair and piercings sent from hell just to ruin Liam's life. Yeah, he was a goner. 

Louis dragged out the whole sorry story after Liam texted him about spiking his lunch and laughed himself sick knowing just how much of a mess Liam became around people he was interested in. They still didn't talk about Danielle. Which was a good thing considering the end of that relationship had Liam pretty much swearing off women for the rest of his life. No pussy was worth that mess. Dick though? Liam was willing to take that chance on Zayn, even if asking Harry didn't give him much information. 

According to Harry, Zayn had been around for a few years but mostly kept to himself or the other dancers. There was something about him throwing a fit a few weeks before Liam showed up. Upset about being forced to learn the choreography for Winston's show when it was just going to fail on opening night like it always did. 

Liam thought he had a point, considering. He didn't know what bananas, ballet, and really bad rapping had to do with King James VI but didn't want to voice that in front of the man playing the gay king. No one dared fire Zayn, considering he kept the whole theatre afloat, but it also didn't make many actors happy with him. Especially not Mizz Wendy Williams, who played Marie Antoinette in the play. Again, Liam had a lot of questions he didn't dare ask out loud. It's not like he was ever good at history, so it was entirely possible the two lived in the same time period. Or it was some sort of allegory that went over his head like the aristocrats wearing banana suits did. 

Louis always found his stories about his placement hilarious, but even that one had him wondering if there wasn't some sort of gas leak in their apartment. It wouldn't have been the first time, or the second. Most likely, it was the theatre that was growing some sort of mold that caused insanity if breathed in. Some of the things Liam had been forced to clean in the past few weeks were unspeakable. 

But even that probably couldn't explain Zayn Malik. Nothing could explain that sort of beauty and talent. Or those hands... and thighs... and fingers. Ung. Liam would love to get up close and personal with all of him.  

Either way, Liam had just been cleaning the mirrors in the practice room, humming along to Brandy and Monica on the radio, wondering if Niall was actually going to come down and help him instead of hiding away like a coward. Again. By the second verse, he'd given up trying not to sing along, not expecting anyone to come by. It was late, the dancer's practise long over, and Winston left screaming over an hour ago. Liam would have done a recce and skipped out on the last half hour if one of the managers wasn't sticking around still. Piers Morgan, an absolute cunt who treated the lads on probation like hardened criminals, and he was the prison warden. Despite, you know, most of the lads on summary probation, and Liam’s arson charge being the most serious crime out of all of them. 

Anyway, the last thing he's expecting is for anyone to come in while he's singing about the boy being his, rolling his body to the beat. Which is probably how he ends up tripping over himself when he notices Zayn leaning up against the open door, watching him. Watching him, in bright, tight, teal dance tights (were dance tights usually blue? They should be) that looked nice with his hair and complimented the gold tones of his skin. The skin he could see a lot of. Because he was shirtless. Because he was shirtless and had a lot more tattoos than Liam realized. Tattoos Liam wanted to bite. Not hard enough to make a mark or anything, that would be sacrilegious, but enough to make him make a sound. God, Liam hoped he was a moaner. Not that he thought he had a chance with Zayn or anything, but it would be a shame if Zayn was the type that stayed quiet during sex. 

Except he wasn't being quiet now, he was talking. And Liam was staring at him, like an idiot, not paying attention. Because he was an idiot. 

Oh fuck, oh fuck, oh fuck, why did this always happen to him? 

"Er, what?" Liam asked, desperately hoping he didn't sound as stupid as he felt right then, which was pretty fucking stupid. He probably looked even stupider than he felt and ruined his chances at ever-

"I asked if you were almost done? Was planning on practising more tonight," Zayn answered him. 

Zayn, Zayn Fucking Malik, answered him, and he was still staring at him like an idiot. Shit Liam say something.

"Pretty" 

Not that you idiot.

"What?" Zayn asked, looking confused and adorable.

Oh god, he was precious. Was that a smile? Was he smiling at him? Liam? Oh no.

"Pretty much, I meant. Pretty much done," Liam replied, wishing the ground would swallow him whole. "Just one more mirror, and I'll be out of your way."

There, those were words, sentences even. Now all he had to do was act normal and finish cleaning. Easy. 

"So, Brandy and Monica, right? You like R'n'B then?" Zayn asked him, walking into the room with a heavy dance bag, setting it off to the side.

Liam felt himself flushing as he turned back around to finish cleaning the mirror so Zayn wouldn't see.  "Yeah," he answered, trying not to peek at Zayn bending over as he rifled through his belongings. 

Those legs, Fuck. Liam wondered what it'd feel like to have them around his- 

"I didn't expect that," Zayn said, drawing Liam out of his filthy thoughts, and making him turn back around.

"What?"

"No, I- I didn't mean it in a bad way or anything. I guess I just expected you to listen to more rock?" 

Liam was pretty sure he missed half of the conversation somewhere. Was Zayn blushing? He was so pretty. Wow. 

"No, I like everything," he replied dumbly. They were still talking about music, right? That would make sense. Why was Zayn talking to him again? God, Liam couldn't handle this. "Do you like it? The music, I mean."

"Yeah, grew up listening to ‘em. My older sister was obsessed with Monica. So... Who's your favourite artist?" 

"Artist? Oh uh, I've been listening to a lot of Post Malone? How about you? What do you- who do you listen to?" 

"Post Malone's sick, mate. I like most music I guess, but I've been listening to a lot of The Weekend."

"Have you heard his new album?"

"Yeah, it's sick! Do you-" Zayn was cut off by Niall running in out of breath. The bright orange tee that labelled him as one of the community service workers was wet and stained black. Actually.. all of him was soaked and stained black. Was that ink?

"Hey, Payno, are you done yet because we have a situation upstairs," Niall gasped out, hands on his knees, looking like he'd just seen his life flash before his eyes. 

"What the hell happened to you?" 

"There's a squid stick in the toilet." 

"There's a what?"

"A Squid! A giant fucking squid in the toilet!" 

Liam blinked in confusion, trying to wrap his head around why there would be a squid anywhere near the theatre let alone one of the toilets. Did Corden want live animals in his show now? Or Winston. It could be either of them. 

"Why do you need me?" he asked. "I don't know anything about squids."

Niall sounded like he was at the end of his rope when he replied, "You know something about plumbing at least!" 

"Not a lot! Enough to keep the water on at home, but I'm not a plumber." 

"Doesn't matter, we need your help, Ashtons gone to find some butter," Niall said, stomping back around, leaving behind a trail of watery black ink. "We'll meet you upstairs when you're done."

"Wait, what do you need butter for?!" Liam called after him but didn't get a reply. Butter? How was butter going to help?

A muffled giggle distracted Liam from his thoughts, and he was abruptly reminded Zayn was still in the room. Zayn, might as well be a god, was in the room, and Liam was just talking about squids in toilets.

Why him?

"I guess I should go see what they need help with?" Liam tried to say without sounding... Well, he wasn't sure what the proper response was in this situation or how to react to it. 

Zayn smiled at him, and oh. How was it possible he looked even more attractive now? 

Liam thinks Zayn said something about the other lads needing him and it sounding urgent, but really, Liam was in a daze until he also got a face full of ink... From another squid in an entirely different toilet. 

What the fuck.

Louis was never going to let him live this down. 

Really? Squids???

[marvelmadam08]

Meanwhile, In Quarantine...

Part of 100 Days of Marvel

Prompt 7: Well which is it? I’m getting nervous. // Prompt 79: You just ignored rule one through five. // Prompt 39: We’re gonna die here. // Prompt 11: I remind myself murder, even attempted, is illegal.

A/N: I’m on day seven or nine (honestly I lost count) of my quarantine, and I am slowly loosing my mind. Then I thought ‘What would the Avengers do during this quarantine?

~~~~~

One Week Earlier

“Miss (Y/N), Mr. Stark is calling for a mandatory team meeting in the common area.” Friday announces to you, interrupting your workout

“Right now?” you huffed out

“Yes, he says it’s urgent.”

You were the last to show up, annoyed and sweaty. Nat seemed to be the only other one who looked as annoyed as you, with her hair wrapped in a towel. Bucky, Sam and Steve lounged on the couch, while Clint was sharpening his arrows. Wanda and Vision stood off to the side to themselves. Thor sat next to Peter, who was hunched over his homework and Bruce stood next to Tony by the muted television displaying the news.

“Everyone here?” Tony pointed to everyone “Good, well I’m not sure if you all heard about this whole ‘virus’ that’s going around.”

“The Coronavirus?” Steve asked

“That’s the one,” Bruce nods “there have been a few cases popping up throughout the city, as well as the country, and within the next few days the entire country is going to be on mandatory quarantine.”

“Quarantine?” Peter spoke up “Like we can’t leave the country?”

“No, as in you can’t leave your house. And that includes The Compound and Tower as well.”

The room erupted in numerous hisses of disagreement. 

“Half of us don’t even need to be in quarantine.” Nat stated loudly

“Yeah, stupid super soldiers.” you muttered

“That’s uncalled for.” Bucky gave you a stink eye 

“Doesn’t matter, we’re being order by the government and Fury to stay put.” Tony tells you all “Parker, I’m only gonna say this once, you to stay put. No school, no parties, no dates.”

“But here at The Compound would be more ideal, seeing as it’s away from the city.” Bruce adds softly

“So we’re stuck here?” Wanda asks “For how long?”

“Well they say the quarantine could last between two weeks to two months.”

“Well which is it? I’m getting nervous.” Sam unmuted the TV

‘....stores have already begun to run out of water, toilet paper, and even baby wipes...’

Day 1

You, Wanda and Laura (Clint’s wife) were organizing the last of the quarantine supplies. Clint couldn’t stomach the idea of not being with them during the whole pandemic, so he asked to bring them up until everything blew over.

“Okay so the kitchen is fully stocked, all the cleaning supplies are put away.” Wanda sighed “It’s kind of scary, how everyone is reacting out there.”

“Yeah, I had to wrestle some hand sanitizer from some grown woman wearing a face mask and rubber gloves.” Laura admits

“I wish I could’ve seen that, since you had Nate strapped to your chest.” 

“Speaking of, I should go check on him.” 

Just as Laura walked out, Steve, Bucky and Peter walked in with large pizzas in their hands.

“This is the last of take out for the next few weeks. Enjoy it while it lasts.” Steve tells us

Everyone swarmed for their chosen slices before gravitating towards the TV to get an update on the quarantine. You were instructed to stay inside, only to leave unless it was absolutely necessary, and then return back to respective homes. Keep your contact with other people down to a minimum, and overall to sanitize and wash often. 

“This is what I do on a regular basis.” Bucky scoffed

“Same.” Wanda and Nat chimed in

“This is gonna be so cool, like one big party.” Peter clapped

A few of the other groaned at Peter’s optimism.

“The kid is right,” Tony agreed “most times we’re on missions for weeks at a time. How is this any different?”

“He does make a point.” Vision nods “And surely there’s enough room for everyone to find their own thing.”

Day 4

You glared at Bucky, who was tapping his pen against his teeth, while trying to figure out the crossword puzzle in front of him. You were trying to do silent yoga, silent being the key word.

“Barnes, can you stop that?” you said through your teeth

“Stop what?” he paused

“Tapping the pen on your teeth.”

“It helps me think. Why aren’t you in the gym?”

“Because I can’t take Steve and Nat talking smack when they spar each other. And Sam is playing his music too loud, and his room is next to mine.”

“And it’s the tapping that bothers you?”

“Forget it.” you closed you eyes again and worked on tuning Bucky out

Tony hurried in, scanning around the room “Has anyone seen Parker? I can’t find him and neither can his aunt. (Y/L/N)?”

“Shh, doing silent yoga.” You hushed “And no, I haven’t.”

“He left.” Clint spoke from above the rest of you. There was a small whirling noise, and metal scrapping against more metal, then Clint and his daughter poked their head out from the vent above us.

“What do you mean he left?”

“He said something about building a death star.” The younger Barton, Lila, answered

“Friday, override and track the kid’s phone for me.” 

“Of course Mr. Stark.”

Tony turned his attention to the TV, tapping on his phone and started to call Peter over video. At this point you gave up on silent yoga and just laid out on the mat. Peter’s face popped up on the screen but he wasn’t looking at his phone 

“Trust me, they don’t even know I’m gone.” he told someone off screen 

“Hello Mister Parker.” Tony waves

“Mr. Stark!” He hurried to pick up his phone “Hey, hi... um that’s so funny I was just about to come down to the lab, from my room.... which is where I am.... right now.”

“Oh you’re in your room? Not at Ned’s place building legos?”

He paused “No? I just got so bored! And there were so many rules to just stay in.”

“There were six rules max, and you just ignored rule one through five!”

“Are you sure he’s not your kid?” you chuckled

Day 7

“Twenty-three bottles of pop on the wall.” Sam half sung, eyelids closed, while rocking Nate to sleep

Steve and Bucky were each cuddling a plush stuffed animal on the floor. Morgan ran back and forth between poking Steve with a wooden spoon and the spot where she had a pile of cookies waiting on a plate. And Lila and Cooper were on their phones, headphones in, and not paying attention to their surroundings.

“What the hell you guys?” Nat groaned

“Ooh Auntie Nat said a bad word.” Morgan giggled

“Hey Monster.”

“Auntie (Y/N)!” Morgan jumped over Bucky and ran over to climb up your side until she reached your shoulders. “Guess what, I got to have cookies and chicken nuggets, gummies and a bunch of soda.”

“Nat? (Y/N)?” Bucky lifted his head from the floor, a flattened gummy beard on the other side of his cheek “Please tell me the others are back too.”

“On the contrary, Clint and Tony wanted to know if you wouldn’t mind watching the kids a little while longer.” Nat went to relieve Sam from baby duty “Tony talked to the mayor and got her to extend the quarantine curfew for their double date night.”

The three men groaned, you swore you saw a tear in Steve’s eye.

“We’re gonna die here.” Sam curled into a ball 

“Why did we agree to babysit?” Steve spoke into the stuffed penguin he held 

“Nat, maybe we should help them out.” You held Morgan tightly while she flipped upside down from your shoulders “They’re only men.”

“When the Earth spins, how do we know when we’re upside down?” Morgan poked you in the back 

“Tell you what, clean up your mess, we’ll go get in our pj’s and then I’ll tell you.” you carefully set her back down on the floor, she ran off, picking up her toys and stray snacks 

“Coop, Lila, your homework better be done, because if I have to check myself-.” Nat started. 

They jumped up from their seats and rushed out the room, Steve looked up at you and Nat in awe, Nate fast asleep in her arms.

“How did you-”

“We have a way with kids, don’t take it personally.” 

“Done!” Morgan cheered before pulling at your arm “Can we get in our pj’s now?”

Nat chuckled “Let’s go princess, (Y/N) will meet us there. You can help me get Nate ready for bed.”

Morgan took Nat’s free hand and skipped along side her. You took the stuffed animals and blankets from the guys.

“How did four children manage to out-do two super soldiers and a former air force vet?” you asked

“They’re small, but stealthy.” Sam yawned “Morgan has been asking us that spinning Earth question for hours.”

“I tried to explain how the Earth rotates but she told me I was wrong.” Bucky added

“Oh, it’s a joke. How do you know when the Earth turned upside down?” you paused, waiting for one of them to guess the answer “Fall time.”

Day 12

“What is this called again?” Thor points to Peter’s phone screen

“Twitter.” 

“Twitter? Like the sound a bird makes? Oh and there’s a symbol of a bird there.” he laughed “Humans are so creative. Tell me Son of Stark, what is Twitter’s purpose?”

“Uh.... basically you just post whatever’s on your mind.” Peter handed over his phone to Thor “Sometimes people will like it, and retweet it, or leave a comment.”

“Please tell me you didn’t make Thor a Twitter page.” You spared a glance from your book

“He asked me to show him. What’s the worse that could happen?”

One Hour Later

“Who gave Thor a Twitter page?” Steve marched into the kitchen

You immediately point to Peter.

“He wanted to know about social media. I didn’t think it’d do any harm.” Peter blurted out

“What did he do?” You asked

“He keeps posting.” Steve scrolled through the tablet in his hand “Things like ’What is black twitter?’, ‘poptarts and coffee’, ‘Just noticed how Director Fury sounds like the freeze man in this Disney movie’, ‘Over heard Natasha and Wanda judging who had the best ass. Barnes or Rogers. Clearly it’s me’ He’s trending.”

“Steve it’s harmless fun, he’s excited to be apart of Midgard culture.” you dismissed “Or are you upset because you weren’t voted for the best bum?”

“You should see his latest, and most liked, tweet.” Steve handed the tablet to you with a smirk

“‘Pretty sure (Y/N) and Barnes are dating. How else do you explain their sexual tension?’ I’m gonna kill you Parker.” You went to grab Peter but Steve pulled you away at the last second

“You don’t mean that.” Peter started to back out of the kitchen “Do you?”

“Who gave Thor a Twitter?” Bucky spoke from the other room

“I can give you a ten second head start.” Steve warns Peter

Day 15

“I can’t take this anymore, no missions, no take out, I can’t even go get a freaking smoothie.” You paced from one end of your room to the other “I thought this thing was only suppose to be two weeks.”

“Well Tony said two weeks or two months.” Bucky lounged on your bed, playing with the rubic’s cube “Looks like it’s gonna be two months.”

“How are you staying calm?”

“I remind myself murder, even attempted, is illegal. Plus I’ve been in isolation most of my adult life, so this doesn’t seem so bad.”

“Right.” you said softly “Sorry.”

“For what?”

“I’m complaining about being stuck in here, for my health when you’ve had it way worse.”

“Hey,” he caught your hand and pulled you closer “Don’t apologize, I know you didn’t mean any harm. And you tend to get cabin fever when we go on long surveillance missions. These next few days are gonna fly by, trust me.”

He trailed his hands up and down your arms, traveling to your waist and under your shirt.

“Uh-huh Barnes, not again.” you pulled away slightly “Vision and Wanda almost caught us last time.”

“Because you weren’t quiet.” he kissed up your torso

“No, because you dragged me into a linen closet for wearing shorts.”        

Bucky gave you a small pout “I’m from the 1940′s doll, I fantasized about your calves when I first met you. And that we’re... is this considered dating or are we just messing around during the lock down?”

“I hope this means we’re dating.” you combed his hair back with your fingers “I’m not the kind of girl that you hump and dump.”

“Hump and what?”

You chuckled “Nevermind.” You straddled his waist, he gripped yours a little tighter “So Sergeant, you gonna take me on a date after this quarantine?”

“I’ll take you to Rome as long as you keep calling me ‘Sergeant’ doll.” he left soft kisses on your neck

“Mmm.” 

“(Y/N).” Steve knocked on your door “Have you seen Bucky? I’m looking for him.”

“Nope, haven’t seen him.” Bucky pulled your shirt over your head, and tried to add to the bite marks he left the other day, but Steve wasn’t letting up.

“You know where he might be?”

You rolled your eyes and made Bucky stop “Have you checked the garage?”

“Why would he be in the garage?”

“Steve, pal, can it wait?” Bucky shouted “I kinda got my hands full in here.”

“Oh.” You could only imagine how red Steve’s face was at that moment. 

“You are horrible James Barnes.” you giggled

“Sergeant.” he corrected you in a low growl

“Sergeant.” you brought your lips down to his, quickly fighting for dominance in the kiss. Bucky flipped you over, the bed squeaking under your shared weight

“Uh- should I go now?” Steve asked

[atomicwedgienerd]

The Grease

Eddy had that kind of hair that made people jealous. It was thick, wavy, and he never seemed to have to do anything to it. He woke up in the morning, ran his fingers through his hair, and just went about the day. His messy bedhead always looked intentional but it was nothing more than good genes and the luck of the draw, and that was the way Eddy liked it. He viewed his hair as the perfect extension of his personality: carefree, wild, and completely untamed. And despite the fact that he put very little effort into things, Eddy always came out on top. He had coasted his way through high school, charmed his way through college, and now he had half-assed his way to a position as an art director for one of the west coast’s premiere surfboard companies. The work was easy, and it left him plenty of time every day for surfing. Eddy had it made.

One day on his way back from the beach, Eddy caught a passing glimpse of himself in a shop window. He could see that his mane was getting unruly, even for himself. All that saltwater was good for volume but damn could it do a number on split ends. Even a guy like Eddy knew you had to do some upkeep. As he continued on his way home, he noticed a barbershop he hadn’t seen before: Berger and Sons. From the striped pole out front to the subway tile lining the walls, this place looked like one of the classic shops you’d see if you googled “1950s barbershop.” Eddy had seen a few of these retro throwback barbershops open in different spots over the city but they had always seemed a little too traditional for a guy like him. Regardless, Eddy had a meeting the next week with a client and figured it couldn’t hurt to have a little touch up on his flowing locks. Plus, if he did it now, it wouldn’t look like he had gotten all dolled up for the meeting. Looking like he didn’t care was alllllll part of Eddy’s allure.

A bell tinkled as he entered the shop and Eddy immediately noticed the smell. A sweet but nearly antiseptic odor hit his nose, reminding him of his grandfather right after he had shaved. Yep, this place was definitely old school. The barber waved him over and patted the seat, inviting Eddy to sit down.

“Welcome to Berger and Sons,” he said. “Let me guess, you want a headshave?” Before Eddy could even react, the barber had burst out laughing. “Just a little light barber humor!”

“Very light,” Eddy deadpanned. “I’m not looking for anything too crazy. Just wanna get these split ends cleaned up.” 

“Ah, an easy enough task,” said the barber as he threw the cape over Eddy’s body and began spritzing his hair with a mist. 

“So is it just you?” asked Eddy, looking around at the otherwise empty barbershop. “I thought the sign said Berger and Sons.” 

“Well, I’m Nestor Berger,” he explained. “So that part’s accurate. Don’t actually have any sons but I figured the name would convey the sort of traditional barbershop experience I try to offer. You see, in these modern times, there’s a lot of people who don’t really appreciate the…” The barber’s voice started to trail off. The scent from the mist he had sprayed in Eddy’s hair was so powerful--so sweet and intoxicating--that Eddy had started to zone out. He felt warm, he felt comfortable, and he felt relaxed. The shop drifted away from him and suddenly he felt someone tapping him on his shoulder.

“Sir? Sir!” said the barber until Eddy snapped back. “What do you think?” Eddy’s eyes came back in focus and he saw his reflection in the mirror and gasped. The barber had ruined his hair. Where his flowing bedhead had been was now a heavily slicked, extremely greasy, and overly combed hairstyle the likes of which one would see on someone from the 1950s. 

“I just asked for the split ends cleaned up!” Eddy bellowed. 

“And that’s really all I did!” smiled the barber. “Ok, I may have taken a little bit off here and there but there’s still length.” The barber showed Eddy the back of the hairstyle in a handheld mirror where the sides and top had been slicked back into a greasy tail. “I just figured I would give you a more dapper appearance. This is a homemade hair grease you know. You can only get it here.”

“Well I didn’t ask for it,” Eddy said as he threw off the cape and stood up to leave. “No wonder your shop is so empty! Maybe try listening to your customers!”

“A barber has to do what he knows is right for each customer,” the barber grinned. “Trust me, you’ll be back!”

“The fuck I will,” Eddy said as he stormed out the shop.

He was furious! He stopped to gawk at himself in a parked car’s side view mirror. This nerdy retro haircut was the opposite of everything Eddy was about! It was rigid, traditional, and just plain uncool. He felt his phone buzz in his pocket. It was his buddies asking him out for a night of drinks. “Sure,” he texted back. “Just let me go home and wash my hair real quick.”

Eddy had never washed his hair that intensely in his life. He shampooed it twice, conditioned it thrice! He even blow dried it. He put a little salt spray in it and when he felt it looked the right level of mussed, he got dressed and headed out to meet his buddies.

---

Lee, Kirk and Drew were at the bar doing shots when Eddy walked in. He waved at them and they gave him an odd glance and ignored him, before Lee did a double take and started cackling. “Eddy! Over here!” Eddy jogged over to join his pals. 

“We saved a shot for you,” Drew said, laughing. “So uh, what’s going on here? Trying out a new look?”

“Well I washed my hair,” Eddy said, “but I wouldn’t say it’s a new…” He caught a glimpse of himself in the mirror behind the bar. Eddy’s hair was back in the heavily greased, retro sidepart he had when he stormed out of the barbershop. It looked just as fresh as when he snapped out of his weird daze and saw it for the first time. He touched it in horror and as he pulled his hand away from his hair, his fingers came back with a thick sheen of greasy, oily product that overwhelmed him with that same scent he remembered from the barber shop. His eyes went blank for a moment before he snapped back to reality.

“It’s.. nice,” Kirk said with a wry smile as he handed his buddy the shot of whiskey. “Just very different.” Eddy took the shot and paused. What was going on? He had washed his hair… hadn’t he? He did have to admit though: the haircut did look sort of nifty. Nifty? Where did that word even pop into his head? 

He laughed and threw back his head, downing the shot. It burned terribly, like he had never tasted alcohol before and he began coughing and sputtering as the shot came back up and sprayed on his friends. They erupted in laughter at him. 

“Maybe you should get a glass of milk instead,” Lee said. Eddy protested--although it did sound kind of nice. But no, he was a grown man. He could drink a beer! But even that didn’t seem very nice.

“You know what guys? I’m not feeling super nifty.” There was that damn word again. “I think I’m going to go home and get some rest.”

“Come on, man! It’s still early!” Kirk shouted. 

“No no,” said Drew. “Let the man get his rest. Hope you feel niftier tomorrow.” Eddy blushed. His face felt on fire. His friends were mocking him! He stormed out the door as he could hear his friends burst into laughter. 

“Gosh darnit!” Eddy blurted as he marched down the street. He had intended to use stronger language but it just didn’t come out that way. How strange. When he got home, he decided to put on some football to calm his nerves but stopped on a channel showing old episodes of Leave It To Beaver. He couldn’t help himself. He had to watch.

By 10pm, he was already fast asleep.

------

Eddy’s alarm went off at 6 in the morning. He shot to attention and was shocked when he saw the time. He hadn’t been up at 6 in the morning in years, and yet, his phone had it listed as an alarm that went off every day.

He went to go brush his teeth and was shocked to see his hair still stuck in that crisp, greasy and exceptionally conservative side part. He hopped in the shower and scrubbed and shampooed and when he finally got out, his hair was a sopping, stringy mess. Thank goodness. The grease was finally out, and, just to be safe, Eddy decided to let it air dry. After all, he had plans to go surfing with the boys later, provided they weren’t going to be too mean to him after last night.

Eddy actually felt intimidated by that, which was ridiculous. He had always been the leader and now he felt concerned about what the other guys would think! It was just one rough night; they would forget it soon enough. After all, Eddy was the best surfer among them and he would re-assert himself at the top of the food chain. He gave himself a smile in the mirror as a familiar scent began to wash over him: the same scent from the barber shop.

Suddenly, Eddy’s phone rang and he found himself dazed in a strange location. He didn’t quite know where he was. He answered the phone.

“Bro where the fuck are you?” he heard Kirk say, the sound of waves crashing coming through the phone. “You were supposed to be here an hour ago!”

Where the fuck was he? Eddy looked around and realized he was in some sort of convention hall. Tables and tables stretched in all directions, each of them covered in protective lucite boxes containing… stamps!? He saw the banner: West Coast Philatelist Convention. 

“I’m at a philately convention,” he said.

“A what, bro?”

“Stamps,” Eddy said. “It’s a stamp collector. It’s a convention for stamp collectors.” The sound of unmistakable laughter arose from the other side of the phone.

“He’s at a stamp collecting convention!” he heard Kirk say to the others whose laughter quickly echoed from the receiver. “Well, uh, I hate to interrupt that exciting occurrence but you gonna join us at the beach?”

“Of course,” said Eddy. “I just wanted to stop in here and uh…. Look I’ll be there soon, ok!?” He quickly hung up in shame. He started heading for the door when he caught his reflection in a piece of lucite and gasped.

The hair had come back. Greasier than before. He touched it and his hand came away with a thick coating of sticky wet hair product. His hair was practically dripping. Then, Eddy caught the rest of his reflection. He was dressed in a pair of grey dress slacks and a white button down shirt. Tucked. In.

Something was wrong. Eddy would never wear this. He looked like a little dork! He had to get home, but first, he was going to stop at that barber shop and get some answers! He headed for the door but then he caught a glimpse of some fascinating stamps.

“Oooh those are actually pretty neato!” he said aloud. He couldn’t believe he was saying that… or thinking it. But he when he got close to the table, he was dazzled by how cool the stamps were. A vintage series commemorating Star Trek! They were so awesome! He couldn’t help himself. He pulled out his wallet and hesitated.

What was he doing? This wasn’t him. But these stamps were really neato completo. What the heck? Life is short. He plunked down his credit card and bought a few, as well as a book to store them in. 

“You’re gonna need to fill that up, sonny!” smiled the vendor. Eddy couldn’t help himself. He desperately wanted to leave and meet up with his buddies but he couldn’t help himself from examining other tables, buying more vintage stamps, and striking up conversations with other philatelists. Before he knew it, the convention was closing and it was time to go. His phone had dozens of missed calls and texts from the boys wondering where he was. Something very strange was going on indeed.

As he headed back to his apartment with his new stamp book full of old stamps, he spotted a vintage store with a display in the window. The mannequin was dressed in a way that should have made Eddy recoil. It was dressed in a short sleeved white button down with a thin black bowtie. The black flat front slacks came up to its belly button and were cinched with a thin brown belt. On its feet, vintage white crew socks hung in furls as they went into the shiny black penny loafers. This was the outfit of an unmistakable nerd, a relic of a bygone era representing a sort of clean cut, goody two shoes attitude that had always revolted Eddy. But for a brief moment, he saw his reflection where the mannequin’s head was, his face and slicked up hair on the outfit. It almost seemed right, but he shook his head and snapped out of it. 

In a panic, Eddy headed back to his hip apartment and slammed the door. He turned on the TV and tried to relax but couldn’t. Eventually, he flipped to an old episode of Leave It To Beaver and found himself mesmerized. Everyone was so polite and clean cut and old-fashioned. By 9pm, he was asleep.

Before Eddy knew it, it was already 6pm Sunday evening. He had no idea where the time had gone but when he looked around his apartment, he began to get dizzy. Everything looked… different. That’s when memories came flooding back. 

He saw himself at 6am, waking up nice and early, and calling a company to come take his furniture away. Then a flash and he was at the antique store flashing his credit card around and buying all kinds of retro furniture. Another flash and he was at the vintage store loading up a cart with dorky looking clothes. And another flash and he was back at the apartment, showing movers where to place all his many purchases.

Another flash and he was back in the present, standing in his apartment which he no longer recognized. The entire thing looked like it was a set from Leave It To Beaver. His flat screen TV had been replaced with an old woodpaneled TV from the 50s with an antenna on it. His workout equipment replaced with a chess table and two chairs. His slick leather couch was gone and in its place was a floral patterned retro sofa. Everything about his apartment looked old fashioned and drab. All of his records had been replaced as an LP of Bert Kaempfaert’s greatest hits played over the hifi. He ran to his room and gasped. His waterbed had been replaced with a single twin mattress, the bland gray sheets tucked and folded with military precision. Then, he caught a glimpse of himself in the mirror and nearly fainted.

He was wearing a pair of shiny red Converses with white socks and cuffed, deep blue, highwaisted straight legged jeans. His shirt, an orange and green plaid number, was tucked into and fastened in place with a cheap brown belt. In the pocket of the shirt, a pristine white pocket protector sat overloaded with pens and pencils and tools. A dorky white undershirt poked out from under the button down. On top of all that, he had a bright red cardigan with white piping and a big letter B like he was in school or something. He was dressed like he was president of the chess club 1955! And of course, on top of his head, sat an exceedingly greasy slicked haircut that was now nearly jet black. He touched it in horror as his fingers came away thick with the grease.

The grease! This had all started with the grease and that barber shop and that awful barber! He would have answers to what was going on. He could help Eddy undo whatever was happening. Eddy would go and find him and get this all sorted out. But not dressed like this! He tore through his closet and found most of his clothes had been replaced. That would be a pain to fix. But in the top, in a corner he must have missed earlier, he found some sweatpants and an old tank top. He didn’t look as cool as he had hoped, but it was better than the Leave It To Beaver nerd look he had been sporting earlier. 

Eddy ran out onto the street and started hurrying to the barber shop. As he waited at an intersection, he saw himself in a window and gasped. Somehow, he was back in that outfit! The cardigan, the dorky shirt, the highwaisted jeans! Something strange was going on. The grease was changing him, affecting his perception. He had to get to the bottom of this.

A few more blocks and he found himself across the street from Berger and Sons Barbershop. The lights were on so Eddy knew he could get some answers. But the light wouldn’t change. Eddy waited and waited but it didn’t change. There was no traffic. He could just jaywalk across the street. But try as he might, he couldn’t get himself to do it. A little voice in his head kept telling him that it was against the rules. Since when had that mattered? Eddy never followed any rules! But he simply HAD to all of a sudden. His rebellious nature was defeated and he could not cross the street without the light changing. 

It didn’t. Something was stopping it from happening and Eddy couldn’t cross. Defeated, he returned home, fiddled with his TV antenna, and fell asleep watching more Leave It To Beaver.

--------

“Eddy, can I have a word with you in my office?” he heard his boss saying. Eddy blinked and found himself in the conference room of his office, his coworkers staring at him with a smattering of cheeky smirks and barely restrained laughter. He recognized the clients he had a meeting with on Monday but… was it already Monday? He looked down and groaned. He saw it: the outfit from the mannequin. The dorky bowtie, the short white sleeved shirt, the flat fronted highwaisted pants, the slouchy white socks, and of course the super shiny penny loafers. He turned around and saw his presentation: just a big white posterboard that said “Surfboarding: It’s Neato Completo.” All the work he had done for months was gone and this was what he showed up to the meeting with? All his passion for surfboarding and this was the best he had? But when he thought about it, he could barely even remember himself surfing. All he could think about was how much he wanted to get home, look at his stamp collection, and maybe read up on some chess maneuvers. What was happening to him?

Needless to say, Eddy’s meeting with his boss was short. They offered him a month of severance and told him to pack up his stuff and leave. They couldn’t have a square like him working at a surfboarding company. He looked at all the beach memorabilia at his desk and just threw it in the trashcan. It didn’t seem like his anymore anyways.

As he walked back home, he could feel everyone staring at him, giggling at his outfit, looking at his big greasy haircut. He felt dejected and embarrassed and could barely see where he was going. He just looked at the ground and shuffled his penny loafers. When he finally looked up, he saw where he was and he wasn’t surprised. Berger and Sons Barbershop.

The bell tinkled as he entered the shop. Mr. Berger looked up and smiled.

“I knew you’d be back. How are you feeling about the haircut?”

Eddy sighed. “I hate it. Well I hated it, but I can’t make it go away and every day I just feel like it suits me more and more. I don’t know what’s happening!”

“That’s the power of a good grease,” said Mr. Berger. “Once you go slick, you just have to stick!”

“Gee whiz,” said Eddy. “I guess so. I just feel so different now.”

“Would you like me to wash it out? You can go back to the way you were. Or…”

“Or?” asked Eddy.

“Or I can apply one more coating and make it permanent. One more coating of pomade and you’ll be a good retro nerdy boy forever. The choice is yours.”

Eddy sighed a breath of relief. The nightmare was finally over. He was ready to make his choice. And then the strong smell overwhelmed him.

“I’d like to stay this way forever!” Inside, Eddy was screaming. That wasn’t what he wanted at all but the grease was making him say it. The grease was making him sit in the chair. The grease was taking his will to fight. The grease made him sit politely and smile as Mr. Berger took a huge scoop of hair product and began working it into Eddy’s jet black hair. When he was finally done, Mr. Berger spun Eddy around and said, “What do you think?”

Eddy looked at himself in the mirror… and couldn’t see anything. It was a blur.

“Oh of course,” said Mr. Berger. “You’ll be needing these now.” He pulled out a pair of clunky black rimmed glasses with thick lenses and placed them on Eddy’s nose before fastening them in place with a tight elastic strap. The world came into focus and Eddy saw himself in the mirror.

The hair was even neater, even more retro, and even greasier looking than before. The thick black glasses just complimented the hair perfectly. When Eddy reached up to touch his hair, it felt nearly plastic. It didn’t budge at all. This truly was the haircut he was stuck with.

“Gee whiz, it looks neato completo Sir!” he said with a goofy grin plastered on his face.

“You don’t have to call me Sir,” Mr. Berger smiled. He handed Eddy his wallet back and opened it to the ID holder. Eddy’s license had been replaced with a new one. The picture showed Eddy in his thick glasses and greased up hair and where his name should be it read “Edward Berger.”

“Berger and Sons Barber,” Mr. Berger smiled. “I just knew you had potential.”

“Golly thanks for the swell haircut, Dad!” Eddy--or was it Edward--said with a grin.

“Say, son, I know you got fired from your job and I was thinking… isn’t it time you joined the family business?”

-----

From that day forward, Edward Berger spent every day in the barbershop learning the craft. His nights were spent in his dorky apartment studying chess maneuvers, listening to lounge music, and watching Leave It To Beaver. He was in bed by 9pm every night and awake by 5am every day. He wore a tie and pocket protector every day to the barber shop and even on most weekends. Whenever he was on the street, people would point and laugh at him but Edward Berger never felt ashamed. He knew it was better to be a clean cut retro goody two shoes than the hip rebel he had used to be. Besides, nobody had a spiffier haircut than he did.

Finally, the day came when Mr. Berger thought Edward was ready to ply his trade on clients of his own.

“I sent out a few invitations for free haircuts to get you some people to try your greasing skills on.”

The bell jingled and three men walked into the shop. Edward pushed up his thick glasses and ran a hand over his thick plasticene haircut. The men seemed almost familiar but he couldn’t remember why. They signed in and Edward picked up the sign in sheet. 

“Well hello and greetings fellas and welcome to Berger and Sons Barbers. So nice to meet you…” He glanced down at the sign in sheet. “Lee, Drew, and Kirk. Now which one of you is up first?”

The three men laughed at this absolute retro nerdy joke before them. Little did they know, they’d be just like him soon enough.

If you liked this story, why not join us in the nerdification discord? Surely someone has a magic hair grease that will turn you into a retro goody two shoes nerd!

[mileycfan4eva33]

Fandom: One Chicago and SVU

Title: Silence Equals Death

Chapter 1: Dear Diary

P O V: Sylvie Brett

A/N: Boy, I am getting sick of these things. But, I'm too paranoid not to write it down. Here are the usual disclaimers, I do not own any of the One Chicago/Or SVU characters that glory goes to Dick Wolf and NBC. Trigger warning for a sexual assault/ rape towards the end. Whose Point of View would you like chapter two to be in; Kelly's, Matt's, Stella's or Kat's, Or Hailey's? This fic will be told through multiple views and be a joint between PD/ Fire and SVU. Reviews are fires to my soul; please leave one. Thank You.

Gaffney Chicago Medical Center

Dear Diary, today is January 31, 2021; it is 12:56 am; I am in Chicago Med. I have to write this all down before it becomes a twisted blur of fragmented memories. Tonight was a nightmare, and a dream all rolled into one. Sitting here now on this cold steel trap of a bed, I am in disbelief that any of this happened, but it did, and it shouldn't have; if I had been smarter, more robust, less drunk, none of this would have happened. I only have myself to blame. It all started so innocently.

Now everything is such a mess; how did this happen? I am not a lovesick teenager, and I shouldn't be making these types of mistakes. If only I could turn back time and not get so damn drunk, but I can't, so here it is, the sick truth of what will surely end my career. The authentic story as only someone who lived it can ever tell it. No Disney fair-tales here, just honest raw truths, every word you will read is what happened to the best of my recollection someday I will gone, and I want my truth out there, so no woman ever has to bear witness to the pain of being raped, and thrown away as if she is the villain.

I am not the villain, but can I say I was a victim?

Sofitel Chicago Magnificent Mile

20 E Chestnut St, Chicago, IL 60611

January 30th 2021 9:35 pm

"My money's on you finding exactly what you want."

Matthew Casey's rugged, sexy voice purrs in my ear. I can't remember when he said that or why the hell he said it; my mind is toasted with the large amount of alcohol I have poured into my body. I can remember what he said after, though, because it's what I deserve. Matt had no idea back then that all I wanted was for him to say he loved me, to tell me I am beautiful. To reassure me that these butterflies I have been feeling forever are not just in my stomach, not only carrying my heart away, but they are in his as well.

He didn't, not then and never since it's been at least two years since he said those words to me. Two years since I felt a brief flutter inside my heart telling me that my feelings for Matt had changed from friendship to something a little less platonic. "God, there ain't enough alcohol inside this damn hotel to take my memory away from this pain."

"I hear ya' sis." Stella Kidd motions for the bartender to bring us two more rounds as she settles against the counter inches away from me, her elbows propping her up. "You look flushed, Brett. Are you feeling okay?" Stella's gorgeous brown eyes are wide in concern as she glances at my body my cheeks are burning, I can feel the heat descending from my head to my face making me sway in dizziness a little as I try to remember how to breathe. Funny how a normal body function can sometimes take so much damn effort it hurts. I need a minute to do nothing, not to feel, think, talk, react or breathe, but of course, I can't have that minute, not with Stella on the case. "Yeah, girl, why wouldn't I be okay?" I fake a laugh, which I don't think fools her even for a second.

"Uh, I am so over these damn things Sylvie, I thought with COVID we would escape this bullshit this year." Stella slides down my shot glass to me as she tilts her head back and chugs her shot of whiskey with one gulp. "Yeah, I would have thought so too; nothing I hate more than a bunch of grown-ass corporate men in suits pretending to give two craps about us little people."

"Amen, sister." Stella clicks her empty glass against mine before I tilt my head back and swallow the rush of warmth that leaves me dizzier; maybe I shouldn't have skipped two meals today before coming here after having no food yesterday. "So what's up with you and Kelly?" I turn my head to my right to catch Stella's eyes, glued to her boyfriend Kelly Severide, chatting with District Chief Steve Walker. Fire Commissioner Carl Grissom and the Deputy Director of Finance Gail McLeod. "Kelly's looking dapper Stella; I think someone is going to get lucky tonight." I hold my hand up to signal the bartender for another round; he fills our glasses quickly, much to my pleasure. "Yeah, from your lips to Kelly's ears, please, he's barely touched me ever since he found out that some people may take offense to me being promoted because we're together."

"Aw, man, I'm sorry he's probably just worried Stella, he loves you Kelly doesn't want to be the reason you fail because we all know you deserve this promotion. At least he cares enough to say the words out loud." I swallow the shot feeling my eyes burn badly as tears filter out. "Aw man, this shit is strong. Phew!" shaking my body out, I signal for another, hearing Stella laugh. "Still regretting telling Matt how you feel?"

I pause for a moment before I answer; how should I respond? Do I regret telling Matt how I feel? "Hey bitches." I'm saved from answering as Leslie Shay comes stumbling over, wrapping her arm over my shoulder and squeezing between us, holding her phone up with her left hand. "Smile bitches." Stella and I hold our full shot glasses up. I love this bartender; he is on his game tonight; we smile and lean into Shay, who is reeking of Tequila. "Give me some love, sugar babes." Yeah, she is drunk, sugar babes? Where did she even come up with that one? We smile brighter even though neither one of us feel happy at this moment; her eyes are on Kelly, who isn't even looking our way, and I lock my eyes on Matt, who is dancing with some woman I have never seen in my life.

The woman is drop-dead gorgeous though five-foot-nine inches is my guess she appears to be Lebanese or Latino with long caramel hair flowing down her back past her waist the silk wrap dress she is wearing clings to every unique curve on her flawless body. Matt's arms are wrapped around her waist he's dancing close with her, my heart races so fast I feel the room sway. "Love is a journey, Sylvie, don't give up yet. I know this moment sucks. I get it hurts worse than anything you've ever experienced. When it gets too heavy, when it feels like the weight of this pain is crushing you, remember the pleasant moments, the breathless enthusiastic moments. Matt's alive, and so are you as long as you live, there is hope."

I wish I could smile at Shay as a thank you, but I can't muster the strength even to attempt a smile. Seeing Matt dancing with this woman is killing me slowly; who is she? Where did they meet? Why did he choose tonight to bring her on a date? Knowing I would be at this stupid First Responders training shit, is he trying to make me jealous?

"Your Casey is out there, Sylvie, but you don't have to change who you are to find him." Gabby's words from five years ago come back to me; she did not know just how right she was when she said them to me; hell, I didn't even know back then that the man who I would want to be by my side forever, the man who I would spend countless sleepless nights crying my heart out over was her Casey. Talk to God, Sylvie, get your head straight; this is crazy pinning over a man you pushed away yourself.

Sometimes I feel so cold the way steel must feel left outside to fend for itself against the weather elements. Some days I feel broken, I forget what living is for, I forget how to breathe or even why I should keep living. Today is one of those nights; seeing Matt with this woman is breaking me; I can feel every string of my heart aching, pulling, and twisting as it stretches my entire inside into a giant trampoline my stomach turns and painfully contracts reminding me.

I am alive

Every ache and every pain reminds me I am breathing, but why I can't seem to grasp it. I'm not suicidal, but I'm finding it hard to find a reason to keep my head up when my brain is screaming at me to run away, to bury myself in Tequila and cuddle under the covers till all of the daylight fades away into a blur of a drunken haze.

"Another shot, bartender."

"Name is Josh." I turn away, not caring, seeing only Matt as he lifts his finger to wipe out a stray hair off the woman's face. I can barely breathe every effort is a raspy painful burn that leaves me gasping, trying to fight off this fresh wave of tears. "Close your eyes, Sylvie, and fucking hold it together for a few more minutes; for God's sake, don't let the man see you cry."

Shay slips her arm around my back under my armpits, quickly leading me out of the ballroom where the music is playing louder than what you would expect at a training seminar. "Remember what I said to picture the pleasant moments." "I can't, Shay..I... can't breathe." "Shh, hey, it's okay. I got you." Shay gently settles me onto a couch inside the ladies' room, handing me a cold bottle of water, which she's already taken a few sips out. Still, she lifts to my lips before I can stop her; the cool liquid splashes over my chin, dripping down what gets inside my mouth is refreshing and helps cool me off, allowing me to breathe easier. Leaning back against the wall, I close my eyes, trying to regain some gravity; my knees are trembling, leaving me feeling as if I will collapse if I try to stand.

I want to kick myself for falling so hard for a damn guy who I knew would never love me back. I knew I shouldn't have pushed Matt, yet I ignored every one of my instincts and went full sped ahead. God, I will remember that day forever- I had been avoiding Matt for days ever since the accident. Mainly because I had my suspicions that Matt hadn't just been lucky in getting to me so quickly, part of me hoped and yes, as vain as it sounds prayed that Matt had raced to me, that the thought of me being in peril had somehow overcome Matt's heart running his blood in fear.

I told myself I was crazy even to think such stupid school girl thoughts. Matt is our captain; it made perfect sense he would be worried about Gianna and me; we're part of his team, nothing more. The job of the captain is to make sure all of his team comes home safe at the end of every shift; Matt's lost too many people in his days, he fears losing anyone, so of course, the entire team raced to us when they heard 61 was in an accident.

I had myself convinced Matt came to me out of loyalty out of duty, not because he was in love with me, I am stupid for even thinking for one mil-la-second that Matthew Casey would ever love me as anything except a friend. I was doing so damn well, too, until Blake Gallo blew up all my rationalization with his account of how Matt jumped out of a moving truck to get to me. Me, not myself and Gianna but only me. Brett, I have to get to Brett, that's what Gallo recalled Matt saying.

Shattered

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