#tried playing a real time shooter today. Well

[graegrape]

let's be bad at video games together

[autisticlancemcclain]

fic rec friday 45

hello and welcome to fic rec friday! where, on friday, i rec five of my favourite fics.

Pieces by zenstrike

Five times Keith found comfort with Lance, and one time he tried to return the favour.

look i know i talked about zenstrike last week and im here to do it again. i know what the secret relationship trope is, i know there are so many great fics but like. zenstrike reaches something in my chest and fucking twists it. i read something of theirs for the first time like two years ago and i remember being actually fucking struck dumb on my bed and clutching my phone because the way my stomach churned and my heart pounded and i well and truly FELT every fucking emotion!! when keith nervously pressed his palm to the junction of lance's neck and his breath sharpened mine did too!! when the swirling dread of fear and nerves turned in lances belly it turned in mine too!! idk what it is about zenstrike but they have touched me in a way no other author ever has in my whole life and i cant always read everything they write in one sitting, sometimes im consuming it all in a frenzy and sometimes one fic takes me days. anyway keith loving lance with every goddamn molecule but being physically unable to say it but determined to show it will always make me insane sorry for the goddamn essay

2. when you're here loving me by orphan_account [EXPLICIT]

“’Look at me, I’m Keith,” Lance muttered, “’I run directly at Galra sentries and don’t even think about the big, glowy thingies in their hands. What are those called again?’” He tightened the gauze, gently despite his trying to act angry, “’Right! Guns! Can’t possibly hurt me, right?’” Keith scowled, “I know what a gun is.” ✦ they come back from a mission, gross and in love.

this one is kinda porny lol but its pretty goddamn funny. of COURSE these two are the massive losers who play rock paper scissors after they bone 💀💀

3. The Samurai and the Sharp-Shooter by orphan_account

It's tough going on missions when you have to pretend you're dating your rival. Tougher still when you're actually not even rivals but lovers forced to hide that fact for the sake of the team's greater mission. Not canon, but still in space and everyone's there. Fluffy with zero angst.

this fic makes me CRY with laughter bc why are they fake dating to hide that they're real dating on a god damned assassination mission 😭😭 they're actually so goddamn stupid

4. Headshot by @angelwithaknife

“Guys,” Lance grunted, lying down behind a couples of rocks and aiming at some soldiers again, “I appreciate that you appreciate me but please stop waving at me after I save you, I’m sick of running around trying to find new spots, I specifically chose a long-range weapon so I could lie down all the time.”

this is so CUTE the team loves lance so bad. and as they should!! bc hes so smart and amazing and cool and wonderful and talented honestly i just love him so bad

5. What's Something You've Never Told Me? by @fondaboo

The lady drops a slice of lemon into it and slides it back towards him. “You’ve got pretty good taste kid,” she says. Her cordial smile turns wicked and teasing, as she jerks her chin to the dance floor. “And it's not just limited to drinks, I'd say.” Keith follows her dark gaze, before he can help himself, biting down on a groan when he sees where she’s looking. Lance. Jesus, he can’t even go to a bar without someone calling out his—blatant and painfully obvious—crush on Lance. “Friend of yours?” She croons. He drags a hand down his face, maybe he needs something stronger than whiskey. Ketamine maybe. “Best friend actually,” he squints through his fingers, glaring darkly, “not that it’s anyone’s business.” Or the author overuses em-dashes while trying to make Keith talk about his damn feelings! OR ace Lance has to deal with a smitten Keith and just wants to watch disney

ACE LANCE ACE LANCE ACE LANCE ACE LANCE ACE LANCE!!!!!!!!!!!!! god i love him. also fondaboo literally never misses

that’s it for today!! i’ll see y’all back next friday for the next fic rec post!!!

[postgamecontent]

R-Type (TG-16 Mini)

In March of 1988, the PC Engine found its true calling. Did people know it at the time? Maybe not. But the release of R-Type on the platform was a real statement. It was the first home console port of a certified arcade hit, and a relatively recent one at that. Indeed, there would be no Famicom port of R-Type at all. It's a stunning conversion, too. Perhaps more than anything before it, R-Type laid bare exactly what the increased power of the PC Engine could offer versus the Famicom. We can spot the shortcomings easily today, but at the time this was practically like having the arcade machine at home. Well, half of it anyway. More on that in a bit. Perhaps most importantly of all, this is the first shoot 'em up on the PC Engine.

The console would come to be known as the home of shooters in that generation, and as opening salvos go, R-Type is big. Even today, R-Type is considered one of the best games in the genre. From the look and sound of it to the wild boss battles to the varied stage designs, this is a game that positively cooks from start to finish. It's a very tough game, but also a fair one. The versatile Force Pod gives the player a lot of choice in how they want to deal with the numerous creatures that fill the screen, and there are even a number of other fun power-ups to get. Even the basic beam can be used with small rapid shots or charged up for a big blast. You've got every tool you need in order to win.

Another nice thing is that unlike with many of its contemporaries, you're rarely put in an unwinnable position if you die. It might be hard, but you can usually survive long enough to get back on your feet. A Force Pod power-up is typically placed not far after each checkpoint, and you can go pretty far with just one Force Pod in R-Type. I'll be very clear here: I love this game. And I love this port of the game, too. It's terrific. It would be nearly a decade before a better version showed up at home.

The version included in this mini-console is actually the North American release, and for good reason. Due to the size limitations of HuCards at the time, the original Japanese release came in two parts. R-Type I arrived in March with the first four stages, and R-Type II came in August with the remaining four. You could use a password to carry your progress from the first to the second, or just play each as a standalone.

By the time the North American TurboGrafx-16 launched, Hudson was able to fit the full game on one card. Despite the game being split into two halves, R-Type's PC Engine port had a big impact in Japan. It's easy to see why. Even going off just the first four stages of the game, this would have been the best release on the system so far. Once that second part hit, you would have had some proper bragging rights as a PC Engine owner. There's a reason Konami usually tries to license R-Type from Irem whenever it decides to do PC Engine stuff. It's one of the early icons of the console in Japan.

Normally I would conclude by talking about why the game is on the mini-console or what role it serves to the line-up, but R-Type doesn't need any of that. It speaks for itself.

[lawlznet]

raw vent

I've been doing this for more than 2.5 years and yet I feel like I'm always learning something new about being a #vtuber . It's easy enough to give advice, things like sticking to a consistent time or playing something that isn't a pain to slog through, but in practice you-

never really appreciate this as much as when it becomes relevant? Like, I'm coming to terms with the fact that, there just aren't many games that I feel comfortable playing on a hard/very hard difficulty on stream, much less in general. That comes with variations in-

-difficulty and personal skill level and, frankly, just how long you've been playing it. I can get my head knocked around constantly in most fighting games and be back to playing the next round through like, FT20. But as much as I love Selaco, it is such a chore to play on-

-admiral mode- as most doom clones are. Those difficulties, even according to the developers, are meant to be stressful if not outright unfair. These are games where your opponents are hitscanners, for one thing. You need to literally memorize their positions and even then-

-it will STILL be unfair because of randomized spawns. What was once an interesting challenge and entertaining stream turns into repeating the same corridor for 30+ minutes while you're only getting more tired and more frustrated, holding back the doubt off how your viewers-

-must be feeling.

Contrast this with a game that either is "hard" but not in a way that is necessarily unfair- meaning you'll figure it out after a couple tries- or a game that expects you and wants you to die, so it streamlines the respawn process or randomizes the next map.

I don't typically enjoy rogue likes, but maybe that's because the "genre" (outside of Nethack etc anyway) was fairly rough back in the day, and games today are a lot more streamlined by comparison. 4+ hours of Empty Shell gone in an instant- and I even spent time during that-

-stream to vtube mostly in character and progress some #lulzlore bits with my viewers who are following that ARG in the background. It really broke up the pacing a bit and allowed me to "rest" between deaths.

Why can't I do this with, say, other games? Shooters, even?

Maybe it's not even a problem of the genre or the difficulty. Maybe it's a problem of expectations, like trying to hold myself to finishing a game for the first time in months. (I don't even remember the last game I played to completion on stream). The nature of my current-

-real world situation means that I can't stream at a consistent time, more like a time "range" more than anything, and other factors- like the state of the world, and my (fragile) mental-emotional health, honestly makes being a vtuber feel like a chore. And then there's-

-social media being typical social media, with garbage takes mixed in with grifters doing what they do best. It's hard, I guess, to have anything to do with this industry and adjacent fields, and doubly more when you personally feel like you have nothing else going for you-

-in your life. I don't see any point in going back to school. The industry I graduated with (journalism) is actually more depressing than the entertainment industry, and the field I'm in (healthcare) is just a slow grind into a depression filled, mediocrity soup.

I hold onto this because I feel like the alternative is watching the seconds of my life tick by, with very little time to feel happy or, well, self worth. I have to shut off everything to avoid being told by strangers online that if I don't do this or believe this or eat this-

-or think this or look like this that I simply don't exist. Then when I do all I have really is the silence and the silence used to be great for a few months. Then those months became weeks and then those became days and I realize I graduated from college... 12 years ago.

and what do I have to show for it?

I wrote a science fiction novel, you know. And then I spent like... three, technically four, years running a roleplaying group expounding on that novel because I never cleaned it up and never got it published.

And then one thing and another happened, and that group got torched. I needed a new thing to become passionate about and in a hurry, because I think maybe what horrifies me the most about all these years spent as a so called "content creator," is that I hate both of my selves.

But I tolerate the online one. The "fictional" one, insofar as any and every person that you see who creates "content" is "fictional." The dolled up version that looks and acts a certain way because that's what brings you the clicks, babe. The likes and subscribes.

You think I'd feel comfortable being a nonbinary bisexual effeminate male in meatspace?

Hell no.

What about an investigative jou-

No.

Okay, what about-

Just stop.

Just stop right there and understand, I'm only here because what I am or who I am has no value-

- "The Real World."

---

This is probably one of the few times I'll ever allow myself to be "vulnerable" on social media, and that's because as of right now, I am so fucking tired. So, so fucking tired.

I'll leave it to you to decide just how much of it is "true."

Good night.

[paisley-print]

10:00pm / Happy Birthday

About: It’s Jack’s Birthday and you planned something special. 

Warnings: Marriage problems, infidelity, alcohol.

Rating: 18+

Characters: Agent Whiskey x Reader

Note: You wanna see some real speed boy? (Months of not posting and two chapters in less then 24 hours. Whack.)

Series Master List

@scorpionerd  @just-here-for-the-moment@sherala007 @jediknight122 @pintsizemama​ @kenbechillin @elegantduckturtle @hearttbreak @tintinn16 @showbuckysomelove​ @somenerdyuser @kesskirata @ohyeasam @athalien @spideysimpossiblegirl @littlemisspascal @sheresh0y​  @voteforpedro09 @greeneyedblondie44 @feel-it-on-the-way-home13

“Hi Jack, it’s....” you glance over at the clock on the stove, checking the time. “It’s ten. I’m calling to see when you’ll be home. Okay, love you, bye.” You played the message back, cringing a little at the way your words slurred together, but sent it, anyway. 

You reached over to pour yourself another glass of wine. It was your third one, but you were already feeling the effects. He said he would be home at seven. If you knew he was going to work overtime tonight, you wouldn’t have spent all day rushing around. 

Your stomach hurt just thinking about the tray of lasagna and birthday cake you spent hours working on. Still though, you wanted to wait to eat until he got home. 

This year had to be better than the last. You doubted whether you could make it through another twelve months of silence. Plus, with the whole Ezra thing, you needed a grand gesture to show that you were willing to work on this. He cared for you; he had said it. He loved you. He would always love you, and although he looked through you as if peering at a specter, you believed him. You hadn’t been the best wife these last few months, so you felt as though you owed him this. 

Tonight was just for him, and everything had been prepared perfectly. His favorite movie on the TV, beers in the fridge, birthday gift all wrapped on the nightstand upstairs. Months ago, he mentioned a pair of cuff links his father used to wear while the two of you were combing through old photo albums you had found in the attic. They were square, with yellow gold trim and two crossed six-shooter pistols set into a background of black onyx. 

Jack’s father left when Jack was nine, and one of the few happy memories he had was the day his father brought home his first suit for Sunday mass. His father taught him how to make sure his shirt wasn’t creased, how to wear a necktie, comb his hair back with gel, and finally the importance of cuff links. 

While looking over the photograph, Jack had mentioned liking the style of the cuff links in passing, but you could see they held quite a bit of emotional value. After that, you had spent weeks tracking down the exact set. With the help of a Reddit board, a few antique shop owners and one generous seller on Etsy, you secured a pair identical to those in the photograph. 

Keeping the secret had been tough. You almost let it slip a few times, but you will yourself to go on a little longer. The surprise would be that much more meaningful if you gave it to him on his birthday…. if he ever planned to show up, that is. 

As you finished another glass, you stood from the table and walked into the guest bathroom to reapply your lipstick. A few hours ago, your makeup was perfect, but it was now looking smudged. You tried to fix it as best you could while the room around you spun.

You had one of his dress shirts, with thigh-high stockings and a new lilac set of lingerie you bought specifically for this occasion, and heels you took off about three hours ago. You felt so incredibly ugly looking at your reflection, and you weren’t sure why. A few hours ago you were on top of the world, now you were willing yourself not to cry. 

Once you were done touching up your lipstick, you grabbed another glass of wine and took a seat on the couch. It was then your phone buzzed, and a number you recognized popped up on the screen.

You picked it up, becoming aware of how fast your heart was beating in your chest. “Hello?”

“Little bird?” Ezra’s voice came floating over the receiver. “Forgive me for calling at this hour, but I was becoming worried about your lack of response to my messages. Noticed your car in town today on my way to work and I wanted to make sure you were alright.”

You felt guilt grip tightly at your chest. He had sent you a few texts since the night of the shooting. You couldn’t bring yourself to respond. This man was bad for you. It didn’t matter how much you liked him; you were a married woman trying to work on your relationship. Ezra knew that, he should respect you and understand why you weren’t jumping to text him back.

“I’m fine” your aid.

He paused, hearing the way you were slurring your words. “Little bird-”

“Stop fucking calling me that,” you snapped, anger rising out of you from nowhere. “I’m not your little bird, okay? I have a fucking name.”

Ezra seemed incredibly taken off guard “my apologies-”

“And I need you to stop texting me and calling me. Whatever the fuck you think we had, we didn’t. You were convenient, that’s all. I think it’s seriously creepy how you keep trying to hit on me when you know I’m married. Seriously, go find yourself a real fucking girlfriend and stop trying to ruin my marriage.”

The silence that followed was deafening, so you continued, “okay? Please get out of my life.”

“Understood,” he said simply. “Have a nice night.”

You hung up the phone and threw it onto the other side of the couch.

-

It was nearly 5:00am when Jack finally came through the door. The first thing he noticed was the half empty bottle of wine left open on the table, then you, asleep on the couch. He set down his satchel and locked the door behind him. Then he went around, shutting out the lights, then the tv. Once he was done, he sat next to you and rubbed your arm to wake you up. 

His patience was running thin. He had wished you up in bed by the time he got home, asleep, so he didn’t have to deal with any of this. “‘Y/n’ come on. Time to go to bed.”

You drew in a slow breath and blinked at him as you woke. You could still feel the effects of the alcohol burning bright. “What time is it?” you mumbled, sitting up. 

“Come on, I’m gonna pick you up. Ready?”

 You nodded and allowed him to stand you up and put you over his shoulder. You noticed how his shirt was untucked in the back.

Once in the bedroom, he laid you down on the bed. He moved towards the closet but took his hand and stood. He sighed in annoyance and moved his face away as you wrapped your arms around him. 

“Happy birthday,” you smiled, the heat from the alcohol making your face feel warm. 

“Not my birthday anymore,” he said, trying to gently pull away from you.

Some part of you knew you were making a fool out of yourself. “I got a gift for you-”

He shook his head. “You’re disgusting.”

The words stung. You let go, your eyes widening, like you were about to cry. Then you realized what he thought you meant by gift. He knew you were too drunk to sleep with, so implying that he would have offended him.

 You laughed, trying to smooth over the awkwardness. “No, not like that. I’m sorry about - I. I drank when I was cooking because I thought you would be home earlier.” You noticed a smudge of pink on the inside of his collar. Then you noticed he wasn’t wearing a tie either. You lifted your hand, intending to touch it “What’s-”

 He jerked back, then turned, going into the bathroom and slamming the door shut behind him. You jumped at the sound and the way it made the photos hung on the wall rattle. You weren’t exactly sure what you did or saw to deserve a response like that. 

When you heard the shower turn on, you figured you would get ready for bed yourself, but before you did, you withdrew the gift from the nightstand and placed it on his side of the bed. After that, you made your way to the guest bathroom to take off your makeup, then back downstairs to heat up some food. Nausea was already beginning to set in. You needed something in your stomach. While you were down there, you made a point to pack some leftovers in Tupperware containers that he could grab on his way out the door in the morning.

-

You slept in the guest room that night, figuring it was best to allow him space. He left before you woke, but you could have sworn you felt the mattress dip sometime in the morning and a soft touch come up to smooth down your hair. It could have very well been a dream though. The hangover was a bad one, and it was times like this you realize your age was catching up with you more quickly then you would like to acknowledge. Your plan for the rest of the day was to clean, mostly because you didn’t know what else to do and if you sat mulling over the events of last night it would just make you sad. 

[passp0rtguardian]

Gordon pushes benrey to breaking and benrey cries? Angst? Just making the boys real sadddd,,?

Gordon's had... a lot to process, since the Black Mesa incident (or so it was dubbed, after the whole thing was over).

One of the main things to process was Benrey. The security guard he met at the beginning of that whole shitshow, the one who somehow ended up living with him maybe a month after it was over. Came to the doorstep kicked puppy style and all.

One of the things that was constantly plaguing his mind was what Benrey referred to them as, specifically during that final battle on Xen.

Friends.

Personally, he thought they were the farthest fucking thing from. But Benrey also described things like 'playing in the mud and sand'. So... were they friends as children or what??

It was too confusing for Gordon's mind to wrap around- he barely remembered his childhood anyways- and it was quickly coming to a head today.

Benrey wouldn't stop mentioning it, for whatever reason. Whenever Gordon denied them something or whenever they just didn't like what he was doing, just droning on and on and on about how they were friends and friends didn't do whatever he was doing.

As of now? He was going to - begrudgingly - tell them that it was damn near twelve in the morning and he had work tomorrow so they needed to turn their very loud video game down.

He got to the living room, rubbing his eyes blearily and trying to focus on the scene. Benrey was laying on the couch, playing some kind of shooter game - how did they get Overwatch? - and looking honestly bored of it.

Gordon cleared his throat to catch Benrey's attention, no sign of it other than a slight pause in what they were doing. Either way he talks. "Benrey, you're uhh- gonna need to turn down the volume, dude. I have work in the morning and it's nearly midnight."

As expected, Benrey started whining. "aww cmon man i need the volume to uhh. know what's going on bro. cmon we used to play video games this late with the sound loud too we were friends man we-"

Gordon cut him off, reasonably irritated due to being tired as hell. "Look man, I don't care or even fucking know about this friends bullshit you're spewing, I just want you to turn the volume down so I can sleep!" He snapped.

Benrey paused completely in what they were doing, letting themselves get killed. Well that was different. "h- wuh?"

"You heard me. I don't fucking care about us being friends or whatever you thought we were because we were never fucking friends! I just need you to turn the damn volume down, man!"

And, well, Benrey maybe shouldn't have, but they felt that telltale lump in their throat nonetheless. "maaan cmon of course you remember we were like- the best of friends! we had uhh- slumber parties and we played in the park n shit-"

"Benrey, I don't know what the hell you're talking about." Gordon cut off with audible annoyance, also cutting off any other desperate babbles. "Just turn down your fucking game volume. Stop it with the friends shit because it's just fucking annoying- we were never friends and we never will be!"

And maybe, just maybe, that was the wrong thing to say because Benrey was suddenly leaning over the couch to look at Gordon. There was a pause as they opened and closed their mouth almost like a fish.

Then tears started spilling down their cheeks, almost unprompted. It made Gordon pause and stare in shock.

Maybe they weren't exactly tears- it was sweet voice rolling down Benrey's cheeks, staining them colors of blue and black and red.

"we were friends though," they muttered, seemingly ignoring the shakiness in their voice as nothing in their face changed besides furrowing of brows and a slight crinkling of their nose. "we were best friends and you don't remember it 'n now you're getting all mad at me over something you don't remember." Their voice is harsh and bitter and takes Gordon by surprise.

"Wh- hey, wait, Benrey, I- that didn't mean- I didn't mean to put it so harshly I'm just tired and-" Gordon tried making some kind of excuse but it was drowned out.

"mneh mneh mneh i dont fucking care." Benrey hissed before flopping back around on the couch, leaving drops of sweet voice on the back of it as they harshly wiped away the tears streaming down their face. They join the next match of their game, turning the volume up louder just to be childish about it.

Gordon tried a few more times to get through to them, but nothing was working. He had... broke them. Genuinely.

He just decided to let them have their volume. They deserved it after that.

[strandedcrow]

thoughts on the glass animals album dreamland? (info dump welcome)

YES hi hello thank you

I talked like,, a lot so I’m sparing y'all with a cut

The album itself is just so well organized and executed it’s insane. The entire album just captures the feeling of taking a nostalgic trip through your own life and the way that it ends up forgotten in a way, sickly sweet and vague, subdued, and so easy to get completely lost in. And part of what makes it so well done is the pure authenticity it’s completely drenched in. The album itself didn’t exist until quarantine hit, they had been taking a break after a band member was injured and had to recover, and that isolation had that same impact on them as it did on most of us, and the result was this extremely genuine album embodying nostalgia itself.

As a band they’ve always done such an incredible job of maintaining a theme throughout their album that is consistent without becoming repetitive. The song Dreamland does such a perfect job of pulling you into the album, easing you into a subdued album, fuzzy around the edges but clear once you can hone in on the details, on what’s being said, perfectly reflective of the theme it’s introducing you to. While it’s doing that it’s also providing a smooth shift from the last song on the album before it, HTBAHB. Agnes leaves that album off on such an extremely a somber, desperate, and lost note, which Dreamland picks up, just as lost in itself, taking off so beautifully from Agnes’ “You’re gone but you’re on my mind, I’m lost but I don’t know why,” and getting into the why. But it does so by warning you first, “You see in kodachrome, you see in pink and gold.” This album is distorted, it’s not right, the colors are wrong and everything is sweeter than it should be. At the same time, it sets up for the songs to follow, like “That worst thing you said” for It’s All So Incredibly Loud and “You were ten years old, holding hands in the classroom, he had a gun on the first day of high school” for Space Ghost Coast to Coast.It’s those vague, unconnected memories that you haven't quite grasped onto yet in full, but you know you’re going to get lost in them once you do. You’re stepping back from the overload of information and action today to visit who you used to be and what made you who you are now.

Right after it, Tangerine does something that Life Itself did for HTBAHB, it smoothened the general sound’s transition between albums. Just as Life Itself, with its beat similar to the album before its own could have fit into ZABA with no issue, Tangerine could have been on HTBAHB without disrupting the album. The “retro” vibe, the themes revolving around both the nostalgia of Dreamland and those of past relationships deteriorating because of missed opportunities and growing apart fits so well into both albums, it’s such a great transition from the past album to the current. The “I’m begging, hands knees please, tangerine” is also a common expression used (often as a double entendre) by them, again like in Life Itself, with its chorus being “Come back down to my knees, gotta get back, gotta get free, come back down to my knees, lean back now, lean back and breathe,” which just sets up for a really smooth callback to previous songs and album. Something else that Tangerine establishes is something that’s been a running theme with Glass Animals since ZABA: fruit. There is a lot of fruit here. It used to be a running joke that Glass Animals wasn’t actually a band, but a cryptic pineapple worshipping cult (no amount of music made will fool me, this is definitely a pineapple cult). This album uses fruit to remind you of the sugary sweetness of nostalgia, but there’s more history and, well, fan specific nostalgia that goes with that metaphor, too.

Hot Sugar is similar to a later song, Waterfalls Coming Out Your mouth, in that it’s about someone who is so cool that they aren’t actually cool. The person isn’t genuine, the idea of them isn’t actually them, but this was someone that you still want to be anyways, because who wouldn’t want to be that cool? The song doesn’t have much deeper meaning underlying it compared to some other’s because that depth doesn’t exist here, with this person. You know they’re “faking it,” but it doesn’t really matter beyond deciding if you actually like them or if you just want to be them, and the answer is the latter. This song is also similar to another, later song, Tokyo Drifting, introducing the listener to this person that he wants to be like, referencing “Hot rubber on the tar,” and setting the stage for the later song to tell you more about what he wanted to be like. Also, once again, through a mention of watermelon, fruit continues to be a recurring theme in the earlier tracks on this album, when the trip through nostalgic memories is still more sweet than bitter.

Right after we get introduced to this idea of who he wanted to be, we move onto what became of someone he knew closely, shared a lot with, and very suddenly lost touch with through Space Ghost Coast to Coast. The music itself is reminiscent of the music he listened to at the time. This song, being a telling of something that actually happened, is so authentic and raw in how it ends up, all still told through the layer of confusion, hurt, and again, that sweetness of nostalgia, with “You look bizarre in the apricot” establishing a deceptively sweet but confused tone over something heavy through yet another fruit metaphor. This song also manages to hit on other songs from the album when he tries to delve into why his friend did what he did, “Were you bored of gender norms,” matching with Dreamland’s “Go ask your questions like “What makes a man?”,” “… of being alone,” matching Heat Waves’ “I don’t wanna be alone, you know it hurts me too,” and “… no mama home, a bad divorce” matching pretty much the entirety of Domestic Bliss. Like Hot Sugar, this song sets up for Tokyo Drifting, with his idea of who he wants to be but isn’t, with “Remember when you stole mom’s old Geo Metro, you wore her old bathrobe, too small to see the road.” There’s also more blatant references being made to both past shooters (Black cap back with a trench coat, ay) and the arguments afterwards of what motivated them (Playing too much of that GTA, playing too much of that Dr. Dre). While he still wants to understand his old friend, and what happened for him to change so abruptly and dangerously, he does not want anything to do with him anymore. It’s a song about a loss of innocence and the understanding that sometimes you just won’t understand why someone does something. It’s just a complete banger in general.

Which then takes us to Tokyo Drifting, which absolutely slaps. The song itself revolves around what he wanted to be like, singing from a new persona rather than his own (Cane Suga from HTBAHB was done through the same persona). It breaks the pattern of referencing to fruit, instead focusing on drugs and alcohol, dropping the sickly sweet lens of nostalgia for something more fitting of the song’s specific theme. Don’t worry, though, dragonfruit was used extremely heavily in this songs promotion as a single, so the fruit is still there, just not directly, and that lack of directly referring to a fruit in the song itself fits with the way that the song breaks from nostalgia of things that have happened and people he knew into something that was never real. There is no rose colored glasses needed for something that never even happened. I don’t have much else to say on it, it just goes hard, this was my most listened to song two years in a row lmao.

Melon and the Coconut is just sheer Glass Animals. It’s weird, it’s fun, and it sounds great. It cleanly splits the album in half, splitting the POV’s straight down the middle while making a reference to its own position in the album, “Sometimes B-sides are the best songs.” Needless to say, there are some super subtle references to fruit in Melon and the Coconut, the song about two fruit.

Then, the second half of the album kicks off with Your Love (Deja Vu), a song extremely similar in theme to previous songs about missed timing, like ZABA’s Pools and HTBAHB’s Pork Soda. Instead of fruit, “juice” is mentioned in this song. It takes the turn from thinking about people you were friends with, what you wanted to be like, to people that you were with, and things that just didn’t work out.

And then there’s Waterfalls Coming Out Your Mouth. It’s such a clean parallel to looking back on things with nostalgia and seeing them through the fake sweetness that time brings, with this song being about the rose colored glasses that were present in the moment, the time when you start getting to know someone but you aren’t actually getting to know them, you’re getting to know this other, more impressive version of them instead, and they get the exact same experience of you on their own end. He’s letting this other person have their own version of him while he has his own version of them in his head, and he knows their version of him is wrong, so he also knows whatever he thinks of them is going to be wrong, too. He knows them, but at the same time he doesn’t. He’s realizing here, that this person, like the Hot Sugar person, is too cool, and they aren’t real, it’s all just talk, and it’s all fake like the “chemical warfare, red lips and television eyewear, raspberry soda hair, in the pool with a blow up gummy bear.” It’s sweet, sure, but it’s also fake. “Chat shit but where’s the real you? Never seen The Price Is Right, I’m a liar been on that shit since ’99. You make me look like a clown, clap clap, you’re a clever clever cookie now” has no right go that hard, and yet it Does.

Then, abruptly, we get to It’s All So Incredibly Loud. The song itself is subdued, it’s that point in your trip through your own memories where you remember why things went wrong. You get shaken from your train of thought and lose your place in it, because you aren’t there anymore, you’re here and you can’t go back, you can’t fix anything, all that’s left for you to do now is mourn the wrongs and accept them, even though its painful. This is remembering what Dreamland meant by “That worst thing you said,” the realization that you have to break someone else’s heart, and how much that hurts.

((home movie: rockets)) is the longest home movie audio in the album, and creates a smooth transition back into childhood, journeying back through a sound similar to that of their first album, ZABA, on the way there for the album to transition into Domestic Bliss. This time, with someone else entirely’s perspective falling back onto knees, but this time under an entirely different tone, “Fight for me. We can leave I’m begging, please, on my on my knees.” These two songs back to back continue the downward spiral that too much nostalgia can leave you falling into, the wrongs, the regrets, this trip down memory lane has lasted too long, now.

Which drops us off at Heat Waves, which returns back to his own perspective after Domestic Bliss focused on a friend of his. It fits the bittersweet feeling in nostalgia, the understanding and acceptance that you can’t go back, you just have to keep going forward and separate instead for everyone’s sake, a followup less to the tangent in thought that is Domestic Bliss, and more to It’s All So Incredibly Loud. It also wraps up those previous album’s songs, Pools and Pork Soda in a way, bringing a sense of closure to the nostalgic feelings, as well as to the entire album.

And finally Helium, the bookend opposite to Dreamland. This song flawlessly embodies that feeling of when you realize you’ve just been sitting and staring at a photo album for an hour now, and you finally take a look around you, feeling the air conditioning on your skin, hearing the sounds of the world around you, snapping back out of your train of thought and into real life again. Things didn’t work the way that you used to think they would, but that’s a good thing. It is such a perfect ending to the nostalgic journey that is this entire album. Fading back into the melody that started this journey of sickly sweet memories of people you looked up to, when you learned for the first time that people can change and you might not ever understand why, ideas of who you once wanted to be, finding something light that you can laugh about, realizing how similar so many things in your life have been to each other, the realization that the people you used to look up to might not have actually been that impressive the whole time, your regrets, times you wish you could have done more, and the understanding that sometimes you shouldn’t have done so much.

I love this album so much man

[beth--b]

Aches & Pains/Hot Water Bottle

For prompts 14 and 16 of @sicktember

It had been a long week.

It seemed like there had been a crisis every night and Spider-Man was needed to help the people of Queens even more than usual. He also had a ton of homework and assignments due, and he had the real Stark Internship that had been set up for him to go to a after school a few days a week.

Peter was exhausted and starting to feel run down.

It began with muscle aches. At first, he put it down to just being overworked, he had done a lot of heavy lifting this week. Not that he was usually bothered by heavy lifting, but everyone gets tired sometimes. By the time Friday afternoon rolled around he was aching all over and his head hurt. He felt like he could sleep for a week. But that wasn’t really an option. He couldn’t call in sick to his internship, Friday night was with Mr Stark in his personal lab and there was no way he wanted to tell Mr Stark he couldn’t come because of a few aches and pains.

So he kept his mouth shut.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/33945205

When Happy showed up after school he forced a smile on his face and started chatting until Happy eventually put the privacy the screen up. Once he was sure Happy was focused on driving and not on him, Peter relaxed back into the seat and tried to convince himself he was fine.

He made it to the lab and about 45 minutes into working on his web shooters when the headache he had been trying to ignore all day really started to distract him from his work. If he was honest with himself, he wanted nothing more than to relax, maybe with a nice hot water bottle for his aching muscles and something to eat.

Peter struggled to get his shooters back together before giving up and dropping the one he was working on down on the table with a sigh.

“Everything alright kid?” Tony asked, spinning his chair around and looking at Peter.

Peter nodded on auto pilot before stopping and shaking his head instead.

“Want to tell me what’s going on then? I can’t help you if you don’t speak up Pete.”

“I just feel kinda sore, like achy. My head hurts and I’m just so tired.” Peter looked up at Mr Stark expecting, well he wasn’t sure what he was expecting but it certainly wasn’t the reaction he got.

“Well then, let’s wrap this up for today. I’ll call May and let her know you are too tired to head back tonight, and you can crash here. There is plenty of space after all. Movie night with pizza sound good to you.”

Peter nodded. “That sounds fantastic. Any chance you have a hot water bottle?”

“Pete I’m a superhero who flies around in a metal suit, of course I have a hot water bottle.” Tony got up and gently guided Peter up and out of his chair. “Come on kid, let’s go get you comfortable. Even super spider kids get burnt out sometimes. You are juggling a lot and sometimes you just need to let your body get some rest.”

“Yeah, I think you’re right. A night off sounds great. And that hot water bottle sounds even better.”

Tony laughed and nodded his head. “Too right spiderling, let’s go. FRI be a dear and order us a few pizzas and get Star Wars ready to play in the penthouse.”

“Yes boss.”

With that they headed out of the lab, the lights turning off behind them.

[musehyacinthus]

Shoot Your Shot: Part 1

This is my first published work in over a decade, and I'm so excited to share it with everyone! Dash is my oldest and most treasured oc, and I'm so happy that I finally have the confidence to allow everyone else a peek into her life. This was originally supposed to be a short one shot, but is now going to be a 2(?) part series. I will hopefully be posting more work in the future that explores more of her background, as well as introducing some of my other oc's.

It was June, and the air was warm and sticky, which wasn’t ideal; the humidity made Dash’s hair all frizzy, and it always seemed to happen on a day when she wanted to make meringue.

This morning in particular, her eyes snapped open, bolting upright in her bed with a gasp. She had been having the most amazing dream, in which she was about to take a bite of the biggest, most beautiful lemon meringue pie she had ever seen. However, just as the fork reached her mouth, she woke up, returning to the sad reality where she did not have a mouth watering dessert in front of her. She smacked her lips, trying to recall what the pie had tasted like, but it was already gone. Tragic.

It was then that it dawned on her that she had the ingredients to bring that beautiful pie to life in the kitchen. In an instant, she rushed to her bedroom window. Maybe, if she was lucky, the weather would be on her side today. She pried open the window, a warm, thick breeze blowing against her skin. She groaned. No good; meringue wouldn’t peak in the humidity. No matter how good at baking someone is, they’re no match for mother nature. Pursing her lips, she pulled the latch shut, deciding to settle for banana bread muffins instead.

A couple of hours later, the muffins were nestled in her bag as she hopped off the trolley that crossed the Brooklyn Bridge.

“Thanks!” Dash chirped to the driver, exchanging waves with the man before she bounced away, not noticing the large, gray clouds looming on the horizon.

She clicked her tongue rhythmically as she walked, matching the beat to her steps and scanning the docks for her friend, Twitchy. The purpose of her trip had been to return a book he lent her, but he was nowhere to be seen.

A group of four other teenagers had gathered nearby at the edge of the docks, crouching in a large circle on the ground. Curious, she inched forward, craning her neck to see what was going on.

As she approached, she could see they were surrounding a long piece of brown string that was tied in a circle, surrounding a cluster of marbles.

Her heart skipped a beat. She was fantastic at marbles! She always kept her own pouch on her in case of a marble emergency, which happened more often than one might think.

Now that she was closer, Dash knew the kids to be Newsies like herself from her other visits to the borough. Among the group was a short, round faced girl with glasses and hundreds of freckles who Dash remembered was named Abigail. Her curly, brown hair was pulled back into two braids, her eyebrows knit with frustration as she gazed down at the ring. There was also a pale, skinny boy with sandy, blond hair and brown eyes that Dash didn’t recognize, and a tall boy with broad shoulders and dark hair standing just behind Abigail and watching the game intently. The way he hovered over her, he seemed almost like a bodyguard. What was his name again? Something with a chuh sound…. Chuck? No. Chatter! That was it! She remembered now, she found it funny the first time she learned it because Chatter really didn’t say very much at all. He was a friendly enough guy, but he seemed to like observing and listening more than he liked talking. He and Abigail seemed to always be around one another when Dash saw them, their significant height difference almost comical. Finally, Dash’s eyes rested on the figure closest to her with their back turned. Their brown cap was pulled down low on their face as they knelt on the ground, but she could recognize those bright red suspenders anywhere. He was at an angle where she could just see that was holding a red shooter in his hand, weaving it through his fingertips thoughtfully.

Dash’s feelings toward Spot were… mixed; she could never stop herself from riling him up, and the two would often butt heads due to their wildly different personalities. Spot took himself so seriously, and for the life of her, she couldn’t understand why. It frustrated her that he tried to make himself seem so high and mighty, and she knew the kids in Brooklyn respected him, but as far as she could tell, he was just… some guy. The way he constantly tried to have the attention of those around him was so silly, and just made him come off as a bit of a show off.

She hadn’t seen him do anything particularly intimidating, but the Newsies back in Manhattan would often go on and on about how nervous he made them. She just failed to see any real reason for their apprehension. Then again, she really hadn’t been living in New York all that long; his reputation had been around for a good while. Maybe they all knew something she didn’t.

In any case, as far as she was concerned, he was just a kid who wanted attention. That was fine, of course, but that didn’t mean she wasn’t going to tease him. It was fun to challenge him, and she found herself getting extremely competitive in his presence. Of course he wasn’t going to back down from a challenge.

Dash would come to Brooklyn every once in a while to exchange books with Twitchy, who she knew was pretty close with Spot. He never seemed to show any signs of being intimidated either, and was an even bigger culprit than she was when it came to pushing Spot’s buttons. He would go to great lengths to make him look silly, like the time he filled Spot’s pockets with bread crumbs and got the neighborhood pigeons to follow him around all day. There was also a time when he dressed up in the same clothes as Spot, and had bribed the other Brooklyn kids with candy to pretend that he was the real Spot for an entire day.

Dash watched as the boy she hadn’t recognized leaned forward, closing one eye and taking a deep breath. He flicked his thumb, his yellow shooter zipping forward and smacking into another large, purple marble. Both marbles rolled over the string, coming to a rest on the other side. The boy whooped with delight, and Abigail let out a cry of astonishment.

“That was a cheap shot, Sonny!” Abigail crossed her arms in front of her chest, staring daggers at the boy. “You know I just got that marble yesterday!”

“It ain’t my fault I got good aim!” Sonny grinned, shrugging and walking over to claim the purple shooter for himself. “Sorry, toots.”

Dash thought Sonny didn’t look all that sorry.

Abigail huffed, sitting back and crossing her legs.

“Fine, whatever. Your turn, Spot.”

Spot, who had been silent the entire time, was already leaning down to shoot his own red marble. He extended his arm, appearing as still as a statue as he aimed the little glass ball toward the center.

At that moment, an idea popped into Dash’s brain. Slowly, without making a sound, she crept up behind him, biting her lip to keep herself from giggling and giving herself away. Finally, just as Spot started to release the shooter, Dash exclaimed “HI, SPOT!”

The boy let out a rather undignified yelp and his hand jerked, the marble rolling into the ring and bouncing gently on one of the mibs. It hardly budged, and Spot’s shooter halted beside it. The other three Brooklyn newsies broke out into laughter, and Spot’s shoulders tensed, turning his head slowly to glare up at Dash.

Dash just smiled, waving down at him.

“Didn’t you hear me? I said hi.”

Spot grunted and rose to his feet, his hazel eyes narrowing at Dash. Despite his intense stare, her expression remained unchanged.

“I heard ya, I heard ya.” He grumbled, glancing her up and down. “You messed me up, y’know.”

“Golly, did I do that?” she feigned surprise, her eyebrows raising. “Whoopsie daisies. Can I play?”

“We’re in the middle of a game.”

“Actually, it’s just endin’!” Sonny chimed in from behind him with a smile. Spot glanced back and shot Sonny a look, who quickly clammed up.

“Aw, that’s okay.” Dash shrugged, adjusting her bag on her shoulder. “It’s no big deal, Spot’s just afraid that I’ll beat him at his own game.” she looked back to Spot, and she swore she saw his eye twitch.

“No. I am not.” He replied firmly.

“Are too.”

“Am. Not.”

“Are tooooo.”

“NO, I am-” Spot’s voice had grown higher pitched in the heat of the moment, but he quickly paused, giving a sideways glance at his Newsies who were all staring at them. He took a deep breath and cleared his throat, his voice now sounding much lower than it had a moment ago.

“Fine.” He said cooly.  “Fine, you wanna play? We’ll play. Clear the ring, Sonny.”

In a matter of moments, the ring was reset, thirteen mibs resting in the center in a cross. Dash fished her sack of marbles out from her bag, a little blue pouch that her father had fashioned for her out of some spare fabric. She had about a dozen shooters she had collected over the years, but there was a very special one she wanted to use for this occasion.

She rummaged around in the pouch for a moment before pulling up a shooter that was minty green and blue with little white swirls. Sonny whistled, leaning in to look at it.

“That’s real pretty.” He mused. Dash beamed, tossing it up in the air once and catching it.

“Thanks! It’s the first marble I ever won back when I was younger.”

Abigail raised an eyebrow. “You sure ya wanna use that thing, then? Seems pretty special to be usin’ in a game. Don’t wanna end up like me and have it taken from ya.” She glared pointedly at Sonny, who only grinned back at her innocently with large, doe like eyes.

Dash nodded. “Oh, yeah! This guy is my go-to shooter, he’s real lucky!” She held it up proudly, admiring the way the colorful swirls glistened in the light. “I’ve never lost a match with him!”

Spot was also staring at the marble, a ghost of a smirk tugging at his lips.

“Huh. Oh, well, it’s your funeral, girlie.” He stretched his arms over his head, shifting his gaze back to her. “You better say your goodbyes now, ‘cause that thing’s gonna be in my pocket real soon.”

Dash stuck out her tongue at him. She wasn’t nervous; her lucky shooter had never failed her before, and this game would be no different.

The two knelt on opposite ends of the circle, and the others sat off to the side as spectators. Spot motioned his hand toward her.

“Ladies first.”

Dash positioned herself in front of the ring with her shooter. Without any delay, she flung her marble forward, grinning at the satisfying clack it made as it smacked into one of the mibs, sending two of them rolling out of the ring. Dash whooped loudly, and Spot continued to watched in silence with a serious expression.

“Nice!” Abigail grinned.

Her shooter was still within the circle, which meant she was able to shoot her marble again from the inside the ring. She hummed, hopping to the other side and returning to her knees to the left of Spot. As she reached for her shooter, her shoulder briefly brushed against his. Spot jumped as if he had been shocked, scowling and moving a few inches to his right. Dash barely even noticed him, focused on finding the right angle to shoot her marble. She flicked it once more and the marble struck another mib, but it didn’t have as much force as the first hit. It rolled a few inches and stopped just before reaching the edge. Dash shrugged, flopping backward onto her behind. “Oh well. Your turn.”

Spot nodded, adjusting his cap. Dash saw him glance over at the other kids for a fleeting second, then returned his gaze to the marbles. He cracked his knuckles loudly, which Dash found rather unnecessary, and flexed his hands at his sides. He scooped up his red shooter, assuming the position. His eyebrows knit together and he bit his lip.

This was ridiculous; the longer she waited for him to make his move, the more restless she felt. She drummed her hands on her lap as she waited. After what felt like centuries, she couldn’t take it anymore.

“Can’t you go any faster?” She huffed.

“I’m focusin’.”

“Focus faster!” she urged.

Spot’s jaw clenched, still not looking at Dash. He exhaled, finally releasing his marble. It hit two mibs at once, sending them flying out of the circle in opposite directions. Sonny cheered loudly and Abigail nodded with approval while Chatter clapped politely beside her. The marble stopped right where it hit its mark, meaning it was still in play.

Spot grinned, clearly pleased with himself as he turned his attention back to Dash. She clapped, nodding slowly.

“That was great, yeah! Hey, at this rate, maybe we’ll have a winner by Thanksgiving!” she teased. Abigail let out a cough that Dash could have sworn was a laugh.

Spot’s grin snapped back to a scowl, squinting hard at her. Dash smiled back. Sometimes it was just too easy.

Spot closed his eyes briefly, regaining his composure. When he opened his eyes again, the look in his eyes had changed.

“Oh, I ain’t movin’ fast enough for ya?” he asked, stretching out his arms and making a big show of moving into shooting position once more. Slowly, he leaned forward, maintaining eye contact with her the entire time. “That’s no problem. I can go faster.”

He set his eyes on Dash’s lucky shooter, and before she could even process what was happening, he shot his red marble straight for it.

Dash’s eyes widened in horror, and she gasped as the shooter crashed into her minty blue sphere, causing it to roll right out of the ring.

Her heart sank, realizing what he had just done. She looked up at him in dismay and was met with a smug smile.

“Oh, would ya look at that? Seems like ya lucky marble ain’t so lucky no more.” He snickered. “Oopsie daisies.”

The other Brooklyn kids appeared stunned at what their leader had done, exchanging nervous glances with one another. Sure, he had joked about taking the marble, but it didn’t seem like they thought he would actually take it.

“Spot…” Abigail started, but Spot ignored her, plucking the shooter from the ground and rolling it across his palm as he stood.

“You were right, Abby. She shoulda listened to your advice, don’t’cha think?”

For a minute, Dash was speechless. Did that really just happen? Was he being serious right now?

Her shock quickly turned to rage. She rose and stormed up to him, lunging toward the marble.

“No! That’s not fair, you can’t-”

“What exactly ain’t fair here?” Spot interrupted, snatching it away and holding her prized shooter high in the air. “I ain’t no cheater, ask anyone here! I won this here marble fair and square!” He looked over at the others for confirmation, daring any of them to argue. “You all saw it, right? No rules broken, yeah?”

Reluctantly, the three nodded in agreement, which only fueled Dash’s anger. She grunted and jumped toward his raised hand in an attempt to grab it, but he stepped back, barking out a laugh.

“Better luck next time, short stuff!”

Dash grunted, jumping up and down as she tried snatch her marble. “Oh, that’s rich, coming from you! You’re barely three inches taller than me at most!”

“Still, it’s three inches you ain’t got!” he snickered. “I’m playin’ the game the way it’s s’posed to be played! When ya shoot your opponent’s marble outta the ring, you claim it! That’s the rule!”

They danced around one another, Dash hopping up toward his hand and Spot pulling away at the very last second. Dash could feel her cheeks burning. She grit her teeth and let out a loud groan. “Why are you being such a jerk?!” She exclaimed, taking another swing just as he jumped out of the way.  “You only shot at my marble to be mean!”

“I’m the jerk?” He scoffed, side stepping when she tried to snatch it again. “You’ve been pickin’ on me this whole time! ”

“Was not!”

“Were too!”

“WAS NOT!”

“WERE TOO!”

“Hey, now,” Chatter spoke up for the first time, stepping forward. His voice was deep and soft. “Maybe we should all calm down…”

But Dash didn’t want to calm down. She was fuming, her hands clenching and unclenching at her sides. Logically, she knew she shouldn’t be getting so worked up over a silly, little marble, but she couldn’t control it; she was livid! How dare he take something from her that he knew was special to her! How dare he hold it over her head and taunt her with it! The way he smirked down at her made her stomach bubble with anger. She wasn’t going to let him get away with this.

She lunged once more, but this time, she wasn’t aiming at his hand.

She reached for his head, plucking off the brown cap from his head in one quick swipe and scurrying backward with a triumphant “HA!”

Spot blinked in surprise, his free hand instinctively moving toward his head. His caramel hair was now in disarray, falling in wisps across his face.

“Ha ha. Very funny, girlie, give it back.”

“No.”

“Seriously? Dash, c’mon.”

Dash was already scooping up her bag of belongings and throwing it over her shoulder, a wild grin on her face. It was juvenile, sure, but it was the only thing she could think to do in the heat of the moment. She offered him a quick salute, then bolted from the scene of the crime, leaving a flabbergasted Spot behind her.

She was already halfway down the block before she heard an enraged bellow behind her:

“DAAAAASH!”

---------------------

End of Part 1

[spider-pxrkers]

flustered || peter parker x reader

summary: peter decides to flirt with the new avenger, y/n. he doesn’t expect her to flirt back and fluster him, making him realize he needs to get the upper hand.

request:  can you do a peter x flirty reader where at first peter is flirting buts the reader flirts back making him flustered?

a/n: the BIGGEST thank you to the loml @drusilla-as-in-blackthorn who helped and co-wrote this fic with me! she has some amazing fics, go check her out!

warnings: making out, sexual tones, swearing, sam and bucky being sam and bucky.

masterlist || co-writer ||  add yourself to my taglist!

i do not own any gifs used. all credits go to the original creator.

“Just be cool man. We practiced for hours, she’ll totally be into it.”

Ned’s voice echoed in Peter’s head like a tape stuck on loop as he entered the Avengers Compound. He puffed out his chest as he stepped into the elevator, trying to assert some sort of confidence within him to prepare himself for what he was about to do.

Steve had called for an Avengers training session today, which meant Peter got to see you again. He’d first met you during a robbery in Queens where he’d gotten tangled up. The thieves would’ve gotten away had you not shown up and ever since that day, he’d been in awe of you.

When he found out you were an Avenger too, he swore he felt his stomach do flips. His crush on you began shortly after meeting you those six months ago and is still very much there. For a while, Peter didn’t know what to do about it, but around two weeks ago Ned convinced the boy to go old school and try the one tactic ‘all the ladies loved’, and that was flirting.

He was skeptical at first, but he eventually figured he’d give it a try. And so Peter spent the whole of the night before googling pick-up lines and watching ‘flirting 101’ videos on YouTube in preparation for today. He was satisfied with his research and felt confident.

As the elevator doors opened, he took bold steps towards the rest of the team and waited for instructions from Steve. Not everyone had showed up, but you were there, leaning against a wall as your fingers mindlessly played with each other, your eyebrows furrowed as you listened to what Steve was saying. He felt his breath falter as he looked at you, you wore simple grey sweats and a ‘Stark Industries’ tank top. It was a simple outfit but for some reason Peter couldn’t take his eyes off of you. Your eyes eventually wandered towards the boy, noticing his stare. You gave him a light wink, causing his cheeks to stain red, his eyes immediately looking away.

After the briefing, Steve announced today’s training would consist of sparring in pairs. Peter silently pleaded as he grouped everyone together and he felt his heart jump when Steve announced he would be paired with you.

Everyone made their way over to their assigned partners and he watched as you walked up to him. He mentally prepared himself, taking a deep breath as you approached. He was ready.

“H-hey, Y/N.”

Shit.

He stuttered.

Why did he have to stutter?

He glanced up at you to see if you noticed but all he saw was an amused look in your eyes, as if you could somehow tell he was beating himself up. “Hey, Parker.” You grinned at him. “You ready?”

“I-” He sighed. “Yeah.”

The two of you got into your own individual sparring stances.

He could do this. He was a man of science and he had studied for this. How hard could it be to flirt with you? He had watched other members of the team flirt with each other enough to know that he could play it off as a joke if you didn't respond well. That, or he could throw himself out the window of the forty-sixth floor, whatever would be easier. 

You threw a punch at him and he dodged it, then another, then a kick. You were on the offensive side which was fine with him, he could do defense in his sleep. It gave him time to think about what to say. He had to do this right, mostly because he knew you had at least four knives on you but he was also really worried about embarrassing himself. 

 "Hey Y/N,” He let out as he parried away from a kick, recalling one if the lines he'd memorized. “If you're enjoying yourself here, I know other ways we could use this much energy." He ducked under another one of your high kicks and punched at your stomach. 

You hadn't even faltered in your attack so he wasn't sure if you had even heard him. "Yeah, I do too Spidey, but unfortunately Steve frowns upon people fucking on the sparring mats." You eyed him, the corner of your lips tugging up at his expression.  He faltered at your words, not expecting such a direct comeback, and you took the opportunity to crouch down and took his ankles out. Suddenly he was looking up at your smug expression from the floor with, what he knew, was a violent blush on his own face. "What's wrong Parker? Cat got your tongue?" You asked tilting your head to the side, a look of feigned innocence coating you. You sauntered away back towards the starting point and raised your fists, obviously waiting for him to join you. 

You had both been sparring for about an hour and since he wasn't allowed to use his web shooters, you happened to be winning - in both the sparring and the verbal back and forth. He didn't understand how you were doing it, everything he said, you countered with something equally as clever. He was grasping at straws at this point. "Y-you sure you're not tired Y/N? Cause you've been running through my mind all day." 

He was throwing hits in your general direction with no real heat. You actually laughed at that one, no wonder. "Nah, don't worry about me Parker. I can go all night." He sighed as you landed him on his ass for the third time in a row, he wasn't going to concede but you weren’t giving him much of a choice.

"I'm not a genie but I can make all your dreams come through." He groaned as he tried to get back up.

 "Yeah and that’s if I rub you hard enough?" You lightly moved your leg to push him back on the mat. When he went to stand back up, Steve shouted that everyone could take a break. He sighed. 

You and he walked side by side to the cooler where the water bottles were kept. He went over to his gym bag and saw that he had three missed calls from Ned. He dialed back.

"Hey man how's it going? You ask her out yet?" Ned sounded excited on the other line, Peter smiled, he loved his best friend so much.

"Nah, buddy it's not working.” He sighed into the phone before bringing his bottle to his lips. “Everything I throw at her she hits me back with something better. I think I should just give up."

"What do you mean?" 

"Well, earlier I said to her 'Hey can I borrow a kiss, I promise to give it back?' and she pinned me to the mat and said I could have as many as I liked." Peter replied, looking at you from the corner of your eye talking to Steve.

 "Wait, okay, no, so she's flirting back with you? That's a good thing isn't it?" Ned asked.

Peter thought about it and how smug you looked whenever you managed to knock him down. "I don't know Ned, I think she was just doing it to get the upper hand in training."

 "Well are you still training now?"

 "No we have a break just now for a bit."

 "Well,” Peter could practically hear Ned smile through the phone. “I would say kick it up a notch, hit her with something and if she says something suggestive back then act on it, kiss her or whatever."

 Peter watched you move back to your own gym bag, watched you reach down to put your bottle in it. He thought about just grabbing you and kissing you, he wanted to, really, really badly but what if you stabbed him, or worse, laughed at him? 

 "I don't know Ned, I think I'm just going to give up."��

"Well okay man, but you have my opinion." Peter almost winced at the distaste in his friend’s voice.

"Yeah, yeah, bye bud, love you."

 "Love you too." 

Peter hung up the call, sitting down and putting his head in his hands. He didn't know what to do, he wasn't the kind of guy who could just make a move on someone, and he didn't even know if you'd ever actually thought of him that way.

You were walking towards him, looking beautiful as always, a ray of light in a dark world "I must be in a museum, because you truly are a work of art." He said in almost a whisper.

But you heard him, you had a playful look in your eye. "Well if you wanna pin me up against the wall then go ahead." 

Something came over him, he didn't even think about what he did next. He shot a web out and grabbed you as soon as the words left your lips, faster than the eye could see. He twirled so you ended up braced against the wall with Peter pinning you down, one hand holding yours above your head, the other holding your hip down.

His legs braced yours, with his super strength, you couldn't move even if you wanted to. "Well if you insist." He mumbled, his eyes darting between yours and your mouth that was currently parted in.. shock?

He was waiting on you kicking and screaming, or at least coming up with a witty comment or a joke. What he wasn't expecting was a fierce blush to rise up your cheeks and your eyes to avoid looking into his. "I, eh, I, uh well, h-h-hi." You were stuttering, he had actually managed to fluster you. The same girl who’d been spewing filthy lines back at him a few minutes ago looked so small under his lock now.

He opened his mouth to say something before hearing someone clear their throat behind him. Your eyes widened as you looked over Peter’s shoulder at Steve and the rest of the team staring at the two of you while Peter’s gaze still remained on you.

You pulled out of his grip, side stepping and moving away, quickly walking back to the training mats. Peter’s arms dropped to his sides, his eyes never leaving the wall he just had you flustered against.

You avoided Peter for the rest of the session, opting to spar with Natasha while he trained with Sam. You stood opposite Nat, dodging and throwing as many hits as you could as your mind wandered. Moments ago he was the one blushing after everything you’d said, you were sure you had the upper hand. But after he held you like that, something snapped. You could still feel his fingers brushing against your hip and you cursed yourself for getting so flustered. At first you thought his flirting was cute and just for fun, but something about the way his eyes looked into yours made you think differently. Was he taking advantage of you?

Or did he actually like you?

Training ended and you quickly gathered your things, darting out of the room. You made your way into the corridor to your room before hearing footsteps after you.

“Y/N, wait up!”

You silently cursed as you sped up your pace, walking into your room and turning to close the door before a foot appeared, halting it. You looked up to see Peter place a hand on the door as he tried to push it a bit more for him to enter. You placed your hand on the other side trying to close it. “Go away, Peter.”

“Look,” he pushed at the door harder but was met with you pushing back with equal force. “Listen I’m sorry if-” You pushed back again. “Sorry if I- would you stop?” He finally sent a stronger push this time, successfully opening the door and stepping in. You backed away from him, dropping your bag figuring he wouldn’t be leaving anytime soon.

He shut the door behind him as he made his way over to you. “I’m sorry if I crossed a line back there, I just wanted to-”

“Why did you do it?” You asked, crossing your arms.

“Wh-why did I do what?”

You scoffed at him. “I don’t know flirt with me? Pin me against the fucking wall in front of the team?” You shook your head at him. “What? You think it’s fun messing with people like that?”

Peter’s stance grew defensive. “You flirted back!”

“Yeah, ‘cause I thought we were fooling around! Not that you actually-” You stopped yourself from finishing your sentence. You couldn’t do it, you couldn’t admit your feelings to him, that you actually thought he liked you back.

He seemed notice your uneasiness however, walking closer to you. “Not that I what, Y/N?” His tone was softer now, almost warmer as he now stood directly in front of you. His brown eyes bore into yours as your eyes wandered around his face, looking for any sign of insincerity.

You shook your head as you moved to walk away from him. Instead, you felt his fingers wrap around your wrist, pulling you into him as he kissed you. His arms moved to wrap around your waist, pushing you backwards until your back hit the wall by your bed with a thud. Your eyes widened before relaxing at his touch, your arms gripping his hair and neck. You felt his teeth nip your bottom lip before down to your jaw and eventually to your neck, where you let out a whimper as he began sucking on your skin, earning a smile against on your neck.

Your hands left the curls in his hair and trailed down his chest to dip under his shirt and pull it over him before discarding it to the floor. His lips reattached to your collarbone as his hands slipped down your hips to your legs, hoisting you up to wrap around him. He kissed back up your neck to your mouth where you moaned as his tongue met yours, moving you away from the wall and laying you on your bed. His forearm found its place by your head, holding him up as his other hand held you by the side. Your legs wrapped around his waist, pulling him closer as he lay above you, the two of you caught in your make-out session as if you were the only two people in the world.

You finally pulled away after what seemed like forever, your chests connecting as you tried to catch your breath. A light smile found his face as his hands moved to cup your cheek, studying your shut eyes and now swollen lips and tangled hair while you lay under him.

“I was stupid,” he breathed out causing you to open your eyes and meet his. His fingers continued to tug at the corner of your mouth. “I thought these stupid pick-up lines would..” He trailed off as he gently shook his head, a small laugh escaping him. “Would finally make you like me back.”

You softly laughed at him, your fingers drumming against his bare chest. “Well it worked didn’t it?”

He chuckled as he leant down to press a kiss to the tip of your nose.

“Yeah, yeah it did.” He leaned back in to kiss you again.

“Hey Y/N, Nat wanted to know if you were- holy shit.”

The two of you turned to look at Sam at the door, his eyes widening at the sight before him before a grin covered his face. “Well I hope I’m not interrupting anything.” He said smirking as he leant against the doorway. Peter’s cheeks turned red as he pushed off of you, reaching to get his shirt.

You got up and glared at the man, clearly annoyed. “What do you want Wilson?”

Sam smirked at you as he laughed. “Oo, she ain’t takin’ it too well. Hey, Bucky!” He called out.

“Oh my god.” You pinched the bridge of your nose as Peter put his shirt back on, a light smile finding his face as he glanced between the two of you.

Sam kicked off the wall before winking at you, walking back down the corridor. You could still hear his voice as he walked off. “You owe me fifty bucks sergeant!”

Peter laughed as he reached his hand down to yours, pulling you up. “You alright?” He asked.

"Yeah, I'm good." You nodded your head as you smiled walking out of the room with him before clearing your throat. "After damage control,” you said gesturing with your head to the kitchen where Sam now gathered the entire team while your hands gently tugged at the waistband of his pants. “What do you say you and I pick up where we left off?” He froze as he stared at you, his eyes widening. You grinned at him before pressing a kiss to his cheek and pulling away, skipping down the hall and leaving a very very flustered Peter Parker behind you.

[rametarin]

Speaking of the 70s.

As a child, I absolutely hated media from the 60s and 70s. Whether it was cheesy shit or the real edgy shit. With rare exception.

It just had this aura of smug or cynical activism. Like, you get in a car and there’s a frowning person in the back seat grumbling under their breath sarcastically over everything you say to segue about pollution or general hatred “society” exhibits or nuclear war or something.

I despised it. I used to think, “I’m so glad that we in the late 80s/early 90s are passed that point, because the 60s and 70s was full of protests and vitriol and anger and riots! Glad everything is nice now.”

And for the most part it was. That shit played itself out as people graduated college, got jaded to the rhetoric, hit the bottoms of the ideological rabbitholes, grew up, disseminated wisdom to the younger that dissuaded them from the excesses of their romantic ideologies, and they settled in to raise families and for the most part just be nuclear families and perpetuate for the next gen.

And the 90s they kinda-sorta tried to bring the 70s back with the cynical dark edge and muttering but it was more real and disaffected this time, so they ignored the mumbling provocateur type and out darked and edgied them while doing nothing. Except learning computers and how to hack, and shit.

It didn’t have anywhere NEAR as much respect or attention paid to it. Though it did have the underground and swept the sails of LGBT activism. So, it concentrated efforts there.

But the ‘10s, we’re back to a bunch of fist medallion waving socialists screaming about liberating minorities and calling for the abolition of capitalism. Screaming matches and arguments by delirious people picking and choosing the language, the environment and the subject of arguments so just to engage them you need to unpack them and have limited maneuverability to argue. So, they’re messy, slanted and more obnoxious than ever.

I’m just happy that kids today have the internet. The internet and social networking has made it easier than ever, if one really looks, to find contrarian facts and news and have it pass by their faces. Whether it’s endorsed by the establishment, or not. So while they’ll definitely see news blurbs of Kyle Rittenhouses being depicted as a heartless mass shooter that was there for no reason, they’ll also get eyewitnesses, boots-on-the-ground camera footage and other things from those that were there.

They’ll get the romantic heroic tales told by progressive activists of antifa by themselves, as well as the unflattering footage of things like cringy protesters all drugged up calling black cops niggers and traitors and hitting random people with their ugly flags, and taking up entire sidewalks to only let women and non-whites pass.

I loathed 70s media because it was just so discordant and very perceptibly tarnished by the distress of the era. And I dread the sort of shit people born or coming into cognoscence after this era will think of the 2010s-20s.

[wellimaginethat]

Close Call

Pairing: Matt Casey x (female) Reader

Requested?: Yes

Word Count: 3355

Author’s Note: So I know this isn’t exactly what the request asked for, I did include how they met and started dating, but I did so in the form of flashbacks and I hope that’s okay.

Trigger Warning(s): Reader got shot, near death experience

Disclaimer: I don’t owe nor am I affiliated with any of the Chicago shows, I just like to play with the characters

Summary: Reader is a cop and gets shot while on the job, causing her longterm boyfriend, Matt, to worry about her and think back on when they first met.

Y/N = Your Name

This wasn’t how you expected your Tuesday to go, but did anything ever go as you planned?

What had seemed like it would be a simple arrest of a suspect turned out into a full blown shootout, resulting in you taking a bullet to the lower left abdomen. You were doing okay for a while, Jay managed to pull you out of the line of fire and get you behind a car, but you were bleeding a lot.

Jay was shooting at the shooters before leaning down to check on you, the look on his face said it all, he was panicking. “You’re gonna be okay, we’re gonna get you out of here, just stay awake.”

“Don’t lie to me.” You barely managed to get out, you were feeling dizzy from the blood loss and your vision was starting to blur.

The last thing you heard before slumping over was a string of curses coming from your partner.

When the call came in for ambo, something in Matt’s gut told him something wasn’t right, and he immediately began to worry about you. Usually he didn’t, but something just didn’t seem right today.

As soon as he got word of what happened to you, he raced over to the hospital.

The two of you met just after you had transferred to Intelligence, barely a year after you had moved to Chicago. You got roped into going out for drinks with your new teammates and that’s how you ended up in Molly’s on that fateful night.

It was nearing two years ago now that you had gone up to the bar, trying to find an empty spot to order another drink, but that was hard considering it was a pretty busy night.

So you decided to try to squeeze in between two complete strangers, one of which bumped into you and practically knocked you into Matt’s lap. He had been taken by surprise but had wrapped his arms around you to keep you from toppling to the floor.

“I’m so sorry!” You quickly told him as you stood up, you could see your teammates out of the corner of your eye, snickering at you. You shook your head some, cheeks heating up.

“It’s all good.” Matt assured you with a slight chuckle.

“I’m really sorry, I was just trying to get a drink and um, yeah.” You glanced away, rubbing the back of your neck. “Sorry.” You mumbled again as you began to walk away.

“You didn’t order your drink.” Matt had reminded you.

You stopped and looked at him, pausing for a bit longer than you should have before responding. “Oh, um, yeah.”

Matt raised a brow at you, trying not to let on how amused he was but you could see it in his eyes. He beckoned you over.

You walked over to resume your spot standing next to him.

“Matt Casey.” He offered out his hand.

You smiled a bit and shook his hand. “Y/N Y/LN.”

“Nice to meet you, Y/N.” Matt smiled at you.

“Likewise.” You told him and ordered your drink when the bartender came over.

“I got that, Herrmann.” Matt told him.

“Oh no, no, you don’t-” You were stopped when Matt looked at you, so you smiled. “Thank you, but you didn’t have to do that.”

“I know, I wanted to.” Matt told you with a smile, taking a drink of his beer.

The two of you ended up talking until the bar closed, at which point you bid him goodbye, but not before giving him your number.

Had you not had liquid courage running through your veins, you probably wouldn’t have given him your number, and the next day you were kicking yourself because you thought you made a fool of yourself. You honestly didn’t think he’d get ahold of you, but he ended up calling you later that day and asked you out on a date.

After that, dates became a regular thing for the two of you, and next thing you knew, you were spending almost all your free time together.

It didn’t take long for the two of you to become exclusive, not that either of you had been seeing anyone else, but the two of you made it official.

Matt and you had one of those easy relationships, it was just so easy to be yourselves with the other, not having to act a certain way or worry about the other judging you. You guys didn’t fight often, but when you did it was usually a small fight over something stupid and you would make up within a day, in the two years the two of you had been together you had only ever had two major fights, but you guys worked them out.

Matt paced back and forth in the waiting room, waiting for any word on your condition. As soon as they got you to the hospital, you were taken straight to the OR for surgery. It had already been an hour and he was insanely worried about you, and it just got worse and worse as time paced.

Jay was sitting in a chair in the same waiting room, elbows on his knees, hands clasped together, and head hung down. He blamed himself for what happened. You were his partner and he was supposed to have your back.

Hailey took a seat next to him. “Hey, what happened isn’t your fault.” She tried to assure him in a soft voice.

Jay shook his head to her, looking at her but not exactly focusing on her because his mind was replaying what happened. “I should’ve seen the shooter.”

“Neither of you had any idea that was gonna happen.” Hailey told him gently.

Jay shook his head. “Doesn’t matter, I should’ve been more aware of our surroundings, if I had then she’d be fine.”

“Stop.” Matt told him, stopping in his tracks to look at Jay. “You and I both know damn well that Y/N wouldn’t want you to blame yourself.” There was pain in his eyes, but his voice was firm.

Jay paused for a moment before nodding to him, although it didn’t really change anything and everyone knew that.

Everyone in that room was worried about losing you. They all loved you, both CPD and CFD alike. And everyone knew that if something were to happen to you, while it would hurt everyone, the two that would hurt the worst would be Matt and Jay.

Your relationship escalated quickly when Matt asked you to move in with him after only six months, but you were convinced this was the real deal, so you had said yes.

“Are you sure you wanna do this?” You had asked him for probably the millionth time.

Matt chuckled and nodded. “Yes, I’m sure.”

“But are you really sure?” You asked him.

“If you don’t wanna-” You were quick to cut him off.

“I want to. I just want to make sure you want me to.” You answered him.

Matt nodded. “I want you to.”

“But are you sure?” You asked again.

Matt huffed a laugh and pulled you into his arms. “I’m sure.” He said softly before pressing a tender kiss to the side of your head. “Now shut up before I change my mind.”

You scoffed in mock offense. “Rude.” You told him, causing him to laugh.

Slowly you began moving your stuff there, which ended up taking three months because of your schedules and the fact that you were still unsure.

“Alright. This is the final box.” You said, standing just outside the apartment door holding a cardboard box that had the last of your clothes in it.

“Should I do a drumroll?” Matt asked with a grin, turning to face you.

You smirked. “Well it would be nice.” You answer him, causing him to shrug and walk over to the wall and give you a makeshift drumroll as you stepped over the threshold. “There. I’m officially moved in completely.” You informed him.

Matt grinned as he walked over to you, taking the box and setting it to the side before turning to you again. He wrapped his arms around your waist and pulled you close before kissing you. “You’re not moved in until we unpack the boxes.” He spoke lowly after pulling back.

You groaned. “Well that’ll probably take another three months.” You joked.

Matt chuckled and shook his head. “Don’t count on it.”

You hummed and shrugged. “Maybe sooner.”

“Definitely sooner.” Matt replied, his arms still around you.

It ended up taking only two weeks to unpack, and settling in ended up going a lot smoother than you thought it would.

By the time Dr. Marcel walked into the waiting room, everyone was on edge and fearing the worst even if they weren’t saying it.

Matt had practically worn out the floor from where he was pacing, unable to remain calm as he waited for any news. He immediately stopped when he saw Dr. Marcel in the entryway.

Jay was out of his seat and standing beside Matt, waiting for the news.

Everyone’s eyes were on Dr. Marcel, everyone waiting for an update on your condition.

“She’s stable, the bullet hit an artery and she lost a lot of blood, but we were able to repair the damage and give her a transfusion.” Dr. Marcel informed them. “She’s in recovery right now, then she’ll be moved to ICU. She’s stable but not completely out of the woods, though I am optimistic.”

Matt nodded. “Thank you, Dr. Marcel.”

“You’ll be able to visit her after they get her settled.” Dr. Marcel added before leaving the waiting room.

Everyone was immensely relieved after hearing that you had made it out of surgery and that you were in a stable condition, but they were still worried that something could go wrong and that they would lose you.

After you were moved to ICU, your friends were informed that two people could visit you at a time.

Matt headed out of the waiting room before looking at Jay. “Are you coming?”

Jay hesitated before shaking his head. “Nah, you go.”

“They said two people could be in the room at a time.” Matt said, nodding towards the door. “And you know she’ll be crushed if you aren’t there when she wakes up.”

Jay again hesitated, but only for a second before nodding and following Matt. He hated hospitals, but he’d do anything for you, which included spending all damned day in that awful place.

When they walked into your room, the breath was knocked out of both of them.

Sure, they both were expecting you to look rougher than usual, but neither of them had quite prepared themselves to see you in the hospital bed, complexion paler than usual, and a bunch of tubes and monitors hooked up to you to provide you with meds and to monitor your heart and blood pressure.

The sight of you completely broke Matt’s heart, but he stepped in and took a seat in one of the two chairs in the room.

For Jay it nearly sent him running from the room, he hated seeing the people he cared about in the hospital, especially when they were in bad shape, and you were no different. He would’ve given anything to switch places with you. He was still blaming himself for your situation, he kept thinking about how he should have been more aware of what was going on and that he should have been able to prevent this. He slowly took a seat in the other chair.

“It’ll probably be hours before she wakes up.” Jay commented after a while of sitting in almost complete silence, if it hadn’t been for the beeping of the monitors.

Matt nodded some, his eyes fixated on you. “Probably.”

Neither of them talked for a long time after that. Jay had resumed his sitting position from the waiting room, back arched and looking down at the floor, elbows resting on his knees and hands clasped together.

“She’s going to kick your ass.” Matt told him suddenly.

This caused Jay to sit up some and looked over at Matt, his back and neck were starting to grow sore from how he was sitting. “What?”

“When Y/N finds out that you’re blaming yourself, she’s going to kick your ass.” Matt told him, tearing his eyes away from you to look at your partner. “You know damn well she will.”

Jay shrugged. “Or maybe she’ll agree with me.”

Matt frowned at him and shook his head. “Now you’re just being childish.”

Jay frowned now. “I am not being childish, I’m being realistic. If I had seen the gunman, I could’ve gotten us out of the line of fire and she wouldn’t be fighting for her life right now.” He was starting to get upset, and no matter how much he tried to remain calm, it was tough, especially given the situation.

Matt shook his head. “You know she’s not going to see it that way.”

“You don’t know that.” Jay practically spat at him, standing up out of the chair.

Matt remained calm as he looked at Jay. “Calm down.”

“Don’t tell me to calm down when you’re the one that’s angering me.” Jay said pointedly, his voice raising a little and he pointed a finger at Matt.

“Guys please stop fighting.” You rasped out, your eyes shutting even tighter before you opened them. “My head hurts.”

The two of them immediately stopped and looked to you before they were both at your side, looking down at you.

“You’re awake.” Jay commented quietly.

“Mhm.” You tried clearing your throat which just sent a dull jolt of pain through your chest, causing you to wince.

“Are you okay?” Matt was quick to ask you. “I’ll get the doctor.”

“No, I’m fine.” You reached out to grab him but your movements were slowed due to your injury and the pain meds running through your system. “What the hell were you two fighting about?”

“Doesn’t matter right now.” Matt told you, Jay nodded in agreement. “What matters is that you’re alive and awake.”

You smiled weakly at the two of them. “And that my two favorite men are here with me, that matters too.” You told them.

They both smiled softly at you and nodded.

Jay took your hand in his and squeezed it gently. “I’m sorry.” He told you softly.

You shook your head some. “Don’t.” You told him, voice still hoarse. “It isn’t your fault.”

Matt glanced at him briefly in an ‘I told you so’ manner, before looking back at you. “I’m going to go get the doctor, I’ll be back in a second.” He told you softly, kissing your forehead before stepping out of the room.

“I should’ve seen him.” Jay said quietly, looking down at your hand in his. “It’s my fault you got shot.”

“Did you shoot me? No. So therefore, it’s not your fault.” You replied to him. “And if you say otherwise, I’m gonna kick your ass...as soon as I can, that is.”

That caused him to smile and nod. “Yeah, okay. You couldn’t kick my ass before, what makes you think you’ll be able to kick it now?”

“Well I figured you’d let me, given the fact that I got shot and all.” You replied, smirking.

“Nah, that’s not how it works.” Jay told you.

“No?” You asked.

Jay shook his head. “Nope, we don’t take it easy on rookies who get themselves shot.”

You stifled a laugh and huffed. “I am not a rookie anymore, Halstead.” You told him pointedly.

He smirked at you. “Oh you’re not a rookie anymore?”

“Nope.” You shook your head some. “I’m not.”

“Yeah okay, rookie.” Jay replied, still smirking.

“Shut up.” You rolled your eyes.

He moved back when the doctor came in to check you over.

Over the next few days, you were completely fussed over by practically everyone, especially Matt.

When you were finally able to leave the hospital a week later, he didn’t let you do anything.

“Matt, I’m fine.” You tried to tell him after he had scolded you for attempting to make lunch, you would have successfully made the frozen pizza if he hadn’t caught you taking it out of the freezer and forced you to sit down on the couch.

“The doctor said it would be a while before you were back to normal.” Matt reminded you, not that you needed reminding.

“Yeah, and he meant normal as in doing what I was doing instead of being stuck at a desk.” You huffed. “He didn’t mean that I wouldn’t be able to take care of myself.”

“I’m not taking any chances.” Matt replied simply, causing you to narrow your eyes at him. “Glare at me all you want, Y/N, but I’m not risking you hurting yourself worse than what you are.”

You huffed and crossed your arms.

He ended up being right though, about you needing to take it easy, because later that same day you were trying to do for yourself when you moved wrong and pulled at your stitches, causing you to yelp in pain and fall to your knees.

Matt was by your side in a flash, kneeling next to you with a worried look as his hands ghosted over you, not wanting to touch you in fear of causing you more pain but also wanting to help in any way he could. “What happened?” He asked, fear and panic in his voice.

You couldn’t even talk yet the pain was that bad, you just pointed over at the laundry basket while still clutching at your side.

Matt sighed in disappointment before looking back at you, his expression still worried. “Do I need to take you to the hospital?”

You shook your head quickly. “No…” You managed to get out. “No hospital…’m fine.” You mumbled.

“You don’t exactly seem fine.” Matt remarked but carefully helped you stand when you were ready.

You got over to the couch, still holding your side in pain but it wasn’t as bad.

Matt sighed softly and took a seat next to you, placing his hand on your knee. “Please stop pushing yourself.”

You didn’t respond to him, just stared at his hand on your knee.

“Please.” He repeated.

You sighed softly, still staring at his hand. “I just don’t wanna be a burden.” You admitted quietly.

Matt moved his hand before shifting so that he could look at you, gently cupping your face to get you to look at him. “You aren’t a burden, Y/N.”

“Yeah I am, if I can’t take care of myself and help out around here, that means you have to do it, so therefore I’m a burden.” You said sadly, your eyes not meeting his.

Matt shook his head. “Look at me.” He said softly and waited until you finally met his eyes. “You aren’t a burden. This is what people in loving, happy relationships do. They take care of each other, especially when one is hurt or sick. You’ve taken care of me plenty of times, remember when I got the flu and could barely get out of bed?”

“That was different.” You said, even though you weren’t exactly sure how.

Matt shook his head again. “No, it wasn’t. We take care of each other because we love each other. You’re not being a burden, you could never be a burden.”

You felt tears sting your eyes and had to look away, sniffling.

Matt carefully wrapped his arms around you while being mindful of your side.

You leaned into him and wrapped your arms around him. “I’m sorry.” You whispered.

“For what?”

“For all this. Getting shot, being a baby about it, not listening.”

Matt snorted a laugh. “Do you ever listen?”

You couldn’t help but smile. “No, but you know what I mean.”

Matt kissed the top of your head. “You don’t have to apologize for any of that.”

“Then what do I have to apologize for?” You asked softly.

“Nothing.” Matt replied softly.

[jpegjade]

1950 - Spencer

SO WE HAVE THE SURPRISE/UNPLANNED FIC! Thank you to the lovely anon who sent in the bones for this one and I just gave it the little legitimates (get it? ligaments?) it needed to move. 

Based off the song 1950 by King Princess

Warnings: there is a knife in here and a stabbing (but i kinda gloss over it) so if that makes you uncomfortable, feel free to skip that paragraph or the fic altogether. no worries!

________________

“How did we end up with two geniuses on the same team?” Morgan said, watching you and Spencer walk out of the elevator. 

Spencer smiled and looked over at you. He thought you might have an answer but you came up with nothing. 

“We’re just that lucky!” Garcia said, passing the three of you. She always seems to come out of nowhere. 

“What’s the age difference here?” Morgan motioned between the two of you. 

“Basically two or three months.” You said, guessing based on when you guys last celebrated Spencer’s birthday. 

“It’s exactly 2 months, 4 days, 12 hours and 3 minutes. I can tell you the exact mileage from our hospitals, if you’re interested in that.” Reid said, following you. 

“I think I’ll pass.” Derek said before walking away. 

You and Spencer headed in the direction of your desks, which happened to be across from each other. You looked at the fresh stack of cases on your desk and sighed. 

“Hey, y/n,” someone called, causing you to snap your head up. 

“Oh.” You were disappointed to see someone standing between you and your view of Spencer. 

“I was wondering if you thought about my proposition.” You tried to remember the guy’s name. It definitely started with a J. 

“The only thing I’ve thought about this morning is the fact that I forgot to get a coffee on my way here.” You said, being completely serious. 

“Yeah well, if you-” The guys started again, only to be cut off. 

“I brought coffee.” Spencer to the rescue, yet again. 

He put the coffee on your desk and smiled at you. Spence was a mind reader for sure. It smelled heavenly and you were so excited to finally have something to help you wake up today. 

“Hey, John.” Spencer said, giving that weird smiling thing he did when he was uncomfortable but still had to interact with people. 

See? You knew it had a J in it. John backed away under Spencer’s awkward gaze. 

“Y/n, Hotch wants us upstairs.” Spencer said holding his hand out to help you up from your chair. You were perfectly capable of doing so by yourself but he just wanted to be a gentleman. 

“You’re always saving me, you know that?” You said, taking a sip of your coffee. 

“Saving who from what?” JJ said, seeing the two of you enter the closed off area. 

“Spencer’s always saving y/n from the guys in the office and all of the officers asking her out.” Morgan said, reclining in his chair. He was clearly amused by your constant predicament. 

“Well, Spencer gets propositioned by every prostitute he meets.” Hotch said, still straight faced but you saw a hint of a smile there. 

“I’m just waiting for someone special. I don’t know what you’re waiting for though.” You said to Spencer, who blushed and smiled. 

“All right my brilliant kitties. We have a case.” Penelope worked the remote, showing a particularly horrible kidnapping and murder case. 

“And that’s why you will be heading to Miami.” Garcia said, flipping off the screen. 

“Wheels up in 20.” Hotch said, walking out of the room. 

You went to your desk to grab you in-flight entertainment while Spencer and Derek stayed back. They looked like they were talking and you wished you could be a fly on the wall. You always wished you could be wherever Spencer was just so you could be close to him. 

“What do you think they’re talking about?” Garcia asked, making you jump. 

“Probably the case.” You said, trying to act like you weren’t imagining them talking about you. 

“Probably.” Garcia winked at you as she walked back to her office. 

The flight was pretty smooth. The best part was sharing a row with Spencer. The worst part came when you were embarrassed to wake up with your head on his shoulder. But it got better when you realized that he was leaning on you too, completely asleep. 

“All right, lovebirds. Time to fly.” Rossi said, gently shaking the two of you awake. You and Spencer shared a sleepy glance between you before you both stumbled out the plane. 

The crime scene was horrible. Working the case was long and difficult, even though you were more than prepared. Out of everyone, you were able to predict the unsub’s next steps the most accurately. Even Spencer wondered how you were almost in step with the unsub but he put it to something in your past, and he was right. But that didn’t matter because right now? The two of you found yourselves in front of the unsub. Well… The unsub was holding you hostage while Spencer tried to talk him down. 

“You don’t have to do this. You can let her go before anything happens.” Spencer breathed slow, trying not to panic. 

“Isn’t she pretty? She’s so pretty. I can add her to my collection. She will be better than the rest.” The unsub was so far out of it, you knew there was no talking him down. 

“She’s very pretty. But no one can see how beautiful she is if you kill her. Put the knife down.” Spencer said. You were scared but you caught that he called you beautiful. You wondered if he meant that of if he was just playing into the fantasy...

“Spence. You have to do it.” You said. 

Knife poised to stab you through the stomach, just big enough to ruin so many different vital organs. You watched Spencer calculate where to wound you to at least hurt the unsub. He was no sharp shooter, and you both knew that, but you trusted him. There was no clean way for you to get out of this situation. Spencer’s mind was short circuiting and then it happened. You grabbed the knife and plunged it forward, dropping to your knees fast enough for Spencer to take the shot. 

Spencer immediately ran to you, terrified. The pain was like nothing you have ever felt before. You couldn’t believe you did this to yourself but you knew it was the right decision. You had to do it so Spencer didn’t take anything to heart as his fault. 

“Y/n…” Spencer said, reaching his hand out to hold yours. He intertwined your fingers and you smiled. He just needed to make sure you knew he was there.

“Spencer Reid, it took me getting stabbed for you to make a move?” You chuckled and immediately regretted it. The pain ran through you again and Spencer winced. 

“I’m so sorry. I don’t… I thought you were going to turn me down. You always said you were waiting for someone special and…” Spencer read your expression, confused. 

“No, you dumbass. I was waiting for you.” You smiled one more time. 

“No, don’t do that. You have to stay awake. The team is almost here and…” Spencer was so scared. 

“Chill. I’m not dying. I refuse…” You said, opening your eyes again. You didn’t want him to worry but you were just as scared as he was. 

“I didn’t even get to kiss you yet…” He said, trying his hardest not to cry. 

“Spence. I’ll make you a deal. When I wake up, if you still want to kiss me, I’ll say yes and you can kiss the hell out of me. Okay?” You said it with your last bit of strength. You had lost too much blood. Everything ran cold and you passed out. 

Spencer was terrified. Once the medics came in and got you to the hospital, he was having flashbacks, reminders of what happens when he gets close to people. He had hope during his conversation with Morgan that morning, when they decided that Spencer would ask you on a date when you got back, and look what happened. You could die and he couldn’t do a damn thing but hold your hand. He was scared that if he moved you, the knife might cause more damage with the movement. He wished that he wasn’t so useless sometimes. 

“Kid. Look at me. She’s going to be fine. Ride with her to the hospital, we’ll be right behind you.” Morgan said. 

Everything was touch and go for so long. You were in surgery for hours and whenever Spencer thought he was done crying, he had more sobs left in him. Finally, when they announced you could have a single visitor, everyone agreed Spencer should go first. 

“Hey…” You said, a tired smile on your face. 

“Hey.” He responded, leaning on the doorframe, hands in his pockets. 

You knew his sihloette by heart, especially that hair. 

He noticed that your heartbeat was faster than it should be. 

“Are you okay? Your heart is beating faster than it should be. Do I need to call a nurse?” He said, barely audible. 

“I’m fine.” You said, “They patched me up real good. Also gave me hits of morphine. But that doesn’t matter because you’re the only drug I need.” You said. Spencer knew you were out of it so this wasn’t the right time to kiss you. 

He walked into the room, pulling the chair next to your bed. You put your hand in his hair and smiled. 

“Hey cutie.” You said before falling asleep again.

It was a painful 2 weeks when you were on bed rest. Only one case had come up that needed traveling and even then, they skyped you to make sure you were up to date. 

The day you came back, the doctor had specific instructions for things you weren’t allowed to do but you were in the clear. Hotch put you on Garcia duty, meaning you were only allowed to help out Garcia on cases until he considered you ready to go out in the field again. You weren't happy about it but at least you were in the building again. 

Garcia was in the middle of presenting the next case when you slipped in the room. You almost did it quietly until Garcia turned to the group and squealed at the sight of you. Everyone turned and was happy to see you. 

You were about to take your seat next to Spencer when you noticed he was missing. You took a couple steps inside so you could get to your seat when all of a sudden you heard your name tumble out of Spencer’s mouth, like he was seeing a ghost. You turned to see him walking into the room.

“Hey wonder boy.” You smiled, your heart doing the same thing it did in the hospital. 

Without hesitation, Spencer stepped into the room and kissed you. It was sweet and quick but still meaningful. He just felt uncomfortable kissing you when he knew hotch was about to say something to break the two of you up. 

“Bold of you to assume I would say yes.” You said with a dazed smile. 

“Were you going to say no to this face, y/n?” He asked. 

“You know me so well, Reid.”

[ressyfaerie]

For the Bryan/Mariah I was thinking like a cute date sort of thing. Like they go for coffee or get ice cream in the park and walk. Like he's not sure why people do these things but he was told this is the type of things you do with a girl you like. Hope that helps! So excited

This sounds SO CUTE. I have been thinking about this for a few days… and I think you’re going to enjoy this :) Anyways, it’s 2AM here, and I sorta ship them now lmao.

“It’s the end of the tournament, and you’re springing this one me now?” Tala sighed. 

Bryan knew he shouldn’t have said anything to his team captain, but he was desperate, after all, in a few weeks, he wouldn’t be able to see her again. 

“Y- Yeah, it has to be now. Because soon- I won’t be able to see her.” 

Tala raised an eyebrow, “she better not be one of the girls from the competition.”

Bryan didn’t make eye contact, Tala rolled his eyes, “Seriously?” 

Bryan nodded. 

“Well then? Spit it out.” 

Bryan looked at him quizzically.

“Who is it?” Turns out, Tala is a bit of a gossip queen. 

“I’m not telling you.” Bryan put up his defense, the truth was, he really wanted him to know, he needed advice. Bryan had no clue how to deal with a crush. 

“There’s only so many girls in the tournament I can easily guess.” 

Bryan rolled his eyes. 

“Hilary?”

“Are you nuts?” Bryan smirked. 

“J- Julia?” 

“Naw man, plus I know you think she’s hot-”

Bryan was surprised to see Tala blush a bit, Tala shook his head and continued.

“Oliver?” 

“Not a girl-”

“Oh, right.” 

“Oh.” Tala’s eyes grew wide, “Don’t tell me- Miriah?” 

Bryan felt his face heat up in red hot waves. 

“Oh my god, Bryan.” Tala began to laugh, “you know, Ray will be pissed.” 

“I know-”

Tala kept laughing.

“What!?” Bryan asked aggressively. 

“I didn’t know you were into big titty catgirls.” 

“Shut up- it's not like that- I actually do like her. I don’t just think she’s pretty. 

“Really?” Tala was taken back, his friend’s first real crush, it was hilarious, but strangely- cute. 

“Yes! So what do I do?” Bryan begged for answers, when it came to the realm of love, he was completely lost. 

“You think I know about girls?” Tala scoffed, “me?” 

Bryan shrugged.

“I don’t know Bryan. Just ask her out, what do girls like? Coffee? Movies? Dinner? She seems like she would like those.” 

“Not a bad idea… I’ve seen her drink… Tea.” 

“Do it, ask her out.”

Bryan knew the best time to ask her out would be after her practice with the white tigers. She always stayed a bit longer to practice and clean up, so she left alone. 

He approached her confidently, with a note Tala told him to bring in his hand. 

“Um.” He walked up to her adjusting his collar. 

Miriah turned her pink-haired head to stare at him, she blinked, “Um, can I help you?” 

“Hi, it’s me, Bryan- um” His face started to flush, he was really out of his comfort zone. 

“I know who you are Bryan,” she smiled. 

Her pretty smile just made him more nervous, his eyes darted side to side, “Uh, do you think, you would be interested in an- arrangement- I mean.” 

He held the note tighter. 

She put her hands on her hips, “what kind of arrangement?” 

“Um- Coffee- and a movie? Kind-of-Arrangement..” 

Miriah gave him a surprised expression, he got nervous, suddenly he felt the overwhelming fear of possible rejection. 

“Ugh- here!” He threw the note towards her, she grabbed it suddenly. 

“Bryan?” She asked, but he had already started running away from her. 

He was gone, and she was left holding a note. She opened it, it had directions to a coffee place and a time. 

The next day Bryan wore his nicest casual pair of clothes he had. He waited in front of the coffee place. He was positive she would be a no-show, but she showed up, five minutes early, in a summer dress, with her hair tied up. 

“Hello, Bryan!” She grinned standing in front of him. 

The sun shone down and reflected off her pink hair. He was baffled by her beauty, that was of course, not the only reason he liked her. Her personality was great, he saw her battle, and he admired her courage and determination- 

“Bryan?” She looked up into his eyes to try to kick him out of his daze. 

“Huh? Oh, um- Hi.” 

She blinked a few times, but still wore her playful expression. 

“Do you want- a drink? I’ll buy it for you.” Bryan accidentally sounded overly friendly, but she didn’t seem to mind.

“Sure!” 

Inside the coffee shop, it was pretty busy, they had to stand close to each other to fit in line. Bryan could smell a dash of sweet perfume when he got close to her, or maybe it was her shampoo? Would it be weird to ask? 

“What are you getting Bryan?” He was much taller than her, it was especially noticeable when they stood this close. 

He stared down at her, “Um- I’m not sure. What are you getting?” 

“It’s hot- I think I’ll get a cold drink. I’m going to get a tea-lemonade.” 

“Tea-lemonade, that is so cute.”

And he realized he said that out loud. 

“Really, you think it’s cute?” She teased him.

He blushed, his mind swirled, was she really… Teasing him right now? 

“Are you getting coffee? Or something sweet?” 

“Coffee?” By a miracle, he managed to use words, only one, but it was a start. 

“Cold? Or hot?”

“Cold?” He guessed.

“Do you want me to order for you?” 

He nodded. 

She ordered for him, he handed her some cash from his wallet. He worried maybe he wasn’t being assertive enough, but to be honest, he kind of liked her taking control. 

They walked along a beach boardwalk sipping on their drinks. Bryan became aware that he didn’t like coffee as much as he thought he did. He kept drinking it because she ordered it for him, and he loved that. 

“Did you want to see that movie you mentioned?” She asked while rearranging the straw in her drink. 

“Yeah, of course.”

When they got there, Miriah looked at the cheesy romance movie that was advertised. 

“Are you sure you want to see a movie like this?” Her face kind of scrunched up. 

“Don’t girls like movies like this?” He was worried, did he make a bad choice?

“Hmmm, I do, but I’d rather we do something we would both enjoy… I saw an arcade on the way here?”

Bryan grinned, his kind of girl, “That’s not a bad idea.” 

At the arcade he got a bunch of change and gave her a handful, when he dropped it in her open palm, he touched her fingers with his, this sent a shock through his body, he tried to play it off. 

“What kind of games do you want to play?” 

She thought for a moment, “You’re good with guns right? Can you show me a shooter?” 

“You want to watch me play a shooting game?” He didn’t understand. 

“Yeah!” She clapped her hands together with glee, “Can you show me how?” 

Bryan had guided her to some kind of zombie shooting game. He put some change in the machine and picked up the fake gun. 

“This is easy to use, you see the guides?” 

She tried to angle herself so she could see over his shoulder, “Not really…” She admitted. 

“I guess your angle is off… Um- here.” 

He held out the gun to her, she hopped on the small stage and accepted it. He was close enough to smell her sweet scent again, this time mixed with tea-lemonade. 

“Okay, hold this part to your shoulder, and now look through these two holes- you need to line them up- there,” he stood back a bit, he watched her form, “perfect.” 

“You think so? I’m still not sure how to line up the holes…” 

“Here…” He leaned into her, he reached for her hands, she nodded to say it was alright. He places his hands on hers and leaned his head on her shoulder, “like… This.”

“Oh! I get it. Thank you.” 

He was jealous, she didn’t even stutter, she was so confident, he felt so small. He needed to show her he could be confident too. 

He stayed in the position he was in, he didn’t want to move, he wanted to stay like this. He could feel the sleeve of her dress against his cheek, he savoured every moment. 

Then he felt her whole body move, she had started shooting, and he was thrown away from her. 

“Sorry, Bryan! These zombies just started appearing!” 

He laughed, his kind of girl. 

They played different games for hours. Until they were comfortable making casual conversation, and the arcade started to die down. No one was around this secluded corner. 

“Oh my god, DDR!” 

“That dancing game?” 

“Can we play?” She sounded so excited, she was already putting coins into the machine. 

“Dancing? Me? That stage is so small, I’m afraid I’ll break it.” 

“You’ll be fine,” she leaned over the bars, matching his height. Her hair was now undone and dangled over her shoulders, her face was uncomfortably close to his. 

“Okay, I will. You’ve convinced me.” 

“Yay!” She squealed, and put more coins into the machine. 

Bryan stepped onto the adjacent side of the stage, the old metal squeaked a bit under his weight. He knew how to play, the rules were simple, but he wasn't prepared. 

When the arrows came down Miriah moved expertly, he was more like an elephant lost in a thrift store. 

“Ah!” He complained, but she just giggled. 

He joined in laughing with her, until he lost his balance.

“Bryan!” She held out her arms helping him regain his posture, but she was- holding him. 

 The light from the machine illuminated the arcade, the announcer kept yelling about their low score, but they didn’t move. He got himself upright, but they still held each other’s arms.

“Why did you ask me out Bryan?” She asked just above a whisper. 

“I think- I think you're remarkable.” He admitted and managed to keep eye contact with her. “I think- you’re really cool.” He grinned. “What do you think about me?” 

Miriah gently pulled a hand away from his grip, she let it fall down his cheek. The feeling was foreign, and he felt his body melt in euphoria. 

“At first I thought you were just another angry demolition boy- but- After today.” She let her thumb glide down to his chin, just barely grazing his lower lip. “I think you’re really cool too.” 

He let out a singular laugh, air got caught in his throat, he decided to go for it before he made himself overthink. 

He leaned into her, angling his head just a bit, so their lips touched. 

He wasn’t sure exactly how to do it- but it felt nice. They pulled apart for a moment, he angled his head a different way, and they did it again. 

She giggled, “You have really soft lips actually…” 

“Actually? How dare you-” He teased her, bending down to do it again

[norahjakobs]

On The Sidelines

After an accident while on a mission Jinny has a broken foot and is stuck on the benches for a month. Her girlfriend Amy comes over to her home to visit and cheer her up.

(This was commissioned by @wombatking)

The knock at the door was met by a holler of “Let yourself in, key’s on the top of the door frame.”

Amy entered Jinny’s home, two shopping bags in hand both full, and a backpack on her back. It sported several pins referencing games from primarily the 90s with one or two more modern ones offering some variety.

Jinny could see her clearly from her spot on the couch. Her foot was propped up on the armrest, covered in a cast. If it weren’t for the cast on her foot she’d be with the team or out doing stuff, instead of stuck at home on the benches. She had already tried asking Robin to call one of those magic folk he knew to heal it up but apparently that would be ‘inappropriate’.

Being alone at home sucked, but at least Amy had decided to visit. Jinny would be lying if she said she hadn’t got out of her room and hobbled over to the living room to wait. She’d also be lying if she said the crutches were intuitive for her to use.

Amy set her bags down beside the couch and then leaned down to give Jinny a hug and peck on the cheek. There’s a warm smile on her face. “Hey, it’s good to see you.”

“You too. I hope you aren’t missing anything exciting for this.” Her tone made it clear she felt like she was. She’d much rather be out with Amy than here with her.

She shook her head. “Nope, nothing happening today as far as I know. But even if there were I still would come. I’m not going to leave you with netflix as your only company.”

Jinny gave a small chuckle. “You would not believe just how poor a selection they’ve got of westerns.”

“Well, no more need to worry about that. I brought some entertainment of my own.” 

Amy sat down on the floor next to her bags. Jinny watched her as she began to rifle through the bags, spotting glimpses of bright colors.

She pulled out some snacks and a bottle of soda and placed them on the coffee table, next to the TV remote. “In case you are getting peckish.”

Then out came some small novelty toys. A few of those finger skateboards, a yo-yo, and few other things to keep her hands busy. Jinny raised an eyebrow, to which Amy retorted “Have you seen how antsy you get when you don't know what to do with your hands?”

She couldn’t argue that. Between target practice and helping out around the house she had grown used to having something to occupy her hands.

Then lastly she had packed a couple of video games and one of her consoles, of course wrapped in a generous layer of bubble wrap that she tossed over to Jinny as she got it unwrapped. “I also brought some co-op games for us to play, how’s that sound?”

“It sounds good, I guess.” Jinny swung her feet down to the floor to give Amy space to sit down beside her.

Which Amy did as she placed a hand on Jinny’s shoulder. “Do you wanna talk about it?”

“Talk about what? I’m fine, really.” She answered before the question was even asked.

Amy just gave her a look, a knowing look that crumbled her defensive layer. “Jinny, you didn’t even let me get to the part where I ask how you are. So why don’t you get that foot up here so I can doodle on your cast and you tell me what’s up? I brought a pretty cool metallic sharpie.”

Jinny crossed her arms and huffed. She was fine… her glaze turned briefly to Amy and the earnest look of understanding on her face. How did she get blessed to have such a nice girlfriend?

“Fine.” Jinny propped her broken foot up by Amy, who began to doodle what looked to be a crystal heart in metallic purple. She had to admit it did look pretty cool.

“I guess I just, I feel pretty useless right now. Everybody is off and helping folks or having some sort of adventure. Then here I am, stuck at home for a month cause I jumped down from somewhere I shouldn’t have. This kind of thing doesn’t happen to Superboy, or you.”

“Jinny, that’s not true. I’ve been put out of action more than once to mundane stuff, same as you. Besides, that doesn’t even matter. Beating yourself up for an accident isn’t gonna heal your foot, it’s just going to make you grumpy.” She gave a cheeky grin.

She had to stop herself from giving a pout of ‘I’m not grumpy’ as she realized that it was possible (in fact very likely) that Amy was right. “I-, thanks Amy. I just, ya know I don’t like being passive. So this has just been real frustrating.”

“I know, but hey maybe this will teach you a little patience. But even if it doesn’t, I’m here to help you cope. You aren’t facing this alone.” Amy leaned forward and after a moment where Jinny could swear their noses were touching she gave her a kiss.

She let out a chuckle. “I’m not so sure I’ll be learning anything from this. Either way I’m glad you’re here. This would be pretty unbearable without the company.”

Amy shrugged. “Who knows, I felt pretty similarly when I tried out animal crossing. I thought I’d just do time skips, but after a bit I actually started to like the slower pace. It’s… relaxing sometimes to just have to wait.”

She put the sharpie down onto the coffee table and got off the couch to start setting up the console she brought. Jinny took a look at the finished doodles on her cast. The crystal heart she already saw was beside Amy’s signature, it was loopy and had a heart next to the Y. There was also an attempt at an 8-bit cowboy hat, a few of the lines were a little wonky but the thought was sweet and it looked bad by no means.

Jinny considered her words. She didn’t think she’d ever be somebody that would prefer to stay out of the action, but maybe part of the reason why was the novelty of it. She had to admit Amy had more experience with adventure. It was a natural conclusion that experience probably colored her view.

So it’d seem she’d have to catch up to the level of adventures Amy’s been on before she could say for sure where she stood on the issue. Either way though, she was feeling better about her time on the benches.

“So, which one do you want to play?” Amy held up two disc cases. One looked to be a high fantasy rpg and the other a western shooter.

“I think you and I both know what I’m gonna pick.” She pointed to her choice and Amy put it in. Then came back onto the couch and the two began to play video games together, Amy resting her head on Jinny’s shoulder.

[incognitostarkbaratheon]

Things Gendry have said while drunk: “I wish I was as cool as Arya” while Jon just nods like 😔 “me too”

Oh wow, I never had one of these!

OK, let’s see…

This was the first time in a while they had the chance to spend New Year’s night together. Three years ago Robb went to spend the holidays at Highgarden with Margaery’s family, the following year Jon decided to go to the far North with Ygritte and last Christmas Gendry had to stay behind for work and Arya chose to stay in the Stormlands with him.

The week had been a complete success, however, today was their last night together before jobs and obligations took them apart again and the Stark children were determined to make it count.

Gendry didn’t remember exactly who came up with the idea; it could have been Rickon, who knows. The thing was that, at 2:37 in the morning of a windy first of January, he found himself in the very well-equipped basement of Winterfell, right in the middle of a darts tournament.

Rickon was the only one still underage, but since Ned and Catelyn had said their goodnights to go upstairs an hour ago, Theon had quietly passed him a beer and even Robb pretended he didn’t notice. Or maybe he was already drunk enough himself to not care.

The tournament started slow and “by the rules,” they were even keeping the count of points. Every member of the Stark clan, included Margaery, Ygritte and Gendry, had their turn to throw a set of 3 darts. But of course, after two rounds, they were barely respecting the turns anymore.

One by one they failed among cheers and moans. Bran was the first to go, he tried to aim as well as he could but it was obvious computers were his thing, not darts. He accepted his defeat with grace and moved to the other side of the spacious room to play a videogame on the flat screen.

Gendry could tell Sansa was playing more to be with her siblings than because she was for real interested in the game, but she made the effort and looked proud because she lasted more than Bran and hadn’t been the first one to go. She happily sat with a drink to cheer everyone else.

Rickon was the next one. He was ready to fight, it was obvious he had been practising, but the alcohol backfired on him and in the end, his aim failed him. He mumbled something that sounded a lot like “stupid game” before joining Bran.

Margaery showed some good skills, but she ended up going down next, declaring herself more of a strategist than a shooter.

On his fifth turn, Gendry’s mind was cloudy already; he had to concentrate to focus on the board. He could hear Arya cheering somewhere at his left but his hand and his eyes were not in the same page anymore. The darts flew only to hit the outer circle of the board, taking him out of the game.

“Damn!” Gendry exclaimed while snapping his fingers, trying to hide the fact that he was already too drunk to play. He walked to Arya, who immediately threw her arms around his neck and kissed him.

“Don’t worry babe, I’ll get the crown for the both of us.” Then she proceeded to retake her place to throw again.

Things got serious after that, Robb was determined to defend his honour as firstborn, Jon was not willing to lose yet and Theon was on a mission. Gendry didn’t know Ygritte that well but judging by Jon’s comments, she wasn’t the type that gives up easily and he knew his Arya would rather fall unconscious than be defeated. He just sat to enjoy the battle.

Robb went down next in embarrassing fashion, his last darts were closer to the wall than the centre of the board, even Gendry’s last attempt had been more successful. He faked a tantrum, leaning on a wall and pretending he was crying before stepping back.

Jon was next, he was doing well at first but his last dart completely missed the mark. He only slapped the sides of his legs with both hands and went to sit next to Gendry.

Theon took more time, but in the end Arya made his last throws look like a joke and he had to admit defeat. He inclined his body as if he had been an artist that just gave the greatest performance of his life and zigzagged his way to sit on the floor next to Sansa.

Ygritte was about to throw but Arya had something to say. “Why don’t we step back and increase the distance, just to make it more interesting.”

Gendry gulped and looked to Jon, who seemed as surprised as he felt. When he looked back, he thought he saw doubt on Ygritte’s eyes for a moment, but it disappeared as soon as he saw it.

“Sure,” Ygritte said, and they moved 2 steps back.

That lasted two rounds, then Arya gave one more step back. Ygritte followed, but she was starting to look unsure.

Gendry turned to Jon again; his eyes were a mixture of apprehension and excitement, he even had a fainted smile on his lips. He wondered which one of those feelings was for Arya. That’s when Gendry perceived the silence. Everyone, even Bran and Rickon were looking at the two women. ‘Gods, I wish I wasn’t drunk,’ he thought.

Another round, both were accurate and everyone clapped. Then Arya moved back again.

Gendry knew Arya was drunk as well but she looked utterly focused and Ygritte, well, Gendry couldn’t be sure but she looked nervous.

The silence filled the basement again. Ygritte’s turn was first, the first and third darts hit the centre, but the second was a bit to the right, if Arya achieved three accurate throws, she would win.

Arya prepared to throw with a zip of her beer, she took her time, savouring the liquid in her mouth and she looked so hot, Gendry would have jumped on her right then and there if not because they were surrounded by her siblings.

She threw her first dart, it hit right in the centre of the board. The second dart obtained the same results. Then Arya drank from her beer again, a big zip this time. She left the bottle on the counter close to her and gave one more step back. The rest were in complete silence, waiting.

Arya took her time again, aiming carefully, positioning her hand and arm in the right place. She threw and Gendry saw in awe how the dart reached the board, hitting the centre in the most accurate way possible.

The silence lasted just one more second, then everything was claps and cheers. Gendry was hypnotised, he had the coolest fiancée in the entire universe.

“Man, I wish I was as cool as Arya,” Gendry said, not knowing if to himself or to Jon. He realised he had been heard when Jon answered in a low voice.

“Me too mate, me too.” Jon then quickly patted Gendry’s shoulder before standing up to go comfort Ygritte.

Gendry took an extra moment to look at Arya, feeling his admiration and love for her growing with every second, then he stood up himself to go to her.

Arya hugged him as soon as he approached, “I told you I would get it!”

“And you did!” Gendry replied, smiling with pride.

Arya smiled back before getting closer to whisper on his ear. “I will require a prize, Waters.”

Gendry blushed a little bit but managed to answer, “As soon as we’re alone.”

To Gendry’s delight, the party died not long after that, allowing him and Arya to go have their private celebration.

-/-/-

And I think this was longer than I was anticipating, I hope you like it anyway.

Thank you for the prompt! 💛😎😁