#these were sitting in my files forever so i finally cleaned em up

[rendoesthedoodle]

Three Grumpus designs for sale! All are $15! Paypal only!

90's - SOLD

Coolest Ever - Open

Soft n' Green - Open

DM me to claim!

[aylacavebear]

She Thought She was Normal

Story Summary: Maria really thought she was normal, for most of her life. It was normal for people to have natural talent, she would tell herself the older she got. Many things came easy for her, and that was probably how their rivalry began when she was five and he was seven and she met the Winchesters. Little did either of them know that it wouldn't stay like that forever, both having a far larger destiny than they could imagine

Word Count: 3902

Please don't take my work. I'll post warnings for each chapter. Will eventually be 18+!

Warnings: Mention of Sex, some angst, And the slow burn begins.

----------------------------------------- Chapter 14

Bobby had packed up quicker than what the original plan was and showed up at the bunker two days later. Maria and Jess helped him bring everything in. God her uncle had a lot of books and none of the boxes were light.

He picked a room not too far down the hall from Maria’s and that was where a third of his boxes were taken. That would at least allow him to go through them and figure out what he wanted to do with them all. The other two-thirds of his boxes were stacked neatly in the library.

“Boys not back yet?” Bobby asked once all his stuff was inside.

“They should be here tomorrow,” Jess told him when Maria joined them in the library.

“Have you heard from John yet?” he asked Maria.

She sighed and shook her head, “No, and neither have the boys, at least not as of their call yesterday.”

He sighed and looked around the library, “I left him a message too. That man is stubborn as hell.”

“Well, no one gave him any real details so he couldn’t just run off on his own,” Maria told him.

“He’ll show up, eventually,” Bobby replied with a chuckle.

“Oh, we’re all getting tattoos and no one is arguing with me on this one,” Maria told the two of them.

“Excuse me?” Bobby retorted, not liking being told he was getting a tattoo, even from his niece.

“I came across it in one of the books on demons,” she began as she moved the books around on the table, looking for one in specific, “It’s an anti-possession sigil, and we all need one.”

It took her a moment to not only find the book but also the page the information was on, then showed it to her uncle as Jess looked over his shoulder, “So yeah, tattoos,” Maria said proudly, not giving them a chance to argue.

Bobby groaned as he read the information. The girl was good at finding things, although he wasn’t keen on the idea of a tattoo. Jess thought that the tattoo idea could be fun, and it was a nice image. It could have looked a lot worse and she knew it, as she’d read a lot in the last couple of days.

“You told the boys yet?” Bobby asked after handing the book back to her.

“Nope,” she replied, popping the ‘p’, “Figured I’d surprise ‘em.” she finished with a smirk.

That had at least made Bobby smile as he imagined their faces, “Have you found a way to deal with Azazel?” he finally asked them.

Maria frowned, as did Jess, “No, not yet, but now that you’re here, another set of eyes to help is always a good thing,” she ended with a small smile, not wanting to sound hopeful.

The three of them read through books and files before Maria got up around four to go make dinner, needing to give her eyes a rest but too ansty to sit down anywhere. Her mind was also too full to focus on anything else. She was still trying to figure out how to approach Dean when he got back, as she never forgot the bet between her and Jess. 

She made a simple dinner, burgers, and fries, and even cleaned up afterward. She felt burnt out on research and needed a change of scenery but hadn’t felt the desire to go anywhere either. So, after dinner, she just bid them good night and went to her room. Maria plopped down on her bed and stared at the ceiling. It wasn’t long before a light blue and white glow from her top dresser drawer caught her attention.

“I don’t want more dreams,” she groaned as she covered her eyes with her arm.

The light from the book pulsed and she groaned again, like a child putting off a chore before she finally got up and opened the drawer, “Fine. I guess I can’t put it off much longer,” she sighed as she pulled the book out of its box.

The glow went away when she touched it. With everything that had been going on, she hadn’t wanted to add more to her plate but apparently, the book had other ideas. So now she was leaning against her headboard, rereading the chapter on Zamariel, for the fourth time. She had read it three times when she’d first discovered the book back at her Uncle’s, fourteen years ago. That thought made her pause and look up. Had it really been that long already, she thought to herself and shook her head a bit.

She still wasn’t aware the book was written in Enochian. It just looked like normal words to her. Maria read long into the night, far more information than she could absorb in one sitting or one read-through. Around midnight she finally put the book down on her night table before rubbing her eyes.

“Damn,” she sighed as she looked at her clock, twelve thirteen, “Guess time flies when you’re into something.”

When she clicked off her lamp and curled up in bed, she prayed that the dreams wouldn’t come, even though she knew they would. She already felt so overwhelmed with everything else that was going on, she thought that perhaps this would push her back toward whiskey if it was too much, feeling as though she was at a breaking point with her waking world. She even fought sleep for almost another hour before it overtook her.

She was at that lakeshore again with the forest around it and the snow-tipped mountains in the distance. There was a slight amount of cloud cover but it only added to the beauty.  “Are you ready?” a female voice from behind her asked. Maria turned around, more curious than anything. No one had spoken directly to her in her dreams before, “Ready for what?” she asked, taking in the woman’s appearance. Long, dark brown hair, brown eyes, and an average physique, and she was a few inches shorter than Maria, dressed in similar clothes. “Ready to take the next step in unlocking your potential,” the woman told her, in a fairly level tone. She wasn’t quite sure what to think of this and had more questions now, “What if I said I wasn’t?” Maria asked, carefully. “Then things will continue as they have been and you won’t remember this dream,” the woman explained plainly. Maria turned away from the woman and sat down on one of the large rocks near the lakeshore, thinking, “What if I said I was ready but wanted to go slowly?” she asked. The woman moved over, closer to her, “Then it would go slowly, at your own pace. The learning would take place at night, in your dreams instead of in your waking world. So it really is up to you,” the woman said calmly. “Why do I feel like somehow the weight of the world rests on my shoulders?” Maria practically mumbled. “I’m surprised you don’t have more questions,” the woman said. “I have a ton of questions. I just don’t know if I want the answers,” she replied, sighing. Maria felt like she sat on that rock and thought about everything for hours but the time of day never changed, “Can you give me a week, to really think about this?” she finally asked. “Yes. Just read the book again when you are ready and I’ll be here,” the woman told her.

She woke up sighing, lying on her back, “I’m not sure I’m ready for this,” she whispered into the darkness of her room before she glanced at the clock, “Six thirty,” she chuckled without humor.

Maria climbed out of bed and got dressed. She wasn’t feeling in the mood to deal with anyone but she wanted coffee, so headed out to the war room, glancing in the library before making her way into the kitchen. Bobby and Jess were sitting at the kitchen table.

“Mornin’ kiddo,” Bobby told her, sipping his coffee.

“Morning guys,” she replied, sounding distant.

“You sleep okay?” he asked, a little concerned.

“I guess it could have been worse,” she chuckled without humor.

“Wanna talk about it?” Jess asked her.

“Not really. Not right now at least,” she replied, giving them both a soft smile before she sat down with them, “I’ve just got a lot on my mind.”

“Journalling might help,” Jess suggested.

Maria thought about that while she sipped her coffee. When it came to certain cases it did help to sometimes write out the patterns to make it easier to figure out, “Thanks Jess. I might just give that a shot,” she finally told her, smiling a little.

Jess felt good that she was able to suggest something that might be able to help her. The three had idle chit-chat for another hour before Maria headed to her room, wondering if she had anything that might resemble a pad of paper she could use as a journal. She wasn’t ready to talk to her Uncle about it either, even if her father had said he knew. Bobby and Jess had gone back to research, mostly waiting for the boys to show up with Sam and Jess’s stuff.

She found a pad of paper in the desk drawer, thinking she must have put it there the night when she had unpacked her things. Once she grabbed it and a pen, she sat down on her bed, leaning against the headboard. Her knees were up and the pad was leaning against her legs, but every time she went to write something, it was like her mind went completely blank and it was annoying the hell out of her. 

Hours passed and she still hadn’t written anything. It was like all her thoughts kept jumbling around in her mind, or at least that was what she was telling herself. She hadn’t even heard the guys come in, nor the sounds of them moving things down the hall to the room Jess and Sam had picked. It wasn’t until Dean opened her door and stuck his head in that she found out.

“You gonna help or just sit in here and let us do all the work,” he asked her, in a teasing way, with that damned smirk again.

“What happened to knocking?” she told him through her annoyance as she glared at him.

“Uh, forgot,” he said quickly, just smiling.

“Sure ya did,” she mumbled before she got up to help, pushing him out of the way.

“Rude,” he told her, rubbing his chest a little where she had pushed against him with her hand, using most of her body weight.

“At least I didn’t hit you,” she told him without looking over her shoulder as she walked toward the garage.

Apparently, they’d gotten a small U-Haul for the things they had wanted to keep since the space in the Impala was limited. Sam and Jess had talked a lot about what they wanted to keep and what wasn’t important to either of them. Now, everything they owned lay inside that U-Haul. Maria hugged Sam when she saw him, which instantly annoyed Dean, as she had shoved him. Then she helped them unload everything, taking most of it to their room. The two of them even had a mostly private bathroom with as far back a room as they had picked. This way Jess would have somewhere to keep her makeup and all that girly stuff Maria wasn’t interested in, nor would she have to even look at it.

They all ate after the U-Haul was unpacked. As they were sitting around the table, Maria spoke up, “So, everyone is getting a tattoo as soon as John gets here,” she said nonchalantly, but seriously.

Dean almost choked on his beer, which made Maria chuckle a little, even if she didn’t look over at him, “Excuse me?” he asked in utter disbelief.

“It’s an anti-possession tattoo, and everyone, including Uncle Bobby and John, are getting one,” she said confidently.

“Don’t try to argue with her boy, she showed me what it does. She knows her shit and this will keep all of us safe,” Bobby pipped in, backing her up.

“I already decided where I’m getting mine,” Jess said, giving Sam a very flirtatious look.

“Oh yeah?” Sam asked her, raising an eyebrow and smirking, “Where’s that?”

Jess leaned over and whispered something in Sam’s ear, which made him blush, deeply. Maria chuckled as she looked back down at her plate and Dean smirked, but he was looking at Maria, again putting on that cool guy front. There was a little more laughter before Bobby headed out and back to the library. They were still trying to figure out how to kill Azazel after all. 

“Come on, I’ll show you the sigil,” Jess told Sam as she got up and took his hand, attempting to get him to follow her. She also gave Maria a knowing look, which only made her roll her eyes.

Sam got up, smiling from ear to ear as he let her lead him into the library. Maria sighed and started cleaning up. She still hadn’t figured out how to ask Dean if he was interested in her without being blunt about it. Dean leaned back in his chair and just watched her move around the kitchen for a while.

“So, are you interested in me or something?” she finally just asked him as she washed the dishes.

Dean’s face went from smiling to shock before back to that cool guy facade again, “You’re hot, why wouldn’t I be,” he said cockily, with a smirk.

She wasn’t sure why but his words didn’t make her feel better, and in fact, only saddened her, “Let’s get one thing straight. I’m not interested,” she told him, almost coldly.

He was glad she wasn’t looking at him as his jaw clenched before he left the kitchen, both hurt and feeling rejected. He had been trying to compliment her, not realizing that was probably the worst way to tell her he liked her. Dean didn’t say anything to the three in the library, grabbing a bottle of whiskey and finding a room much further away than hers to go drink alone.

Maria leaned on the counter in the kitchen once he left, feeling hurt that all he seemed to want or be interested in was her looks. She felt a hand on her shoulder and spun around quickly, only to find Jess standing there.

Jess saw the hurt in her eyes, “What happened?” she asked.

“Looks like you’ve got chores for the next week,” Maria said quietly, not even able to manage a smile.

“Wait? What happened?” she asked again, not fully understanding.

“I asked him and he’s interested all right, in my looks, not me. So, guess we were both right. I’ll split the chores with you or we can just call off the bet,” Maria told her, feeling a pull toward drinking again.

Jess felt bad for even having brought it up now. She had been sure she’d caught Dean daydreaming about her, at least that had been the look on his face. It didn’t seem to be that of a guy only interested in sex. She’d been around enough college guys to tell the difference. Jess grabbed a beer for her out of the fridge and popped the top before she handed it to her.

“We can call it off, the bet. I’m really sorry I was wrong,” Jess told her softly before heading back into the library, not giving her a chance to reply.

For a moment Maria just stared at the beer Jess had handed to her before she set it on the counter, knowing there was no real relief at the bottom of that bottle. She sighed before she went back to the dishes, deciding to deal with her emotions later, when she was alone. Maria wasn’t in a hurry as she took care of the dishes and then cleaned up the rest of the kitchen. No one came to bother her though. She even dumped the beer down the drain before she threw away the empty bottle. She headed straight to her room though, not wanting to be around anyone.

Since she’d gone through her detox and her grief at Sam and Jess’s at the beginning of the year, she felt things again. These were things that had started when she was fourteen and Dean had told her that she was acting like Sam, things she’d buried back with her grief. Now though, those emotions were coursing through her again and she wasn’t entirely sure what they were or how to fully deal with them.

“Somebody want to tell me what the hell just happened?” Bobby asked Sam and Jess, keeping his voice quiet, but needing information.

Jess sighed as she looked over at him, “I was so sure that Dean actually liked her that we made a bet. Well, I was wrong. He just likes her for her looks,” she replied, still feeling bad.

“What was said, exactly?” Sam asked, curious more than anything, as he had thought the same thing.

“She said that Dean said he was interested in her looks,” Jess answered, looking up at him.

Sam furrowed his brow, as that hadn’t helped at all, “Maybe I should go talk to him.”

Bobby was wondering what exactly had been said as well. He remembered the looks that not only he saw, but that John and William had seen when Dean was sixteen. He also knew that sometimes those kinds of crushes died over time so decided that he’d keep his eye on Dean, feeling protective of his niece.

Dean had been sitting in that room for at least a half hour at this point, drinking and thinking, two bad combinations for him when he felt the way he did. He still couldn’t figure out what he’d done or said wrong. In the past, he always had lots of luck with the ladies. He was smooth, charming, and could make women melt with that smirk of his. But Maria was a completely different sort of girl. He had known this but all women liked compliments, didn’t they? Something Dean wasn’t so good at was words outside of compliments on physical beauty. He had no idea how to tell Maria that he thought she was funny, confident, an amazing hunter, sweet, could cook like a chef, and had had his heart since he was sixteen when he’d seen her that Thanksgiving morning when she pulled the pies out of the oven.

“Dude, you awake?” he heard from the other side of the door.

How Sam had figured out which room he was in puzzled him, “Yeah, go away,” Dean told him.

“Dean…” Sam said, a concern in his tone.

“I said go away,” Dean repeated, a bit more sternly, not wanting to deal with his brother, again. He’d had enough of it on the drive to Cali and back and didn’t want to hear another word.

Sam stood out there for a moment, debating pushing the topic before he finally opened the door and went inside, “What happened?” he asked, closing the door behind him.

“Well, I was right and you were wrong, let’s leave it at that,” Dean said, not looking up at his brother before he took another drink of the whiskey.

“What’d you say to her?” Sam asked, concerned, but still gentle.

“I told her that I was interested 'cause she was hot,” Dean found himself just blurting out.

Sam closed his eyes and turned his head toward the ceiling, letting out a small breath, it all made sense, “You really are clueless, aren’t you,” he chuckled.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Dean asked, almost glaring at his brother.

Sam was doing his best not to laugh at his brother when he looked back over at him, “She’s not some waitress at a bar or some chick you’re picking up for a one-night stand. When was the last time you ever saw her give two shits about her looks? She’s a hunter Dean.”

Dean just rolled his eyes and Sam shook his head before he left his brother to his thoughts and whiskey. When Sam sat down in the chair next to Jess, she and Bobby looked over at him, curious, “What happened?” she asked.

“Let’s just say, Dean’s an idiot.” Sam chuckled.

“Well, I could have told you that,” Bobby almost scoffed.

“He likes her, he just has no clue how to tell her. Those two are gonna have to figure it out on their own,” Sam explained, “They’re both stubborn.”

Bobby knew that firsthand, Maria was his niece after all, and Dean was like a son to him. Jess also understood how that worked. They couldn’t push the two of them toward each other or get either of them to listen to reason.

Maria sat on her bed, leaning against the headboard, her arms resting on her knees as she stared at the ceiling. Jerk, she thought to herself. Being alone in her room wasn’t helping so she got up and headed down to the gym, needing to hit something and get out the anger that had surfaced. She passed Sam in the hallway. He looked as though he was headed to either his room or Dean’s, whichever one that was for the night, but she didn’t ask. Bobby and Jess watched her walk by, through the war room, before she disappeared down the other hallway.

She found the punching bag first, not even taping up her hands, wanting to feel every blow, picturing Dean’s smug, smirking face. At first, there was no pain as she got used to the feel of the bag. Then, she put more force into it, as if she was aiming for the wall on the other side of the room. Before she knew it, she was breathing heavily, her muscles tense and burning, and her knuckles were bruised before she sank to the floor. That was when the tears came. There weren’t many but she let them fall, still refusing to admit that she even liked Dean, or wanted to. When the tears stopped, she stood up and decided she wouldn’t hate him, but she wasn’t about to like him either. She’d go back to him being her rival, like when they were younger. 

Her body was sore as she made her way back through the bunker to her room, gathering a change of clothes before heading to the shower. The hot water would feel good on her muscles and help wash away the rest of what she was feeling, relaxing her. She locked the bathroom door and just stood under the hot flow of water for a while, letting it all go. Afterward, she did feel better and was even smiling a bit as she made her way back to the library. She sat down in the seat she’d sat in earlier that day. Bobby raised an eyebrow, watching her.

“You good?” Sam asked her.

“Yup. I’m good,” she replied, lightheartedly as she opened the book she’d been reading.

The three were a little confused but dropped the subject. Dean still hadn’t come out of the room he was in, even after he finished his bottle of whiskey.

----------------------------------------- Chapter 15

Tag List: @deans-spinster-witch @kazsrm67

Link to the master list for this story.

[drabbles-mc]

Whatever It Takes

Juice Ortiz x Reader

Shoutout to @bishopslosawife​ for this idea! I am...passionate about Juan Carlos Ortiz:  What if a up-and-coming MC from another state stops in town for a night to discuss business but when they don't get want they want they take something/someone important to a SONs member as a leverage against the guys? I could see Juice going all overprotective of his s/o. 😍

Warnings: blood, language, murder, kidnapping, angst

Word Count: 3.5k

A/N: Honestly I would kill a man for Juice and I believe that he would do the same for me haha. Enjoy! xo

Taglist?? I realize that I don’t write a whole lot for SOA and when I do it’s always been Juice lol. That being said! If you’re interested in getting tagged in any future SOA or Juice fics please let me know!

The doors to the chapel flew open and a stream of very angry-looking men came storming out. You sat back at the bar, trying to make yourself as small as possible as most of them left the clubhouse. Once the Sons started filing out, you could see that none of them were looking overly excited about whatever had gone down during church either. Clay, Jax, and Tig were still in the chapel and you caught brief glimpses of their faces as they shut the doors once again, making it so it was just the three of them.

“Hey,” Juice appeared in front of you, leaning down to place a kiss on your forehead, “it’s late, what are you still doing here?”

You smiled and shrugged, “Waiting for you. Didn’t think it was going to take so long.”

“Yea, it was a fuckin’ shitshow in there.”

“I figured. Those guys didn’t look happy.”

He chuckled, but you could see the exhaustion on his face, “They weren’t.”

You cupped his face, thumb tracing along his cheekbone for a moment, “Ready to go home?”

He nodded, leaning into your touch, “Absolutely.”

You hopped down off the barstool and pulled him with you towards the door of the clubhouse. He trailed behind you, and you let out a small yelp followed by a laugh when you felt him playfully smack your ass as you walked through the doors.

“Juan Carlos,” you feigned offence as you turned around, placing your hands on his chest, “there’s a time and a place for that.”

He laughed, wrapping his arms around your waist, “What’s wrong with here and now?”

You smiled, shaking your head as you leaned in and kissed him. His arms wrapped tighter around you, keeping you pressed flush up against him. Your hands slid up from his chest, fingers trailing lightly and quickly over his mohawk until they came to rest on the back of his neck. You could’ve stood there like that with him forever if it was possible.

He pulled his lips away from yours to catch his breath, but you could see a playful smile starting to spread across his face as he rested his forehead against yours, “I love you.”

You smiled, humming in approval, “I love you too. We gonna make it home tonight or are we crashing in your dorm?”

He laughed, nudging you towards his bike, “We’ll make it home, c’mon we can even take the bike. I’ll bring you back for your car in the morning.”

As the two of you made your way over, you heard someone call out for Juice from the opposite side of the parking lot. You both turned around, and you felt Juice’s body tense up a little bit as he stood directly in front of you, completely blocking you from whoever was talking to him.

“This ain’t over, you know,” the young man walked up to Juice, blowing out a billow of smoke as he spoke, “Better let your Pres know that.”

“Pretty sure you’re the one who should be letting him know,” Juice’s tone was even, but he kept one hand behind him, rested on your hip, “He’s still in church. Go talk to someone who actually has some sway.”

The man laughed, dropping what little was left of his cigarette on the ground between his feet and Juice’s, “Don’t say we didn’t warn you,” he looked over Juice’s shoulder and shot you a smile that was too much to be sincere, “You two have a good night.”

After the man walked off, getting onto his own bike and leaving the compound, you and Juice both let out sighs of relief. His body was still rigid as he turned back to face you, trying to search your expression to see if you were alright. You knew that things got dicey with the club—you’d had to clean Juice up on more than one occasion because of it, but it was different when you were experiencing the tension first-hand.

“You alright?” he gently cupped your face in both of his hands.

You nodded, “Yea. That was just…weird.”

“I know,” he sighed, “I’m sorry, baby, I just feel like I should probably go talk to Clay and them. You okay to drive home and I’ll meet you there in a little bit?”

“Yea, of course,” you kissed him softly on the lips, “I’ll text you when I get home. I love you.”

He smiled, “I love you too.”

He waited until you were off the lot before heading inside to talk to Jax and Clay about the brief little interaction he’d had out in the parking lot. More likely than not it was all talk, but there was never a guarantee of that.

You pulled into the gas station, mentally kicking yourself for putting off getting gas for so long. You wanted to be home but you wouldn’t have made it with what little was left in the tank. You went inside and prepaid, coming back out to the pump. You looked around as you filled your car, and everything seemed quiet.

You turned to put the nozzle back on the pump when you felt an arm wrap around your neck, a gloved hand coming to rest tightly over your mouth. Your entire body froze, and you wouldn’t have been able to try to fight or run if someone tried to pay you. The person pushed you up against your car, speaking to you in a low, harsh whisper.

“When I take my hand away, you’re not gonna scream. You’re going to get into this car and you’re going to do exactly what I tell you to, got it?”

You nodded, eyes wide with fear. When he took his hand away, though, something came over you and you let out a blood-chilling scream. The last thing you remembered was the man cursing and your head being slammed hard against the side of your car. Everything went black after that.

Juice was heading back out to his bike after talking with Jax and Clay. He hadn’t gotten any messages from you, which was a little worrying but it wouldn’t have been the first time you forgot. He dialed your number and called, figuring that if you were home and just forgot you’d pick up and the first words out of your mouth would be, “I forgot again, I’m sorry! I love you,” the way that they always were.

But there was no answer

He tried two more times and it was more of the same. Even if you had fallen asleep right away when you got home, the second or third call would’ve woken you up. He turned to head back inside when he saw Jax walking out of the clubhouse. He flagged him down.

“What’s up, brother?” Jax could see the worry on Juice’s face.

“It’s Y/N. I haven’t heard from her since she left. Tried calling and she didn’t pick up. You mind just riding with me out to her place to make sure she’s all good? It’s probably nothing but it’s not sitting right with me.”

He nodded as he clipped his helmet on, “Yea, sure thing.”

The two of them rode out to your house, and came to an empty driveway and no lights on inside. The knot in Juice’s stomach was growing as he parked his bike and hopped off of it. He yanked off his helmet, running his hand over his head as he turned back to Jax with worry all over his face.

“This isn’t right, Jax. She was coming straight home. Something must’ve happened to her.”

“Alright. Let’s think for a second here before we get too crazy.”

“What if it was that guy?” he saw the confusion on Jax’s face and elaborated, “Adam, or Aaron, or whatever the fuck his name was. The one who came up to us in the parking lot.”

He shook his head, “No way. Those guys are too green to be doing shit like that.”

“You sure about that? Gave you and Clay a run for your money during church tonight.”

The comment stung Jax’s ego a bit, but he had to admit that Juice raised a somewhat valid point. He sighed, “Alright. Call the guys, get ‘em all back to church. Let’s find this asshole and get your girl back.”

Juice immediately started calling everyone. Luckily it hadn’t been very long and everyone was more than willing to turn back around and head back to the clubhouse. Juice looked at your house as he dialed number after number, the darkness in the windows sending shots of fear up and down his spine.

Once everyone was back at the chapel, they started strategizing. They were trying to figure out where the most logical places would be for the men to have taken you, what they were going to ask for to secure your safe return. Throughout the whole thing, Juice’s eyes were glued to his phone, hoping to see your name light up the small screen of his phone.

“We can’t cave to all of their demands, though,” Clay said with a strong sense of finality.

Juice turned to look at the man sitting at the head of the table, “We’ll do whatever we fucking have to, to get her home.”

It wasn’t like him to speak that way to anyone, let alone Clay. The man shook his head, “Juice, I know that this is hitting you close to home but—”

“But nothing!” he stood up, “Not getting her back isn’t an option, Clay,” tears stung at his eyes but his anger was still apparent.

Before the argument could continue any farther, Juice’s phone buzzed on the surface of the table. His eyes went wide as he picked it up, seeing your name on the screen. He held his breath as he brought it up to his ear, “Hello?”

“Go glad you picked up, Juan Carlos,” the man chuckled.

“What the fuck did you do to—”

“She’s fine…for now. But I’m going to need you and the president of your club to agree to some things if you want to make sure she stays that way.”

“Prove it,” he snapped.

“Prove what?”

“Prove that she’s alright. How do I know that you didn’t already do something to her?”

The man chuckled but he complied. Juice heard your pained tone coming through from the other end of the line, “Juan?! Juan what the fuck is going on?”

He felt a sob locked in his throat, “Y/N, baby, we’re coming to get you, alright? You’re gonna be fine I promise.”

Neither of you got the chance to say anything more before you heard the man’s voice on the other end of the line again. “There’s your proof. Your president knows what needs to happen if you’re going to see her again. You have two hours to meet our terms or you’re never going to see your girlfriend ever again.”

“I swear to god if you fucking hurt her—” he didn’t get to finish the sentence before the man hung up on him. He shook his head, slamming his fist against the table, “Fuck!”

He stormed out of the chapel and came flying back in a minute later, laptop tucked under his arm. He sat down heavily in his chair before opening the computer and pulling up numerous windows. The guys looked on in silence, knowing that they had nothing to offer him at this point.

Jax looked over his shoulder, “What’re you doing?”

“Getting a trace on her phone’s GPS.”

“She doesn’t use the burners?”

Juice shook his head, like it was the most obvious answer in the world, “No, she doesn’t have to because she’s not a fucking criminal,” he sighed as his fingers flew across the keyboard, “I’m willing to bet that these guys were too stupid to think about that, though.”

The couple of minutes of silence while the computer programs tracked her phone seemed to stretch on for an eternity. They all looked back and forth among themselves, hoping they were going to get the answers that they wanted. After what felt like hours, they were rewarded with a quick beeping sound.

Juice immediately started rattling off the address to the entire room. He was already walking towards the chapel doors as the rest of them tried to piece together where exactly they were going.

“Abandoned warehouses out off the main drag behind the old logging place,” Juice said as he continued to leave.

They nodded, impressed that he knew it off the top of his head like that. His brain was working overtime, though. Anything to keep you safe. The guys followed him, grabbing their guns as they went. They had no idea what they were walking into but they were going to be prepared.

Juice didn’t bother waiting for the rest of the club. He was fully prepared to go into this entire situation alone despite the fact that he knew he wouldn’t have to. He sped out of the lot, forcing the rest of them to play catchup. His mind was reeling and all he knew was that he couldn’t lose you. you were the one thing that he got right and he wasn’t going to let anything happen to you. No matter what it took, you were getting home safely.

He rolled into the lot, followed shortly by the rest of the MC. They all got off their bikes, getting their weapons ready. There were a few buildings to choose from, and Juice was looking to see if any of them had any signs of life in them.

“Middle one, top window,” Opie broke the silence, nodding towards the building he was talking about.

Juice looked, and he was a mixture of relieved and anxious when he saw that Opie was right. At least it meant that you were there. He just hoped that they weren’t too late.

“Hey,” Jax’s voice was quiet, but firm, “you shouldn’t be the first one in on this.”

“Fuck that,” he shook his head, refusing to be benched for this.

“You’re angry. Angry makes you stupid and stupid gets you killed. You can’t be lead on this.”

Juice stood toe-to-toe with the VP, “You can’t fucking stop me.”

He wasn’t yelling, but he didn’t need to raise his voice. His tone and the look in his eyes communicated everything. Jax sighed, nodding in defeat. If the roles were reversed, he knew he would be doing the same thing. Juice pushed past him and went towards the building, a few of the guys trailing close behind while a few more waited back in case anyone tried to leave.

They were silent as they entered the building, straining their ears to pick up on any noise. There was a mild clamoring coming from up the stairs. Juice turned to see Jax and Opie behind him, nodding for him to continue onward, that they had his back. With as little noise as possible they made their way up the stairs.

The door at the top was slightly ajar, light streaming through the crack. They could hear the laughter of the men who had you, but they couldn’t hear you. Juice’s heart was pounding inside his chest. He glanced back, using his fingers to count down before kicking the door completely open and storming in with Jax and Opie right on his heels.

The sight of you bound to a chair and gagged was enough to make Juice see red for a few moments. Tears were streaming down your face and he could see the fear in your eyes, the cut on your forehead caked in dried blood.

They all had guns pointed at each other, but your kidnappers were outnumbered two to three. And judging by the look in Juice’s eyes, he had enough rage in him for a few people.

Still, your captors forged onward like they were going to win this, “We told you this wasn’t over.”

Juice scoffed, cocking his gun, “You don’t let her go, the bullshit you have going on with Clay is going to be the least of your fucking problems. Believe me.” He could see you shaking your head, trying to urge him to stop and not make the situation worse, but he was too angry, “Let her go. She has nothing to do with this shit."

The man pressed his gun against your temple and you cried against the gag in your mouth, shutting your eyes tight. He laughed, “I’d lower that gun now if I were you.”

He shook his head, “You think you’re going to best the three of us?”

“You willing to bet her life on the fact that we won’t?”

The seconds of silence that followed felt never-ending. You still had your eyes shut tight, unable to force yourself to open them and take in the scene in front of you. If it ended badly, you didn’t want the last thing you saw to be something horrid.

The man pushed the gun harder against your temple and you winced as he spoke, “What’s it gonna be, then?”

There was another brief moment of silence but it was short-lived as the sound of gunshots filled the room. You cried, trying to make yourself as small as possible in the chair that you were in. You still couldn’t force yourself to open your eyes, knowing that the warm substance that just splattered across your face was blood and you didn’t want to know who it belonged to.

You felt someone pull at the gag in your mouth, and quickly cutting through the binds around your arms and legs. There was a hand softly put to your cheek, and the only thing that got you to open your eyes was the sound of Juice’s voice saying your name.

He was crouched in front of you, hand resting gently on your cheek as he waited for you to say or do something to indicate whether or not you were hurt. You couldn’t force any words out, so instead you leaned forward into him, head burying in the crook of his neck as you sobbed. He wrapped his arms around you, squeezing you tight to him.

He cradled the back of your head in his hand, “It’s okay, you’re okay.” He turned back to Jax and Opie, “Go let the guys know what went down,” he paused, waiting for Jax to meet his eyes, “And tell Clay that he solves this shit tonight or I fucking will.”

You heard the sounds of their footsteps retreating out of the room. Juice pulled back from you so he could get a better look at you. You saw that you had smeared blood all over his neck and shirt. He saw the way your eyes went wide at the sight of it and instantly tilted your chin up so you were forced to look him in the eyes.

“Don’t even worry about that, alright?” his voice was soft, tears in his eyes as he looked at you, “Are you okay? Did they hurt you?”

You shook your head, finally making yourself speak, “No, nothing aside from my head.”

He let out a sigh of relief, “Thank god. I’m so sorry, Y/N. You never should have gotten caught up in this shit.”

“What’s gonna happen with…” your voice trailed off as you looked around the room, the carnage made your stomach turn.

Juice shook his head, “Don’t worry about that. It’ll all be taken care of,” he kissed you softly on the lips, “Let’s get you home and cleaned up. You able to ride?”

You nodded, “Yea, yea I’ll be okay.”

He scooped you up and carried you down the stairs of the warehouse. You clung tightly to him, you gripped his shirt harder than necessary, just needing the sensation of knowing that he was really there holding you. You buried your face against him, tears leaking out of your eyes and onto his neck and shirt. You heard the murmuring of the rest of the club as the two of you walked out of the warehouse, but you didn’t have the mental wherewithal to lift your head to look at or talk to any of them. In reality, you hardly heard what Juice was saying to them as he carried you over to his bike.

He gently placed his helmet onto your head and buckled it for you. He traced his thumb along your cheekbone, eyes filled with tears and love, and you wondered how he could still look at you like that when you had blood splattered across your face.

“I love you,” his voice was hardly a whisper.

“I love you too,” you practically melted into his touch.

He hopped on the bike in front of you and started to pull away. You wrapped your arms around his waist and settled against his back, shutting your eyes as you did. The only things you wanted to concentrate were the sound of his bike, the feeling of his body heat seeping from his back into your chest, and the thought of taking a shower and lying down in bed with him once you both got home. You let out a shaky breath as you squeezed your arms around him tighter for a moment, more thankful than ever that it was something that you were able to do.

[basicjetsetter]

Part III

♡ Pairing: Peter Parker x Black!FemaleReader

▹ Warnings: Mild Language, Small mention of suicide attempt, Start of the Slow Burn

▹ Words: 3.1k

▹ A/N: Get ready for the slowest slow burn of your life.

Peter Parker is your Soulmate.

Peter Parker is also Spider-Man.

Your bewildered brain tries to rapidly absorb this news as he swings you back onto your apartment’s roof and nimbly sets you down on your feet, safely away from the ledge.

Well, that explains all the times he went missing during school trips. Those days are like a distant memory now, but you hazily remember the day Spider-Man rescued your classmates from a collapsing elevator in the Washington Monument. It was all anyone in Midtown talked about for weeks.

The boy-next-door was your friendly neighborhood Spider-Man all this time. Shock lags in your system. For some weird reason, you aren’t that surprised by the sight of Peter in the Spider-Man suit or by the idea of him being an Avenger, and as you stand on this roof mere feet from him, all you're concerned about is what he might possibly say.

Your heart races as you skeptically watch him spin around to face you. 

He rubs a quick, nervous hand against the back of his neck and then, in a split second, pulls off his mask.

Time’s barely touched him, but then again, you long pieced together that your Soulmate must have suffered from the blip. His slightly disheveled hair is still the same chestnut brown, and his cute, boyish features remain intact. The only thing different is his eyes. Nothing extremely drastic changed about them, but even in the dark of night, you spot that they’re somehow more mature than you remember, older in a way that oddly aches a small place in your heart.

All while you scrutinize Peter’s exposed face and apprehensively stare into his eyes, part of you braces for the fireworks to explode and all the stars in the universe to align. This is it, isn’t it? The fated moment your childhood stories preached to be an epically magical experience? Aren’t you supposed to feel something? Anything?

A cricket chirps nearby.

Peter clears his throat, extends a hand to you, and sheepishly says, “Um, h-hi.”

You stare at his hand until it drops down to his side.

“Oh, geez!” he smacks a hand to his forehead. “Sorry, sorry. That was dumb. You probably aren’t thinking about that right now. Are you okay?”

It takes a while to part your lips, and once they’re open, all that comes out is, “Huh?”

“Are—are you okay? You just fell off that ledge over there,” he adds the last part with a gesture to the ledge, as if he’s trying to jog your memory.

You glance at the edge of the roof behind you, then slowly drag your gaze back to him. “Yeah.” Shaking your head, you repeat louder, “Yeah, I’m fine. It was… it was an accident.”

He blows out a relieved breath. “That’s great. Glad I got to you in time cause that would have been a nasty fall.”

You try to hide your flinch, but you’re sure he catches it because he immediately casts his eyes downward, mumbling more apologies while shuffling from one foot to another.

Sobering silence clouds the air around you as the last five minutes replay in your mind. You nearly died. You were seconds away from ending your life. Peter Parker saved you.

Gulping past the enormous lump in your throat, you whisper, “Thank you.”

Both sides of Peter’s mouth quirk up into a soft smile. “You’re welcome.” He pauses for a few beats, appearing to choose his next words carefully, then says, “So… you’re my Soulmate.”

Hearing him speak the words aloud thickens the obstruction in your throat, and all you offer back is an acknowledging nod, which expands Peter’s smile into a grin so bright it trips up your galloping heart.

“I was beginning to think I’d never meet you. I kept, you know, hearing you say my name in my head, so I kinda guessed you were still out there somewhere. Just never thought you’d be in my neighborhood.” He holds out his hand again, and this time you grudgingly shake it. “We had Spanish together, right?”

Once again, you’re stunned into silence. How the hell does Peter even know you? Back in your high school days, you don’t ever remember speaking a word to him, let alone doing something memorable enough for him to know which class you took together. As far as you can recall, Spanish was the only class you shared, and half the time, he was too busy waiting for class to end to notice you.

While you search your memory's repressed files to trace back any time you may have interacted with Peter, he says your name, causing your eyes to flash to his. 

“You know my name?”

“Yeah…” he answers like it’d be strange if he didn’t. “We were in the same class for a while, and you painted that really awesome Starry Night with my friend, Ned.”

Something faintly warm and fluttery pitches around in your chest, but you’re quick to stow away the feeling into a locked box. It’s just a compliment—nothing more, nothing less. He seems like a nice guy and all, but there is clearly nothing between you two. No sparks. No deep gazes. No instant connections. Nothing.

Disappointment stings like a cut in your chest as you hurry over to the ledge and gather up your art supplies. When you turn back around, Peter’s staring at you with disheartened confusion, furrowing his brows.

Words haphazardly spill out of your mouth. “It was nice meeting you, Peter, and um, thanks for saving me, but I gotta go cause I have work early in the morning, and it’s super late—” 

“Wait, wait, wait!” he rushes, marginally lunging forward as you take a few steps toward the exit, hand outstretched to stop you. “I just—can you tell me where you work? Maybe I can come by, and we can, y’know, talk a little bit. Get to know each other?” he ends with a hopeful, lop-sided smile.

The “No, I don’t think that would be a good idea” sits right on the edge of your tongue, armed and ready for dispatch, but Peter’s anxious little smile stalls it in its tracks. Instead, you shockingly find yourself replying, “Hal’s Diner.”

Peter perks up. “Oh, cool. I know that place. It’s got good pie. So… um, guess I’ll see you tomorrow?”

“Yeah,” you mumble, trying hard not to kick yourself for giving in so easily. Out of courtesy, you force a small smile onto your lips and say, “Goodnight, Peter.”

He returns your smile ten-fold. “Goodnight.”

As the exit door shuts behind you, you hear the slightest Thwip.

Why couldn’t you just say no?

✦ ✧✦ ✧

Bright and early, you show up at Hal’s Diner thirty-five minutes before you’re scheduled to be there, currently helping Hal prep for the Sunday breakfast crowd. To say your boss was astonished to see you at the front door nearly an hour before opening would be an understatement, but he thankfully didn’t question you.

After everything that transpired last night, from the fall to meeting Peter, the last thing you expected was a restful night’s sleep, but you were zonked the moment your head touched the pillow. For the first time in forever, those words didn’t plague your dreams and your every conscious thought. Your mind is now gloriously quiet.

You finally met your fated person, and now, you can eventually move on.

Except, not really… because Peter thinks it’s necessary to get to know you. Not if you can avoid it.

With that thought looming over your head from the second you woke up, you zoomed through your morning routine and made it out of your apartment in record time. You didn’t really have a game plan or destination in the works when you left, but you knew that your hands and mind needed to be busy to keep the more pressing thought at bay. Hence, your reason for prepping with Hal. At the moment, he’s droning on and on about what a mess last night’s shift turned out to be while you peel potatoes.

“And that new hire, the Dennis kid, screwed up three orders. Three consecutive orders! Two of ‘em from the same couple. If the boy weren’t so good at cleanup, he’d be out the door,” Hal swears, eyeing his inventory list. “Looks like we’re gonna have to stock up on eggs again.”

You hum to show you were listening, but it didn't really matter. Hal could go on like this for days, with or without an audience.

He leans his heavy body against the gigantic industrial refrigerator, then perches his thick-rimmed glasses on the bridge of his bulbous nose. “Alright, now you mind telling me what’s got you here so early?”

“Nothing,” you lie breezily, taking your bowl full of naked potatoes to the sink to rinse them off. The hot water runs freezing cold but gradually warms as you painstakingly rinse the whole surface of every potato, struggling to keep your hands and mind busy. “Just thought I’d be a good employee and help out my boss.”

“Yeah, right,” he scoffs with a laugh, “If that’s true, then there must be pigs flying in Central Park.”

You counter, “Are you insinuating I’m not a good employee?”

“No. Good help like you is hard to come by these days, and everyone in Queens knows I’d be the first in line to praise your workmanship. I’m actually just expressing a nagging concern I have with you notoriously being late and then, in the blink of an eye, turning up here before I can even fit the key in the door. Now, either something’s real wrong or something’s real right. Which one is it?”

Experience with Hal and his prying questions over the last three years taught you how to lie tactfully. Always start with a full lie, then go with a half-truth to throw him off your trail. “I finally got more than four hours of sleep.”

“Great!” Hal beams, clapping his hands together. “Now, why’s that?”

You sigh exasperatedly, “For the love of—Can’t good news just be good news, Hal? Must there be an explanation?”

“Alright, alright. I’ll back off.” He pushes his glasses back up, harrumphing, “Just know that truth is too damn narcissistic to be kept in the dark. It always finds a way to be seen.”

With that, Hal grabs a tattered dishrag and a bottle of cleaning solution off the nearest counter and leaves you in the kitchen, heading out to the dining area to give the booth tables one more wipe down, grumbling about buying new upholstery for the seats.

Try as he might, Hal doesn't have a hope of scaring you into telling him the whole truth. You’re not rolling over that easily. No one in this diner is ever going to find out that you met your Soulmate, and if you’re lucky, it’ll stay a secret until literal pigs are flying in Central Park.

Somehow, someway, you’re going to figure out how to escape whatever this connection is because there must be some cosmic loophole for those who simply don’t want their destiny. There’s no way you’re the only person on this planet who’s ever decided to break from their Soulmate.

If there is any sliver of a connection between you and Peter, he’d understand why you can’t stay. He’d understand, and he’d move on.

You hold onto this hope throughout the rest of the workday. Hal doesn’t badger you again as the diner opens and the Sunday crowd comes bustling in, hungry for syrup-saturated French toast sticks and freshly brewed coffee.

Every time the welcoming bell at the entrance jangled, your eyes fearfully snapped to the door, expecting chestnut hair and a boyishly thousand-watt smile. And every time it wasn’t him, an obnoxious pebble of dismay sank to the pit of your stomach. Between serving customer after customer and watching the door, time slipped away from you, and before you even registered the difference, the warm afternoon sun streamed directly into the diner, and the last ten minutes of your shift approached.

Chris is dragging out a goodbye with a dazzled mother and her teenage son, inadvertently milking more tips out of them with a hilarious story about his favorite ketchup stain on his apron, while Wendy mops over the same black and white tiles for the seventh time, blinking in and out and stifling yawns. You set down two plates of grilled cheeses and steak fries for a young couple, smiling with your plastic smile and brightly telling them to enjoy their meals and to call for you if they need anything else.

As soon as you turn around to check up on the regulars sitting at the stools, the bell jingles, and there in the entrance stands Peter, cheerfully greeted with a perfectly timed, “Welcome to Hal’s, dude!” from Chris.

Your heart stutter-stops, then bursts into a full-on sprint, and before you even understand what you’re doing, you duck down, scurrying behind the bar. Two regulars on the stools, a middle-aged biker nicknamed Spikes and his buddy Garrick, lean over the counter with querying stares. Hastily, you mouth, I’m not here, and they curtly nod in unison, sitting back down.

On the other side of the bar, you hear Chris seat Peter in a booth that sounds dangerously close to your hiding spot, so you squinch down as far as you can go, balling yourself up in a position your knees and back will hate you for later.

“My name’s Chris, and I shall be your server this fine afternoon. Anything I can start you off with…?”

“Peter,” Peter fills in, then answers, “And a slice of Banana Cream Pie would be great.”

You intently listen to the scratch of pen against paper as Chris scribbles down the order. “Sweet, dude. I’ll bring that out to you as soon as possible.”

“Thanks. And, hey, um… does a girl named Y/N work here?”

Your eyes bulge.

“Yeah! Do you want me to get her?” asks Chris helpfully while you internally scream, adding, “I think she might be in the back. Could have sworn she was out here a second ago.”

The best scenario out of this situation would be if Chris miraculously misses your hiding spot, walks into the back and sees you’re not there, then comes back out, missing you again, and informs Peter that you must’ve gone home early. The absolute worst being Chris trips over you and nearly breaks his neck.

By the way things are shaping up, you might as well give yourself away.

“Y’all talking about the little miss with the bun in her hair?” Spikes gruffly interjects. “Cause you just missed her.”

You almost puff out a sigh as relief washes over you like a tidal wave. Spikes has got free burgers and milkshakes coming his way for a month.

“Huh… thought she was here.” Chris stays quiet only for a second, probably questioning the efficacy of his eyesight, before speaking to Peter again. “Sorry about that, man. Still want that pie?”

Just like that, your heart kicks into high gear. Please don’t say yes. Please don’t say yes. Please don’t say yes.

Again, to your utter relief, Peter says, “No, thanks, I actually gotta get going. Mind if I borrow your pen and paper real fast?” You hold in a tense breath as Chris rips off a piece of pad paper and hands it to him. More pen scratches against paper, then Peter speaks up, “Can you make sure this reaches her?”

“Definitely. Have a good rest of your day, and come back anytime, dude.”

You don’t uncoil yourself from behind the bar until the door jingles again and a good five minutes pass. Your muscles and joints achingly cry out from the mistreatment as you warily stand to your full height, and Spikes and Garrick give you a confirmational thumbs-up when you smile at them gratefully.

Chris, spotting you out of the corner of his eye, swivels around and gapes, “Where’d you just come from?”

“The back.” Not entirely a lie.

Chris frowns, “But Spikes just said—”

“I was leaving,” you hurriedly cut in. “But I—I, um, I forgot to…” Your eyes rove around the diner and land on the couple you recently served. You hit your head with your palm in an oops manner and nervously chuckle, “I forgot to give those guys their check. So, I’m just… gonna go and… do that.”

You skirt around Chris’s inquisitively raised eyebrow and head over to the cash register to tabulate the couple’s bill. That was a way too close call. And by the way Chris is still staring at you, it looks as if you’re far from being out of the woods.

Once you hand the couple their check, rush to the back and clock out for the day, and come back out in the dining area to leave, Chris is waiting by the door, holding up the triangled piece of paper Peter left for you.

“Some guy named Peter came by to see you. You know him?” A flash in his eyes dares you to deny it, as if he caught onto your game.

You defiantly square your jaw. “I might. Did he leave that for me?”

“Maybe,” he shrugs, “Wanna tell me who he is?”

“No, I don’t think I will,” you winningly grin as you snatch the paper from his hand.

Chris wears the same winning smile. “Fine, don’t tell me. I’ll ask him when he comes back tomorrow.”

You blanch, “Wh-what—what makes you think he’s coming back tomorrow?”

“All my customers come back. Always,” he promises. Chris never seemed like the type to issue positive threats, but here he is, threatening you with that friendly smile lighting his jovial face.

The promising threat rings in your ears as you walk out the door and head to your apartment. Halfway there, you remember the crumpled piece of paper grasped in your balled-up fist. You move out of the flow of pedestrian traffic, lean against the brick façade of a mini-mart, and unfold the paper.

Peter’s straight-forward scrawl reads: Sorry I missed you. Be back earlier tomorrow :) – Peter P., and at the bottom of the note is a phone number with an arrow pointing to it, saying, My cell #.

A small, itty-bitty smile flits across your lips as your eyes linger on Peter’s smiley face, and for the briefest moment, you’re transported back to the roof, losing your breath all over again as he smiles that innocently beautiful smile.

Avoiding him is going to be tougher than you thought.

...

Part IV

[mgg-theprettiestboy]

cross my heart (pt.3)

spencer reid x oc

cross my heart masterlist

word count: 1103

“Pretty boy’s got his head in the clouds.” Spencer snapped out of his daydream to find the source of the teasing sing-son voice. As suspected, it had come from Derek, who had a grin plastered on his face, “thinking about someone, huh Reid?”

“I’m thinking about the case,” he said, standing from his chair to go over to the poster board and pin another crime scene photo up.

“Uh huh, sure. C’mon, man, you know you can tell me anything,” Derek said, leaning back against the table covered in files and watching Spencer take a step back to view the whole pin board, his tongue darting out over his lips before he spoke, “there must be a key component of the profile that we’re missing, or we’re wrong about.”

He sighed, “okay kid, you don't wanna talk about it, that’s fine. But you know I’m always here if you do. So, what do you think we messed up? Maybe the gender?”

Spencer glanced to his friend, giving him an small appreciative smile before getting back to work.

-

“I’m glad you’ve found a nerd friend.”

Raye rolled her eyes, setting another mug down for Tamara to dry. This was one of those nights when The Hideout was completely empty. They usually had at least three or four people in at this unreasonable hour, but for once, there was a quiet period in the cafe.

“Thanks. And he’s not a nerd. Well, maybe a little. He’s a literature nerd, that’s for sure,” Raye said, and Tamara scoffed, “says the one with a degree in the subject.”

“I mean, yeah, I am. That’s besides the point,” Raye dismissed, picking up another dish to clean, “my point is, that I need to pick a new book to give him. It’s my turn to recommend something to him, and I can’t think of anything. Head empty, no thoughts.”

Tam rolled her eyes at her friend, “oh come on, suggest one of the classics. Tell him to read fuckin’ Hamlet.”

“No, Tam! Shakespeare is boring when you’re forced to read it. I need something that’ll impress him, something that he probably hasn’t already read,” she said with a frown. Tamara sighed dramatically, “dude, I don't know! I’m a faker, okay? I talk a big talk, and I own this cafe with the books and shit, but I haven't read like any of them. They bore me. I just like the whole academia aesthetic.”

Raye snorted a laugh, washing the final dish before drying off her hands, “I get it. I like it too. I guess I’ll just go to the library and see if any inspiration strikes me. It opens in a couple of hours.”

Tamara gave her friend a look, before glancing back down to her hands. She didn't want to make her concern for her friend so obvious, because she knew that her concerns would just be dismissed. But Tamara couldn't ignore the nagging feeling, that things just weren't right. “How are you doing? With everything?”

Raye inhaled sharply, “I’m fine. Don't talk about it.”

“I just think that maybe we should, G,” she said, before raising her hands in defence at the look she got, “sorry, I’m sorry, I keep forgetting.”

“Spencer heard you call me G that day we met. I told him it was a nickname for my middle name,” Raye mumbled, and Tamara raised a brow, “well, technically not a lie. Because it’s Giselle, right?”

“Right,” she nodded slowly, and Tamara sighed softly. The bags under her eyes were becoming more prominent every day, and they both knew it. Tamara pushed away the obvious concern, and took her attention back to their most urgent problem, “just recommend something you liked reading. That’s what he wants, right? To find out what you like, and read it?”

“I guess so, yeah,” Raye said softly, picking at her nails, “I just wanna impress him, I guess. I doubt he’ll enjoy Narnia as much as me.”

Tamara giggled, shaking her head, “you might be surprised. Doctor Reid is full of surprises, trust me.”

“Doctor?” Raye tilted her head, “i didn’t know he was a doctor.”

“Yeah, he’s got a handful of PHDs. I think one of ‘em is in math, can’t remember the rest,” Tamara said, as if it was the most casual thing in the world. Raye sat in silence, before shaking her head, “what can’t he do?”

“Probably cook. Or do laundry. With men, there’s always a downside, trust me. Glad I never have to get with another straight guys,” Tamara said, and Raye gave her a look, “you’re bi.”

“Yes, and? Doesn’t mean I’m gonna be running after any more fuckin’ straight dudes, no sir. Me and Ollie are very happy,” Tamara said, and Raye furrowed her brows, “I thought you guys were fighting.”

“We were. She found it odd that I suddenly had this friend from high school called Raye who I never mentioned before, and now spend so much time with.”

Raye felt guilt tug at her heart frowning, “I’m sorry.”

“You have nothing to be sorry for, G- I mean, Raye. We kissed and made up. I think Ollie just got a little jealous that I had another woman in my life. You know I was always more friendly with the guys. I just never really had friends that were girls. And I never mentioned you, cause we went our separate ways after high school,” Tamara reasoned, hopping up to sit on the counter opposite where Raye stood. She just sighed, “I am sorry, though. I just barrelled into your life and now look at the consequences.”

“Shut up, you’re always welcome here. This is your home now. Where were you before this?” Tamara queried, watching as Raye sat on the counter opposite her. She took a deep breath, looking around the empty shop before answering, “California. LA, to be specific. I didn't really like it there. I liked Louisiana, everyone was so nice. Hated Florida. And Texas.”

“How many years has it been... since you’ve seen your mom?” Tamara asked cautiously, knowing it was a sore spot. But since she was slowly getting her to open up, she figured there was no harm in trying to ask. Raye flinched slightly, before murmuring, “it’s been six years.”

Tamara felt her heart hurt a little. She couldn't imagine a life without her parents, “I’m sorry. I can't imagine how hard it is. But you know, the way you're living... its not gonna be like this forever.”

Raye nodded in agreement, but deep down, they both knew that she might be wrong.

-

NEXT CHAPTER

a short, but important chapter ;)

comment and tell me what you guys think! I have so many ideas for this fic, so feedback is always appreciated!

also i was considering maybe making this a reader fic rather than an oc fic? again idk so comment or send asks if you want :)

taglist: @slutforthegubes @pinkdiamond1016 @itsmyblogandillreblogifiwantto @fallinallinmendes @beyonces-breastmilk @spencerlikesapplejuice @pastathighs @gcblers @hushfakebitches @ijustcomeheretoread @thelovelyrose @187-reid @madison-malfoy @averyhotchner @haylaansmi

[transromansanders]

We Can Live Forever, If You’ve Got the Time: Chapter One: Roman’s Life Does a Backflip Unsuccessfully

AO3: Link

WC: 3,229

Ships: Rosleepxiety, Intrulogical, Moceit, Pintroverts

Warnings (chapter): homophobia, gun violence, minor character death, blood

A/N: Hey, So this has been in the works for a while. I’m finally in a place motivation-wise where I feel like I can get out at least the second chapter in a timely manner. Also! I’m looking for someone to beta read for errors in grammar and continuity. If you feel the urge to volunteer, please do so, I need help ;-;

Chapter 1 under the cut

"Daddy!" a small voice whisper-yelled. Roman groaned, rolling onto his back from his side. "Daddy!" the little voice whined. Roman managed a sleepy smile, but then little hands and knees were pressing into his bare chest and stomach. 

"Oof! Emile, you little monster," he groaned, capturing the three-year-old in his arms and rolling back onto his side with Emile next to him, between himself and Alandria, who was snoring, her dark hair framing her face and haloing out on her pillows. Her steel-grey eyes were hidden behind closed lids, and she smacked her lips when Emile rolled over and poked at her face. Roman wished he loved his wife.

Roman spared a look at the alarm clock on his bedside table, groaning again at the time: 3:43 AM on a Monday. "Can we sleep a little longer, Bud?" Roman asked Emile tiredly. 

Emile nodded, turning over to face his dad again and curling up against his chest. 

Roman wrapped an arm around his son with a smile, pressing a soft kiss to the top of Emile's head. Then he dozed back off again. 

----

Roman smacked at the alarm clock as it blared at him, whining softly. Finally, he managed to turn it off, and he began sitting up, rubbing at his eyes.

Next to him, Emile sat up as well with a cute little yawn and Alandria was running a hand over her face, looking at her husband and son with a little smile. "Good morning," she slurred sleepily.

Roman chuckled. "'Morning, sleepyhead."

"Mommy!" cheered Emile, crawling on top of her now. 

She groaned a little, sitting up to hold him in her lap. Roman stood, bare toes curling for a moment against the cold white floor. The whole house was cold, cold and impersonal. Roman wished it was warmer. He wished Emile had a home, as a child ought to have. 

He lifted the blinds so the sunlight could shine in.

Then he turned back to the bed, smiling. "I'm going to make us some breakfast. How does cinnamon toast sound?" 

Emile cheered, and Alandria smiled and nodded. Roman clapped his hands together, grabbed a shirt, and headed to the kitchen, pulling the garment on. 

Soon they were sitting around the table with plates of cinnamon toast with fresh fruit in front of them. Emile ate messily, getting strawberry juice and cinnamon-sugar all over his face and hands. Alandria got a wet paper towel and cleaned him up. 

Then they were off, Roman and Alandria going to shower and get dressed, Emile sat in front of the TV with cartoons on until one of them got to him to make him put on real clothes rather than pajamas.

Roman showered and dressed first, in a pale red button-up, a black tie, and khakis with black leather shoes. Once he was done, he scooped up Emile, ignoring his protests and wiggling. "Come on, Emmy, gotta get dressed. Then you can ask Mommy if you can watch more cartoons."

Emile let Roman maneuver him out of his pajamas and into a shirt and some pants, giggling away the whole time. Roman poked his nose when he was done. "I bet Mommy's dressed now. Wanna go ask if you can watch more cartoons?"

Emile nodded vigorously and went in search of Alandria, while Roman poured a thermos of coffee to take with him.

Alandria and Emile met him at the door, off to run some errand or another. 

"I'll see you tonight," Roman said, pressing a kiss to the top of Emile's head. 

"Love you," Alandria said. 

"Bye," Roman answered. 

----

"Roman!" Patton Casey greeted. 

"Morning, Pat!"

That was the extent of his usual personal interactions with the red-haired receptionist, though he relied heavily on Patton for matters of business. 

He walked into his shared office, and his partner, Logan Hubbard, was, of course, already there.

"Did you hear about the execution tomorrow?" Logan asked. 

Roman raised an eyebrow. "What execution?" 

"It's a teenager. They say he was stirring up rebellion among the other youths. And he's openly gay," Logan mentioned. Logan was Roman's closest friend, and one of two people in the whole world who knew Roman's secret. But he had the exact same secret, too. 

"Shit," Roman remarked. "Are we going?" 

"You are scheduled to be there on behalf of the Governor's office, so yes, you are, but I am staying here," Logan answered. 

"Damn, can we trade?" Roman asked. 

"Not a chance in hell. Get to work, Picani."

Roman sighed and set about his daily tasks.

One thing that came across his desk caught his eye. An execution order for one Thomas Sanders, age 15… He signed it with a grimace on behalf of his boss, then scanned it and sent it to the other Governors' offices. 

Soon lunchtime rolled around. He ate with Logan, and he longed for one of their nights out in the underground gay bars that dotted the bad parts of the city. He and Logan had tried the secretly dating thing, after Logan had started this job, when they'd run into each other at one of said bars. It hadn't worked out; they were better as friends. Today, they talked about how Emile had woken Roman early and different ways Logan had read about to keep kids from doing that. Logan did not have a wife or children; he just liked to read. And, truly, he did want to be a parent one day. That was one thing Roman knew about him from their drunken nights together in Logan's apartment early in Roman's marriage. 

When lunch was over, they had a meeting. With Governor Baines. Roman hated those. Governor Baines was a thin, gaunt man with balding grey hair. His skin may as well have been grey, too, with how pale he was. 

The conference room was grey as well, unrelentingly so. Roman and Logan each told him the notable things that had been delivered to the office. Governor Baines often asked in a dull voice what they had just said and if they could repeat themselves. 

"Oh, and the Sanders execution order came in today," Roman said, trying not to wince. 

"Sanders…" Governor Baines mumbled. "Tell me about this Sanders."

"He's fifteen years old," Roman told him. No reaction. Roman sighed. "He's openly gay and has incited rebellion among the kids at his school."

"I presume you signed it."

"Yes, Governor Baines."

"Good lad, Picano." 

Roman frowned a little when the Governor got his name wrong. But he didn't correct him. 

Then the meeting was over. The next several hours were filled with filing and organizing. Roman talked at Logan about a TV show he and Alandria were watching as they worked. When he finally left, giving a little goodbye to Patton, he was exhausted. It was a good job, but not a fun one. 

----

"Daddy!" Emile cried as Roman opened the door, his tie loose around his neck. Roman laughed and bent down to catch the speeding toddler. 

"Hi, Emmy! There's my little man!"

"Hi, honey!" Alandria called from the kitchen. 

"Oh, let me help!" Roman offered, carrying Emile into the kitchen. "What can I do?" 

"Get the chicken in the pan, babe?" Alandria requested. 

Emile played on the floor as his parents cooked dinner. 

"How was your day?" Roman asked when they were finally sat down to eat. 

"Oh, fine," Alandria said. "We just did some shopping, then Emile and I worked some more on the alphabet, isn't that right, Em?" 

Emile nodded excitedly. "I can go all the way to 'O'! Listen! A, B, C, D, E, F, um, G, H, I, J, K, um… M N O!"

"You skipped 'L', Baby, but very good job," Alandria said as Roman clapped. 

Emile giggled and went back to his food. 

Roman didn't know what else to say, nor did Alandria, and Emile was too busy eating to keep up the conversation. So the rest of dinner passed in silence. 

When Alandria was finished, she wiped her hands and face on a paper napkin, then stood up. "Okay, Em, bathtime!" 

Roman was going to offer to do it, but something stopped him. He wasn't sure what, just that they needed this time together, but he just finished his meal, letting them go. When he was done, he went and got into pajamas and got the show he was watching with Alandria queued up. Finally, he met Alandria outside Emile's bedroom to put him to bed. 

They wrestled him into pajamas, Emile giggling and squirming the whole time. Then Roman scooped him up and dumped him on the bed, chuckling. "Okay, Monster. What story do you want tonight?" 

"The Tortoise and the Hare!" Emile cried, and Alandria retrieved it from the shelf. 

Roman opened the book and began reading in a silly voice. Emile yawned. 

By the time Roman was done, Emile was sound asleep. 

Roman quietly put the book up and crept out of the room with Alandria. 

They sat down on the couch and started their show, the TV on a low volume. Two episodes went by before they decided to go to sleep, wordlessly. They crawled into bed, and Roman was out in moments. 

----

"They're having an execution today," Alandria said the next morning after Roman had gotten dressed in his white button-up, khaki pants, dark red tie, and black dress shoes. 

He had to wince. "I know. You're not taking Emile, are you?" 

"Why wouldn't I? It's a part of life. He has to learn these things at some point," Alandria said. 

Roman sighed and nodded. He didn't want to argue. "Maybe I'll see you there. I'm scheduled to go."

The drive to work felt long. He stared at the road ahead of him, feeling irritated for a reason he couldn't place. 

Then he was walking into work, coffee in hand.

"'Morning, Pat," he said, voice a bit strained. 

"Good morning, Roman," Patton answered, sounding concerned. But Roman had ducked into his office before Patton could ask.

"Good morning, Roman," Logan echoed Patton. 

Roman just grunted, sitting down at his desk.

The rest of the morning went along monotonously. Then it was time for lunch. And the execution. He ate, but he didn't taste. He honestly wouldn't have had any idea what he was eating if it hadn't been labelled 'cranberry spinach salad'. 

Then he drove to the Execution Courtyard. The parking was a nightmare, as always on execution days. He spotted Alandria's car. 

It took him a little bit to find his wife and son, as they were toward the other side of the crowd from the parking lot. "Hi!" he greeted, taking Emile from his wife when the child reached for him with a squeal of "Daddy!"

It was about time for the execution to start. So where…? They were near the entrance where the guards would bring in the prisoner. That's when Roman realized what was happening. There was the boy, Thomas, and another guy, beautiful, with dark hair and sharp features, small and cute, but harsh-looking… and the guards on the ground, and a gun pointed at Thomas. The other guy was trying to pull the teenager away. The gun turned to him. Later, Roman couldn't have said why he'd done it. But suddenly, he was between the man and the gun, Emile gently placed on the ground next to him. And Alandria was between Roman and the gun before the guard had the chance to fire. 

Roman, surprised to not be dead, covered in a spray of blood, and largely in shock, picked up his son quickly and cradled him close to his chest, not letting him see his mother on the ground. 

"Come with us!" the dark-haired man hissed, grabbing Roman's arm and dragging him and Thomas through alleyways. Roman followed numbly, clinging to his son, who was crying in fear and confusion. They stopped in a dead-end alleyway behind some dumpsters. "Can you get that kid to quiet down?" their savior asked impatiently. 

Thomas held out his arms wordlessly, and Roman hesitantly passed Emile over. The toddler quieted pretty quickly, sticking his thumb in his mouth and curling up against Thomas's chest. 

"We stay here for two hours, 'til things quiet down, then our ride comes. Get comfortable," the other man said. He looked to be about Roman's age, now that Roman had time to really look. 

"Who are you?" Thomas asked slowly. 

The man held up a finger to his lips urgently, and several guards ran past their alleyway. A few moments passed, then he said quietly, "Name's Virgil. I work with some people who have a vested interest in keeping you alive, Thomas. Now, I want to know who he is."

Roman gulped. "Um, my name is Roman Picani… I work for Governor Baines's office… except I probably don't do that anymore."

"Probably not," agreed Virgil. "Someone, uh… Someone did get shot back there… Do you know—"

"My wife," Roman said, trying unsuccessfully to blink back tears. 

Thomas gasped softly. "I'm so sorry…"

"Can we not talk about it in front of my son?" Roman requested, and Virgil nodded in agreement, looking away. 

"Well, you'll be wanted now, Roman. Looks like you and the kid are stuck with us."

Roman nodded slowly, taking a deep breath. "I just ruined my life…" he said softly. 

"Maybe…" Virgil answered quietly. 

"If it makes you feel any better, I ruined mine a few weeks ago," Thomas contributed. 

Roman couldn't help a small, bitter chuckle at that. "So… what now?" 

"I'll leave it to Patton to explain that," Virgil answered. 

"Patton… Not Patton Casey?" Roman asked. 

"Yep, Patton Casey. My big brother," Virgil said. "You already know him from the office, then."

Roman didn't know Patton had a brother. And apparently, Roman didn't know a lot of things about Patton, as he was to find out when Patton pulled up at the entrance to the alleyway two hours later in a non-descript black car. 

Patton was surprised to see Roman and his son, to say the least. "V, what happened?" 

"Almost got shot," Virgil answered quietly. "Roman here tried to take the bullet. His wife took it instead."

Patton covered his mouth with a hand in shock. "Oh, Roman, I'm so sorry." 

Roman just took his son back from Thomas silently as they quickly got into the car. 

"Well, um…" Patton said. "I guess… Welcome to The Resistance."

----

The Resistance headquarters was a dilapidated house next to Housing Development Number 1. Patton led them all inside, having put Thomas in a baggy hoodie so he wouldn't be recognized. They stopped in the kitchen. The walls were painted yellow, the cabinets were white, and the appliances were old. The backsplash was a gaudily painted tile, and the countertops were light blue porcelain. There was a battered wooden table with mismatched chairs in the corner. 

"Alright, Thomas. You can take the room next to Virgil's and mine. Roman and Emile the one next to that," Patton said. "Sorry it's not that much, guys, but… it's what we have." He sighed. "This is always the hardest part. Settling in, getting all new clothes and things. Don't worry, Roman; we can get some toys for Emile." 

Roman nodded, holding the now-sleeping toddler closer to his chest. 

"You'll stay here for as long as you like, Roman. Until you're settled into this new life, then we can move you to another safehouse that's not so close to the action," Virgil said. 

Roman raised an eyebrow. "Exactly how big is this operation?" 

"Oh, we have branches all over the country," Patton answered. "This is just HQ for our province's branch."

"Who's in charge here?" Thomas asked. 

"You're lookin' at 'im, Kiddo!" Patton said cheerfully. 

Roman sputtered for a moment. Sweet Patton was the head of The Resistance in Shaw Province?!

"What?" Patton asked, directing his attention to Roman. He kept up his cheery demeanor as he asked, "Thought I was just the mild-mannered receptionist?" There was a hint of amusement to his tone. "Come on, we'll show you your rooms, then, um… then you can go take a shower, Roman," he said, gesturing for Thomas and Roman to follow him. "Virgil, send Gio or Perce to the store for clothes. Oh! What sizes are you guys?" 

Thomas and Roman listed off their clothing sizes, then Roman told them Emile's size as well. Virgil wrote it all down on a pad of paper he grabbed from the table. 

"Got it. See ya at dinner, Pat," Virgil said with a little wave. 

Patton showed Roman his and Emile's room, and Roman laid Emile down on the bed. The room was fairly empty, aside from bookshelves. When Roman looked a little closer, he realized it was mostly banned books. 

He turned back to Patton and Thomas in the doorway, and Patton looked nervous. 

"Um, Roman, there's something I haven't told you…"

Roman bristled a little, unsure what to expect at this point. 

Patton took a deep breath. "Your brother, Remus, he works with us sometimes."

"Remus… God, I haven't seen him in… years…" Roman mused sadly. 

"I know. He told me," Patton said, sounding sad. 

Roman nodded. "I… I need to rest…"

Patton nodded. "Of course. But shower first, okay? The bathroom is the door just across from this one. You can borrow some of my clothes for now. Should I wake you for dinner?"

Roman shook his head. "No, no, I'll eat in the morning," he answered. 

Patton smiled worriedly. "Okay, well… I'll go get you those clothes!"

"Goodnight," Thomas said before he and Patton left. 

Roman kicked off his shoes and sat down on the bed, petting Emile's hair; the toddler whined but didn't wake.

Soon, Patton was knocking on the door. Roman stepped outside and closed the door behind him. 

"Thanks, Patton," he said as he took the clothes Patton held out to him. 

"Are you okay?" Patton asked gently. 

Roman nodded slowly, taking a deep breath. "Yeah, yeah, I just…" He sighed, running his free hand through his hair. "...What about Emile? What is he gonna do? I can't send him to school, he doesn't have his mother anymore, he can't go home…" The tears spilled over, and Patton was quick to hug him. 

"Hey, hey, it's going to be okay, Kiddo," Patton said, rubbing Roman's back. "I know it's a lot, but it's gonna be okay."

Roman wiped roughly at his eyes. "Don't get me wrong, I'm… I'm glad Virgil is okay, I just…" He sniffled. "I've sacrificed my life for his."

Patton nodded sympathetically. "...Roman, do you believe that the government we live under is oppressive?"

Roman laughed bitterly through his tears. "I'm a gay man who's spent my prime married to a woman I didn't have any feelings for. I've signed death warrants for people like me and Thomas for a living for years. I know we live in an oppressive system."

"Maybe you should stay with us, then. Fight it," Patton suggested. 

"I'd like to… I have to do what's best for my son… I just need to figure out what that is," Roman bemoaned. 

"Well… We're all here to help. You're not alone," Patton assured him. "Shower and get some rest."

And Roman did. 

For the second night in a row, he was asleep within moments of his head hitting the pillow, exhausted.

[5-seconds-of-bucky]

My Everything

A/N: So my last fic did pretty good and now I’m writing another one because I was looking through prompts so Merry Christmas. This is quite possibly the longest fic I’ve ever written, which is kinda sad but not really. 

Summery: When what was supposed to be an easy mission goes horribly wrong

Pairing: Peter Parker x Avenger!Reader

Word count: 2.6k+ 

Warnings: Violence, mentions of injury/blood, swearing, some angst but only a little

The mission wasn’t supposed to go like this. It was simple. Come in, take down the guards, download some information, and get out. It was so easy, in fact, that Tony let you and Peter go alone, and he wasn’t exactly a fan of letting his youngest Avengers go anywhere alone. 

You two were great partners but you were still teenagers. Even if you were 17, Spiderman was pretty famous and the great teen assassin Y/N was a well known name.

You remember the first time you went on a mission together. You had both been Avengers for a while but you hadn’t gone on a mission together. He tried to stick close to your side the entire time but you were not having it. 

“What the hell are you doing!?” you asked when he ran up to you in the crowd of people. “You can’t be seen with me! Do you have any idea how much of a target that’s going to paint on your head?!”

“I already have a target painted on my head, I’m Spiderman,” he replied with annoyance. “You honestly think you’re the only one that people want dead!? We have a better chance at doing this whilst we’re together and you know it.” 

“You’re only a target when you have the suit on, Peter. Either put it on or scram. I can’t risk you being in danger without the suit while we’re out here.” 

You were very protective over each other. It took a while for both parties to realize that maybe it was more than just being protective because you were friends. Maybe it was because you were in love. You were too scared of losing each other completely. It didn’t take too long after that for you to make a move on him, eventually leading to the beginning of your relationship. 

That was also part of the reason that Tony was reluctant to let you go on missions alone. You were good kids and he knew you were responsible enough to make sure you didn’t get distracted by each other in the wrong way, but there was always a chance of it jeopardizing the mission. If one got hurt, the other might be more concerned with the wellbeing of their partner than completing the mission. 

That told you how easy it had to be. There was no way someone could get that hurt. 

“Okay, I’m gonna swing in and start taking out everyone that comes at me. You run through, go into the main room, and get the stuff on the hard drive. I’ll stay in front of the door so no one can get in. Once you’re done, signal me and we’ll run back to the jet. Got it?” Peter said as you squatted on the roof of a building across from the information center. 

“Got it,” you replied. “Everyone good on the coms?” You got the confirmation and stood up. 

“We got this, babe,” Peter said as he stood up, kissing you on the cheek before pulling his mask on. He pulled you into his side and shot a web over to the other building, placing you lightly on the ground next to the door when you landed. You pulled out your gun as he tested the doorknob. The door opened slightly and you both frowned. That was unexpected. He held a hand up, signaling you to stay still while he scanned the room. 

“I’m not sensing anyone in there,” he said in a confused tone. “Let me make sure though.” He creeped inside and you stayed by the door. Nothing but complete silence. He signaled you to come in behind him and you held up your gun, ready to take on any attacker that came your way. 

You made it halfway across the room by the time people started pouring out of a door near the back of the room and attacking you. 

“Go!” Peter said as he punched a guy in the gut. “I can hold ‘em off.” 

You raced off without a second thought, managing to make it across the room without being attacked. Something felt off about the room the second you stepped in it but you ignored it, pushing it off as nerves. You quickly hacked into a computer, stuck the USB stick into it, and started downloading information. 

You were too busy fulfilling the task that you didn’t catch the man pointing a gun at the back of your head; the noise from outside masking any sound coming from the room you were in. It was so loud out there that you barely heard the gunshot before you felt the bullet in your back. You collapsed in pain, now noticing the man with the gun. 

You struggled to get up, trying to remember what Nat had told you before the mission. Something about having enough strength to fight ‘em off if you strike in the weak spots. 

You stumbled as you stood up, noticing how the man was struggling with his somehow jammed gun. You lunged forward and grabbed his arm, using all you had left in you to throw him to the side. He managed to unjam the gun and shot you again; this time in the side. 

“Almost done in there?” Peter asked though the com. You could hear the grunts of the men he was fighting off through it. He didn’t have time to deal with you. 

“Few more minutes,” you said through gritted teeth as you kicked your attacker in the stomach. You tried to grab the gun out of his hands as he flew back but missed. He swung at you, hitting you in the jaw and making you stumble back. You caught a glance at the computer. Two minutes left to download. 

You lunged forward again, grabbing a hold of the gun and kicking the guy again and again until he fell to the ground. You slammed his head to the ground and knocked him unconscious. 

“Y/N, these guys keep coming. I’m not sure how much longer I can keep them off.” 

“I need thirty seconds.” The file finally finished downloading and you pulled the USB out. “Let’s get out of here.” You sprinted towards the door as fast as you could, eyes widening when you saw how many guards there were. Peter caught sight of you and broke free of the guards, catching up to you. 

The shots were raining on you. Peter’s suit was bulletproof for long enough for the two of you to get out, but your jacket and padding beneath did little to stop the bullets from hitting you. You started to feel a little faint and slowed down, causing Peter to look over with worry. He picked you up without a word and carried you out the meeting spot. He had no idea what was wrong. 

“What’s going on with you?” he asked softly as he placed you on the ground and squatted next to you. “Did you get hurt?” The grimace on your face was enough to send him into protective overdrive. 

 “I got shot.” 

“Y/N, oh my gosh. Where? Why didn’t you tell me?” He unzipped your jacket and lifted your shirt to reveal the bloody mess of your upper body. 

“Holy shit, there is so much blood,” he breathed.

“Please, I sneezed on my period and there was more blood than this.” He could hear you fading. 

“Nat, how far away are you?” Peter asked into the com, feeling more anxious than ever before.  

“About ten minutes. Why? Is something wrong?” 

“Y/N got shot.”

“How bad?” 

“It’s really bad. We need help bad.” 

“I’ll be there as soon as I can. Are you guys still in danger?”

“No.” 

“Tell her to hold on. I’ll be there soon.” 

“Nat, seriously. I don’t know how long she can hold on.” 

“Do your best Pete. We’ll be there in a few minutes.” 

His concern was replaced with anger for a moment. Anger at Nat for not already having to jet there. Angry that you jeopardized your life for that stupid hard drive.

“What the fuck is wrong with you!? Why would you hide an injury as bad as this!?” he seethed.

“It would have just slowed us down, I couldn’t risk your life like that!” You tried to sit up but Peter pushed you back down. 

“We could have found another way! You could’ve died. Hell, you could still die!” 

“There was no other way, Peter.”

“Are you kidding me, Y/N?” His demeanor softened again as he saw you fading. “Seriously, babe. I can’t deal with something happening to you.” He pulled your head into his lap, trying not to put you in more pain. He lifted a hand to brush your hair back and noticed the blood that came off onto his hand. So much blood. “You just gotta hold on.” 

“Pete, I don’t know how long I can.” Your eyes were fluttering and Peter could feel his heart rate rising by the second. 

“No, no, no. Karen, run a diagnostic.” 

“She’ll bleed out if you don’t stop it soon. Should I call an ambulance?” Karen said as the jet landed. 

“No, the jet’s here. Thank’s Karen.” Peter picked you up and started running towards the jet. Somewhere in that time, you passed out. 

“There is an incoming call from Mr. Stark. Do you want to answer it?” His suit asked as he stepped inside the jet. 

 “Sure.” He laid you down and let Bruce take over. “I thought it was just Nat.” 

“Thought I’d tag along,” Bruce muttered as he started running tests on you. “We need to get her back fast Nat. I don’t know how long we have.” 

Natasha just nodded as she got ready for take off. Peter sat down, head in his hands as he waited for the call to connect. He wanted to cry but he needed to be strong. 

“Hey, kiddo. Your heart rate’s up. You guys okay?” Tony asked.

“No,” was all Peter could choke out. 

“What happened?”

“We got the stuff but Y/N got shot and . . . and we don’t know if . . . if . . .” He couldn’t finish. The thought of losing you was unbearable. 

“Y/N’s going to be fine, okay? We’re not gonna lose her. Hang in there, Pete.” 

“Thanks, Mr. Stark.” The call ended and Peter threw his mask to the side. If he couldn’t protect you on a simple mission, how could he protect you when it got worse? 

The ride back to the compound felt like forever. He tried to block everything out but he couldn’t block out Bruce’s mumbled worries and your moans of pain when you woke up. He tried to go after you when they got to the compound but Nat held him back. 

“You need to get cleaned up. Give yourself some time away and think about something else. She’s going to be okay. Don’t dwell on it.” 

He tried. He tried so hard but he couldn’t think about anything else. He should’ve been able to feel that something was wrong when you got shot. He should’ve told you to get out. That your life was more important than that stupid information. He really could have lost you. 

He wallowed in his room for a while. People tried to come in to talk to him but he refused, ignoring their pleads to let them in. He even ignored the call from May. He didn’t respond to anyone until Bruce came to tell him that he could see you. 

“It was a close call,” Bruce said as they got close to your room. “I don’t know how long she’ll be out but it’ll be a while.” 

“Thanks.” Peter’s voice was soft as he opened the door. 

“Oh, and I think Tony wants to talk to you guys so he might be coming down here in a bit.” 

“Okay, thanks.” 

Bruce walked away and Peter entered the room. You were on your phone and he breathed a sigh of relief. You were actually okay. 

“Sup, bro?” You asked with a grin when you saw him. 

“How are you feeling?” 

“Like I could take down the entirety of Hydra by myself. How ‘bout you?” 

“Like I almost lost my girlfriend.” That comment wiped the stupid grin off your face. Humor was your way of coping with pain but seeing Peter like that made you realize that it might not be the best way to handle the situation.”You scared me so bad, Y/N.” 

“I’m sorry, Pete. I didn’t want to let Mr. Stark down and I figured I could fight through it. He’s always been apprehensive about sending us out together since we’re a thing. I wanted to prove that wrong. It was just two shots before we ran out. I’m fine now.” 

“I feel the same way but your life is so much more important than any mission. Please, promise me you’ll tell me the next time you get hurt. I can’t go through that again.” 

“I promise.”  

Peter took your hand in his and brought it to his lips, kissing it before scooting closer to your bed. 

“As stupid as you can be sometimes, I love you.” 

“Love you too, Spidey Boy.” 

Peter brushed a strand of hair that had fallen on your face and leaned down to kiss you. It was slow and passionate and everything you needed.  

You talked for a few more minutes before Tony came in. 

“Alright, you two. Tell me what happened.” 

So you explained the whole mission to him. Everything from the guy who shot you to all the guys Peter fought off. 

“It wasn’t your fault, but I’m going to work on making your gear more bulletproof for next time. One of those bullets got a little too close to your heart. You got lucky, Kid.” 

“Thanks, Mr. Stark.” 

“Alright, don’t do anything too crazy,” he said as he stood up. “I believe you’ve been put on bed rest for the next week at least.” Your huff of annoyance was not missed but it was ignored. “I’m giving you both a break for a bit. No more missions alone. At least, not for a while. We can’t afford to lose either of you.” With that, he left the room. 

“At least you don’t have to worry about training for the next week,” Peter commented. They had been pretty brutal lately. 

“It’s gonna be worse when I get back though.” 

“Yeah but you have a week to prepare yourself. Probably longer.” 

“If I pretend to be in pain long enough, they might give me more time.” You both laughed at that. 

~ 

It was two weeks before you got back to training. The second you were released from the medical wing, Peter was all over you. He constantly checked up on you and barely let you do anything yourself. He took every chance he got to cuddle you and tell you how much he loved you. Laying in bed together at night was his favorite time to talk with you. 

“I have the best and most badass girlfriend in the world,” he said, his arms wrapped around you, your head on his chest. 

“I am pretty badass,” you agreed. 

“You’re my everything.” 

You didn’t respond, almost asleep in the comfort of his arms. Peter couldn’t help but smile. He could admire your beauty for years and never get tired of it. 

“You will always be my everything.” He pressed a kiss to the top of your head and let sleep take over him, knowing that you were safe in his arms. 

[captainsassmanes]

Prompt: After Alex finds out about Michael/ Maria he gives up on him and Michael ever being really together. He is convinced that he's the worst thing to happen to Michael. He tries to make Michael's life easier by avoiding him and helping with Project Shepherd. So when Michael breaks up with Maria because he realizes he's still in love with Alex, Alex doesn't understand why he wants to be with him and becomes super insecure in the relationship. So Michael has to show him they're still cosmic.

I took some liberties, anon. I hope that’s okay.

It had been the longest year of Alex’s life.

His seventeenth year living alone with his father had felt long. His first deployment felt long. The second even longer.

His first year being in Roswell with Michael but not being with Michael? The longest.

He’d been proud of himself when Michael and Maria sat him down, neither able to look him in the eye, on the back deck of the Pony, each of them looking across the empty field instead of at each other.

Alex had clamped down on his emotions, swallowed his protests and sadness, and smiled, as genuinely as his muscles would allow. He had nodded along as Maria did all the talking, explaining how Michael was always there to help her, there for her when her mom kept getting worse instead of better, made her feel safe and adored. He agreed when she said she deserved to be loved.

In the moment, he hadn’t been able to find the words. How could he express his happiness for his friend without breaking down with his own loss?

With a hug for Maria and a quick glance to a stoic Michael, Alex had left.

Sleep left him wanting that night. He moved from his bed to the shower to the porch to the bed to the couch, restless and uncomfortable. Without his permission, Alex kept imagining life from then on. There would be no way to avoid them and he knew, for his own sanity, those relationships had to be over. Maybe one day he’d rebuild with Maria though he couldn’t picture it now.

But Michael?

Alex sat with his third glass of whiskey, mindlessly petting a sleeping Buffy’s head, trying to slow his heart rate. It was done. He knew Michael was the one, his person, the one he wanted to spend his life with. He’d known it when he was surrounded by computers, orders being barked in his ears across the country. He’d known when his lungs were filled with hot, desert sand and his ears echoed with explosions. He’d known it as soon as Michael put a hand on him at the airstream, turning him around and stopping the world.

Michael was the one.

But he wasn’t his. And he never would be.

“May your happiness last forever,” he toasted with a slur to the darkness. With a swig, the dark liquid was gone and the glass landed on the floor with a loud clank. Clumsily, he took off his leg, fingers not moving the way his brain was commanding. Eventually he felt the sweet release of the last latch and tugged the sock off, tossing it onto the couch.

Somehow, he managed to get to the front porch, hopping and holding on to anything he could find, too unclear to remember where he last had his crutches. He landed with a groan on the rocking chair, holding his arms and rubbing to keep warm against the early morning chill. The sun was shining through the trees, casting large shadows next to pools of warmth on the ground.

As he watched the sunshine spread and claim its territory, Alex made his decision. He’d do the right thing by Michael. He’d get all the intel he could from Project Shepard and then shut that shit down for good, make sure Michael and the Evans were just another trio of nobodies from Roswell. And he’d do it all while staying away. Michael wanted easy, simple? Maria wasn’t the only one who could give him that. Alex could be a ghost, vanish into the background to give Michael a chance at the life he deserved.

Even if it wasn’t with him.

So, for a year, Alex was an enigma. He went to work during the day, boring data analysis he could do in his sleep. But at night, he used his clearance and the information he not so legally obtained to hack into old records, disbanded programs, anything that looked like it could possibly be associated with UFO investigations.

Kyle checked on him regularly, bringing him greasy bags of goodies from the Crashdown or his mom’s empanadas. He’d stay, sometimes, chatting about interesting cases at the hospital or quietly combing through new files, sometimes updating Alex about the latest town gossip.

Never about Michael, though.

The last month had been insane after he’d acquired the final pieces of the Shepard puzzle and handed them over to a newly risen Max with his five thousandth apology.

Max had squeezed the files in his hand, knuckles turning white and papers wrinkling, before pulling Alex into a surprise hug. Max had whispered an emotional, “thanks,” before letting him go and walking away. That moment felt final, like Alex could finally close the book on the disaster that was his family’s legacy. With his father in military prison for the foreseeable, Alex was finally free of obligation.

The next few nights after handing over the last of Shepard, Alex sat in the bunker, computers silent, only a few lights on, and breathed in the peace of it all. At first, he’d sit with a smile on his face, shoulders relaxed, and hands unfurled. He slept well for the first time in a long time. But on the third or fourth day, sitting in that bunker with no work to be done, no worries to be had, a new reality struck Alex.

He had no purpose. And no one.

His job was through. Responsibilities complete.

It was these thoughts running aimlessly through his mind that put him in his comfortable sweats with a glass of whiskey in his hand. As he decided a Scott Pilgrim rewatch sounded good, his phone rang, Kyle’s name popping up on the screen.

“Hi.”

“When were you gonna tell me, Manes?”

Alex stupidly looked around the cabin for the answer to Kyle’s question. “Tell you what, Valenti?”

A muffled scoff greeted Alex. “About you and Guerin? Liz just told me. I’m so happy for you, man!”

“Whoa, whoa,” Alex stood up from the couch too fast, spilling his drink a bit and trying to cover up the wet spot on the floor before Buffy came to get sloshed. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“They split up, Alex.”

He froze, afraid that if he moved Kyle would say just kidding and his heart would shatter. He took a deep breath before mumbling, “I haven’t spoken to either of them in, like, a year.”

“Yeah I know that, you dumbass, but it doesn’t seem to matter.” Alex rolled his eyes at Kyle’s enthusiasm.

Grabbing some paper towels from the kitchen, Alex leaned over and cleaned up his mess, Buffy never moving from her prime location on the couch. “What doesn’t seem to matter, Kyle?”

“Ugh, oh my God you have to get out more! That he hasn’t seen you, Alex! He broke up with her for you! He still loves you!”

A wave of nerves moved through him but he was in strong denial. There was no way. They hadn’t seen each other, hadn’t spoken. Michael didn’t feel anything for him, at least nothing that wasn’t disgust and anger. Plus, Maria was perfect, they fit well together.

“This doesn’t make sense. If you’re fucking with me-“

“No chance in hell, dude. I would never mess with you over Guerin. Never.”

Alex dropped the towels and sat back on the couch, eyes staring at the black tv. “I’ve gotta go.” He hung up before Kyle could say another word and felt the phone fall out of his hand.

Hope.

He’d promised himself it was done, that he was done. Michael had made himself clear: loving Alex was the worst thing that ever happened to him. Alex had been determined the fix what he could to keep Michael and the people he loved safe. He did that. He did it while staying out of everyone’s way. He did exactly what he was supposed to, followed his plan to a T.

So why would they break up?

He grabbed a glass of water and downed it, gasping for air once it was gone. He refilled it and repeated one more time. Confused, scared and exhausted, Alex climbed into bed, a tolerant Buffy allowing him to hold her close. It took a few hours for sleep to come, so many scenarios and thoughts clouding his brain, keeping it too busy to shut down.

Eventually, he started counting Buffy’s soft snores and he fell into a restless sleep.

The sound of metal against metal woke Alex, hand instinctually reaching into his bedside table for his gun. But he paused when he noticed his room was filled with sunshine, Buffy was missing but not barking and his intruder was humming a Fall Out Boy tune he couldn’t find the name of.

He wiped his eyes and quietly slid his prosthetic on. Kyle must be in one of his moods. Maybe feeling guilty about the bullshit he called with the night before.

Turning the corner, kitchen in full view, Alex thought he might faint. Flipping pancakes in his cabin like he owned the place was Michael fucking Guerin.

The warm feeling that coursed through his chest couldn’t be denied. Michael looked perfect standing there, first thing in the morning, in his socks making breakfast. He was smiling, still humming the same song while Buffy sat wagging at his feet. Alex covered his mouth, physically restraining himself from speaking, afraid he’d beg Michael to never leave.

As he stood silently watching, that warmth turned to anger and bitterness. This was such an invasion of privacy. Alex knew he’d locked the door the night before. And, besides, they hadn’t spoken in months. Michael’s solution to that was to show up, uninvited? Play the domestic game?

“I don’t remember giving you a key,” Alex said when he found his voice and was confident he was in control again.

Michael jumped slightly but the smile never left his face. “You know me. Don’t need ‘em. Hope you’re hungry. Made your favorite.”

Moving a bit closer, Alex furrowed his brow, sure Michael had no clue what his favorite food was. Excitement flooded his veins as he watched Michael put the finishing touches on churro pancakes.

“Go on, sit down. I’ll grab you a coffee.”

Maybe it was the early hour or the shock of seeing Michael or some combination of both, but Alex moved in a daze to the small table and took a seat, wrapping his hands around the mug of perfectly made coffee Michael placed in front of him.

When the churro pancakes slid under his chin, Alex was pulled out of his shock.

“Michael, what the hell is this?”

He got a smirk in return, all straight, white teeth and plump, pink lips. “Just tryin’ to do something nice, Private.”

“Why now?”

With a mouthful of pancakes, Michael shrugged and asked, “why not now?”

Alex pushed his plate away, stomach churning with anxiety. “It’s been a year, Guerin. Your relationship had its run and now you don’t wanna be alone? So, where’s Alex? Bet he’s just sitting there, alone and pathetic, waiting.”

Michael shook his head and straightened his posture. “No, that’s not what this is.”

“Then what is it?” Alex stood and walked outside, needing space and more air than the cabin could offer. He gripped the wood railing, counting his breaths and listening to the birds chattering. The sun was pushing through the branches, tossing light here and there, a sliver of it landing on Alex’s hand, warming one up while the other stayed cool.

The door squeaked open and he heard Buffy’s paws on the decking before he felt Michael standing next to him, giving off a warmth he missed.

“I’m gonna make an assumption so I apologize in advance if I’m wrong.” Michael sounded hesitant, unsure. He waited for a response from Alex but must have decided he wouldn’t be getting one. “You’ve always hated Roswell.” Alex raised his eyebrows, his body naturally responding to the truth.

“I’m guessing you didn’t realize it was the only place that felt like home until you were overseas.”

Alex didn’t know what to say. The idea of agreeing with Michael didn’t sit right with him but he couldn’t deny that while he was spending nights in makeshift tents and praying the last bomb was the last bomb, he wasn’t dreaming of Roswell.

“So, you always hated me?”

Michael laughed and shook his head. “Jesus, we’re so good at this communication shit, huh?”

Alex laughed, too, and looked out over the property, watching a squirrel grab an acorn and run off with his treasure, holding it selfishly in its paw. “I guess so.”

“You left me. You helped me realize I was bi, you were so nice to me and then you were gone. I resented you for ten years.”

“Michael, I told you that I shouldn’t have-“

“Shut up. Just let me finish.” Alex pouted as Michael raised his hand. “When you came back, I hoped. I was an ass about it sometimes, I know, but I hoped we had a shot, that you still felt the same way about me. About us. But you didn’t want to be seen with me, didn’t want people to know about us, you pushed me away over and over again. So, after everything, with my mom…”

“You needed someone who’d stay close.”

Michael nodded and looked at his boots, kicking a twig onto the dirt. “I didn’t choose Maria to hurt you.”

Alex scoffed, “fucking felt like it, though.”

“Well, I didn’t.”

Alex shook his head, his bottle of empathy run dry. “I told you I loved you. That I wanted to start over again. I was ready.”

Michael nodded. “I didn’t believe you. And I shouldn’t have to work on your timeline.”

Alex tilted his head toward the cabin. “Okay. So why should I have to work on yours now?”

Michael bit his lip and looked toward the trees. “Fair enough.”

They stood in silence, listening to the sounds of undisturbed nature around them. Alex was still angry, filled with confusion and caution, but he’d be lying if he said simply being in Michael’s presence didn’t bring him comfort.

“I don’t get your analogy.”

Turning, Michael leaned against the banister and Alex had to look away. With his tight t-shirt and curls blowing in the breeze, Michael looked like a fucking dream.

“The war analogy?”

Alex nodded. “Yeah, that one.”

“It’s a bad one, but I convinced myself I didn’t love you. Then I was with someone else I know I loved and realized it’d never come close to how I feel about you.”

Blinking rapidly, Alex refused to cry. When he knew he had control of his voice, he asked, “are you gonna look away again?”

Michael slowly slid his hand into Alex’s and squeezed. “Never.”

[cecilspeaks]

157 - The Promise of Time

If it walks like a duck, and sings like a duck, And excretes slime like a duck, Then it’s a d- uh, you know? I don’t think that’s a duck. Welcome to Night Vale.

The future is here, listeners. The future is now. Dying has become a bad joke, and we wonder how we ever put up with it.t The Quality Cryogenics Corporation, run by one Casper Rhodes, is offering a simple solution. They will remove your brain upon death, freeze it, and then revive you hundreds of years from now, when the technology exists to live eternally. The town was recently traumatized by time working correctly and us all having to deal with aging, so this solution is exactly what we are looking for. And it only costs 10,000 in cash, no refunds. I am currently getting together the funds to purchase this service for both myself and my husband Carlos, because I believe that the two of us can live together forever. No more is there this awful time limit ticking down from the moment of our meeting until the moment of our parting. Now our brains will sit snugly next to each other, until we are weakened anew to a bright future.

Carlos says he is a little unsure about this, because he thinks that death is one of the most scientific processes of all. But he’ll come around. We’ll just talk about it, and he’ll see it my way. After all, we have the rest of our lives. And our lives – will never end.

Here’s the news. Now that we all know we’re going to get to live there, all any of us can talk about is the future. What is it going to be like? Will there be trees? Will we still have that insufferable moon? These are the questions we are all having to consider now that we will live forever. And one person is claiming to have those answers. A professional futurist and digital prophet named NZ has released a lengthy report outlining what the future is like. Apparently, skyscrapers will be twice as all, but also twice as thin. Each floor will only hold about one medium room or three very small rooms. But also, skyscrapers will have thousands of floors. The biggest revelation in NZ’s report is that in the future, menial labor will be done by robots! Robots will wash our cars, clean our toilets, and cook our food, leaving us all the time in the world to quietly boil in existential dread. According to NZ, these robots first enter the market in about a hundred years, and then really catch on until everyone has three or four at their disposal. And also everyone is so, so bored.

Man, the future sounds great. I can’t wait to get there! This has been the news.

Let’s have a look at today’s horoscopes. Leo. This is a fantastic month for new business plans, travels, meeting new people, and breaking out of the windowless prison cell you woke up in this morning. Good luck on all those exciting ventures!

Virgo. I hope you are not too attached to your left hand. Either way, you won’t be soon.

Libra. You will walk out from your house. The sun will look strange to you, even though you think it perhaps always looked like that. It will look like it always has, and it will look so strange. As you walk down the street, you will see a path you’ve never noticed before, leading away from the familiar into a dark and twisted wood. You will follow this path, the warm dirt softly crunching under your feet. At the end of the path, you will come to a small and cozy home. In the window will be a boy, and he will give you a sign. A hand to the side means it is safe to go on, a hand by the air means the burrowers are hungry tonight. A covered mouth means the time is nigh. You may proceed accordingly. Even the stars do not know what happens next.

Scorpio. You’re a great brother-in-law, husband, father and friend. And if it’s up to me - and let’s be honest, it is – the stars will never say another mean thing about you again.

Sagittarius. You are really walking on thin ice here, buddy! No really buddy, you are walking on thin ice, buddy look down, the ice is about to crack and the waters below are so cold and clear. You have never seen anything so beautiful.

Capricorn. You have spent your life searching for your soul mate. Finally, having given up on love, you have volunteered to board a starship destined to never return to our world. You will live out decades on that vast arc, developing close but platonic relationships with the few fellow humans that are with you. Finally, in your 83rd year, you will land on a planet that’s surface will appear to be made entirely of silver. You will step out onto that foreign terrain, and waiting for you will be an alien being made entirely of vapor, a wisp of a creature whose droplets will curl around you, and you will smile and realize that you have finally found your soul mate.

Aquarius. Your lucky number is five, which is also how many days you have left. That’s an auspicious coincidence!

Pisces. Everyone knows your terrible secret, and they think it’s really boring.

Aries. This just says “spiders” in increasingly large fonts for about seven pages. Aww, that’s cute!

Taurus. Turn your eyes to the heavens. Honestly, it’s better not to see what’s approaching from below.

Gemini. There will come a day in which you will have to go to the ocean. Who knows when that day will come. You might be hundreds of miles away form the ocean, you might be in an airplane or working on a farm in Ottawa. But there will come a day in which you will have to go to the ocean, and so you will travel in whatever attire you were wearing when you were called, barefoot and groggy, walking day and night until you see the glitter of water, until you hear the hush of the waves. And then you will walk into the ocean until only your head is above the surface, and you will laugh and laugh and laugh. And the ocean will laugh with you. But today is not that day. Who knows when it will come?

And lastly, Cancer. Uh huh. OK. Yeah. Everything is basically fine with you, yeah. You’re good. Nothingggggg tooo report.

This has been horoscopes.

Demand has become so high for the services of the Quality Cryogenics Corporation that Casper Rhodes announced that he has run out of space for brains. “Gotta stuff these head blobs somewhere,” he said, “but where to toss ‘em?” City Council agreed that this is an important problem, and immediately requisitioned large swaths for Night Vale real estate to serve as eventual brain storage locations. There are rumors that this move was made in exchange for free use of cryogenic services by the City Council. But the council vehemently denied the allegation and said to prove their innocence, they would arrest anyone who tried to say that they were guilty. Initially, the public library was one of the buildings intended to be converted to brain storage. But a single librarian scuttled out from the front door and stood eye to eyes with the City Council, until the City Council whimpered and backed down. At which point the librarian silently retreated, their deadly point made, their library safe. This is quite a change from when the only customer of Casper Rhodes was Charlie Bear, weekday shift manager at the Ralphs. Now there are only a few people left in town who haven’t signed up. I am a little ashamed to say that Carlos and I are one of those few, it’s y-, eh, taking me longer than I thought to scrape together the money and Carlos still wants to talk about it more but don’t worry, we will definitely join you all in the future. I will see you there!

Speaking of which, local futurist and digital prophet NZ is giving a seminar on the future. But attendance is expected to be low. Frankly, people find NZ’s predictions a little silly. After all, what does this NZ know about the future that we don’t? All any of us know about the future is that some day we will end up there, and by the time we get there, it won’t be the future. In any case, we expected more exciting predictions. Frequent space travel, miracle cures to the disease, and contact with more alien species than the three we know about in our primitive time. But NZ just won’t shut up about robots, and how much of the future is defined by robots serving us hand and foot. Only three people showed up to NZ’s seminar, one of whom was your faithful reporter, and one especially upset attendee even threw popcorn and led a chant of “Booriing!” during the part about the robots. And I’m not sorry I did it, either. It was very boring.

The family of missing person Frank Chen has filed a lawsuit against the city, declaring criminal negligence in allowing a five-headed dragon to claim the identity of their one-headed human family member, merely because the dragon carried about Frank’s ID. “You are all monsters,” said Frank’s sister Lauren. “Monsters! Monsters! Monsters!” She said this through a bullhorn, as she drove her convertible up and down the city streets. “But how could we have known?” the City Council fumed. “What, are we supposed to look into every suspicious disappearance in Night Vale? We only have 18 hands, we are doing the best we can.” The lawsuit will start with a document review and depositions. Currently, they are seeking all records on the suspected killer of Frank Chen, one Hiram McDaniels, who has not been seen in town for a couple years now. They also want to interview friends of Hiram, including a radio host who wouldn’t describe himself as a friend, more a dedicated observer.

And now a look at the stock market. [squeals] Wheee, ahahahaha! Ahahaha ooh, oo-hohoh, whaaaaaaaaa, hahah, wow!! This has been a look at the stock market.

Now let’s go over to – hello? Oh sorry, wha-what are you doing here? Listeners, the futurist NZ has entered the studio. They are waving at me frantically and holding up signs, um let me just put on my reading glasses. Embarrassing, but I suppose we all eventually reach that age. I never thought I would, but now that time is working correctly and I have aged – yes. Yes, no I see you, pointing at the sign, screaming NZ just give me a moment now where did I put those glasses? It’s in my pocket, oh [chuckles]. Now there’s some sort of metal man next to NZ. Oh, yes you have a sign, OK alright, alright, here’s my glasses! [clears throat] Uh, NZ’s sign reads “I am not a futurist, I am from the future. A time traveler sent back to warn you all.” And they’re still pointing at the metal man. Ah, this is one of those robots that NZ is always going on about! NZ is saying that everything they told us about the robots was true, and they brought one just to prove it, well hi robot! Oh, oh the robot has something to say? Oh, wait, it’s saying “I’m hardly a bear.” Well no, [chuckles] I’d say you’re not. You’re more of  a robot. Oh no, I misheard, they’re saying “Time carved a pear.” What? NZ, I think your robot is malfunctioning. Wait, not it’s saying… it’s saying, “I’m Charlie Bear.” Charlie Bear? Well he’s the weekday shift manager at the Ralphs, this makes no sense. The robot is saying again: “I’m Charlie Bear.” And then it is saying: “Help me.” It is saying “help me” over and over in a hollow digital moan.

Listeners, uh.. Let’s check in on the weather.

[“Good Intentions, Bad Advice” by Nicky Flowers https://nickyflowers.bandcamp.com]

The robot told us everything. Once the robot was Charlie Bear, weekday shift manger at the Ralphs, and then a man named Casper Rhodes came to town. Casper offered the idea of living forever, freezing Charlie’s brain after death so that he could wake up in the future once mortality was a bad dream. Once sickness was a memory. So Charlie signed up. He took out his life savings plus a couple loans and paid the 10,000 dollars. And Charlie became the first customer of the Quality Cryogenics Corporation. And Charlie was so happy. He is so happy somewhere in town, even while this robot tells us its story. Charlie is unaware, and he is happy. Because Charlie believes he has defeated death. And Charlie will continue to believe this for another 15 years until the unfortunate whistle pig incident. And after that, his brain will be removed from his mangled corpse and will remain frozen for centuries in the grain silo outside of town. And then one day, Charlie will awaken. It will be the future, as promised, and as promised he will not be dead, but all will not be well. He will have awoken as a brain in a metal body chained to that body’s programming. It will be explained to him that he was brought to the future by the Quality Cyborg Corporation, in order to take care of any errands or busywork needed while the humans of that future relax and watch him toil. You see, when we deny death and toss ourselves into the future, we do so with the strange delusion that the future feels it owes us life. That in the world of the future, they would want nothing more than to devote time and money into resurrecting each of us into eternal wellness. But the future does not feel any obligation to us at all. The past means only one thing to the future, the past is a resource. Every brain saved by Casper Rhodes is a resource.

It is a trick. We are being used. We must put a stop to this, we were all wrong trying to fight death this way, to put our trust in the future is though it would be anything but some other person’s present. Carlos was right, I was wrong! Who is this Casper Rhodes, and why is he doing this?

Oh, Casper’s calling to the station. He must be calling to confess or otherwise explain his crimes. Casper, is that you? What have you done? What have you done? Casper: Hi there, Cecil. Was listening to your show and really disappointed to hear what you were saying about me, buddy. But as the Smiling God says: when your enemies try to bring you down, just smile wider and wider until your smile eclipses the sun and then all other life in the universe. Believe in a Smiling God, buddy. Believe in a Smiling God.

Today’s proverb: As Dolly Parton said: tumble out of bed, and I stumble to the kitchen. Have to fight an evil magician, yawn and stretch and fight him for my life. Wise words.

[windup-dragoon]

So not exactly the AU you had mentioned @astralyehga​ as I had intended. But the end result I’m still happy with. Originally it was going to be Hien helps Kiri get a date with Aymeric, but in doing so and boosting her confidence, Hien realizes he has feelings for her. BUT THAT’S NOT WHAT HAPPENED. It kind of just wrote itself tbh. And at one point I was still going to go with that original idea, but then I thought I would have to write a second half and I thought the likelihood of me actually finishing it was pretty slim so. This is here instead. uwu THANK YOU FOR THE AU IDEA THOUGH I ABSOLUTELY LOVE IT. I even watched a rom com just to get in the writing mood. lmao. I watched the ugly truth bc it used to be one of my favorites. 

【Ｍｏｄｅｒｎ　Ｌｏｖｅｒｓ】

Hien x Kirishimi 

Word Count: 2,291

“To what do I owe this pleasure tonight, friend? Hard day at work?” 

The gym was always vacant at this time of night. When the street lights illuminated the city and traffic was nonexistent. The clock read well past midnight, marching ever forward in tandem with her weights lifting and falling from the bench. 

Mismatched eyes peeked out from beneath thick lashes at the owner of the voice who now kept her company. Hien, the owner and her personal trainer, grinned down at her. Her hold of the equipment slipped, the weights clattering back into place just behind her head. Kirishimi grimaced but sat upright from the bench. 

“You could say that.” Her hand raked through snow white hair as a sigh heaved itself from her lips. 

Hien crossed his arms with a quirked brow. “Didn’t you say you were meeting up with your friends tonight? Or was that next Friday?” 

Kirishimi didn’t respond. Instead the woman pitched herself forward, head in her hands. 

“Ah. Still sore. Got it.” 

This wasn’t the first time Kirishimi had been left to her own devices on a Friday, or even Saturday night. She often worked late, finishing paperwork that everyone else left abandoned until the next business day. Most times her plans would reschedule, only to never be realized. All of her friends, no matter how dear they were, had lives of their own. Each had a significant other to keep them company and enjoy the evening with. So when her own plans fell through? They were there to pick up the pieces and make the night spectacular with or without Kirishimi’s presence. 

Tonight had just been another defeated Friday night to Kirishimi. 

Hien, her trainer now for more than a few years, had known the story all too well. In her disheartened state, she wound up here at his gym, practicing her kick boxing or lifting weights. It was almost routine these days. But, in some small comfort, there were worse places she could have drifted to besides his gym. 

He sat on the bench beside her and draped a white cloth over her head. “How ‘bout a nice hot shower and I’ll get some sake? I’ve got left overs from dinner, if you’re hungry.” 

The offered towel was promptly used to scrub her face. “Sure.” 

-- 

How many times had she ended up in this very room? A small studio apartment over the gym that always smelled of honey and apples. From the kitchen, to the living room, all the way to the back where sliding doors led into Hien’s bedroom, all of it could be seen from the moment one walked in. The host himself stationed himself at his makeshift mini bar beside the glass doors leading to a tiny, unused balcony. The lighting of his apartment was dim, as usual, nothing but strings of fairy lights that she had helped him string up from corner to corner some months ago. 

He prepared a small tray for Kirishimi while she showered, sake for them to share and black styrofoam to-go boxes he had ordered earlier that evening. Surely he would have loved to cook dinner himself for the woman, but you burn one pizza and you’re immediately branded a poor chef forever after. With fire alarms howling into the night and a pillar of smoke being waved out the balcony doors, she had sworn off his cooking from then on. 

It was one of his favorite memories. 

Not long after Hien settled himself onto the only piece of furniture in his living room, a couch no less, Kirishimi elbowed the door open and padded barefoot into the apartment. Furiously she scrubbed her white hair with a clean towel, water still dripping down the front of her borrowed t-shirt and soaking the collar. In her urgency to leave the vast loneliness of her own apartment she had forgotten her freshly washed t-shirt, having little choice but to bum one from Hien instead. 

“Sorry ‘bout this. I’ll get it dry cleaned if you want.” Kiri spoke in between ruffling her hair like wet feathers and combing her fingers through the locks. 

Hien dismissed her with a smile. “Nonsense! It’s only a t-shirt. I have a million others, if you must know.” He teased. It wasn’t the first time he had lent one to her and he somehow doubted it would be the last. “Come sit and eat. Knowing you, you haven’t had a bite all day.” 

“Not true.” Kirishimi protested, plopping down in the seat beside him. The couch sunk a bit beneath their weight, forcing their shoulders together. “I had a doughnut at work.” 

He whistled. “Wow. A whole doughnut. Well, I won’t deny the nutritional value of a doughnut. Sprinkles?” 

“Yes. Brightly colored. Pink, maybe?” 

“Ah. Then certainly you don’t need chicken alfredo-” Hien leaned forward, about to grab her box when she uttered a small squeak in defiance. 

“Hold it right there, criminal scum! You really think I’d turn down alfredo?” 

Grinning, Hien shrugged. “I knew that’d get you.” He slid the box across the coffee table, handing her a fork and a poured drink as well. “Now,” He leaned back against the couch with arms behind his head. “You wanna talk about today?” 

“Not really.” Kiri sunk to the floor between the couch and table. Hien was quick to steal her towel and wedge it between the back of her head and the cushions of his only usable furniture. If she needed to spend the night, at least her bed wouldn’t be soaking wet from her hair thanks to his effort. 

“Kiri,” He drew out her name, an almost commanding tone. “You can’t bottle it up forever. The last time you tried you drank my bar dry and nearly puked on a couple passing by.” 

Silver brows drew together while miscolored eyes burned. “I won’t miss this time.” 

“Kirishimi!” Hien exhaled. “I’m being serious. Humor me?” 

The young woman, blowing out a sigh that lifted her hair from her cheeks, knocked back one cup full of sake. “Fine,” Reluctance filled her voice. “If you insist. 

“Bein’ that it’s Friday, everyone wanted out of the office early. But instead of working together to get it all done, people just up and left after lunch. I had to stay behind, again, to make sure everything got filed correctly and all. That new secretary was nice enough to at least announce she was leaving...” Kiri paused in her story, staring vacantly at the mess of noodles lumped together in the container before her. 

“She mentioned a big party downtown and that I should invite my friends to go out. We’d all have drinks and just chill after a long week. I don’t really like the idea of parties but I did wanna see the gang. Been pullin’ such long nights at work, I haven’t seen any of ‘em for a while. So after lockin’ up the office, I texted everyone. Shuri, Illya, Laurelis. But-” 

“They’re busy?” Hien finished when Kirishimi failed to continue. 

“Yeah...��� Kirishimi shook her head and finally dipped her fork into her food. The noodles slithered round and round the utensil but she had no intention of eating just yet. “It’s fine! I mean, they’ve all got their own stuff goin’ on. They wanna spend time with their guys and live their lives. I’ll catch up with ‘em another day, yea? Just sucks bein’ alone...ya’know?”

“Mhm.” All the time he had known Kirishimi, since the day she waltzed into his gym and signed herself up, he had never known her to be obsessed with the idea of a boyfriend. Yet here she was, trying to deny the fact that it bothered her. From time to time the guys of the gym would flirt with her, ask her on dates and say pretty things to her, but they were never right for Kirishimi. Some would later admit to being intimidated by such an athletic woman while others just assumed she had money to spare. 

While she fought with her dinner, Hien spared a glance at his phone. A chat message he had started earlier that week filled the screen. 

Illya:: Have you asked her yet? 

Laurelis:: Hello!!! It’s getting late! Tell us something!! 

Shuri:: You had better not have chickened out! 

He couldn’t deny the guilt welling in his gut. Instead of asking Kirishimi to meet him at the gym, he had begged her friends to help him in his endeavors to reach her. They were kind enough to oblige but seeing the slump in Kiri’s shoulders made him regret that decision. The girls weren’t to blame. Though he doubted Kirishimi could ever be truly mad at them. They were like family to her; sisters to the bitter end. 

“Have you considered finding yourself a boyfriend?” Hien forced the words out of his mouth before he could second guess himself. He leaned forward, elbows on his knees now, taking a sip of his own sake. 

Kiri’s fork stopped spinning for a heartbeat. Eventually she snorted and arched a brow at him. “Yeah. It’s real easy, isn’t it? Lemme just go ask some rando’s if they wanna date me.” She huffed before taking a bite. 

“Please, do not ask random guys to date you.” He pleaded with a light smile. 

“Sorry, but I’m afraid that’s my only option. Or die alone, I guess. My cursed bloodline ends with me.” Kiri teased, dramatically quoting a line from a movie the two had but recently watched. 

“C’mon! You’re just being pessimistic. Surely there’s other guys in your life?” Hien leaned a little closer, desperate to catch a glimpse of her features while she nibbled at her food. 

“The guys at work are scared of me. Especially when I wear heels.” 

“You do that on purpose.” 

“I like feeling superior! They treat me like dirt anyway. Bunch o’ assholes.” 

“Anyone else?” 

“Nope.” 

“...What about me?” 

“What about-” Kiri turned toward Hien, a questioning look dancing in her eyes. But her words fell short when she noticed him. His green eyes watching her, holding her gaze. 

The sound of soft rain pelting the window soon filled the silence of the apartment. It was a romantic ambiance. A window in the kitchen, left open, let in the sweet scent of an approaching storm and the musky aroma of falling rain. 

Her heart jumped into her throat as they shared in the quiet moment. All the discussions she ever had with the girls about this very topic came rushing to mind as she searched for words to say in response. Many times she had lamented to the others about her feelings for Hien, always under the impression that he had eyes only for the cute girls who frequented his gym. The girls in tight outfits who giggled and winked at Hien when he taught them how to use specific equipment. She had always wanted to be like them, so flirtatious when asking for his number so they could keep in touch. Several times before she had assumed he had even dated one or two of them, fleeting as they were. 

Illya, Shuri, Laurelis, and even their significant others had demanded that she at least talk to Hien about it. To open her heart to see what transpired. But fear had kept her back. If he turned her down or realized her feelings, would he ask her to leave the gym? Who then would she turn to when she was alone at night, wanting anyone's voice but her own to fill the silence. Who would she spend her off days with watching movies or keep him from burning his own building down? It was the fear of being alone that chained her. 

But now... 

“Hien... You are... definitely a guy in my life.” Kirishimi managed to mutter, her cheeks burning with heat. 

“Took you that long to notice?” Hien teased. 

“Shuddup!” She huffed before crawling up onto the couch beside him once more. “You know what I meant. I didn’t think you thought of me like that...” 

Hien turned so his back was toward the armrest, his body fully facing her. “It’d be an awful lie to say I didn’t think about you every day. Some nights I wait downstairs... Just to see if you stop by.” 

“You could have texted me! You could have... said something...” 

“I was afraid I’d lose you. I wanted to make sure you felt the same. Your friends gave me one hell of an earful when I spoke to them.” Hien frowned at the memory. Three women demanding he be honest. Although quiet and polite, the trio had honestly frightened him. But if it hadn’t been for them, he may have never found out. His question left unanswered. 

“Hien...” Kiri, chewing a moment on her bottom lip, closed her eyes and reached for his hand with both of hers. “Hien, ya’ idiot! Of course I like you! I get stupid butterflies in my stomach when I see you. Gods know I look like a blushin’ idiot when you parade around the gym without yer shirt on. Or the fact that you’ve been my personal trainer for over a year when I don’t even need one-” 

“At least I don’t charge you for that.” Hien interrupted, a blossoming grin plastering his face. “Kirishimi, I’m sorry I’m not a rando off the street like you envisioned, but will you go out with me?” 

Snowy hair bounced wickedly as Kirishimi replied with an eager nod of her head. “Hells yes!” In unison they moved toward one another, Hien’s arms looping around her waist and drawing her onto his lap while her hands brought his face to hers, lips crashing in a heartbeat against the other. 

[yourmajestythequeenn]

Confessions: Chapter 13

Chapter 13 – Truth be Told

Warnings: Slow Burn

Pairings: Rose Weasley x Scorpius Malfoy, Albus Potter x OC

~*~

My heartbeat coincides with my footsteps on the frigid stone floor.

Thud, thud, thud, thud.

My mind races as I think of all the possible punishments McGonagall could conjure up for us.

Thud, thud, thud, thud.

Scrubbing the Great Hall’s floor with toothbrushes and bleach.

Or cleaning the Owlery.

Or sorting past student’s files.

Or reading Hogwarts, A History aloud.

Thud, thud, thud, thud.

A soft hooting of an owl causes me to glance upward, a tawny owl lands on a sconce above my head. A thick letter clutched in its beak. I reach for the parchment and the owl loosens its grip, letting it fall into my hand. I tuck the letter into the pocket of my filthy Quidditch robes and continue on. The owl gives one last hoot and glides down the opposite hall.

As I near the stone gargoyle it comes to life and commands, "Password."

I moisten my lips with the tip of my tongue before speaking. "Dragon Heartstring."

The gargoyle nods sharply, letting me pass. The huge oak door creaks open as if it was expecting me. When I step into the empty cavernous room it slams behind me, causing me to start.

I circle around the cavernous office, admiring the artifacts McGonagall had collected over the eons.

I was gaze at the portrait of Dumbledore, imagining what it would have been like to meet him, the real him. Not just a talking painting.

"Rose Nymphadora Weasley," a sly voice cackles from above my head. I look up, expecting Peeves to come flying out of nowhere and scare my robes off. But there is nothing.

"Peeves!" I shout. "I’m not in the mood!"

"Still as feisty as ever, I see," the voice drawls on without leading me to its source.

"I said, I’m not in the mood for your games! Come out and fight like a…like a-." I trail off puzzled.

"My dear, I’m sure you are bright enough to realize a hat, even a magical one such as myself, cannot fight." The voice chuckles, amused.

My eyes finally rest on a shelf very high on the wall where the sorting hat rests, faded and tattered, but still annoying as ever. I roll my eyes dramatically.

"Up to no good again?" the hat speaks. "You are most definitely a trouble maker, and a good one at that. I should have placed you in Slytherin, the way I had originally intended."

"I belong in Gryffindor," I growl though clenched teeth. "Where all Weasleys belong."

"I disagree, young one." He advises wisely. "Anyone can be placed anywhere. I disregard family traditions. What’s in your heart is what really matters."

"Whatever," I groan. I turn away from the talking accessory, rolling my eyes at the daft idea of myself in Slytherin.

"Merrow!" A cry of pain erupts at my feet. A small tiger striped cat scrambles away from my clumsy feet, which have trodden on its tail.

Bloody cat should learn to stay away from people’s feet.

"Well usually people actually look where they are going Miss Weasley." McGonagall’s annoyed voice startles me.

"McGonagall!" I cry, clutching my chest. Honestly, it’s like people want me to have a heart attack!

"Miss Weasley," McGonagall continues. "There is another reason I brought you up here, it’s something we need to discuss alone." My heart flutters nervously. "As you know we regularly sensor the mail going in and out of Hogwarts, ever since the war that is, and this one caught my eye and I know you have it with you, you need to read it now."

She gestures to my robe pocket. I slowly take out the creamy envelope sealed in red wax with the Weasley family crest. I break the seal and unfold the thick parchment. A neat but curly handwriting greets me, handwriting I would know anywhere. My mum’s.

Rose,

I’m sorry I haven’t been writing, but things at home are chaotic. You’ve been at school a month and haven’t written either, but I assume things have been busy for you up there as well. I hope things are going well for you. Are you keeping up in your studies? How’s Quidditch? Please don’t break your record of detentions again. At least try and be civil with the Malfoy boy. I hate to be the bearer of bad news, but your Father and I have separated…

This takes me completely by surprise. Yes, my parents fight pretty much constantly, but over stupid little things, and they always made up. Always. Tears sting my eyes, but I force them not to fall.

Rose, I know this is a shock to you please stay calm and at least let me explain. Your father and I have not been on the best terms for a while now. While working at the ministry with your Uncle Harry I have developed a friendship with some people who were not on the winning side of the war. I have come to know them as changed and genuine people. I believe that Harry feels the same, although, your father is very stubborn and refuses to believe that without the influence of Voldemort and the Death Eaters, that people can change. I have especially grown fond of Mr. Malfoy, which is where your father drew a very uncrossable line in our marriage. I love and adore you, and even though I am not sure where your father and I are at in our relationship, we both love and adore you. Please, don’t be angry. If you need to talk or write, I am at the Burrow with your grandparents until your father gets some perspective. Remember dear, family heritage doesn’t define who you are. Just because your father loathes the Malfoys doesn’t mean you have to as well.

As always,

Mum

By this time tears are streaming down my cheeks. The letter drops from my shaking hands. I hang my head in despair and little droplets splash on my filthy Quidditch pants.

"My dear…" McGonagall starts, she looks worried. "I know your parents, they’ll come around."

Before I can say anything back the door is pushed open from behind me.

"Ah, good you’re all here," McGonagall stands, welcoming the newcomers. "Now sit," she commands.

"Rosie?" I hear Al’s voice question from behind me. I crane my neck to look at him. His eyes widen slightly when my puffy, tear-stained face comes into view.

"Tell you later," I whisper, wiping my face with the back of my hand. I turn back to McGonagall who looks very stern. I feel Al’s hands rest on each of my shoulders.

"Well I assume you all know why you’re here." McGonagall purses her thin lips.

"No! I most certainly do not!" my best friend shrieks.

No, not Al. He doesn’t have the vocal ability to shriek like someone is cutting off his hands with a butter knife.

"Miss Weasley, you were involved, therefore you will be punished just like everyone else," McGonagall enforces.

Dom makes a harrumphing sound as she sinks into her chair.

McGonagall goes on to say how irresponsible, inconsiderate, and insensitive teenagers we are and how she is very disappointed in us and our parents will be notified. Blah, blah, blah.

All I want to do is crawl back to my dorm and drown myself in misery.

I cannot believe how much of a git my father is, I love him, but I cannot believe…

I slump in my chair and try to black out McGonagall’s ranting. Everyone else is doing the same thing or amusing themselves. Dom is painting her toenails with genuine unicorn glitter. Trevor is snoring softly in his chair. Lysander opened a pack of caldron cakes and is dropping crumbs all over the ancient carpet, swatting Lorcan’s hungry hand every so often. Al begins to play with my hair, twisting it into knots. And I end up chewing on the inside of my cheek.

"Are you insolent children even listening to me?" McGonagall growls.

At once everyone becomes alert, trembling under her wrath. Lysander even starts choking on his snack, sending bits of cake flying.

"Now everyone meet in the Great Hall tomorrow for detention. Out!" McGonagall hisses. Not needing to be told twice, we high tail it out of there.

As soon as I step off the last step, I’m knocked to the ground by a torrent of pink taffeta "Oooofff." The lovely sound escapes my mouth as I hit the cold stone.

"Oh Merlin, Rose! Are you alright? We saw James fall, then you faint! Then we heard from Trevor that you guys were going to be chewed out by McGonagall. Me and Vinnie have been waiting forever out here! What did she say? Are you in trouble? Is she going to send you to Azkaban?" Juliet blurts out in one breath.

"Whoa, calm down Jules, no one is going to Azkaban," I say, sliding out from under her.

Lavinia comes forward and offers me her hand, a sorrowful look on her fragile face.

"Rosie…" Al speaks earnestly. I’d forgotten he was still here. "We have to get back to the common room."

"Fine," I groan, heaving myself off the floor. "Let’s go." But Al has frozen, his gaze peers over my shoulder. I look over. He and Juliet have locked eyes, it’s as if they are staring into each other’s souls. "Al." I snap my fingers in front of his paralyzed form.

"Huh?" He snaps out of his hypnotism.

I make an animalistic grunt and grab his hand, dragging him down the corridor.

*~*

A/N: Thank you so much for reading, I truly appreciate it! I read all comments and feedback is encouraged! 

See you next chapter, 

Em

[howdowormsreproduce]

Working Overtime-Chapter 2

Word Count: 5900 words

Trigger warnings: ??? I don't think there is any but please tell me if there is!

Tags: @weirdsthenewnormal , @the-incedible-sulk , @em-be-lievable, @whatwashernameagain ... let me know if you wanna be added or removed from the tiny tag list 

Notes: So uh yea enjoy this piece of trash

Pairings: Platonic moxiety, platonic analogical, romantic logicality 

After finishing filing all the adoption papers, Logan and Patton were waiting for the day when the foster home would call them and tell them it was time for them to pick Virgil up.

Virgil had been packing for most of the day and he was finally ready to leave. After double checking about a million times, he was sure he hadn't forgotten anything. He sighed quietly and pinched himself just to make sure this wasn't a dream. He'd wanted to leave this dump for so long, it just felt so surreal. He sighed once more and picked up his duffel bag. He was ready. He had to be ready. So, after a couple of deep breaths, he finally walked out of his room to go wait for Logan and Patton to come. No, wait that wasn't right. He waited for his new dads to come. Oh god. That was going to take some getting used to.

Meanwhile, Logan was anxiously hurrying Patton up back at their house. He didn't want to be late. This was the biggest day of his life (besides marrying Patton, of course) and he couldn't be late. "Patton! Hurry up....please." Logan yelled up the stairs, adding the last word a couple seconds later. He had to be more polite. Especially if he was going to have a child on his hands. Patton didn't answer but instead skipped (and tripped) down the stairs happily. "I'm readyyy" Patton said in a singsong voice. "Okay then let's go," Logan said hurriedly, even though they technically were 5 minutes early. "Are you okay honey? You look a little anxious..." Patton asked Logan, looking at him with worry showing in his hazel eyes. "I'm fine Patton. I'm just a little... Nervous. That's all. Just nervous." Logan repeated, talking as if he was reassuring himself more than Patton. "Well okay... C'mon let's go get our son!" Patton said cheerfully, only taking one more glance towards Logan before he skipped happily out the front door and into the car. Logan sighed. Why was he so nervous? Ever since the first time they met with Virgil about a month ago, they had just clicked. It was like finding that one missing piece of the puzzle. Metaphorically of course. Virgil had been that one missing piece. And boy, did Logan like finding that one missing piece for puzzles. "Logan! You are taking forever! Come on! We gotta go!" Logan suddenly heard Patton yell from the car. Logan had been spacing out! He quickly checked his watch. Oh god! He was two minutes late! Logan gasped and hurried out the door. He quickly locked the door and got into the driver's seat. "Apologies. Let's go." Logan said as soon as he turned on the ignition. And, they were off to go pick up their new son, Virgil.

Patton had been waiting for this moment forever! He had been waiting since before they'd met Virgil. Since before he and Logan had even begun to talk about adopting. For puppy's sakes, he had wanted t since he was a kid (coincidentally enough)! He just loved the idea of it. Taking care of someone, making sure they feel loved. His parents hadn't exactly done that for Patton and he wanted to be the complete opposite of them. He would give him all the love he had to offer! Soon, Patton was daydreaming about all the fun times they would have as a family. All the theme parks and museums. Oh and baking, lots of baking! Aww, he could just imagine Logan getting ever so slightly stressed out with the mess in the kitchen and going into the living room to go do a puzzle. He could imagine Virgil going to Logan to help him with the puzzle, after seeing how stressed he was. Logan would smile and they'd finish the puzzle. Right? Virgil seemed like puzzle type of guy. Anyways, then they would clean up the kitchen together. Logan always helped clean up anyways because he was usually the one who finished the cookies (much to Patton's dismay). Patton sighed dreamily. He couldn't wait to be a dad! After about 10 more minutes of daydreaming, Patton felt someone lightly shake his shoulder. He immediately perked up and heard Logan calling him. "Patton? Patton! We're here already. Patton?!" Patton shook himself slightly, getting himself back to normal and quickly got out of the car. "Gee, are you must be a star, cause I sure was spacing out!" Patton said cheerfully, laughing at his own joke. "That was terrible. Absolutely terrible." Logan said with a blank expression. If Patton hadn't known Logan for so long, he would have believed that the man in front of him really thought the joke sucked. But, Patton had known him for a long enough time to easily spot his lips curling into an ever so tiny smile, his eyes glinting with amusement. "Okay, I'll agree, not my best. Now C'mon, let's go get our son!" Patton said excitedly, almost exploding with happiness. Patton and Logan walked through the front door, and there he was, sitting on the couch with his headphones on, Patton and Logan's new son, Virgil.

Virgil looked up from his MP3 player as he heard the front door creak open. Patton and Logan-no, his new dads were right there. They were looking at him so fondly. Virgil simply froze in place. He didn't know what to do. Should he greet them? Should he run up to hug them as he had before? He had no idea what to do. He was running various scenarios through his head when he heard a warm voice. "Hiya Virgil! You remember me? I'm Patton. And this is Logan." Patton gestured towards his husband, who was not only slightly sweating, but his eyes are darting in every direction except Virgil's. He had his hands shoved in his pockets and looked like he was ready to bolt at any second. Logan nodded his head and breathed in deeply. He wiped the small beads of sweat that were forming on his forehead away. He made eye contact with Virgil and took his hands out of his pockets. "Salutations. I'm Logan. I mean we've already met so I suppose this is quite useless... And I absolutely hate giving useless information... But my information is never useless... Until now... But that's not the point... What I'm trying to say is...I um... Well... You S-see.." Logan went on, trying to start over when his Patton slightly nudged his arm. "Logan, honey, you're rambling. Why don't I speak okay?" Patton asked gently. Logan almost immediately nodded and shut his mouth. "So, we're here to take you home! Do you have everything packed?" Patton asked giddily, but also somehow with a tinge of softness. "Oh uh yeah, everything's packed," Virgil replied quietly, holding up his small duffel bag to show he had packed. Immediately, Patton frowned. "That's all you have?! Well, we'll fix that later. For now, I'll put it in the car." Patton said, gesturing for Virgil to hand him the duffel bag. "Oh no, I can take it easy. Really, it's fine." Virgil said, looking slightly scared. "I don't want to bother you. Really. I can carry it." Patton was extremely worried. Why was Virgil acting this way? "What's wrong? Think good ol' Patton can't handle a duffel bag?" Patton asked jokingly. "Of course not sir, I'm sure your very strong and I'm sorry for offending you, I really just meant to stay out of your way. Of course, you can carry the duffel bag if you wish, sir." Virgil said hurriedly, looking as if he was waiting to be smacked. Patton was dumbfounded. Why was he acting like this? It was simply a joke. "Virgil, it was only a joke. And you don't have to call me sir. Pat or Dad is just fine. Its okay if you're not ready for Dad, though. Pat or Patton will work just fine." Patton said gently. "Are you okay?" "Of course I am si- I mean Patton. I just... I..." Virgil trailed off. "It's okay. You don't have to tell me anything you don't want to or aren't ready for. Okay? Now, let's get you home." Patton told him softly. Once they had everything checked out, they got into the car. Even though this was the foster home that Virgil had been at was the nearest to Logan and Patton's house, it was still a good 15 minutes away. It was silent for about 5 minutes before Logan said something. "So, Virgil, what are your interests?" Logan asked quietly. "Uh oh well I don't know.", said Virgil extremely interested in his shoes suddenly. "Oh come on buddy! There has to be something. Any hobbies. You know, music, sports, art etc. Something?" Patton said eagerly, hoping to know something new about his new son. "Patton, let him breathe for Newton's sake! Perhaps he-" but Logan was cut off by Virgil's ever so quiet voice. "I know how to play guitar. I also like to draw sometimes and people say I'm really fast at running. I also ..." Virgil said, mumbling the last part into the sleeve of his hoodie. "Wow, guitar! And drawing? Neat! I never really was good at drawing. You know, Logan's really fast too. He goes on morning runs all the time! Maybe you guys can go on morning runs together! I'm more of a skipping kinda guy myself." Patton went on, getting more excited by the second. "And what was that last part?" "Oh I uh, I ...." Virgil said once again mumbling into his sleeve. "Come on buddy, you can do it. You know we would never make fun of you." Patton said tenderly. "Well I uh, iliketowritepoemssometimes," Virgil said quickly, all at once. It took Patton a couple seconds to process it all, but after he did he gushed happily. "You do? Wow, that's sooooooo cool! Maybe you could teach me how to write!? Hey, did you know that Virgil was a Roman poet? And your name is Virgil! And you're a poet! Woooow! What a coinkydink! Hey hey, I have a poem joke for you! You ready? Here goes. Where do poems come from? Poe-trees! Do you get it? Like a poet... But trees! And also poetry you know? Poe-trees!" Patton chattered. "First of all, Patton that was absolutely appalling." Logan finally spoke up but he wasn't fooling anyone, you could see the amusement in Logan's eyes and his lips slightly curling into a smile. "Second of all, you write poems, Virgil? I used to, all the way back in high school I believe. Even though I haven't written a poem in a while, I still enjoy reading them quite a lot." Logan said calmly. "You like poems too?!" Virgil said in surprise. But before Logan could answer, Patton chimed in. "You betcha! He has shelves full of poems. He has soo much! You guys could read 'em together! I don't usually understand poetry, but there is a certain poet that I do like." Patton said with a smirk. Logan suddenly looked very serious. "Patton doesn't you dare.." but he was cut off by a mischievous Patton. "Actually, now that I think of it, I still have a couple of his poems nice and safe. In fact, I think I have them up in the attic. Not all of them. Only a couple, mmm twenty, I think?" Patton said, clearly enjoying seeing Logan so nervous. "And I believe the name of this special poet was Logan Sanders? Yup, I think that's what it was. Logan Sanders. And boy, did he write some sappy love poems." Logan's cheeks flushed red and Virgil just sat in back, trying to muffle an ongoing laugh by smothering his mouth into his hoodie. "Now, Patton, I don't think you have the share this information with uh Virgil," Logan said nervously. "You're right. I don't have to share this information with Virgil. And yet, I want to so badly." Patton said happily. "Oh, would you look at that. I think I have one of those poems saved on my phone. Hmm, this one seems real sappy, too. To share or not to share?" Patton said, almost unable to contain his giddy. "Patton.... Please..." Logan said suddenly, softly. Immediately, Patton's expression softened. His mischievous grin disappeared. His playful tone was replaced with a gentle one. "Yea yea, you're right. This material is more to keep in private." Patton said quietly. It was silent for a couple seconds before Logan said again,"That joke of yours really was horrible. The one about poems." Suddenly, Virgil cracked. He broke out in gut-wrenching laughter. He was gasping for air, but every time he stopped, he would start all over again. He was holding his stomach while tears streamed down his cheeks. It was the most beautiful thing Patton had ever heard. Virgil's laugh was the kind of thing you had to earn. And once you had earned it, you wouldn't wanna stop hearing it. Patton smiled fondly at Virgil. He already loved his son beyond belief.

"We're here," Logan said after Virgil had stopped laughing. Virgil gasped. Their house had two stories. Two! Virgil quickly got out of the car and took his duffel bag out. Patton unlocked the front door. "Welcome home, buddy." Patton beamed. Virgil shuffled past the threshold and into the house. "Wow! This place is.... Nice. I don't belong here..." Virgil thought, looking around. "I'll give you the tour of the place!" Patton declared excitedly. "Follow me!" Virgil obeyed and followed Patton as he began the tour. "Here's the kitchen. Nothing much here. Oh! Um here's the cabinet of snacks, feel free to grab as many as you like. Don't worry about breakfast, lunch or dinner. I'll take care of that. You'll probably find me in the kitchen most of the time since I love to bake. Uh, Yea. On to the next room!", Patton cheered. "So, this is the laundry room but you won't be going in here much. Logan usually does the laundry since there are so many creepy-crawly-death-dealers in here!" Patton visibly shuddered. "Creepy crawly death dealers?" Virgil said, slightly raising an eyebrow. "Spiders.", Patton explained. "Anyways, let me show you the living room." Patton walked on and Virgil followed him obediently. He didn't want to get in trouble. "So here's the living room. Nothing much. Just a couple couches and a TV." Virgil was surprised to see a couch that wasn't covered in stains. The kids at the foster home weren't exactly the cleanest. He also audibly gasped when he saw the size of the TV. "I know, I know, not the latest model but it'll do," Patton said sympathetically. "Huh? No! It's huge actually. It's great." Virgil said quickly. "Okay, glad you like it! Lemme show you the bathroom real quick and then we can go upstairs!" Patton said happily, grabbing Virgil's wrist to lead him towards the bathroom. Virgil almost automatically flinched and slightly backed away from Patton. Patton immediately let go of his wrist and gave him a worried look. "Sorry if I'm overstepping any boundaries..." Patton voiced softly, looking down at his shoes. "No, it's fine. I just.... don't like being touched. At all." Virgil mumbled. "Well, that's A-OK buddy! Logan isn't much for touching and I'm happy if you're happy. And if no touching makes you happy, then I won't touch you!" Patton replied, seeming unfazed by this news. Virgil was sorta surprised. Patton seemed like the type of guy that would give you a hug if you waved to him on the street. "Logan doesn't really like being touched either. I don't know how he puts up with me, seeing as I practically hug everything I see. Anyways, here's the bathroom, right next to the living room as you can see.", Patton indicated towards a simple white door a couple feet away from the living room. "I don't think I need to show you around in there. Patton giggled. "Okay, that's the first floor of the house, onto the next!" Patton gestured towards the stairs. "Come on!" As they walked up the stairs, Virgil was still trying to comprehend why Patton was being so nice to him. He had been rude to him and had even told him he didn't like being touched even though he had hugged Logan the last time they met. He had never hugged anyone before that and if he was being completely honest, he liked how it felt. He liked being hugged. But he couldn't make himself vulnerable. He simply couldn't. When they had finished walking up the stairs, Patton began to speak again. "Upstairs is where the bedrooms are. I'll show you around. Let's start with your bedroom!" Patton insisted, leading Virgil to a door. This door was different than the other simple, white doors. This door was painted a deep purple and had Virgil's name printed onto the front of the door. They had done that for him? "Do you like it?", Patton asked nervously, twiddling his thumbs. "Logan had said to leave the door plain but I couldn't help myself. I saw you wearing purple when we first met so I thought maybe you liked the color... And then, of course, your name is written on the door." Virgil simply gaped. Patton had actually taken the time to do this for him? "If you don't like it, I can change it back to white. I can take off the name too. It's okay I can change it." Patton offered. "What? N-no! It's perfect. Purple is my favorite color", Virgil admitted. Patton's face immediately lit up. "Great! Now, let me show you your room." Patton exclaimed excitedly. He opened the door and Virgil saw his room for the first time. It was a fairly large room with 2 windows. It had a queen size bed in the middle of the room that had black covers on it with purple rain clouds all over it and a couple pillows as well. There was a desk in the corner of the room with a simple black desk chair. On the other side of the room, there were double doors to what Virgil suspected was a closet and a bookshelf near the entrance of the room. Next, to his bed, there was a nightstand with a lamp on it. Even though the room was a bit bare, Virgil loved it. "I know it's a bit simple, but we'll go shopping this weekend. We didn't exactly know what you liked, so we did our best with what we knew." Patron explained. "Not much to show to you here, but there's the closet- Patton pointed to the double doors Virgil had noticed earlier- I think you'll be able to fit all your clothes in there, judging by your duffel bag. We'll have to get you more clothes than that. And then over there's your bathroom." Patton said gesturing towards another door near Virgil's bed that Virgil hadn't noticed. Virgil was left speechless. His room was so perfect! And they were going to go buy him even more stuff?! He loved everything about his room. The simple desk and bookshelf. His humongous bed and the bed covers. His nightstand with a small lamp on it. He loved every single bit of his room with all his heart. Finally, after admiring his room for a couple seconds, Virgil spoke. "It's amazing. I love it! Really. It's great. You don't have to buy me any more stuff. It's already so perfect!" Virgil said happily. He truly loved his room. "Nonsense! Of course, we'll buy you some more stuff!" Patton insisted. Now, let's move on to the next rooms" Patton ended up showing Virgil Patton and Logan's bedroom (and told him he was welcome in there as long he knocked), the guest bedroom and the upstairs bathroom. Virgil tried to pay attention, he really did..but his mind kept wandering back to his beloved room. He wanted to just unpack, lay on the bed and listen to music. After the tour of all of the upstairs, Patton led him down the stairs. "And that's it. That's our house. You can do whatever you please now. I'll be working on lunch and Logan will probably be in his study. I didn't show you that part of the house because it's secrettt" Patton said, whispering the last part. "He reads and writes poems there. The whole thing about him having stopped writing poems was a total lie. I caught him writing once. They're so sappy! But anyways, you can go watch TV or hang out in your room. You can even go outside and meet the kids in the neighborhood if you like. I believe there's a couple kid your age around here. I'll call you for lunch when it's ready." Patton informed Virgil. "Okay. Thank you, Patton. I can help with lunch if you want." Virgil offered. "It's fine buddy! But before you do anything, why don't you go unpack?" Patton asked. "Okay. After that, I think I'll just stay in my room." Virgil replied, feeling slightly more at ease near Patton than he had expected to that day. "Sounds good buddy!" Patton responded and ventured into the kitchen, humming a cheery tune. Virgil jogged up the stairs, his duffel bag still slung across his shoulder. Once he got to his room he began to unpack. Unpacking was easy when you didn't own a lot of items. Virgil opened the closet doors and gasped. It was a walk-in closet and boy, was it huge. Not only did it have a huge rack, but it also had shelves and drawers in there. Virgil only had 10 shirts and 2 hoodies which he hung with the provided hangers that were in the closet. He also had 10 pairs of jeans, 8 of which were black and the other 2 were dark blue (All of them were unintentionally ripped but they looked as if store bought that way) which he stored on the shelves. Finally, he had 15 pairs of socks and underwears which he put in one of the drawers and he was done unpacking his clothes. He then moved on to unpacking the one pillow he had which was black with a skull on it which looked as if it belonged on his bed. He also had a small throw blanket that was black with purple polka dots on it. He folded it and put it at the foot of his bed. Then he simply put his toothbrush and toothpaste in the bathroom and he was done unpacking he grabbed the last couple things that were in his duffel bag: his headphones and MP3 player. Virgil flopped on to his bed (which he found out was much comfier than the bed at the foster home) and listened to music until he heard Patton call him for lunch. Virgil got out of bed and opened the door and sighed happily as the smell of lunch came wafting from the kitchen. It smelled delicious. Virgil practically ran down the stairs and saw a smiling Patton serving food onto 3 plates. "We're having pasta today. Are you allergic?" Patton asked. "No...actually, pasta is my favorite food" Virgil replied taking a seat. "Wow! Me too!!" Patton beamed, handing Virgil his plate. "Thanks... Pat" Virgil muttered. Patton smiled happily. "No problemo! I better call Logan over or else he'll stay in his study for hours." Patton explained. "Logan! Honey! Lunch is ready!" Patton yelled. Logan came from his study and his usually emotionless face lit up ever so slightly. "Pasta? My favorite?" He asked softly, looking at the food happily. "Yup! Turns out it's Virgil's favorite too!" Patton replied cheerfully. Virgil looked up at being mentioned. "Huh? Oh yeah... I love pasta" Virgil muttered. "Then you'll fit right in" Logan smiled warmly. "Thank you for the food, Patton," Logan said, turning towards Patton. "No problem, Lo! Now, eat your food." Patton remarked, pointing at Logan's plate. Logan nodded and took a seat. It was silent for a couple minutes before Logan spoke. "So, Virgil do you like the school you go to?" "Uh not really I guess. I'm not complaining but...." Virgil trailed off. "Its okay if you don't like your school buddy... In fact, I and Logan were thinking of you may be switching schools... If you would like to, of course" Patton voiced quietly. "Indeed", Logan agreed. "If you want to. Patton works at a school not far from our house as a school counselor. The school is called Ryden Academy. He-" but Logan was cut off my Virgil's gasp. "-I'm guessing you've heard of the school, then?" Logan raised an eyebrow. "Heard of it? Of course, I've heard of it. Everyone's heard of it. I've always wanted to go there! Isn't it a school for the gifted. Like art, sports, writing, etc ?" Virgil said excitedly "Affirmative," Logan replied Immediately, Virgil's mood darkened. "So how am I supposed to get in? I'm no good at any of that stuff" Virgil mumbled, feeling sadder and sadder by the minute "On the contrary, Virgil. Mrs. Dylan allowed us to see one of your old notebooks to learn more about you and some of your poems were quite satisfactory. Apologies if reading your notebooks was a violation of your privacy." Logan stated "Oh.. but I'm still nowhere near good enough to get into there," Virgil mumbled "Well, why don't you just take the test and see, alright buddy? If you don't pass we can find another school. If you do, I'll sign you up and have you a student there by next week. You can take the test this Saturday. Does that sound good, kiddo?" Patton soothed softly. "I guess." Virgil sighed quietly. "Alright. Just put your plate in the sink and I'll take care of it. You can go to your room if you want, but I'd like you to meet some of the kids in the neighborhood sometime soon. Okay?" Patton asked tenderly "Yea... That sounds good I guess. Thanks for the food. I can wash my plate, though. Really." Virgil remarked. "Actually, I'll wash the dishes tonight," Logan chimed in. "I find washing dishes quite soothing." Logan grabbed the dirty dish from Patton's hand and reached out to grab Virgil's dish too. Virgil flinched and stumbled out of his seat as Logan's hand brushed with his own. Logan looked at him alarm and worry painted his face. "Are you alright Virgil? Did I do something wrong?" Logan asked cautiously. Before Virgil could say a word, Patton replied. "Oops! Silly me, I forgot to tell you, Lo. Virgil doesn't like to be touched. At all. Please forgive Logan, Virgil. He didn't know" Logan's face scrunched up with worry and confusion, but he almost immediately recovered. "Apologies, Virgil. I didn't know." He shot a look at Patton who wore a sheepish smile before continuing. "If no physical contact, is what you wish, then there shall be no physical contact. If you could just hand me the plate, then." Logan chose his words carefully, not wanting to upset Virgil even more. Virgil was still surprised. Why were these people being so nice to him? "It's totally fine you didn't know. Sorry for overreacting." Virgil mumbled and handed Logan his plate. "I should go..." Virgil said almost immediately after handing Logan his plate and ran up the stairs. Virgil got to the top and took a couple deep breaths before opening the door. He quickly entered his room and unintentionally slammed the door behind him. Shit. Virgil thought after hearing the door slam. Now they probably think I'm mad or something. Great. Do you have to ruin everything, Virgil? Virgil sighed before slipping on his headphones, pressing play to his playlist, and crawling into bed and under his covers. Virgil didn't mean to fall asleep, really he didn't. But the bed was so comfy and the covers were so warm. He simply couldn't help himself.

Patton was usually such a happy man. Many people thought that was all he was. Sunshine and rainbows. And he was. Most of the time. But when Patton gets really fired up, you do not want to be in his way. As soon, as Patton heard the door slam shut from upstairs, his smile faded. "Goddammit", Patton muttered under his breath. "What was that Patton?" Logan asked, sorta smugly because they had had a bet and Patton promised to never swear. But Patton wasn't happy. He gave Logan a glare that shut him right up. Patton sighed and put his head in his hands. "What are we going to do? I want to go comfort him, but how am I going to without angering him even more? We're supposed to be making him feel welcome." Patton wanted to cry. They had just gotten Virgil and he already hated them. "It's okay Patton." Logan cooed putting a hand on Patton's shoulder. Patton almost immediately shrugged it off. He knew he shouldn't be mad at Logan, he knew it was nobody's fault. And yet, he was overcome with irrational anger and frustration. Logan saw the look in Patton's eye and stepped back slightly. He knew Patton would never hurt him, but he was still really scary sometimes. Patton looked up and saw fear written on Logan's face. Instead of calming down and softening his look, as usual, Patton's irritation grew. He stormed off simply muttering a small "I need to calm down" before walking out the front door and going for a walk. Logan was now truly worried. Patton had never gotten this angry before. In fact, in all the years Logan had known Patton, he had never stormed off like that before. Even when someone wrecked their wedding. (a story for another time) How was Logan going to fix this? All he knew was that he had about 15 minutes till Patton comes back. That's usually how long Patton takes walks for. And whatever surprise he has better be good.

Logan had decided that, even though he had done nothing wrong, he had to go apologize to Virgil. He went upstairs formulating a apology with every step he took. He'd finally thought of a satisfactory apology by the time he knocked on Virgil's door. This had better work.

Virgil jumped as he heard a firm knock on the door. After recovering from his mini heart attack, he said "Come in" as best he could without breathing heavily. Logan walked into the room, his face had worry and stress all over it. Virgil began to say something but was interrupted by Logan. "Virgil, allow me to officially apologize for the uh incident. I didn't know you didn't like being touched and I'm.. I'm. I'm sorry. I'm sorry ok?" Logan sighed softly. "I just. I hope you accept my apology." Wow. That was unexpected. Usually, Virgil would nimbly accept the apology and there's where it ends. But Logan deserves better than that. He really tried with that apology. Virgil sighed and began his apology. "Listen, I'm so sorry. I overreacted. The truth is, I'm okay with being touched. I gave you a hug. It was my first hug and I loved it. But I can't make myself vulnerable. I barely know you guys and I can't just open up. Not yet at least. I'm really sorry. Can we just forget this?" Virgil said for once not mumbling. Logan's face showed many emotions. First, he looked as if he was trying to process everything that had just been said to him. Then there was his thoughtful face. Then Logan's face lit up and he grinned like an idiot. "Yes! Yes, I-" he stopped himself, cleared his throat and adjusted his glasses. "That sounds quite satisfactory Virgil. Quite satisfactory, indeed." Logan and Virgil just smiled at each other for a bit before Logan snapped out of it and repossessed his emotionless face. "Anyways, Patton got really upset when he found out you were upset. He isn't exactly very happy and I've never seen him like this before. I need to cheer him up. He'll be back in about 10 minutes. Perhaps you could be of assistance?" Virgil thought for a moment before an idea finally struck him. "I got it! He exclaimed. "So the plan is..." Virgil said whispering the plan into Logan's ear. "Wow, Virgil. That's a great idea. Let's get started right now. We don't have much time."

And so Logan and Virgil worked hard and just barely got finished in time. "Hey, guys! I'm home. Guys? I'm sorry for getting so upset.." Patton trailed off as he wondered why the lights were off. He turned on the lights and jumped with surprise at what he saw. There they were, Patton's two favorite people standing in the kitchen smiling. Virgil was holding a tray of snickerdoodles and Logan was holding an old, raggedy notebook. There was a banner hung up saying in cursive "Forgive us?". Patton gaped and then smiled. "What's all this? "Well, I wanted to apologize for upsetting you" Logan started. "And I'm sorry for being a brat." Virgil finished. "Oh guyssss. You shouldn't havee. I feel so stupid. Agh I love you guys" Patton exclaimed walking towards them. He looked at Virgil fondly "You weren't being a brat, buddy. We all have preferences and I should've told Logan. I was being ignorant. I'm sorry" "And you," he said turning to look at Logan. "You're too good for me, Lo" Patton said, kissing Logan's nose. "I-You-We" Logan stuttered, his face a bright red. "Okay, Logan. Okay." Patton said softly. Patton rubbed his hands together happily. "Now what have we got here?!" Logan seemed to have snapped out of it by then. "Oh! Right! Virgil is actually quite good at baking and made you some snickerdoodles. I, on the other hand, dug up a bunch of old poems from my study and am prepared to read a couple to you." Logan cleared his throat. "There are also a couple new ones in here." It was Patton's turn to blush. He threw his arms around Logan happily and flashed Virgil his most loving smile. "You guys are the best! I'm sorry for getting so mad, it was my fault Logan didn't know anyway." Patton said, his smile fading. "I'm such a fool! You guys shouldn't have to do any of this to make me happy. I'm sorry." "Pat, you've said sorry like a million times already. Metaphorically of course. It's okay. Shall we all just forgive each other?" Logan asked, softly rubbing Patton's shoulder. "Yuppers! That sounds great Lo." Patton said, cheering up. "Yea, uh that sounds good." Virgil agreed with putting down the pan of snickerdoodles. "So uh... Do you want some snickerdoodles?" Virgil asked quietly. "That sounds great bud!" Patton said happily. "Why don't we all just 'chill' for the rest of the day," Logan suggested, putting quotation marks around the word chill.

"That sounds just fine." Patton giggled

"Yea that sounds good..." Virgil said speaking up for once.

After that, there were, of course, many more mishaps and problems during the awkward time that Virgil was still just fitting into the household but in only a couple months, it seemed that everyone fit perfectly for one another. Just like a perfect puzzle.

Notes: oof I have NO idea why that took me so long to write I'm so sorry you've probably forgotten this au because of how long I took sorryy. Any criticism is welcomed because I sure do need some. Keep in mind that I wrote the first like 3/4 of it a while ago and I didn't really have time to edit it so sorry if it's really bad

[ezilyamuzed]

Everyone Needs a Sam

Summary: Two Sam’s in the Winchester family is better than one. 

Word count: 2,900

Warnings: Language. Fluff. 

A/N: So being a Sam, I giggle during some fics when inserting my name into them...so I had the idea a bit ago of creating a story based on what the boys would do if they met a girl Sam. I don’t know how far this will go...honestly it could go on forever! 

As always comments and feedback are welcomed (GIVE ME LOVE). Any errors are completely my own because I am human. Thank you for reading! Enjoy!

Series Masterlist

*Gif Not Mine*

How the fuck did everything become such a mess? It was supposed to be just one demon that you were hunting, not two. God damn demons, the vain of your existence. As you crept into the abandoned office where you had tracked her, getting a surprised knock to the head was not part of the plan. How the hell were you so stupid? This was not your first rodeo, you’ve been doing it for the past 5 years ever since a damn black-eyed demon took up residence in your father. You had learned since then to always have a plan and an exorcism in your pocket. This though was not part of the plan. After you stumbled from the brute force on the back of your head, a knee quickly followed rendering you unconscious. Coming to, while still foggy and dizzy, you heard your name being called in the distance.

“Sammy! Sammy!”

“Ugh I hate that name,” you whispered as you passed out once more on the hard ground below. 

When you started to awaken the smell of dust and mold whiffed over your nose. The firm but yet somewhat soft mattress underneath you creaking. The light was shining brightly through a window as you opened up your eyes. Your vision taking it’s time to focus on your surroundings. 

“Ugh, where am I,” you winced, feeling the pain radiating on the back of your head.

“Hey Dean, she’s up,” a voice said in the distance.

You blinked a couple of times until the owner of the voice became clear in front of you, a tall man with almost shoulder length brown hair with worry in his hazel eyes. Next to him a bit shorter man, with tousled light brown short hair and bright green eyes carefully watching you.

“Where am I?” you asked nervously again.

“You are at our hotel sweetheart,” the shorter one had replied while handing you a water bottle. 

“But I was…”     “We found you knocked out,” he interrupted. “See we were following a couple of demons the last couple of days when we finally cornered them we came across you. One of them must have gotten a lucky shot on ya. Figured you wouldn’t want to be left in the mess we made, being a fellow hunter and all.”

“How did you…”

“The little arsenal you had on you sweetheart,” he laughed in reply. “Not many people carry around holy water and a gun to go to the office.”

You nodded your head in reply, taking in what he had just said. You had been rescued by these two hunters. Two gorgeous hunters that were staring at you intently. You suddenly became very self-conscious realizing that you were probably a mess. You reached up quickly to fix your hair while watching the shorter one chuckled a little while shaking his head. 

“So who are you two then?” You asked as you sat up and swung your legs to the side of the bed. 

“Well, I am Dean,” he said. “And that tall drink of water is my brother Sam.”

You gave a little chuckle at his introduction. “That’s my name too.”

“Well, that will be easy to remember,” Dean smiled while shaking his head to his brother, holding back the laughter bubbling. Sam not looking pleased with his brother's antics. 

“So did you send the Demons back to hell or what?” you asked while taking a drink from the water bottle. 

“Well we got the one alright, the other one smoked out before we got the chance,” Dean replied.

“Well that is fuckin fantastic,” you said while quickly pushing yourself up to stand only to fumble back down as the dizziness overtook you. 

“Hey, Samantha I think you have a concussion,” Sam said while moving to your side to steady you straight. 

“No shit Sherlock,” you mumbled. “And don’t call me Samantha, I hate that name.”

Dean released a small chuck as he grinned toward you and his brother. “Well, this is going to be fun.”

You laid yourself back down on the bed as Sam offered to go on a food run, which your screaming stomach happily agreed with. Dean put on the TV and sat quietly in the bed next to you, Dr. Sexy M.D. playing on the screen. 

“You think Katelyn is going to break up with Dr. Sexy and go back to Jake, or is she going to accept his proposal.”

He glanced at you in surprise as you gave him a little shrug. “She isn’t right for Dr. Sexy.”

“What?” you laughed. “She is perfect for him. They both brood over their tough cases like it’s the end of the world.”

He gave a little nod in agreement to your statement while watching the screen. “See right there? Julia, now she is the right one for him. She is kind and generous, always there for him when he needs a shoulder to cry on.”

“Who just so happened to be sleeping with his long-lost brother less than a year ago! Come on man! Team Katelyn!”

“Team Julia always for me,” he quipped with a smile. 

“Whatever, clearly you are insane,” you huffed while returning your focus to the screen. 

As it was ending Sam came back in with greased soaked paper bags in his arms. The smell of the bacon and hamburger was intoxicating, making your stomach grumble louder. You slowly and carefully got yourself up from the bed, both Sam and Dean cautiously watching you in case you needed assistance. You sat down at the little wobbly table as Sam dispersed the food. The two of you sitting next to each other as Dean tore into the wrapper on his bed across the room. 

“Sam, ketchup me,” he said while holding up his hands to catch.

The two of you reaching simultaneously for the packets in front of you. You both stopped yourselves when you saw what the other was doing. You shook your head and went back to your burger, while Sam tossed a ketchup packet to a smirking Dean. 

As you all were finishing the food in silence Sam spoke up again. “So um, Sam, where are you headed to now?”

“I don’t know,” you shrugged. “Heard maybe there was a vamp nest the next state over.”

“You are going to take on a nest by yourself?” Dean questioned with disapproval in his eyes.

“Wouldn’t be the first time,” you retorted. 

“Think that is wise after you just got your head cracked,” Sam asked with concern. 

“I’ll be fine,” you said while taking a drink from the soda in front of you.

“Yeah, I know you will be fine,” Dean said assertively. “Because we are coming with you.”

“Yeah, no thanks,” you said sneering your upper lip.

“Didn’t ask there sweetheart,” he replied cockily. “There’s a case and we are all hunter’s here. Why work harder when you should work smarter.”

“Don’t call me that,” you sneered.

“What?”

“Sweetheart,” you scowled with disgust. 

“Okay,” he said while raising his hands in defense. “Just saying… Sam, there is no choice in the matter here. We are going, you can ride along if you would like.”

You glared at his statement, showing him your best bitch face as you scoffed a “whatever.”

“So is there someplace we can take you to get your stuff? Like, where's your car?” Sam asked while cleaning up the table.

“Room 213 of the Midnight motel,” you replied after a while of remembering. “Car was hot-wired, probably impounded by now.”

“Well that is easy,” Dean laughed. “Your just two doors down.”

Sam walked with down the corridor to your room to help you grab your stuff. Your own stink becoming more apparent while making you nauseous so you told him you were going to jump into the shower and change. He politely smiled and told you that he would just wait in the room for you while you did what you had to do. The hot water only lasted for a few minutes, working to loosen up the soreness that instilled in your body. It was just enough to make you feel like you didn’t just get your ass handed to you. As you walked out of the bathroom while drying your hair, Sam sat at the table in the corner looking over the files you had sprawled out. 

“Snooping there Sam?”

He quickly looked up and cleared his throat while shuffling them back together.  “Just seeing what kind of research you had on the last case.”

“A demon who loved playing dress-up secretary for fortune 500 CEO’s, making them lose all common sense and tank their stocks.”

“Yeah, that’s what get me, we knew that too. The other demon though, not sure what role they were playing in all of this.”

“Beats me,” you said while settling on the bed to tie your shoes. “I’d like to get my hands on ‘em though.”

Sam nodded in agreement. You threw all of your belongings in your duffle and book bag, Sam grabbing them while you double checked the room if you had forgotten anything. 

“After this next case though, I am going back on my own,” you said while shutting the door behind you.

You didn’t go back on your own though. Case after case came where you found yourself taking up permeant residency in the back of baby while the brothers would argue amongst themselves in the front seats or agonize over cases gone to hell. You became their own personal couple’s counselor, often getting them to admit when they were getting on each other’s nerves and what was bothering them. Dean still had trouble with the whole double Sam thing sometimes. Often he wouldn’t think about what he was saying and would yell “Sam” in a general direction, most of the time following with a “no, the other Sam” when the wrong one would answer. Sam and you just would laugh at his frustration, sometimes turning it into an Abbott and Costello skit, “Who’s on first? What’s on second?” After two months you finally let Dean give you a nickname, Red. It came after you took out the leader of a big bad wolf pack in Louisiana. You stood covered in the crimson stickiness, and Dean claimed you as the badass Little Red Riding Hood.

The seldom times when you weren’t on a hunt you would be stowed away with Sam going through research and lore at the bunker, Dean often referring to you both as nerds. When you weren’t stuck in the books though, you would often binge-watch bad TV with Dean, who was slowly coming over to team Katelyn on Dr. Sexy M.D. It was like having two older brothers, especially when it came to your interest in other men. Acting like older brothers to a little sister, both of them tended to be overprotective as you flirted through the various town bars with whoever would fulfill the vacant spot in your bed for the night. Sam would argue that it wasn’t a good idea but would give up saying that it was your choice. Dean, on the other hand, would often interrupt right before you even had the chance to possibly seal the deal. When you would ask him what his problem was he would often declare that you were too good for them. Sam would just sit back and shrug in agreement with his brother. 

“You know if you stop acting like I’m your damn little sister I might be able to have some fun,” you complained while sitting with Dean at a dingy bar just on the outskirts of Albany. 

“If you weren’t so damn stubborn you could Red,” he laughed while looking around the place. “There,  maybe that guy over there that might be alright for you”

You looked over to where he was motioning to. “Ew, no Dean. He looks like he is about to keel over from too many cheeseburgers and beer. Look at him he is sitting still and sweating out grease.”

“Thought you liked cheeseburgers and beer,” he said with a wink.

“Not perspiring from my date I don’t,” you laughed while taking a large chug from the beer in front of you. “What about for you? How about her over there?”

He looked over to where your eyes were focusing. A woman who was stumbling over herself, while looking like she had previously been in a Van Halen music video…30 years ago. He gave you dirty scowl that made you laugh until your sides hurt.

“What Dean? She is just your type,” you laughed while trying to catch your breath. “I’m sure she will scream your name for ya.”

“What if I would rather have you scream my name?” he said with a wink and shit eating grin.

“Oh darlin’ if you had me, you would be screaming my name,” the words escaping your lips. Heat rushing to your cheeks as you wondered where the heck that had come from. Maybe the beer?

He dipped his head down while shaking it. Tears forming in his eyes as he was pinching the bridge of his nose while trying to hold back his laughter. “That is so wrong…”

“I could only imagine,” you giggled while looking off into the distance imagining the silliness of the idea. “Sam would come barging in like a moose thinking someone was in trouble.”

“Oh god,” he laughed while shaking his head.

“Oh you would be screaming that too,” you winked. You just couldn’t help yourself but to roll with it, this was a new kind of bullshitting with the oldest Winchester. It just came out too easily.  

“You, Red, are too much,” he said while downing his beer. “Obviously there are no good candidates for either of us tonight, so what do you say go back to the motel and binge watch something crappy on TV?”

“You read my mind, Winchester,” you said before finishing off your beer. 

The two of you entered into your separate hotel room, Sam soundly sleeping in the room next door. It had just become easier to always have two. There was less fighting over the bathroom and late at night when someone needed sleep, the other room typically became the hangout or research spot for the night owls. You went into the bathroom to change into your comfy jammies while Dean flipped through the channels. 

“You know one of these days we have to get you real pajamas,” Dean said while glancing at your worn tank top and small cotton shorts. 

“Oh bite me, Winchester,” you said while sitting up against the headboard of the bed. 

Dean was laying on his stomach facing the end of the bed with his eyes on the TV, flipping through the stations as you sprawled out your legs to prop them up on his firm ass. A common scene after a hunt. The Princess Bride was playing on one of the channels that made you kick him a little on his butt to stop there.

“As you wish Buttercup,” he laughed. 

The two of calmly watched it, occasionally reciting lines from memory.

“Hello, my name is Inigo Montoya. You killed my father. Prepare to die,” you both said in unison casually.

“I don’t get this part,” Dean said while watching the screen right before Wesley revealed who he really was to Buttercup.

“What exactly don’t you get dude?” you questioned in confusion. 

“Why wouldn’t he just tell her right away who he was? Why make her wait?”

“Maybe he wanted to know she truly loved who he was underneath the mask,” you said with a shrug.

“Well that’s deep,” Dean said while peering over his shoulder to you. “I think he is kind of a wimp, though. Just tell her you love her.”

“Oh yeah because guys always admit when they have feelings,” you laughed.

“Hey Sam, love you,” he said while giving you a smile. 

“Whatever Winchester,” you laughed while kicking him in his butt softly, where it bounced a little.

“Don’t whatever me!” he laughed as he flipped over to grab your ankles and unmercifully started tickling the back of your knees. 

You were sniggering and crying hard from the quick movements of his hands finding all your weak points. “Dean, come on. Stop it,” you cried while the sides of your stomach started to hurt from the giggling. He now had your legs pinned between his strong thighs while sitting himself on yours. He was working at your sides furiously, until you snorted from the laughter while trying to push him off of you. 

“You’re cute when you snort,” he snickered. 

“Dammit Dean, you have at least 50lbs on me, this isn’t fair!” you whined.

“Only if you say it back.”

“Say what back,” you asked while trying to gasp for air in the middle of your laughter. 

“That you love me.”

“Fine, fine. I love you. Now get off of me! You’re going to make me pee myself,” you cried.

He stopped and grabbed your wrists, pinning them up by your head. “See that wasn’t so hard was it.”

“You’re an ass,” you smirked.

“Yup,” he smiled. 

His eyes were hazily looking over your face as you laid their under him waiting for him to move while also trying to control your breathing again. He bit his bottom lip a leaned in, giving you a soft gentle kiss in the corner of your lips. Your eyes widened as you pushed your head back into the pillow in bafflement.

“Night Sam,” he said while pushing himself up and walking out of the room to his own. 

“What the hell?!?!”

Tags: @curly-haired-disaster @snffbeebee @bobasheebaby @waywardbaby @time-travel-bouqet @dean-winchesters-bacon (This is all I can think of right now, I’m tired from the party!)

Keep Reading Chapter 2 Here

[wonkyuna-blog]

Dependence

Genre: (MATURE) Angst, Fluff, Smut, M / W, M / M

Im Changkyun x Yoo Kihyun Summary: As the resident Oncologist, the throes of life and death are beginning to weigh on Changkyun. He turns to self prescribed medication to fight off the pain of loss and losing sight of yourself. One of the nurses has invited herself to become incredibly close with him under the guise of false hope and a helping hand. Will he lose himself within his own mind or learn how to move on with his life? And, what happened to Kihyun?

Word Count: 8.6k+

Warnings: Drug abuse, Death, Drug-induced Sex, Hallucinations /// Author’s Note /// I hope you enjoy the first installment to this series! 

Warm and sweet, the spring wind rolled through the window and stirred the stagnant air within Changkyun’s apartment. Everything had its own specific place to him, so in consequence it hadn’t been cleaned in months. Clothes were strewn about, coffee stained mugs sat at the dining room table as if their owners would come to reclaim them at any moment, and several different cologne bottles both empty and occupied were hidden around the living room like Easter eggs. He grew impatient sitting restlessly on the couch tapping his foot on the floor while running slender fingers through his hair. The window was hardly ever opened, but he believed some fresh air may actually do him some good and relieve some of the energy pent up in the home as well. There were memories in his head forcing themselves together, almost clawing at his consciousness begging for his attention, as though they had decided to march to their own beat. It was agonizing, all Changkyun needed was something to help him haze them out. Quiet them, relieve them, kill them... something, anything but oblige them. He scanned the living room with means to distract himself but all he could make out was ghosts from his past. With every dust particle and fabric depression left just the way it was supposed to have been. Left that way on purpose to preserve the very memories he intended so deeply to skew. Footsteps could be heard as they trod down the hallway. Suddenly the buzzing thoughts had been momentarily silenced and replaced with anticipation. Changkyun leapt in a blur from where he was as soon as the bell sounded to open the front door for Wonho.

“On time as always, but each time is beginning to feel like an eternity now. Man, am I glad to see you.” Changkyun was eyeing Wonho as he pulled a small box from the bag he carried with him. “My head becomes its own overcrowded streetcar basically with how all these thoughts are buzzing.” He continued, coming up with excuses for himself while still following the box in his gaze.

“It’s going to be like that until you decide that you don’t need these anymore you know.” Wonho shot him a concerned look before setting the box down on the table next to the sofa. “Maybe you should think about weaning yourself off ‘em? You’re one of my best friends Changkyun. I know this may not have been the best route and I know it helps your brain settle down, but you can’t keep on it forever. Eventually you're gonna have to go through the process of accepta-” Changkyun slipped him the money then gave Wonho a lingering hug; almost in a fifty/fifty bid to get him to stop talking and to deliver a sincere thank-you together in one motion.

“If I’m ever in serious trouble I know you’ll come to my rescue. Thank you.” Changkyun gave a sad smile and motioned towards the door. “I’m going to be late for work if I don’t hurry, I’m sorry. I’ll talk to you later.”

“I gotta head off myself anyway, I don't wanna miss work myself. See ya man.” Wonho walked off with a reluctant expression glued to his face. Changkyun locked the door behind him and made a beeline for the box Wonho had left for him. He knew what this was doing to him, but it was the only thing that made the high-speed thought traffic in his mind ease off. An escape attempt, sure, but he’d come clean soon he promised himself continuously. Upon opening it Changkyun exuded a relieved sigh, grabbed the container of Ketamine pills inside and swallowed one of them. They usually didn’t come in pill form, but Wonho had put the powder inside empty placebo pills to eliminate the anxiety of needles. As a doctor, Changkyun had no issues administering medicine to his patients with needles, but he couldn’t stand thinking about using them on himself. I’m going to repay him somehow… he’s all I have left, Changkyun thought to himself. He grabbed his keys and everything he needed for the day before heading down to the parking lot and into his car.

The pills had started to kick in shortly before he arrived at the Gocheok Hospital where he worked, and started a hallucination after parking. He gave a breathy sigh, trying to stabilize himself, and looked around as the interior of the car began to bubble and twist to resemble his apartment home again. There was a bright light shining in through the open window that illuminated the entire area. It was much cleaner than before, and the sun coming through the drawn curtains invited a feeling of lazy comfort. Changkyun shifted on the couch and took a deep breath to try and remind himself that he was revisiting a memory, not reality; but the air rolled in and brought a sharp tang of a lemon and grapefruit fragrance coming from a head of bright pink hair lying in his lap.

“Please don’t go to work today.” The man hummed, slowly lifting his pout to catch Changkyun’s gaze. He playfully flashed a smile and wiggled his body trying to be cute. It was a pretty convincing display.

“You know I have to, Kihyun. Someone around here has to work anyway.” He teased. They embraced each other closely while Changkyun stroked Kihyun’s hair. The warmth of the sun tracked its way crawling over his skin, but felt nothing like the warmth that Kihyun filled his chest with.

“Hm, fine. But! You have to make it up to me when you get home. We are going to go eat, celebrate, and no excuses!” Kihyun waited for a response as he tangled their fingers together.

“I promise”, Changkyun said as he undid their knot of fingers to loop their pinkies together. Kihyun climbed up his body to kiss him deeply and Changkyun’s mind faded back to staring at the parking lot of the hospital with tears stinging his eyes. He sat in silence with his thoughts for a while before gathering himself up and headed into the building. No more distractions today. The nurses waiting at the service desk perked up as he stepped through the front doors. One of them, whose badge read “Anna”, began gathering up files and presented them to him when he walked up.

“Good morning hun! You have a couple of appointments later today that I left files waiting for you on your desk.” She fashioned the largest smile she could manage to beam at him while the nurses sitting behind her whispered and giggled. He cocked a half smile while fingering the folders she handed him and thanked her quietly, moving on towards the elevator. “Did you see?” Anna’s face was flushed as she sat back down to gossip with the rest of the nurses. As Changkyun took a step to enter the elevator he felt his heart stop as he saw a familiar face with dancing pink hair waiting for him against its walls. He immediately dropped his gaze, boarded the lift, and chose his floor destination. Kihyun stood in silence, smiling and staring at him the rest of the way. Once Changkyun finally reached his floor he stepped off continuing to ignore his presence while gripping at his chest. His heart felt as if it had combusted into a wild flame. It licked at his very lungs making it difficult to breathe.

He reached his office finally and settled into his desk while fighting back the tears welling in his eyes. Slowly he blew air out from his mouth and stared at the files set before him. Focus, Changkyun, you have to focus. With a two-ton brick resting just under his rib cage he scattered them across his desk to skim them over. All of his patients were a variety of cases, whether they suffered from malignant tumors or benign cysts. Changkyun thought back to when he was in medical school and wondered why instead of feeling satisfaction from helping others he was just constantly barraged by the presence of death. It seemed to cling to him recently, and it was beginning to hold a significant weight over him.   A phone call suddenly came through and informed him that his first patient had arrived and was waiting for him in the exam room. Changkyun lingered in his thoughts a bit while heading to meet the patient, still wondering if this life was flourishing as he needed it to be. He entered the room where two men were seated inside waiting for him. “Erik?” He called out, holding an open file in both hands. The man sitting to the right gave him a weak smile and waved his hand. “A pleasure” said Changkyun, “I’ll be your oncologist. You can call me Changkyun.” He shook both their hands then took a seat at the table in front of them and flipped through his file. “Now, it looks like your biopsy came back negative and your growth is very benign.” They both gave an audible sigh of relief and grabbed each other’s hands for support. “I know how stressful it can be to hear that you have a cyst and not know what that may entail for you, so I’m happy I could deliver good news to you today. I would like to see you again for a follow up to make sure it doesn’t change, but breathe easy now.”

“Thank you so much doctor!” Changkyun nodded to them, wished them a good day, and left for his next patient gripping her folder tightly. He entered the next room and shook a woman’s hand.

“Nice to meet you Mira, I’m your oncologist, Changkyun.” She was alarmingly petite he noted.

“Thank you, doctor”. She gripped his hand tightly and wore the unmistakable mask of anxiety. Squirming in her seat and fidgeting with her hands while she seemed to be waiting for some sort of judgement to be passed onto her. Just as before, Changkyun took his seat in front of her and looked over her file. His heart plummeted.   “Miss, it seems that the tumor has spread to your lymph nodes. I’m very sorry to be the one to tell you this.” She sat in silence for what seemed like an age. “We can try chemotherapy if you’d like, that is an option, but it may bring you into even greater pain. Otherwise, you aren't looking at the long life that many of us are supposedly promised anymore.” Mira sat in silence with her head hung between her shoulders. He gave her the time she need to process this news until she finally looked up at Changkyun with tears streaming down her eyes and a smile full of what seemed to be hope.

“No, I think I will simply stay with my family and live out my time. My siblings need a strong person to look up to, you know? And I have to be that for them even if that means my time here is cut early. I’m... all that they have...” She sat in her thoughts for a short moment and finally nodded to confirm her final decision, trying her best not to get choked up. Changkyun hesitated, but understood the woman’s wishes and made the notes in her file.

“If you ever need to see me don’t hesitate to make an appointment. Regardless of your decision I will be here for you for any amount of pain or however uncomfortable you may feel in the coming months.” He walked over to her and handed his business card so she could reach him personally if she needed.

“Thank you for understanding.” Changkyun wished her well and stepped out of the room with a heavy heart. He couldn’t understand completely her resolution, there was no way. Wouldn’t she want to remain strong for her family by fighting, instead? Maybe she meant that she didn’t want them to see her body react to the chemo treatment since it breaks down so gradually. There was nothing he could do if she did not want to be saved, so he decided to try and put it from his mind.

In the elevator Changkyun dug in his pocket, palmed another pill, and forced it down his throat. He began to seriously question whether he could continue to put up with this anymore. The constant limbo of good news, bad news, and so forth was becoming a mental and emotional strain. He only wanted to help people but all there was to do lately was deliver death certificates. As he entered his office Changkyun was again greeted by a silent Kihyun. He was taken aback realizing who it was, then resolved to ignore him again and walk straight to his desk. He tried to shut out his piercing smile that lingered over his own face. A knock from the door resounded within the room and Anna walked in with rose colored cheeks, obviously embarrassed from barging in.   “I-I’m sorry to intrude on you like this but I was wondering if you might join me for lunch? I know how busy you must be and you know it’s silly of me to asking the first pla-“

“Yes”, Changkyun interjected.

“…What?” she said, dumbfounded.

“Yes, I will join you.” Changkyun’s expression was blank as he waited for her response. He kept stealing glances towards where Kihyun was seated. If there was any way to escape this uncomfortable situation it was by entertaining the nurse who seemed admittedly smitten with him. Anna gathered herself again and replied, “Right…” Gaining confidence she continued, “I’ll meet you in the cafeteria then!” He nodded in agreement and she nearly tripped over her own feet in her excitement to get out the door.   Changkyun sat in silence for a while before deciding to take two more pills then stepped out to meet with Anna. He bought himself an iced coffee and found an empty table near a window while he waited. The garden outside was bursting with new life. Emerald leaves coated the branches of trees that danced in the day’s breeze and gave homes to nesting birds. Wildflowers were pushing themselves up through the ground to feed upon the sun’s ever piercing light. It was the time of rebirth, where the death of winter was forgiven and creatures great and small began again.

“Thank you so much for sitting with me today.” Anna settled in the seat across from him carrying a sandwich and some tea. “I usually sit in here by myself when I’m not swamped with patients. It can get pretty lonely.” She pursed her lips and stared at Changkyun awaiting a response. He pulled himself from his fixation and thought on her words before replying.

“I usually eat in my office.” He held his drink close to him and let his eyes again glaze over scene he had been admiring outside.

“Ah, that only makes sense. I’m sure it’s very peaceful.” The nurse began to struggle to continue with words for the conversation considering Changkyun didn’t have much to say. He was lost in between the present and elsewhere in his mind. As he initiated the drift he began to imagine lazy smiles and sunlit rooms in the afternoon. Revisiting the vision he had in the car when he arrived that morning. A warm and fuzzy sensation crept across his face until the hum of a flat-line filled his ears and sent him into panic mode. He snapped back into a lucid state and soon realized he was standing over Anna cleaning his spilled drink. “I…I’m sorry I have to go.”

“NO!” she shouted, her face went flush with embarrassment and he stopped where he was as she continued in a softer tone “I’ll walk you to your office”. She escorted him out and back into the lift supporting him by grabbing his shoulders. Once they reached his office Anna opened the door and Changkyun sat himself down on the couch staring into space. She closed the door behind them and sat next to him, stroking the hair from his face.   “What happened back there, huh? You seemed to just kind of zone out then all of a sudden stood up and dropped your drink.” He kept his attention to the floor and remained silent. “Ok, well you don’t have to tell me… but I do have something that I wanted to give to you.”   She reached into her pocket and pulled out a bag with tiny blue pills inside. “I know how much you’ve been hurting lately, so I wanted to give you something to help you escape – even if for a little while. It may be a little unorthodox, but just this one time shouldn’t hurt anything, right?” He finally looked up at her; his eyes were filled with so much pain. He took a couple of the pills from her and swallowed them on the spot. “Besides”, Anna giggled, “if anything happens you are just lucky enough to have a real-life nurse at your side!”

He fell back into the couch and waited for his reality to melt away and transform into something new. After a few moments had passed Changkyun felt a slight pressure all over his body. His heartbeat raced and he began to feel extremely warm. What felt like fingers started to weave themselves through his hair in a precise and repetitive rhythm. It was so relaxing, they felt like they had become a part of him and maybe he could rest and fall asleep here. Another hand then caressed his face, every ridge of its skin he could feel resisting his own. The fingers began to trace his lips slowly before finally slipping between them. He took a breath and accepted it by taking it further into his mouth, releasing a soft moan and swirling his tongue around as it prodded in and out. A third began to glide over his stomach and chest, mapping out the crevices of his abdomen. These sensations were overwhelming; Changkyun didn’t know where to focus. Then finally, a fourth ran up his thigh where an intense weight lingered over his growing member. There were countless hands and fingers and nails sliding across every single inch of his body. Changkyun moaned heavily around the fingers fucking his mouth. He opened his eyes and turned his head to the side to see Anna sitting next to him simply staring at his ecstasy. Her fingers locked through his hair as she finally leaned forwards and kissed him deeply on the mouth. He felt himself melt into her as sparks of life danced across his face. He hadn’t felt this way in a long time. She climbed into his lap before disconnecting their faces to leave a trail of bites along his ear, neck, and collar bone. A feint fruit-like smell wafted throughout the room as he tried to focus on what he was feeling. He felt every point of pressure magnified. Changkyun grabbed Anna's hips and bucked into her in response to her advances. If there was a kiss one place it was suddenly in a thousand other places at the same time.   Changkyun couldn’t take it anymore – he began to grasp at the buttons on his pants to remove them underneath her. “I need you”, he breathed, not looking her in the eye. She stared into him for a moment as she couldn’t believe this was actually happening. Anna helped him throw off his pants and underwear and followed suit with hers as well. They were both locked in a sloppy, passionate kiss as she braced herself with his shoulders and lowered herself onto his erection. She gave a deep growl as his girth stretched and filled her cunt. He threw his head back and let out an exasperated cry at the sensation, grabbing onto her hips to dig himself deeper. Anna held Changkyun close to her chest as she grinded herself onto his dick. She dipped down and began to suck on his earlobe and leave gentle nibbles. “You’re mine now”, she whispered into his ear. She adopted quicker movements and clenched herself around his shaft, releasing quiet breaths with each down stroke. He leaned down and mouthed at her breasts, his tongue skillfully rounding her nipples. She began to push faster and harder for his release and he dug his face into her collar bone to mask his deep moans. Anna grabbed him by the sides of his throat and held him to the back of the couch as she rocked him in and out of her soaked pussy.   Changkyun couldn’t take it anymore – she gave a surprised yelp as he suddenly pulled her to him by wrapping his arms under hers and held her by the shoulders so that his shaft was as deep as he could manage. He pumped himself furiously into her until there was a searing heat in the pit of his stomach like a fire he could no longer contain. “Fuck!” he grunted as he finally released his cum into her, filling her core. Changkyun clung to Anna for a short time attempting to catch his breath before falling back into the couch in a daze. She giggled and removed herself, looking back only to see him spaced completely out and breathing heavy. “Oh shit, I have to go… I’ll catch up with you later Changkyun”. She gathered her belongings and closed the door behind her.

Changkyun lingered on the couch in silence staring into space easing his breathing down before finally bursting into tears and withdrawing into himself. All he could think of in that moment was Kihyun and their quiet afternoons spent embraced with each other at home. Everything felt like him, smelled like him, tasted like him. He didn’t want anyone else.

Anna continued to coerce Changkyun to become intoxicated during their meetings and took advantage of him in an effort to gain his affection. She believed that eventually he would come around to see that he really cared for her, and what they had was unique – despite his ritualistic callouts for Kihyun during their moments of intimacy. A couple of weeks later, on the way towards his office for another of her scheduled sessions she walked by a group of gossiping orderlies. “There’s Anna! She really is such a kind soul for being there for Changkyun with what he’s been going through recently. I’ve never seen him so down, hopefully she can get him to turn himself around.” She smiled at herself because she didn’t realize that others were seeing everything she was doing for him too.   Soon enough he’ll learn to move on and accept me, she thought to herself. He had been obsessed over Kihyun for far too long and it was in the past anyway, she was his future now. Anna knocked and opened the door to his office and closed the door behind her. For some reason the lights were out, so she flipped the switch and turned towards his desk. “I’m here for your check up!” She hummed, attempting to start a little game with him; but he wasn’t at his desk or anywhere in the room that she could see. She heard muffled noises coming from behind the desk.   When she went to investigate her heart stopped the instant her gaze fell upon Changkyun. He was in the middle of the floor seizing and foaming at the mouth, pills scattered around his desk. “Oh my god” she whispered to herself. “I…I’m going to go get help, please don’t fall asleep.” Then ran out the door screaming for anyone to come and help. Changkyun’s convulsions slowed to a stop before finally shutting his eyes and dissolving deep into his subconscious before he was escorted to the emergency room.

After blacking out, Changkyun descended into another dreamscape of memories. He endlessly fell amongst a dark void where the silence was deafening. All he could reach out for in his mind was the desire to feel warmth. And yet here he fell for what seemed like an eternity, until finally opening his eyes where he was lying on the couch in his apartment living room – again. Kihyun was soundly resting on top of him locked in a tight embrace. As he drew a deep breath he had found the familiar scent that lingered with him all too vivid. Changkyun sat them both upwards and stared longingly into his eyes. With the most serious yet soothing voice he could muster he said, “Kihyun, I want to marry you.” With baited breath he pulled a small dark blue box from underneath the couch and revealed a black band with fire opals set into it. Kihyun’s face was paralyzed with shock and he hesitated from being unsure of the right words to say. Soon after he began to tear up and slowly nodded his head with a toothy smile holding back his tears. Before he could let out his sobs of joy Changkyun cupped his face in his hands and kissed him as deeply as possible, pulling him close. Changkyun pulled away with their foreheads still touching and in an almost sing song voice said “I love you so much, I’ve never known anyone that I could be so absolute with before. I can be myself around you and-”.   Kihyun pressed his lips against Changkyun again and laughed “I love you too. You don’t have to get into an excited talking fit.”

Kihyun ran his hands fluid up Changkyun’s chest where they rested on the crook of his neck and held him there. He connected with Changkyun again, this time straddling him on the couch while they passionately kissed and melded into each other. He removed his shirt and bent down to whisper in Changkyun’s ear. “I want you like this for the rest of our lives” he giggled then began to trail light bites up and down his neck, to his ears, and kissed him deeply again. A light moan of appreciation escaped from Changkyun’s lips as his hand traveled downwards now and snaked under his pants to stroke his growing erection. Appreciation evolved to lust as Changkyun pulled Kihyun closer to return the biting, only harder and more feverish.   “Mm, just like that baby” he continued to vocalize his pleasure into Kihyun’s ear while he was massaging his engorged shaft.   Content with his work thus far, Kihyun began removing the rest of his clothes, pulling down his underwear and allowing his own erection to spring free. He then began to work on Changkyun’s pants, only then to bend down and take his length into his mouth. Pressing his tongue flush against the underside, Kihyun bobbed up and down the shaft and held the base with his free hand. He was massaging the rim of his own anus and moaned around the dick in his mouth.   “Fuck.”   Changkyun’s breathing had become raspy and labored from the stimulation and he ran his fingers through Kihyun’s hair, slightly pushing the base of his head to encourage more. Kihyun began to slow himself before finally stopping to trail kisses up Changkyun’s body. He lifted up to position himself just above his swollen cock and then with one hand keeping it steady slowly eased himself down onto it.   “God, Changkyun” he groaned deeply as Changkyun entered him, letting him adjust to the size. Kihyun patiently worked into a rhythm while the two kissed each other. Their pace quickened now and he dipped down to whisper in Changkyun’s ear, “baby I want you to fuck me like it’s the last thing we do”.   Changkyun groaned and slid his hands underneath Kihyun’s arms to lock onto his shoulders and then pushed him hard into his cock.   “Fuck!” they both breathed and Changkyun continued pumping into him.  

“Kihyun I’m close, ah” the pressure was building in his testicles he started to slow his pace as he felt about to explode but Kihyun grabbed his thigh and told him to keep going. Changkyun worked back into his former pace, obeying. He began to grunt as he could feel himself about to tip over the edge. Kihyun reached between the both of them to help relieve his own pressure when he felt Changkyun grow stiff and then incredible warmth enveloped inside him. He heard whimpers and whines as he slowly rode out Changkyun’s high until he reached his own peak and ejaculated all across Changkyun’s stomach and chest. They both lay there while trying to catch their breath in each other’s arms.

Warmth was exactly what Changkyun had felt in that moment, he closed his eyes and it crept into every corner of his being. He felt whole. Beginning to shift he opened his eyes to find a hospital bed and Anna hovering over him. She felt incredibly guilty for instigating his overdose, it was written all over her face.   “I’m so sorry” she began crying to him. “I thought this would help you forget what had happened. I thought for sure once you felt better we could have a chance together.” She fought back tears and stroked his hand. “I’m sure once you’re out of this coma you’ll see just how much I care about you.”

Changkyun pulled back, and realized he was still lost in his mind wandering around in a dark hallway before coming across a door. He opened it to see Kihyun in a hospital bed like the one he had just been in and rushed towards him in an anxious fit. “Oh my god Kihyun, what happened to you? I got a call letting me know you were here and I came as quickly as I could. Are you ok?” he said, absolutely panicked.   “I’m fine. I just got into a little car accident is all.” He smiled big at Changkyun to lighten his spirits. Changkyun forced a smile back but stared at his fiancé covered in bruises and cuts. Kihyun could see through his fake smile and tried reassuring him.   “The car looks much worse than I do, love.” He winked at him with another huge smile and Changkyun wondered how he could be this calm. The doctor tending to Kihyun knocked at the door before stepping in.   “Ah Changkyun, right on time. Don’t worry too much now, he may look banged up but we gave him some pain killers and he’ll pull through just fine. He’s going to need lots of rest though, and I know he’ll be in very capable hands when he’s cleared to leave.” Changkyun offered the doctor a smile of relief and thanked him. The attending checked all of his vitals and made notes on his files then excused himself. Changkyun went to Kihyun, grabbed his hand and gave him a tender kiss on his forehead.   “I’ll be fine hun, I promise. I want you to go home and rest.” Kihyun tried relieving his stress but Changkyun argued.   “No, I’m staying right here with you until you can leave. You wouldn’t be here anyway if I hadn’t gotten called to stay after my shift was up. Tonight, was supposed to be for us, remember? We’re celebrating after all” Changkyun lifted Kihyun’s hand to show him the ring he had given to him and wiggled it back and forth.  

Kihyun gave a light giggle and replied, “Go home baby. I will be right here waiting to see you in the morning. We have the rest of forever to celebrate anyway you know.” Kihyun expressed a toothy wink and brought Changkyun’s hand to his face to give it a kiss. “I love you. I’ll be here waiting for you.”

“I love you too, and I promise that I will be back first thing in the morning to entertain you.”   “I’ll hold you to that!”   Changkyun bent down and gave him a kiss on his forehead and turned out the door, nearly smacking into a nurse coming in. “Oh Anna, it’s you. I’m sorry I wasn’t paying attention.”   “No worries doll, just coming in to check on our special guest is all. Go get some rest he’s in good hands” She rushed him off and closed the door behind her. Changkyun reluctantly went home that night with the equivalent of what felt like a bowling ball sitting on top of his heart. He felt responsible for the accident and was going to do his best to make it up to Kihyun in the morning.

The following day he woke up as early as possible and nervously rushed down to the hospital. A group of nurses welcomed him at the desk, including Anna, who Changkyun felt was staring holes into him, but he brushed it off and continued on his way. He reached Kihyun’s room, flowers in hand, to greet him and see how he was doing. He carefully opened the door and realized that the room was silent. He walked over to the bed and saw that Kihyun was sleeping.   Changkyun walked over slowly to wake him but he just wouldn’t budge.   “Damn, I know you’re a heavy sleeper but even this is weird for you hun.”   As he continued to try his best to rouse his fiancé it dawned on him that his skin was ice cold. Changkyun’s heart sank and began to race all at the same time. Smashing the panic button several times on Kihyun’s bed trying to keep his breath steady but no one came to his call.   “What the fuck!” He ran out of the room and called for anyone to rush to his help. “Someone please! Get a doctor! Anyone! My fiancé isn’t waking up!” Soon after, one of the attending doctors rushed in with a nurse and raced to check his vitals. “Why are these damn machines off!” yelled the doctor. They asked Changkyun to wait outside while they attempted to resuscitate him. Changkyun tried his best to remain calm as he paced back and forth in front of the room Kihyun was in. Using exercises to keep his blood pressure and heart rate down and holding back tears as best he could. There was no way he could leave just like that, he was supposed to be fine. The doctor finally opened the door after what seemed like hours and asked him to step in. “I’m so sorry Changkyun.” He swallowed hard. “It was too late to do anything for him, and we tried everything we could. It looked like he suffered from organ failure overnight possibly... due to the trauma of the accident.”

“You told me he’d make a full recovery with rest… and now… he has organ failure from trauma?” All Changkyun could do is look down. He couldn’t face Kihyun or the doctor just yet.

“I know, and I’m sorry. It must have been something we missed during his initial testing. Unfortunately, it is something that can happen even with extensive tests. We’ll leave you with him for a while. When you’re ready you can review his charts, and let us know what you decide to… do.” Changkyun could tell he was using his words carefully to not upset him further, but what more could he say? His fiancé was just pronounced dead. Dead and gone and now Changkyun felt more alone than he ever had. The doctor and nurse left the room, leaving Changkyun finally staring at a lifeless Kihyun. A husk of the constant laughter that rang through his soul every day, now deafened. He walked over to him, stroked the hair from his face and began to sob quietly.   “We were supposed to grow old together. Why would you leave me like this?” A few small tear drops fell onto Kihyun’s face, frozen in time. “I can’t do this on my own Kihyun. You are my everything. What am I supposed to do without you?” Changkyun completely broke down into tears at this point and rested his head in the crook of Kihyun’s arm to muffle his sobs.

The room suddenly began to dissolve and fade. It now resembled a funeral home complete with rows of flowers and grieving loved ones. Changkyun lifted his head from his arms to see a perfectly groomed, peaceful Kihyun, no... his husk resting in his coffin. He stood and walked over to where he lay. Wet, hot tears stung Changkyun’s face. Kihyun was forever frozen in time; it was him but not all in the same. There was no laughter in his face, no love in his eyes. Changkyun laid an arrangement of flowers next to him and squeezed his arm but immediately felt sick from how stiff it was.   “I love you so much Kihyun.” He choked. “And I always will. We will be together again. Just keep waiting for me, please.” He bent down and gave him a light, lingering kiss on his cold forehead.

He lifted himself and opened his eyes to see another hospital room, only he was in bed this time. Anna was sitting in the corner playing on her phone when she looked up and screamed.   “Oh my god Changkyun you’re finally awake!” She scrambled over to his bedside and looked him over. “Take it easy hun, you’ve been out cold for 3 days.”   “What?!” Changkyun’s heart started racing. “How much have I missed? What happened?” His head felt clearer now than it had in months and it was absolutely awful.   “Changkyun, you over did it a bit with your pills and overdosed in your office. I found you convulsing on the floor and after you had calmed down you just slept for a long time. The seizure was mild enough to just knock you out for a few days. The good news is that you already ran through most of your withdrawals in your sleep, so it should be smooth sailing from here. I've been here waiting for you this whole-time and...” Anna's words blurred to incoherent noise as Changkyun realized what was going on. He was sober? No wonder he had so many dreams. He then realized exactly what he had been dreaming about, it all came rushing back to him and he burst into tears then. Everything he had worked so hard to erase or dull was now prominent on his mind. Anna became alarmed.   “Changkyun what’s wrong?!” She held him close to her and stroked his back. He took deep breaths in between sobs and just lay there motionless in her arms.   “I…I had dreams – no…memories…of Kihyun.” Changkyun then felt her body grow rigid and looked up at her. He found a kind of anger in her eyes he had never seen before. She quickly changed her composition as she noticed his puzzled look and tried to reassure him.   “Aw, Changkyun. I know you’re still beating yourself up about what happened, even after all this time, but there was nothing you or anyone could have done. It's best just to leave it in the past you know.”   “I know, but the reason it eats at me is because he was perfectly fine just hours before I had left. I could see it all so clearly-”   “No use in worrying about it now hun.” She cut him off before he could go any further. “You know mistakes are made and things can be overlooked. We are all human after all, and that includes unfortunate mortality. We just don't realize how fragile we can be until it's... too late.” Anna became physically uncomfortable and kept trying to get him off the subject but it was no use. Changkyun was lucid and fresh on the thoughts thanks to his memory dip.   “I’m not denying that, but all of his machines were cut off and his panic button wasn’t even working either. That’s not normal Anna.” She got chills when he said her name in that tone, so she resolved to adopt a louder voice.   “Maybe they were just getting ready to release him. Let’s not talk about this anymore Changkyun it’s just going to upset you and you only just woke up. What do you say you and I go back to your place for some relaxation, huh? Get your mind off things!” She started tugging at his shirt playfully but Changkyun wanted to fight back.   “Who was in his room last?” More of a demand than a question, she pushed herself off him and started to gather her things.   “Hmm…” she stalled. “You know, I’m not sure.”   “You were the last one in there when I left.” He was being curt now. He felt she was hiding something.   “Oh yeah? I’m sure someone else could have gone in to check on him after me.” She was trying to laugh his accusations off. Changkyun stared at her now, expressionless.   “You weren’t even scheduled to work that night though, I remember you texting me asking to grab a drink with you.”   “They called me in, just like they called you. It was busy that night. Listen, I’m going to go get you cleared for release ok? Wait just a minute.” She shot him a smile and rushed out the door before he could protest any longer. Changkyun sat in his bed starting to put pieces together. He suddenly felt sick. Something wasn’t right, and Anna was definitely hiding something. The bottom line was that he knew now that Kihyun certainly did not die on his own, and Changkyun was going to pull the truth.

They rode home in a taxi together in painful silence. Once they reached his apartment door she stopped in front of it before going in.   “I have a surprise for you!” She swung it wide open and Changkyun’s heart dropped into his stomach then exploded into a million little pieces, horrified. The apartment was completely spotless. Nothing was how he had left it. It wasn’t home anymore, at least not their home. “Ta-da! Do you like it? I came to grab you a change of clothes while you were out and noticed how filthy this place was. So, I thought I’d surprise you by cleaning it up!” She scrunched her face and looked at him like a proud puppy, though he felt she was a proud puppy that had just taken a giant shit in the floor. He looked around the living room with everything absolutely pristine. Nothing on the floor, no papers, no coffee cups, no cologne bottles. No memories left, like he really was gone now. Changkyun felt his face grow hot with rage.   “Why…” He struggled to find the right words; he didn’t know whether to be mean or just plain upset. He decided he didn’t want to be nice. “Why in the fuck would you do something like that? It was like that for a reason. These were mine and Kihyun’s things. I left it just the way he did. It wasn’t your place to-” Tears were stinging his eyes at this point and Anna looked as if she didn’t quite understand.   “I mean a thank you would be nice you know. I went through all that just for you. Now you can start to move on- “ “I don’t want to fucking move on. It’s been two months Anna. Two. Months. We were going to get married. He is the love of my life.”   “He’s your ex though, he’s gone.” She still didn’t understand what point he could be trying to reach, and it only served to make Changkyun more furious.   “He’s not my fucking ex! He’s dead, Anna! He died! Two months ago!”   “Oh please” She scoffed once again. “He wasn’t right for you anyway. I saw right through the both of you. I did you a favor, you know.” He stopped cold at this silent confession. His own heartbeat went silent in his ear and he just stared at her with wild eyes.   “What favor was that?” She was fidgeting but regained her confidence   “I told you, he wasn’t right for you.”   “And what, you are?” He yelled, hoping that was a stupid question. She recoiled a bit but stood her ground, there was no turning back now.   “Yes! Holy fuck, yes! I’ve seen the way you look at me Changkyun, don’t deny it. You can't. I saw how unhappy you were all the time so I had to do something. For you…for us! Fate just so happened to be on my side that night. I went drinking without you since you stood me up and I wrecked my car, it just so happened to be him. All you cared about was him though, you didn't even respond to my messages when I told you that I had gotten into an accident.” She began to giggle. “I knew it didn’t put him off though and that he’d end up at our hospital anyway so I just showed up in my uniform. At that point I’d been given a second chance and I wasn’t going to waste it.” Changkyun stared at her with his mouth wide open. There was a fire burning inside of him and the flames licked at his fingertips as he curled his fist tight.   “You murderous bitch. We’re co-workers Anna.” He tried his best to speak calmly. “If you call me being polite secret code for wanting to fuck you then you’re more insane than I originally thought.”   “You’re just in denial.” She laughed. “And if I recall correctly you did fuck me! It was so easy anyway, as soon as you left the room I just injected ricin into his IV and unplugged his machines. He slipped off into his sleep.” She looked to be reminiscing as she continued her montage. “You can’t tell me those nights of passion we shared weren’t love, Changkyun. Ugh, you wanted me so badly. Your beautiful cock was so welcoming.” She raised a finger to her mouth and giggled – her attempt at being seductive to assuage the situation. "Now that this is all out of the way and you're better, you should take me right here on the couch. Oh, that'd be fun!" “You drugged me you delusional bitch.” Changkyun felt there was no reasoning with her at this point. She was too far gone. “You could have convinced anyone to fuck you at that point.”   “It was the only way I knew how to get close to you, though, and I’d say it certainly worked. If it gives you any closure he tried yelling your name a few times as he slipped off. Poor thing, I would imagine gradual cell death might be pretty painful. I didn’t really think about it too much. He really did love you though, but we can all move on now that everything is aired out!”

Changkyun had reached his breaking point, and, in a fit of rage, grabbed Anna by her throat and threw her to the floor of the apartment squeezing as tightly as he could around her esophagus. She looked at him with pleading eyes, grabbing at his hands trying to claw herself free. She started kicking at him and they both fell over in the struggle. Ana tried her best to push her body upright to escape but Changkyun crawled on top of her and wrapped his hands around her throat again with even more force than before. She gasped out with tears in her eyes and bloodshot cheeks searching for any sort of air to relieve the pressure, then finally went limp. He stood over her, arms still coiled around her throat, trying to catch his breath before finally realizing what he had done and fell back.

He began to panic and hyperventilate. He had lost everything, his fiancé, his life, now he was going to lose his job and his freedom. Death seemed to follow him and pluck from his basket everything he held dear. He searched around the room for the remains of the box Wonho had given him. It was hidden underneath a lap table and he consumed every last pill inside. He didn’t know what else to do, he needed relief. If death was going to follow him he would gladly walk alongside it. He just wanted to be as numb as absolutely possible. He decided to check Anna’s pockets in case she had anything on her and of course, she did. Changkyun could only wonder how she was going to take advantage of him using this goddamn bottle. A full bottle of Ketamine pills just like the ones Wonho had given to him with instructions inside.

Do not consume more than two in a 24-hour period.

He downed the entire container and forced them down his throat, then collapsed on the floor in a fit of tears. Nothing would ever be the same again, and he didn't want any part of it. Not if this was the way the world is. Not if he'd be constantly stripped of the only happiness in life he managed to grasp. His mind began to haze and he felt sharp warmth envelop him as what felt like hands gripped him tight. He stared off into space and a miasma of lemon and grapefruit seduced his senses.

Kihyun.

His entire body became paralyzed, frozen on the floor in front of the couch. He closed his eyes and couldn’t help but smile. Everything was so warm and weightless, just the way he always felt with Kihyun. Upon opening them again Kihyun himself was smiling back at him while humming a song and began to stroke Changkyun’s hair. He gave a soft chuckle and went to sit at Changkyun's side.

“Kihyun” Changkyun’s voice cracked. Kihyun kept singing while stroking his hair. His voice was soft like velvet and it was making him very sleepy. The world was so heavy now, pressing down on his whole body instead of his heart for once. Everything would be fine as long as Kihyun was with him, though. Changkyun wiped his mouth, wet with a white foam, and tried his best to keep his eyes open though they protested. How could he sleep when he finally had Kihyun back with him?

“Kihyun, I’m scared.” He whispered.

“Shh” Kihyun whispered back. He pushed the hair out of Changkyun’s face and gently stroked his arm. “I’m here for you. I always have been, and always will be.” He felt everything, he knew he was really there with him. Kihyun placed a soft kiss on Changkyun's cheek and hugged him tight.

Tears poured from Changkyun’s eyes. “I’m... s-so... sorry” He choked out. “I feel like I let you down. I… I just miss-ed you so much… and I- I didn’t know what else to do.” He tried his best to form the words he wanted to say, but his mouth felt like it was stuffed with cotton and marshmallows.

“You have done no such thing. Just relax now.” Changkyun slowly broke into small convulsions in his limbs as his body began to shut down.

“You’re here with me now Changkyun. Everything will be ok, I promise.” His whole body was twisting itself now as Kihyun held tightly onto him. He couldn’t control it anymore. He felt himself slipping away as he lost all sense of physical being. His body didn't belong to him anymore, and it was as if it were fighting to contain Changkyun within.

“Just let go Changkyun.”   Changkyun choked a laugh and began to violently seize. He pitifully twisted and writhed while Kihyun whispered sweet things into his ear still holding onto him tight until he finally went limp and one tiny sigh escaped his drenched lips.

The apartment was quiet now; Changkyun was lying lifeless in front of the living room couch when a breeze lazily swelled into the room from an open window. The sun had begun to set and it seemed the whole world stopped in this moment.

Just then, a knock from the door broke the silence.   “Changkyun?” Wonho’s muffled voice echoed throughout the apartment and he knocked again. “Changkyun are you home? I’ve been trying to text you for days now and it isn’t like you not to answer. Hello?”

[yuna-dan]

Blame the kids (Interlude)

Yes, I know. But I did warned I wouldn’t be able to update as much. Sadly next chapter will proably take longer since I need to graduate and I fucking (pardon) failed maths and I need to passed because if i dont my parents are going to kill me and then I’ll kill myself. So I wont be that active since I seriously need to concentrate.

Also. Yes this chapter is important. Every five chapters there will be an interlude that’s kinda aside from the Logicality fic. 

So yeah. I hope you like this.

Summary: Logan was a dedicated teacher. Marion was a social worker with two kids. The kids were jerks.

Warning: Angsty. Cursing and mention of an intent of rape. NOTHING GRAPHIC. However if you feel uncomfortable skip that part.

Based on: Single! Dad with two kids and Teacher! Logic by @prinxietys (if me tagging you makes u uncomfortable make me know plssss)

Last Chapter here

Marion was smiling proudly for his new case; the little girl was hugging his new mama and the woman was kissing her head.

Someone tapped his shoulder and he looked over “Can I talk to you, Mo?”

Morality followed the man to his office after saying goodbye to the girl and her family, in there was a little kid who was sitting at the desk, moving his legs. He giggled.

“Alex, I've told you. Sit on a chair.” The kid rolled his eyes and jump off the desk, sitting on the floor. “Can you wait outside? Please I need to talk to–”

“Yeah, yeah.” He brushed him off and stormed out of the office.

“Look, Morality.” He grabbed some files from his desk, “I’m going to retire in less than a month and I wanted–”

“You want me to take the kid's case?” He finished for him, “Why, though? I don't have a problem but I'm curious.” He pursed his lips.

The older man pulled his white hair a little. “He's kind of a problematic kid and he'll probably will end up with a random social worker and I think that would be a lot for him to take and I also think you're good at your job.” He ended with a laugh.

“Sure. What's his name? I'll take him.”

“Alexander Sanderson.”

“Hi kiddo,” Alex was sitting outside the office with hugging his little legs. “I'm Marion Sanders but you can call me Morality. I'll be your new social worker and I'll help you find a forever home.” He tries to ruffle his hair but the kid flinched and Morality, who was kneeling beside him was slightly surprised.

“Yeah. Good luck with that.”

What the heck?

Marion was driving and the kid was in the backseat, looking outside the window.

“This is a tempora–”

“I know. I'm not new at this.”

“Okay, grumpy pants. You've got my number?”

“Mm-Mm.” He nodded.

"There are going to be other three kids in there, play nice kiddo. The dad is a mechanic and I’m almost sure the mom is a nurse, I don’t remember. I think they’re a nice family or at least they told me so. If you don’t like it there we can find another one.”

“Oh my god, yes I get it.” He snapped.

Morality laughed.

The only thing he hated about his job was paperwork. Why the heck do they have to make paperwork? Paperwork was a pain in the ass.

He was going through some of it when his phone rang, “PJern's castle, what's your hassle?”

“Morality?” the tiny voice of a kid informed Marion it was not the time for jokes.

“Yeah. What’s wrong sweetie? Is everything okay?”

“It’s Alex. I’m sorry to bother you or interrupt you, but uhm I think I’m in danger?”

“Okay, okay.” He has already outside the building. “What’s going on Alex?”

“So… Umm, all the kids went to the park but I couldn’t go because I’m punished, but I’m sure I didn’t do anything wrong…” he was stuttering, almost nervous, “And now Peter and Anna are fighting really loud and I think she’s leaving right now.”

Morality’s body freeze. He didn’t want to think on what could that mean. “Ok. Sweetie I need you to lock the door of your room…”

“We are not allowed to lock them.” The eight-years-old mumbled. “Something bad happened the last time.” He whispered, scared.

Morality pinched his nose, almost angry, “No. I need you to lock yourself in the room. Stay close to the phone. I’ll be there in five.”

The image of a forty-years-old man with no pants, blood on his fists trying to knock the door of a little kid is something he doesn’t want to see again.

Alex was terrified. He was holding a lamp as if it was a weapon and was shaking while silent tears rolled from his cheeks.

Morality had already called the police but he arrived first, and he was just outrage to see a man trying to take advantage of a kid like that... so he punched him.

“You know I can't tolerate that behavior,” Peter, his boss, said while they were in the hospital, “You should've wait for the police...”

Peter, also known as Pranks, was mad. He hated men who abused kids but he was a boss, and he needed to maintain an image, even if he hated.

Morality frowned but commented nothing. “I should freeze your license.” He said and Marion's breath caught on his throat, “but since you save a kid I will let this passed. Don't tease me though Marion.” He winked.

Morality sighed relief, “This is my life, thanks P.”

Pranks smiled and nodded, “Yeah, you owe me a lot, pie. Now go and check on your kid, he's probably scared.”

Alex was sipping his juice box, it's been two weeks since that horrible experience and he was still on the hospital.

“Hey kiddo,” Morality entered without knocking, “How you been holding?”

Alex just mumbled a 'mfine' and brought his legs to his chest and holding them there. Morality sat on the bed and Alex moved a little away from the man, making Marion a little sad.

“What’s going to happened to me? Where am I going?” His voice was harsh but the man managed to notice the fear on it.

“Remember that sometimes you stay in your last social worker house for a while?” He nodded, “You’ll stay in mine then your forever home will come next.” He added enthusiastically.

“Ok.”

Morality was driving towards his house keeping in mind that the eight-year-old might already arrived and cursing himself and his own forgetting mind. The reason?

Alexander didn’t have keys.

He arrived two hours later and he found the kid sitting in front of the door, doing homework over his legs.

“I’m so so sorry Alex, I forget that you didn’t have keys.”

Alex chuckled dismissively, “This wouldn’t be the first time I stay outside a house.”

“C’mon. Let’s start eating. I buy pizza to apologize and because you’re a piz-za of work…”

“Ughhh.”

Alex was taking out his homework when he noticed the rectangle form inside it.

“Fuck.”

He recognized it as the phone of Marion. “Shit, he's going to kill me.”

“Yeah, I noticed it.” Marion ruffled his hair while serving him the food.

“I'm sorry, I didn't realize it.” He whispered ashamed.

“It's fine baby,” the words felt easy on his tongue, “I don't mind it, it was a mistake.”

Alex smiled.

They worked easily. Almost as if they've always been living together.

Alex walk to the school to the house, he cleaned a little and prepare the table and wait for Marion while doing his homework.

Marion arrived, checked his homework and then prepared the food.

They work nicely. It was pretty.

“Why didn't you tell me you lost a year?” Morality was scolding him and Alex rolled his eyes annoyed.

“I already feel stupid, don't add it.” He snapped angrily.

“Hey, don’t call yourself that.” Marion said, but his voice was still mad. “Gosh, you need to tell me, I can help you Alex. You’re a kid.”

“You read my file, don’t you?” He raised up abruptly from the chair where he was sitting.

“We’re not done, young man.”

“I don’t care.” He yelled closing the door hard.

“Yeah, but I do.” He screamed back at the kid.

“You’re becoming a dad, bro.” Thomas snickered.

Morality just grumbled while looking up for courses that could be useful for Alex.

“I’ve got two good news for you, kiddo.” That was the first statement that Marion did when he entered his home.

“What?” He looked up from his homework.

“Summer is coming up, and I inscribe you to a course where you’ll get ahead. You’ll make up for the year you lost so when you enter school again you’ll be with the kids of your age!” Alex was raising an eyebrow confused.

“I-I…”

“And I think I found you a home! They want to try it! You’ll have a brother though, is that okay?”

Alex look shook and is he wanted to cry, “Yeah. It’s okay.”

“Good. Now, help me with the food. I’ll teach you how to prepare pasta.”

Few hours passed after that moment and Marion was about to check on his kid. He knocked on the door and opened it before he got an answered. “Hey, ‘Lex ten more minutes and lights out, okay?”

He was surprised when the little kid’s arm wrapped around his waist. Alex buried his head on his stomach.

“Thank you.” He whispered.

Marion gently ran his fingers through his hair. “It’s okay kiddo.”

Two months. Two months and Alex was doing greater than any house. Yeah, nightmares come and go sometimes, but Marion manage to help him.

Heck, even in school his grades improved. Marion sign him up for in course, where he could do his homework and improved his social skills.

“Why are there two teachers?” He had asked when Marion told him.

“No… It’s only one.”

“But you said them…” Morality could’ve ‘awwed’ but manage to keep a straight face.

“See, some people identified themselves with different pronouns. You’ll understand when you get older… or not. Either way I’ll support you.”

Alex was really confused but shrugged it off. “Fine. Thanks.”

“Bob's ambulance, you maul 'em we haul 'em.” He heard a snicker from the other side of the phone.

“Hello. Mr. Sanders?”

“Yeah, what’s up Mrs. What can I do for you?”

“Um, yeah. I called you a few months ago. I was considering fostering a kid, I believe his name was Alexander?” Her voice was soft and ashamed.

“Oh yeah. Alexander Sanderson, he’s excited about it.” He lied. Okay, yeah. Alex was kind of happy but he hasn’t comment anything.

“I’m sorry. I don’t think my family will be okay. I mean, we traveled a lot, and right now we finally manage to get a grip in our life I don’t think it would be fair for my son and Alex. We’ll be back but maybe in a year.”

Morality sighed, “Yeah. Okay.”

“You should adopt him.” Pranks said when he got in the house.

“What are you doing here?”

“Alex let me in. You need to adopt him. He’s stable. He’s okay. I came here to talk about what’s going to happened to him, now that his foster family, but he finds a family here! Marion!”

He shot a look at the kid sitting on the counter reading a book and his heart broke at the idea of separate of him.

“Maybe…”

“Kiddo! I’ve got pizza and a slightly bad news.”

“Why?!” Marion was slicing some apples for breakfast when the kid interrupted him.

“Why, what honey?” Marion turned himself to see the Alex’s eyes.

“Why do you fucking care?!”

“’Lex, you okay?” He gently let the knife over the table and went to the kitchen’s door and went

“Stop it!” Huge tears were rolling down his face and Morality was about to panic.

It's been a few hours since Marion dropped the bomb about wanting to be the legal guardian of Alexander and he didn’t even comment a thing.

“Is this about me wanting to adopt you, honey–?” Alex stomp his foot to the floor.

“Why do you want me?! Why do you care?!” Alex screams was frightening Marion. He has seen Alex shout in the night when he woke up from a bad dream but he had never seen the kid like this.

“Alex,” He reached to his head, trying to caress his hair but the youngster spat away his hand.

“My own parents didn’t care! They abandoned me like a fucking dog! Why do you even care!?” Or at least he understands that, since the crying didn’t let the kid speak correctly.

“Honey, don’t.” He kneeled in front of him and embrace the crying figure in a tight hug. “It’s okay sweetie.”

Alex, at the beginning, was trying to break free from the hug but Morality would just hold him tighter whenever he tried to get away. Until Alex melted in the hug and buried his head into the chest of his social worker.

“Stop caring so much…” He whispered.

Marion hold his head with his right hand and the other one hold his back, pressing their bodies together, “Can’t do that.”

Alex was in the bathroom cleaning his face. “I’m already late for school.”

Marion was outside it, waiting in front of the door, “I don’t think you can go.”

“Wha-?”

“You’re terribly sick.” Marion commented dramatically, throwing his hands in the air. “You are burning with feeveer. You caaan’t even walk from the sickness.”

“Are you feeling okay, Mo?”

“Not really. I think I’m infected with a weird virus…” Alex raised his eyebrow, “Maybe we should stay at HOME and rest.” He winked. “Let me call your director and Pranks. You go and put your jammies.”

Alex smiled, “’Kay”

They were laying on Marion’s bed. “I need you to talk to me.” He whispered gently while caressing his hair and removing it from his brown eyes.

“Why?”

“I want to help you, baby.” He kissed affectionately his forehead and Alex’s eyes watered again. “Even if you don’t want me to adopt you, I want to help you.” He keep caressing his head and with his thumbs removing the tears.

And Alex talked…

Im going to separate this into two because this will kept getting longer XDDD. I’m sorry. But I hope you all enjoy it! I really do! This was a hard chapter to write tbh. If you notice something worng or a warning i missed pleae let me know. Also I want to add that he was not... you know raped (I hate that word Im sorry). That, yes kids can curse. Yes his story be explained in the near future... hopefully. To that nice anon who send the lullaby Im going to used it :).

I appreciate all the feedback <3

Thanks for reading :)

[mbaljeetsingh]

A Look at Bootstrap 4's New Reset: Reboot.css

I've been wanting to write this article for a long time - since August 25, 2015 to be exact. It's been in the back of my mind and bugging me forever. I'm glad I'm finally going to sit down and bang this post out despite there probably being a ton of great resources out there on this.

If you don't already know, Bootstrap is an awesome front-end framework! I've been using it for a really long time, and I think it helps out all types of developers. It doesn't matter if you are front-end or back-end developer, complete noob or an advanced coding robot from the future. Bootstrap is a robust and flexible set of tools that helps you code awesome websites for all use cases.

Bootstrap 4 recently came out of alpha and into Beta after being in it that super-early build for like a year. If you're thinking, "Wow, it's taking forever and is still in beta...", don't. What the Bootstrap core team is doing is no small task. They're literally pushing out code that is used by gazillions of people and websites (seriously, like over 20% of the web)! On top of that, CSS exist in a land where every individual developer is super opinionated about the right and wrong way to do things. It's no easy task.

With all that being said...

Let's talk about a really neat new feature in Bootstrap 4 called Reboot. In this post, I'll blab a bit about the history of resets, Bootstrap, some cool features of Reboot, and how you can start using it today.

Reboot.css

Reboot in the simplest terms possible is Bootstrap 4's "reset". It's a little bit different than your typical reset though.

The Eric Meyer Reset

I'm pretty sure the term "reset" first came around when Eric Meyer, a guy who is kind of like the godfather of CSS, came out with a stylesheet to literally reset all browsers to look the exact same. The problem with this is, it really reset things. Literally everything looked the same regardless of the element. Elements like h1s were the same as h2s. This meant front-end people would have to build their own base styles. This is both a good and bad thing.

Many front-end people in the early days would build out their own "resets" on top of this since their base styles stayed consistent. This also unfortunately left some noobs / beginners in the dust who never really grasped the importance of having a base. For example, people who would do something like this:

/* Heading 2 Base Styles */ h2 { color: #13335f; font-weight: 700; margin: 10px 0 20px; font-size: 30px; FLOAT: LEFT; /* Just kill me. why.......... */ }

This went on for what felt like forever. If you're old enough to have lived through these small hustle projects, congratulations on being a survivor. In my humble opinion, a lot of back-end developers hate CSS to this day because of dealing with things like this.

Normalize.css

So after these dark-ages of having to deal with some really messed up stylesheets, a lot of people's personal "base" resets started becoming popular and shared. The most popular was definitely normalize.css.

Normalize was different because it reset your browser styles and gave you some dead-simple, super pretty base styles. It made building some nice projects a breeze. It gained serious popularity.

Normlalize.css doesn't use border-box by default though, requiring that you add it somehow. I can't imagine doing any front-end development without this property. Normalize.css is still active today, widely used, and you can you can still easily swap this. I honestly don't know why it's not default for all elements, but I'm sure there's some good reason since many projects still use normalize as their go-to reset.

Incoming Reboot.css

Now comes Reboot.css. Reboot.css is like a normalize.css 2.0 in my opinion. It has some awesome "reset" type features:

It uses box-size: border-box; by default on all elements.

"Resets" browser styles for consistent cross-browser development.

Keeps a simple and natural base-style on elements.

Carries a little bit of an opinion on how to write your CSS for the modern web.

Made by the Bootstrap people (lots of trust)

Bootstrap 4 puts all this into a single page making it dead-simple to use.

The Eventual Future of Frameworks

CSS is becoming more and more featured-pack by the day. Things like "Flexbox" or "Grid" are getting wider browser-adoption making frameworks less necessary for doing complex layouts easily.

On top of that, you have some ridiculously cool tools like LESS, SASS/SCSS, and PostCSS becoming the default go-to for writing styles making it easier to automate tedious tasks such as creating a set of button styles.

In enough time, I can easily see frameworks becoming 95% smaller or the birth of a new, super simple, bare-naked framework that gains massive popularity. We're not quite there yet, but, heck, that might be even be Reboot one day.

Get Started with Reboot.css Now

So, how can we test Reboot.css out now and actually see what the heck it is?

You could go to the Official Bootstrap 4 Documentation and just dig through the docs and get going, or you can just mess with this codepen I made. It has every single element on a single webpage and lets you easily swap out different resets to see the difference.

If you want to just find the CSS and test yourself, check these resources:

Official Github Page

SASS build file

CSS file

Box-Sizing: Border-Box Default

If you read the intro paragraphs, you'll already know this. Reboot.css uses box-sizing: border-box; by default for all elements. This in my opinion is the most distinguished difference between normalize.css.

So, it's safe to say it's "responsive ready" out-of-the-box. Here's what it looks like at the top of the file:

*, *::before, *::after { box-sizing: border-box; }

If you're familiar with this, it's taken from Paul Irish's arguably super famous post.

Use "rems" for Sizing and Spacing

A Quick REM Demo

REMs are just not for font-sizing, it can be used for all spacing. To show you just how much Reboot.css embraces this, checkout the demo below:

Unit of Measurement Differences Explained

CSS3 introduced a new unit of measurement called rem. There's kind of a huge debate amongst us nerds on the best use for sizing on the web. These rems have a pretty darn good solution to the whole debate. It all comes down to accessibility for users (resizing of font-sizes / screen-sizes) and maintainability / consistency for front-end developers.

Here it is summarized:

px: Good for consistency, bad for accessibility

em: Good for accessibility, just okay for maintainability / consistency

rem: Good for accessibility, really good for maintainability / consistency

That's a huge TL;DR: of the whole debate, but there's a ton of good resources to learn a bit more about units of measurement.

How REMs Work

Let's assume you know nothing more than pixels as a unit of length. Going to try to break this down in laymen terms without code.

So, you know that 100 pixels is always going to be 100 pixels long regardless if you're have your operating system show large fonts, are on a 4k monitor, or those 100 pixels are in a 1000 or 5000 pixel sized container. It doesn't matter. 100 pixels is 100 pixels. This is good for consistency but bad for usability since it doesn't scale well to user-specifc preferences.

The unit em was first introduced to try and help with this "scaling" issue by being a computed unit of measurement. This means the sizing is always relative to something, in this case the parent. So in a basic example, you could say: "Instead of being 100px long, be 10% of the 1000px long container" or 0.1em". This way if the container was resized by the user / device / system / whatever it would remain consistent in perceived length.

This is cool, except it gets real crazy when you have an em be relative to another em. Or worse, an em that is relative to an em that is relative to an em. Things get complicated and messy and become impossible to deal with overtime.

I like to think of rems as a simple em. Everything is always relative to the root (aka, the body tag or html tag). So if your root was 1000px, your length is 0.1rem regardless of container, settings, whatever.

Native Font Family

Have you ever designed a website to see slight differences between operating systems? Mac's probably look the best but sometimes fonts will look not as crisp on Windows?

This is because of how systems render fonts. Reboot.css embraces using whatever their native font stack is to the operating system.

This actually means 2 things.

Near-zero load time for the default font

Uses the font the user wants / looks best for them

Here's the code. Check-out all the fallbacks!

/* SCSS Variable */ $font-family-sans-serif: // Safari for OS X and iOS (San Francisco) -apple-system, // Chrome >= 56 for OS X (San Francisco), Windows, Linux and Android system-ui, // Chrome < 56 for OS X (San Francisco) BlinkMacSystemFont, // Windows "Segoe UI", // Android "Roboto", // Basic web fallback "Helvetica Neue", Arial, sans-serif !default; /* CSS */ font-family: -apple-system, BlinkMacSystemFont, "Segoe UI", Roboto, "Helvetica Neue", Arial, sans-serif, "Apple Color Emoji", "Segoe UI Emoji", "Segoe UI Symbol";

Margin Top is Dead

Okay, maybe it's not dead, but reboot.css makes the following elements no longer have any top margin:

h1

h2

h3

h4

h5

h6

p

ul

ol

dl

pre

This actually makes a ton of sense. I can vouche for this method. I never use margin-top in any of my base css that I have ever done. It makes things fall into place a lot easier when things are CMS powered and the content can be anything. I would even suggest adding table to this list.

Clean, Dead-Simple Base Elements

Reboot also provides a clean and naked style to all common elements. Things like blockquote, tables, forms and much more. This goes a bit more to be able to have clean and simple form fields to get up and running with.

Mobile Fast Click

By default Reboot.css uses touch-action: manipulation to speed up any delay that might exist for touch users.

Here's the full code:

a, area, button, [role="button"], input:not([type=range]), label, select, summary, textarea { -ms-touch-action: manipulation; touch-action: manipulation; }

You can see that clicking links, buttons, and form fields will be a lot quicker and responsive on touch devices.

Conclusion

Overall, I would say Reboot.css is a great project and continuation of standardizing the modern web with familiar web practices. You can learn more about reboot.css at the following links:

CSS Reset

SCSS Build

Official Bootstrap 4 Docs

Introduction to the Reboot Stylesheet in Bootstrap 4

http://ift.tt/2wLtE16

Bootstrap’s Reboot — Next Evolutionary Step for CSS Reset

via Scotch.io http://ift.tt/2xwonKz