#where my ged babes at

[torn-slander]

Does anyone else have memories that pop up every time you play a certain part of a game? The Jak series is like xd a scrapbook of random ass memories of conversations or smells or life events that are affiliated w random af parts of the game

like I was failing out of school in highschool for various reasons but every time I play the mission in Jak 2 where you have to fight thru the slums w the seal from brutter, there's a specific part of the slums during that mission that always makes me remember me playing that game at 15 because it was my only escape from an abusive homelife and undiagnosed autism and just coming out as gay and trans in public school like lmfao

On a less depressing note tho another memory w a game is that ahhh whats it called? Silicon Valley or some shit it was an old Nintendo 64 game where you play as a microchip and possess animals lmfao but every time I eat a fucking Jimmy deans breakfast sandwich I remember that game LMFAO because the N64 was kept in my parents room and once my mom let me taake breakfast up there to play games and I had never gotten to eat in my own room let alone my parents and it was a fucking breakfast sandwich lmfao

One year my mom got me a huge pack of trident orange gum for christmas because I fucking loved gum and now I still affiliate that smell w christmas lmfao

[jtl-fics]

Babes, I adore you. Will you write something for my girl smalls?

WIP Wednesday 4/10/24 (Closed) | Smalls AU

"Please don't tell Coach Wymack." Janie says quietly.

"Janie, what do you remember? You must have some memories since you were able to pass your GED with flying colors." Betsy looks at her gently.

Janie looks at her miserably.

"I won't tell David as long as it isn't a threat to your health or your safety." Betsy says, "That's the benefit of talking with a therapist. There are very few instances where I'd have to talk about what we talk about with anyone other than you."

Make Me Write: This Week's WIP Wednesday

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[ruminate88]

Deeper Layers:

I write and write about my exes. More so Andrew because he was my recent ex and I felt I obsessively idealized him the most. Then I go back and read these post over and over and over…. My brain scans my own words and feelings, then tries to make sense of it all. I use an A.I ChatGPT to break down the post and then it gives me an interpretation which I scan with my brain again and it feels endless but I realized last night there is layers to this “healing journey” because of there is such depth to these emotional scars. ❤️‍🩹

I love metaphors and symbolism in life because it helps me, someone who is a “visual learner” to actually be able to see what I need to. When I fell off a ladder last thanksgiving/christmas, the deep wounds in my legs opened the door of compassion within myself for the wounds in my heart/soul. I realized how much of me needs restoration and resetting.

EVERYWHERE I turn or read, it says in hidden messages, “healing takes time”. “Healing is on going”. It’s a “never ending process”.,… but I also get messages of “forgiveness” and “letting go”. I’ve been going around this mountain and around as I’m traveling up. I often feel stuck in cycles but yet, I’m slowly unraveling each layer or untangling each strand of the web of lies. Either way you want to look at it, I’m STILL finding truth in all the fog of the past.

I know without a doubt, yes my ex Andrew deceived me but I loved him. I may have idealized or fantasized our relationship but I cared about him. I showed up for him even while he’s inflicting pain on me and dumping stress on me. I wasnt perfect and I wasn’t asking him to be perfect either. I just wanted him to be real and honest with me. If you have other girls you like, tell me. Don’t make me believe I’m the only one in your life when clearly you’re entertaining multiple. 💔 (this is part of the letting go that I struggle with cuz it still hurts me even now and it shouldn’t)

I’m not depressed anymore, thank God!! I know what depression or oppression feels like. This is just “sad”. Sad because I’m losing a part of me that was toxic and no longer serves my higher good. Andrew can’t serve my best interest. I’ve worried about that man and prayed for him. I’ve feared him but had hope with him even KNOWING he cheated, a small part of me was hopeful that he did love me even if it was a small portion…. Thinking he only used me because he hated my guts, that just makes me feel awful but can’t deny that possibility!! 😓

Also, remembering how I was helping to raise my bro’s kids at the time when I was actively talking to Andrew and I was sorta in this weird “mothering mode” where I just took care of everyone at that time, even Andrew. He would cry to me that college was hard, that his parents were so strict about his grades, that he was afraid to fail and disappoint them…. So, I would “baby” him and feel sorry for him. I would lie to myself that he trusted me and needed me… I lied to myself that he loved me because I was the one he came to with his problems. I believed it was “love” and so I did everything within my heart of hearts to care about him and I would try so hard to encourage him but I couidnt relate to him on any level because I didn’t even go to school. I dropped out after the 7th grade, then didn’t get my GED till I’m 19. I felt stupid talking to Andrew about “home work” and “schooling”. I was fearful he would think I was stupid….

Yet I’m the one showing up for him, encouraging him, trying to understand when he’s been “gone for 3 days” but suddenly comes back with “hey babe I miss you soooo much I’m soooooo busy have sooooo much homework” 😝😝😝😝 and I would FORGIVE HIM, OFFER TO BREAK UP annnnnnd STAY WITH HIM when he promises me he’s going to change and make more time for me…. Even when he’s snap-chatting me from his frat house. Selfies of himself at parties but yet telling me how much homework he has and how stressed out he is.

I gave him the benefit of the doubt, my online girlfriends kept saying to me, “Why are you with that little kid???” And they made me feel bad constantly. I felt my friends were judging me for being so much older than him and clearly he was immature BUT I was constantly crying to my girlfriends how Andrew kept disappearing and how sad I was but then turn around; Andrew would suddenly come back and be sooooooooo romantic. Tell me how beautiful I am, how he misses me sooo much but still cries he’s too busy. My girlfriends were tired of me being up and down constantly. I wouldn’t change. I know that’s why Bri went behind my back becuase I wouldn’t take advice about Andrew. I would get overly defensive and tell my girlfriends, “I just want you to be happy for me” 😒💔

Looking back, I was NEVER happy. I didn’t tell Andrew half of my secrets becuase I was already traumatized from Cody and scared to lose Andrew. I told Andrew I had been ghosted, that I NEVER wanted to experience that again. Andrew KNEW I didn’t wanna be hurt yet he just couldn’t care. He could only be selfish with me. He found it easy to ignore me when he’s busy but when he’s not, suddenly he’s all over me again begging for my nudes and telling me how good I make him feel…

I have an older Facebook I used to stalk him with back then and I would blog on it and wow… the many post of one minute I’m on cloud 9 with Andrew but then the next, I’m anxiously on the edge ready to end my life… there was never any solid ground when talking to him. I was either crazy high or dying inside….. 😭😭😭 Then at some point I stopped blogging and that’s because the relationship got 10x worse. Andrew’s responses to my text or Snapchat’s got shorter and more robotic up until I found proof he cheated and then we broke up.

Not once can I look back and say it was a good, healthy or loving relationship sadly… I can only realize how I misinterpreted Andrew’s behavior towards me and romanticized all the sexting as love. 😔💔 I still don’t hate him or even hate myself…. Just, it’s sad that I believed in love with him when it was just sex. It just makes me feel bad and stupid. I know forgiving myself is just as much a process as forgiving him. Yeah, I’m upset he mislead me but he can’t take it all back. The way he posted the next girl all over his social, that was a slap on my face but doesn’t mean he treated her better than me. Also, the way he tried to FaceTime me after I moved on, like…. What did that mean? Was it truly just to continue to manipulate me or did he miss me? Hah 😝😝😝 (I’m for sure he probably only missed the attention I gave him.) I doubt he EVER cared about me for the real me. Plus there wasn’t too much deep stuff we even talked about) I guess I just wanted Andrew to potentially be the one cuz so much chemistry and vibes between us. His Facebook seemed normal and I actually believed he was a good boy who respected his parents and grand parents 😂😂😂😂😂 (I was just wearing rose colored glasses and was blind to the truth)

[parkshan820]

Bad Habits, Can’t shake em.

 Finally had some motivation to write! Hope you enjoy!

Hank hates it when he smokes. 

Alex knows.

He has been trying his best to shake the addiction, but sometimes he just can’t help it. He’s getting better, smoking less but when he is stressed, nobody can stop it. Not even himself. When he’s stressed, nothing better than sitting outside and inhaling that sweet, sweet nicotine that instantly relaxes his muscles, leaning back and naturally letting it out in a puff of smoke. 

Hank worries about him. It’s new to him at first, in the beginning he didn’t like it at all. No one had to worry about him before, never bothered to but his Bozo, he did it with all his heart. Even giving it without asking for anything in return. Now he is used to it. 

But this afternoon has been particularly shitty. Nothing worse than when an employer lies to the boss and gets someone fired. He didn’t even do anything, he doesn’t deserve this bad luck. It wasn’t a good job but it was still something! He kept his head down and worked hard, but as soon as someone messed up, they always blamed it on the guy with the record. That's all he is ever known for. A criminal that did jail time. He didn’t know what he was going to tell Hank.

He didn’t even know what his boyfriend saw in him.

Alex huffs as he sits on the fir escape, lighting up a cigarette and closes his eyes as he inhales. When he first met Hank, he admitted to himself that god he was beautiful, the most gorgeous human being. But he didn’t dare think that far ahead. Last thing he needed was to give someone trust then to run off when they see the scars, when his nightmares hold him to something fierce. He lashes out in a mean cruel way when he gets anxious, or scared. Last thing he needs is pity and for them to be scared of him. 

Nothing worse than when they stare at him with fear, he wouldn’t dare hurt ones he cares about. They don’t care, because deep down they will always be afraid of him. 

So what’s the point? 

Well Hank didn’t care. He never looked at him with pity or fear. Instead he looks at him with fondness, with understanding and that's terrifying. That someone accepts him and makes sure to avoid his triggers. To give him affection in such a simple way that he leans into, even though he always flinched away from the beginning. Hank is so smart, brilliant even, what the hell does he see in him? Alex wasn’t smart, he wasn’t good even, he, he’s a screw up. 

He tenses when he hears the door open. He left the window open just to keep an ear out. He knows Hank won’t hurt him, he never did in the last four years he decided that he was worth it. That Alex was worth it. “Alex? Baby?” He hears and he closes his eyes as shame and disappointment floods his body. He hates the thought of letting Hank down. “There you are.” The blond jumps when Hank’s smooth voice sounds right next to him and Hank crawls out and sits beside him. 

“What are you doing home early?” He asks softly. Alex knows Hank already knew why he was home early. But yet he still asks, just to make sure. Alex takes one last puff from the cigarette before throwing it away, not caring where it lands. “They let me go. Some stupid employer messed up, put the blame on me. Like always.” He grunts out. Hank clenches his fists and Alex cringes. “Baby, I’m not angry at you. I am going to give your boss a piece of my mind.” The brunet angrily huffs before pulling his phone out. 

“Hey, it’s ok. I didn’t like the job anyway.” Alex says placing his hand onto the man’s wrist, stopping him from calling his ex boss. “It’s not fair. You can’t let them do that to you babe. You don’t deserve that.” He says sincerely. Alex gives him a sad smile. “I know, but hey it might be a blessing in disguise. Gives me motivation to finally get my GED.” He whispers and Hank smiles. “Don’t force yourself to change for me Alex.” He whispers softly and the blond gives him a smile. “I know, but I want to do this.” He says. 

Hank stares into his eyes, looking at him with such softness, with such love that Alex forces himself not to break eye contact. Hank then reaches over and places a hand on the back of the blond’s neck. “I love you just the way you are.” He says fiercely before pulling him into a soft loving kiss. Alex melts into it, believing everything he says, no matter how much his survival instincts tell him not to. “I love you too.” He says when Hank pulls away. 

“Come on, let’s go inside.” He says and Alex nods. “You're not mad?” He asks suddenly. The other male stops as he helps the blond inside. “No, I know you needed it.” He says and Alex sighs out in relief. “I’m not going to stop you from smoking, baby, not when you need it. You cut back from it and for that I’m grateful because I get to spend more time with you.” He says and Alex nods. 

“Thank you.” Alex says weakly and Hank kisses him. “No need to thank me. I’m always here for you.” He whispers softly into the kiss. 

That's all he asks for at this moment.

[thebluesideofmyworld]

House Key - A Solangelo One-Shot

Summary: Nico moved into a new apartment. Will helped him settle down in the new place. And deep down inside, Will wanted to make the apartment a home for Nico.

Word Count: 3200 | Read on AO3

***

My contribution to @solangeloweek for the Solangelo Spring Ball 2020. My date for the event is @pjozz​ who has created TWO gorgeous moodboard for this fic (moodboard 1| moodboard 2) (go check her blog, she makes awesome stuff!)

Author’s Notes: - A gazillion thanks for the wonderful Eaf who has helped me to beta this work. - Based on the song House Key by Scott Helman. Title is also from that song.

***

“This is the last one,” Will said as he put the box that he was carrying down on the floor. He stood up, straightened his back and looked around. A few feet away from him, Nico was sitting on the floor, taking some stuff out from one of the boxes.

Nico snorted. “You said that as if I had hundreds of boxes.”

“I can’t believe that you could pack your whole life in just a few boxes,” Will sighed. He made his way to the couch and threw himself there. It wasn’t exactly new. The brown couch was a hand-down from Piper, but it was comfortable enough. Will shifted, half-laying on the couch with his back against the armrest.

“Come here and give me a hug, babe,” Will called out to Nico. Nico turned his head to look at Will. He rolled his eyes but as Will widely opened his arms, there was a small fond smile on his lips. Nico stood up and made a beeline to come to Will. He lay down on the couch and snuggled up against Will. Will started playing with the soft dark strands of Nico’s hair.

“How are you feeling, love? Excited?”

Nico hummed his answer. “I can’t believe I finally have my own place.”

“Well, you practically had Cabin 13 to yourself…”

Nico huffed. “Yeah. But it’s different, you know?”

Will smiled and kissed the top of Nico’s head. He hummed and let Nico continue.

“This is the first time I’m, like…deciding everything by myself. Like, really owning something for myself.”

“And how do you feel about it?”

Nico huffed. It took a moment before he answered, like he was considering his answers. “Excited. Scared. Nervous. Happy,” he shrugged his shoulders. “All at the same time. I feel like I am still too young to do this, but at the same time I also feel like, hey, I am a real adult now.”

“Oh, wow. I can’t believe that the Ghost King could have so many emotions at once,” Will teased.

Nico groaned and punched Will on the shoulder. Will laughed and caught Nico’s wrist. He brought Nico’s hand to his lips, and kissed the knuckles.

“You’ll be fine, darling,” Will said. “It’s not going to be easy. Living in your apartment, doing your classes, but you’ll be fine.”

Last year Nico managed to earn his GED certificate, and then he decided to do a degree in Social Work. For now, he was still doing it part-time, as he was still doing some errands for Hades. And when it was possible, he opted for classes that he could take online. Will knew that Nico still needed some time to adapt to the way formal education worked. Will himself was already in his third year of his undergrad when Nico started doing the degree. Will was doing Biochemistry and going for a pre-med track. Classes were hard, but Will enjoyed doing it, as he had always wanted to be a doctor. And he was glad to see that Nico seemed to be really interested in the field that he was studying now.

Nico hummed. “Anyway, what time is it now?” Nico asked as he moved, trying to find a more comfortable position against Will’s chest.

Will shrugged his shoulders. “I don’t know. Late, I guess?”

Nico stayed quiet for a moment. But then he asked another question.

“Do you…have to go back to your dorm now?”

With Nico’s warm cheek against his chest, Will couldn’t see Nico’s expression. But the years that they had spent together made it easy for him to recognize the hesitation that laced Nico’s voice.

Will rubbed Nico’s arm. “I don’t have any classes anyway tomorrow.”

“Oh?”

Will hummed. “And it’s already too cold for me to go outside now.”

Nico shifted so now he faced Will. “It’s not that cold, Will,” he said. But there was a look of relief in his eyes. Will chuckled, and flipped Nico’s nose.

“It is,” he said. “And to be honest, I don’t think I want to leave you alone right now. It looks like you need some warmth to help you getting through your first night in this apartment.”

Nico opened his mouth, like he was about to say something. But Will put his finger over his lips, stopping him from saying anything.

“I’ll stay for the night. I am pretty sure that if I go back to my dorm, I will end up calling you anyway, making sure that everything’s okay with you.”

There was a small smile on Nico’s lips. “Thanks, Will,” he whispered. Will smiled back, and leaned down to kiss Nico’s forehead.

One day, Will thought. One day, the only place where I have to go back to, will be to where Nico is.

***

“I’m coming!”

Will smiled unconsciously when he heard Nico’s voice, followed by the sound of footsteps coming. Then the door swung open, revealing Nico, reading glasses perched over his nose. Will’s smile turned into a grin.

“Will?”

Nico looked a bit surprised as he took off his glasses, and put it on the top of his head. “Hey! I didn’t know you were coming!”

“I got something for you.”

Nico’s eyes widened. “What?”

Instead of answering, Will pulled down the zipper of his jacket, revealing a gray kitten who was comfortably snuggling against him with its eyes closed.

“Here. Take it,” Will said as he half-shoved the cat to Nico. Nico looked dazed, a bit clueless, but he took the small cat anyway and cradled it gently in his arms. The cat opened its eyes and stared at Nico sleepily. The cat purred and appeared to decide that Nico’s hands were as warm as Will’s jacket, as it closed its eyes again. Will watched the expression on Nico’s face change from confusion, to caution, until it turned into amazement along with fondness as the kitten snuggled against his chest.

“I think the cat likes you,” Will said, smiling warmly.

Nico hummed. He lifted the cat up a little and nuzzled its head gently. He earned a soft purr from the cat that made him chuckle.

“Does he have a name?” Nico asked, looking at Will questioningly.

“Shakespeare,” Will answered as he let himself in. He closed the door behind him.

Nico snorted. “That’s a terrible name for a cat,” Nico said as he walked to the living room area. Will was trailing behind him.

“Better than Valdezinator, though.” Will said. Nico let out a small laugh at that.

“Yeah, I can’t argue with that,” he said. He sat down on the couch. He petted the cat gently, smiling as the cat stretched and yawned on his lap. Will took a seat next to Nico on the couch. He looked around at the papers and notebooks that were scattered over the coffee table. Nico’s laptop was open, showing a Word document on its screen.

“What were you doing?” Will asked

“A paper. Assignment for my Cultural Diversity and Justice class.”

Will whistled. “Sounds interesting, babe. But the most important question is, have you eaten anything yet?”

Nico gently put the kitten on the carpet, right next to the couch. He brought his glasses back down to his nose and took his laptop from the coffee table.

“Well?”

Nico shrugged his shoulders. “I had some yogurt.”

“And when was that?”

It took a while before Nico answered. “Like…at noon?”

Will groaned. It was almost seven in the evening. “You’ve promised me you’re going to eat more.”

“The due date for this paper is this Friday, Will.”

“Which is still, like… three days from now!”

Nico huffed. “I want to finish it now.”

Will sighed, but then he stood up. He ruffled Nico’s hair, then bowed down a little to kiss the crown of Nico’s head.

“Stay here,” he said. “I’ll whip something up for you so you don’t starve.”

Between the two of them, Nico was surely the better cook. In fact, Nico often said that cooking was one of the things he considered a part of his Italian heritage. But in times like this, when Nico was too absorbed in something that he was doing, it was Will who would make sure that Nico ate something, even if it meant that Will had to do the cooking. Not that Will was bad at cooking, though. His cooking was decent enough to be edible, thank you very much.

Nico mumbled something about not being hungry, but Will still made his way to the kitchen anyway. He was just about three steps away from the couch when Nico called him.

“Hey, Will?”

“Hmm?” Will turned to look at Nico.

Nico brushed some strands of his hair away from his forehead when he lifted his head up to look at Will. “You left your guitar here. I put it in the bedroom.”

“Oh! Yeah, right! It’s okay, you can keep it here,” Will said.

Nico rolled his eyes. He looked down again at his laptop. “The next time you leave your things here, at least put them where they won’t block the way. I tripped on that stupid guitar last night.”

Will grinned. “You know you love the guitar, darl.”

(And Will loved it when Nico played the guitar. Which wasn’t new or surprising. Will loved everything that Nico did anyway.)

An hour later, they had some honey garlic chicken for dinner, where Nico exclaimed that he wasn’t sure that Shakespeare could sleep well in a new place with a total stranger. So, of course, Will decided that yeah, he could stay for the night.

Later that night, Will managed to drag Nico to bed before midnight. But before they went to bed, they spent 10 minutes creating a makeshift bed for Shakespeare from a box and some old blankets. Now Shakespeare was sleeping peacefully in it, while Nico and Will lay down side by side on Nico’s bed.

“I still can’t believe you got me a kitten.”

Will shrugged, and started playing with Nico’s hair. He loved feeling the silky strands on his fingers. “I think it will be nice to have a cat here. To make this place feel more like home for you.”

Nico stayed quiet for a while. He drew some small circles on Will’s chest with his index finger. In the dim light of the night lamp, Will could see the contemplative look on Nico’s expression.

“What are you thinking, darling?”

Nico stretched his lips into a thin line for a second.

“What about you, Will? Do you feel like this place, this apartment… Do you feel like it’s home for you?”

Will smiled softly, and leaned to place a gentle kiss on Nico’s forehead.

“Wherever you are, is where it feels like home for me.”

***

Nico di Angelo was gorgeous.

Not that Will wasn’t aware of that fact before. But it was the first thing that crossed Will’s mind when Nico swung the door open for him that evening.

“Will! Happy birthday!” Nico exclaimed, and tiptoed just a bit so he could peck Will’s lips.

“Thanks,” Will said, still a bit dazed to see Nico. Will stood still for a second, staring at Nico. “Wow,” he said. “You look really nice.”

Nico’s usual attire was dark-colored shirts, sometimes with printed graphics on it. If the weather was cold, he went for hoodies.

(And if half of the ones that Nico usually wore were actually Will’s…well, Will had no problem with it, at all.)

But this evening, Nico was wearing a navy blue button-up shirt. He’d rolled the sleeves up to his elbows. And instead of hanging loosely on his body, this shirt actually fit him, showing his lean muscle.

Nico rolled his eyes, feigning annoyance. But the soft blush on his cheeks betrayed it. Will stepped in, and Nico closed the door behind him.

“Are we going somewhere?” Will asked, suddenly feeling self-conscious about the shirt that he was wearing. Sure, it was a clean and quite decent shirt. But compared to how his boyfriend looked now…

“What? No. I’ve told you, I’ll cook dinner for you.”

“Yeah, but…you’re dressed up. Like you’re going somewhere nice. Like there’s something special.”

Nico rolled his eyes again, but then he smiled shyly at Will. “Of course it’s special. It’s your birthday.” He kissed Will’s cheek. “You are special, tesoro.”

Will’s heart suddenly felt too big for his chest.

“Oh,” he said, wanting to say something to that but couldn’t really find the words. “Okay,” he said, and let Nico take his hand.

“Come on,” Nico said, pulling Will along with him to the kitchen area. Then Will saw the dining table.

Oh.

The small table was set up for two people. The table was covered with a dark red tablecloth. A small but elegant bouquet of red roses and white carnations was on the table. And there were candles!

(Okay so Will was a sucker for aromatic candles so what?)

Nico turned around, and looked up at Will. There was a mixed look of hope and hesitation in his eyes. “So, do you like it?”

Will stared at Nico’s dark eyes. “You…did this for me?”

Nico hummed softly as he nodded. “It’s your birthday.”

Something inside Will melted like warm honey. He wrapped his arms around Nico and pulled him into a tight embrace. He kissed the top of Nico’s head.

“Thank you, darling,” he whispered. “I love it.”

Nico pulled away just a little. When he looked up at Will, his eyes sparkling like the stars were trapped behind them. “Anything for you, tesoro.”

“Now,” Nico said, and took Will’s hand again to lead him to the table. “I have spent the whole afternoon preparing a three-course dinner that deserves a Michelin star. So have a seat and don’t make my cooking go to waste.”

Will chuckled as he sat down. “You know, you can still change your major to culinary or something…”

Nico hummed as he walked to the kitchen counter. He walked back to the table, holding two plates.

“Yeah, that’s something that I can consider as my alternative career, I guess…” he said as he put down one of the plates in front of Will. “But for now, you have the honor to be the one who tastes my marvelous cooking.”

Will let out a small laugh. “As you said, I am honored,” he said. He took his fork and knife, and started eating.

Nico was serious about the three-course meal. They started with some delightfully tasty anchovy crostini for the appetizer. The main course was risotto with shrimp and peas, wonderfully seasoned with saffron. To end the dinner, they had some tiramisu, that for Will was something to die for.

Will already knew that Nico was good at cooking. But to know how Nico really took some time to prepare everything for his birthday…It was just something that made Will’s heart fill with warmth. Sometimes he couldn’t believe how lucky he was to have Nico. Sometimes he just couldn’t believe that Nico, the boy that he loved, loved him back.

“So,” Will said, leaning back on his chair with a full stomach. “What’s next?”

Nico hummed as he took the empty plates. He put them on the sink, then sat back across from Will. He lifted his glass and sipped his wine before he asked Will back. “What do you think?”

Will shrugged his shoulders. “I don’t know. But watching Queer Eye while cuddling sounds like a really good idea.”

“It is. But don’t you want to get your birthday gift?”

Will’s eyes widened. “What? But I thought this dinner was already your gift for me.”

Nico’s eyes were soft as he smiled at Will. “You can say so, but I still have a gift for you.”

Nico stood up, and Will watched him as he walked to the cabinets. Nico opened one of the cabinets, the one that he dedicated to storing different kinds of pasta (he once spent a good half an hour teaching Will the differences between each type). He took something out from it and walked back to Will.

“I hope you like it,” Nico said as he gave a small black box to Will. A thin gold-colored ribbon was tied into a bow on the top of the box, holding the lid of the box in place.

Will took the box. It’s small, but too big for a ring box.

(Not that he was thinking of engagement rings, of course, or thinking about being proposed to. Nope. Not at all.)

(Yeah, he already had this jar where he saved some money that he  had planned to spend on a decent pair of rings but, no, of course he wasn’t thinking of it at all.)

He lifted his head up, looking at Nico that was already sitting back in front of him. Nico looked a bit nervous.

“Can I open it?” Will asked.

Nico nodded. “Go ahead.”

Will untied the ribbon and opened the lid. He gasped a little when he saw what was in the box.

A key was in the box, along with a round black key chain. Will carefully picked the key up and studied the key chain. On one side, an intricate sun was engraved on it, while a lyre was beautifully engraved on the other side.

“It’s Stygian iron. The key chain,” Nico said.

Will lifted his head up. “Is it…the key…?”

Nico gave him a single nod. “It’s the key to this apartment.”

“And you’re giving it to me. As a birthday gift.”

Will looked at the key in his hand again. Feeling strangely breathless.

“Well,” Nico said, and paused to clear his throat. “I mean… I like it. When you spend the time here. Or when you stay for the night. And... Yeah. This is just…a small apartment. But when you’re here, it feels like home.”

Will held the key tightly, something warm and sweet running through his veins.

“Thank you,” he said to Nico, voice cracking a bit with emotion.

“And. Uhm.” Nico paused to clear his throat again. “Well. I was just…thinking. You…we have like…four weeks more before the Spring semester ends? So. You’ll start your last year in college this year. I was thinking…”

Nico stopped, and he took a deep breath. Will watched him. His heartbeat doubled while he was waiting for Nico to continue.

“So. Will. I was thinking. What do you think of moving in? To this apartment?” Nico asked, holding his eyes at Will.

Will’s face broke into a wide smile as happiness glowed inside his chest. “Oh, Death Boy…”

Nico closed his eyes as he groaned. He opened his eyes and shook his head. “Nope. Never mind. Forget that I ever asked.”

Will grinned as he lifted the key up, showing it to Nico. “Sorry. It’s too late. I already have the key.”

Nico huffed. But then he smiled shyly. “So, I take it as a yes?”

Will leaned forward, and took Nico’s hand to hold it. “Of course it’s a yes, Nico. I’ll move in with you. We’ll make this apartment a home for us together.”

***

Notes: 1. Thank you for reading. Any feedbacks are always welcomed :) 2. Check out other works submitted to @solangeloweek. All of them are wonderful

[ghost-in-the-hella]

19 with Victoria Chase and Chloe?

For whatever reason, I can’t seem to keep chaseprice stories short! Sorry this took so long, but I hope it’s worth it. I also immediately thought chaseprice when I saw that prompt (“According to this survey, most people agree you are, in fact, a gigantic asshole.”), so thanks for being on the same page with me there :) Unbeta’d and virtually unrevised despite how long it took me to write it, so please take it with a grain of salt.

Content warnings for misogynistic insults, underage drinking and drug use, and implied attempted sexual assault. Because teens in Arcadia Bay are awful to each other.

---

Chloe hasn’t seen Rachel since the first hour of the party. She stopped even getting texts from her about twenty minutes ago. She can already feel the familiar shapes of the argument they’re going to have tomorrow morning. Chloe will accuse Rachel of ditching her and ignoring her texts. Depending on how pissed she is, she might trot out the old dead horse about being abandoned by Max and flog that for a bit while Rachel fails to keep from rolling her eyes. Then Rachel will remind her about their agreement, that they’re both free agents and maybe if Chloe acted more like a free agent and less like a cuckolded wife she wouldn’t be so pissy all the time.

It’ll go back and forth for hours with Chloe whining about her abandonment issues and Rachel claiming that Chloe’s suffocating her, and at the end of it nothing will have changed. They’ll kiss and make up like they always do, but as soon as the next Vortex Club event comes around Rachel will insist on dragging Chloe and then she’ll ditch her in a crowd of people she hates and the whole cycle will start over again.

The whole thing is fucking exhausting, and Chloe’s sick of it. 

Not as sick as Victoria Chase is, though; damn. It’s a hell of a sight: the Queen Bitch of Blackwell teetering drunkenly on ill-advised high heels - possibly only still on her feet because of the bodies of people dancing around her - and looking like she’s contemplating puking in her purse. She looks awful. 

It would be more amusing if Rachel were there to make fun of her with Chloe. It would also be more amusing if it weren’t so painfully pathetic. Chloe’s way too sober to enjoy the sordid spectacle. Being the designated driver sucks ass, especially when the literal whole point of these parties is to get wasted. 

Chloe almost jumps out of her skin when her phone suddenly - finally - buzzes in her pocket.

Rachel: U still at the party?

Chloe scowls at her phone.

Chloe: of fucking course i am

Chloe: where else would i be??

Chloe: im ur fucking dd

Rachel: o right! Srry I already caught a ride

“Are you fucking kidding me!?”

Rachel: c u 2morro tho

Rachel: 2 whales date? Not 2 early tho

Rachel: this hangover’s gona be a biiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiitch

Rachel: luv u <3 <3 <3 xoxoxo

Rachel: xxx 

Rachel: ;P

Chloe buries her phone in her pocket, fuming. She can actually feel the anger rising off of her skin like steam. Obviously there’s no reason for her to continue being a designated driver if Rachel’s already fucked off with whatever Blackwell jock or cheerleader she’s decided to rail tonight. Chloe’s free to crash on the couch tonight with the rest of the drunk losers. Pass out in the bathtub maybe. There’s tons of booze in the kitchen; she should start there. Stoners are usually in the basement; they shouldn’t be hard to sniff out. Maybe if she’s lucky she’ll find the folks who’re always doing coke in some random bedroom or office and score a noseful. It’s not like she’s got classes in the morning. She can afford to live a little, as long as she’s not actually paying for it.

Chloe starts to push her way through the crowd to the kitchen.

“Watschh where yrr fffuckin goin…” slurs a messy but recognizable voice as a hand grips Chloe’s upper arm.

Jesus Christ, Victoria’s even more wasted than Chloe thought at first glance. Her hand on Chloe’s arm might be the only thing keeping her upright at the moment, which is the only reason why Chloe doesn’t immediately tear herself away. 

“Careful, Vicky; poverty might be contagious.” Chloe attempts to pry Victoria’s fingers from around her arm to no avail.

The idiot jock standing behind Victoria laughs at that, but Victoria just looks confused. And drunk. So very, very drunk.

“Ffffug you, Chhhloe,” Victoria slurs out.

Chloe raises an eyebrow. “Wow, you must be shitfaced. That was practically my real name!” She carefully shoves Victoria back off of her arm as the jock moves to steady Victoria by holding onto her waist.

“C’mon, babe,” he says, leaning close to her ear. He grins at Chloe and winks like he thinks she’s in on some kind of conspiracy with him, which immediately pisses Chloe off. “I’ve got it from here,” he informs her.

Victoria groans something inarticulate and tries to push the jock away, but she ends up just stumbling back into his stupidly broad chest. She really shouldn’t get so drunk and wear such high heels at the same time; clearly, it’s a dangerous combination.

“Dude, I don’t think she wants to go with you,” Chloe says as calmly as she can. She really doesn’t want to get involved. She wants to get drunk and stoned and so blitzed out of her mind that she forgets all about being pissed at Rachel. She doesn’t want to get sucked into whatever drama Victoria’s got brewing tonight. But she also really doesn’t want to watch a drunk girl get mauled by some entitled meathead, even if said drunk girl is a royal pain in her ass. 

“Nah, she’s good. Just needs some fresh air. C’mon, Tori, let’s go for a walk.”

“Don’ ffffuggin call me Tori,” Victoria growls, tugging her arm out of his too-firm grip and nearly falling right off her ridiculous and undoubtedly overpriced heels. “Iss Victoria.”

The creep ignores her and tugs on her arm again, toppling her into his body once more. “It’s cool,” he attempts to assure Chloe. “We’re friends. I’ll get her home safe.”

“She definitely doesn’t want to go with you. Let her go.”

“Dude, be cool! She’s just being a bitch. You know what Tori’s like.” He holds Victoria’s wrists to curtail her squirming.

“Fuggoff!”

Chloe cracks her knuckles loudly enough to get the jock’s attention. “I’ve got better things to do with my left hand tonight than break it on your nose, but if you don’t unhand her in the next five seconds I’ll do it anyway.”

That gives the jock pause, but he doesn’t look like he quite believes her. “You wouldn’t.”

Chloe shrugs. “If you don’t believe me, why don’t you ask Logan why his nose slants to the right? Although he’ll probably lie. Ask his ex-girlfriend; she’ll tell you the truth.”

---

As Chloe guides a stumbling and incessantly bitching Victoria through the dark toward her truck, she silently curses every decision in her life that led her to this moment. It’s actually not that different from drunk-walking Rachel home after a party, except that when Victoria keeps touching her boob it’s probably accidental. Probably.

“Where’ss Nathan?” Victoria whines, head lolling onto Chloe’s shoulder and smearing a healthy quantity of expensive makeup into her favorite Firewalk shirt. Which is fine. Not like Chloe can’t just steal another one next time they have a 2010 tour. Time travel’s a thing, right?

“I have no idea where Prescock is. Surprised he’s not doing shots out of your cleavage.”

Victoria’s trying to text, but she keeps almost dropping her phone. “Where are theese bisches?” Victoria grumbles as her manicured fingers jab and swipe at the screen of her phone with the dexterity of a toddler with two handfuls of butter. “Sposdt to be my frens…” 

Victoria’s entire focus is on her phone when it should really be on walking. Chloe tugs her upright and tries to steer her for the umpteenth time. “Can it wait til we’re in the truck at least?”

Victoria grinds to a halt and finally tears her eyes from her phone. “M’not gedding into that… that…” Victoria flails at Chloe’s truck and nearly falls over. “Deathtrap.”

“You had to get a tetanus shot to live in the dorms, right? You’ll be fine.” Chloe grips Victoria’s elbow with one hand to keep her upright and wrangles the passenger door open with the other. “Go on, get in.”

Victoria glares at Chloe foggily. “Are you khhidnappng me, Price?”

“...That’s a joke, right?”

Victoria whacks Chloe solidly in the sternum with her phone. “B’cause I’ll haf you know, my frens will put your assss in jail like that.” Victoria tries and fails to snap her fingers, then stares at them as if she cannot comprehend why they are not obeying her.

Chloe rubs at her sore sternum in annoyance. “Yeah, well, maybe your ‘frens’ should be the ones getting your drunk ass safely back to the dorms instead of abandoning you and letting random creepers paw at you. Then maybe I could get my drunk on in peace instead of wasting my weekend cleaning your puke out of my truck.”

Chloe’s expecting some pushback. Victoria hasn’t even touched her truck, much less puked in it. What she isn’t expecting is for Victoria to shove her phone in Chloe’s face. “You texx thm.” Victoria reaches for the door handle, yanks the door open, and unsteadily clambers into Chloe’s truck.

“Ow, what the fuck! You want me to text your friends?”

“Tell’m yer kidnappin me.”

“Uh, okay, no, I’m not doing that. But I can text your friends if there’s someone you’d rather get a ride with.”

Chloe carefully shuts Victoria’s door and walks around her truck to the driver’s side, thumbing through Victoria’s message history. She tries Nathan first, even though she can see that Victoria’s last ten messages to him have gone unanswered.

Victoria: hey victoria needs a safe ride back to the dorms. can you come get her?

Nathan: whothFUCKisthis

Victoria: a good samaritan. seriously tho your friend is halfway to passed out, can you help?

Nathan: fuckoffBITCH

Victoria: god why does victoria even like you?

She tries Courtney next.

Victoria: hey victoria needs a safe ride back to the dorms. can you come get her?

Courtney: I don’t know, can Victoria not call my boyfriend a MAN WHORE?

“We’re 0 for 2, Victoria. What’s the name of that blonde girl you’re always hanging around with?”

“Sweetie…”

“Um, what?”

“Goddddd you’re fuckn incomph-- incump-- incompetant. Sweet. T.”

“I have no idea what you’re-- Oh.” Jesus, the girl is literally in Victoria’s phone as Sweet-T. Gaaaaaaayyyy. 

Victoria: hey victoria needs a safe ride back to the dorms. can you come get her?

Sweet-T: Victoria? Victoria Chase?

Sweet-T: BWAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAH

Sweet-T: AHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA

Sweet-T: Tell that bitch good luck. 

Sweet-T: Actually wait don’t.

Sweet-T: Tell her to choke.

Sweet-T: Btw Taylor lost her phone.

“Uhh, looks like ‘Sweet-T’ lost her phone. And it’s fallen into the hands of someone who completely hates your pretentious ass; no big surprise there.”

Chloe starts texting Victoria’s contacts at random as Victoria sulks. Most people don’t even respond. The responses she does get are… not encouraging.

Zach: sup biiiiiiiiiiitttcccccccchhhhhh yeah i’ll give vicky a ride ON MY DICK

Hayden: new fone who dis

Brooke: Who is this and how did you get my number? Don’t ever text me again.

Dana: I gott a ride w Jules srry

Juliet: Already back at the dorms. Good luck I guess. 

Logan: fukk that bisch wut

“Well, Victoria, looks like none of your friends are coming to help. So you can either let me give you a ride back to campus, or you can pass out on a couch inside and hope for the best.”

“What th hell djou say to them??”

“Just that you needed a safe ride to the dorms. That’s all.”

“Bullsshhhitt. You pissed them off.”

Chloe laughs out loud at that. “I pissed them off?? You pissed them off by being a gigantic asshole!”

“M’ noddan asshole.”

“Oh, no? Well…” Chloe holds up Victoria’s phone and waves it in front of her face. “According to this survey, most people agree you are, in fact, a gigantic asshole.”

Which is how Chloe ends up comforting a sobbing Victoria Chase in a stranger’s driveway and wishing she’d never been born.

---

Chloe: dude. Srsly. Fuck u for abandoning me at that fucking vc party.

Rachel: chloe?

Rachel: wat timesit?

Rachel: w happnd?

Chloe: its 3am

Chloe: and victoria FUCKING chase is passed out on me

Rachel: ur joking

Rachel: omg

Rachel: pls take a pic

Chloe: this isnt funny rach

Rachel: it’s fucking hilarious!

Chloe: its SAD.

Rachel: Wait so

Rachel: did you fuck her?

Chloe: WHAT????

Chloe: NO!!!!!

Rachel: Oh good bc I don’t think there’s enough bleach in the world to clean your soul after fucking victoria chase

Chloe: she’s drunk AF

Chloe: her friends ditched her 

Chloe: and i kinda called her an asshole

Chloe: so she cried on my shoulder until she passed out

Chloe: and now i’m trapped

Rachel: Poor baby.

Rachel: Chew your arm off?

Chloe: not funny.

Rachel: Again, totally funny.

Chloe: Srsly tho, what should i do???

Rachel: idk

Rachel: sneak out?

Chloe: we’re in my truck

Rachel: hahahahahahahaha

Rachel: of course you are

Rachel: so wake her bitch ass up!

---

Victoria Chase snores. Nothing in the world could have prepared Chloe for that knowledge. She also drools, which is unfortunate for the state of Chloe’s jacket. Not that it’s the cleanest thing in the world anyway, but still. It’s the principle of the thing.

Victoria’s normally immaculate hair is in a state of total chaotic disarray. At least half of her makeup is gone, and what remains is smeared artlessly all over her face. She smells like a brewery. Chloe’s arm has fallen asleep under the weight of her head. Chloe envies it. The sweet release of sleep would be infinitely preferable to the intense awkwardness of being conscious right now.

The moonlight paints Victoria’s face in delicate shades of pale, highlighting the refined angles of her cheekbone, her jawline, her nose. She’s snoring and drooling and messy and the most utterly awful person; it shouldn’t be possible for her to be beautiful in this moment.

And yet. And yet.

Chloe should shove her awake. She should push Victoria off her shoulder, buckle up both of their seatbelts, and deposit her safely back at the dorms (because even though Victoria’s an objectively horrible person, that doesn’t mean that Chloe is). Chloe should abandon ship, let Victoria sleep it off in the front of her truck while Chloe returns to the party and drinks until she can’t remember what Victoria looks like in the moonlight. Maybe if she drinks enough, by the time she’s sober enough to drive Victoria will have sobered up and found her own way home.

Victoria makes a sleepy sort of grumbling sound and shifts against Chloe’s shoulder, draping an arm over Chloe’s middle and snuggling close. Her hair tickles Chloe’s neck and jaw as it sticks out at peculiar angles, and Chloe wants to laugh or possibly die. There’s really nowhere else for Chloe’s arm to go, so it ends up wrapped around Victoria. Victoria lets out a sound that’s disturbingly close to a contented sigh.

“Hey... Vic?”

“Mphgmhm?”

“Um… Are you aware that you’re cuddling me like I’m your long-lost childhood teddy bear?”

“Grhmphgm.”

“Uh. ‘Kay. Long as you know.”

“Mphkm.” Victoria nuzzles into Chloe’s shoulder, squeezing her tighter. Chloe awkwardly pats her side and Victoria sighs again.

“Hey, uh… I’m sorry about what I said before. I mean, not about you being an asshole, ‘cause I’m not gonna lie. But about your friends. I’m… sure your friends do like you, really.”

Victoria shrugs a little, frowning delicately. “Dsnmttr. Sleeb.”

Sleep. Okay. That’s theoretically possible. Chloe’s slept in more uncomfortable positions in this very truck, after all. So she closes her eyes and rests her head against the back of her seat, and she listens to the steady rhythm of Victoria’s breathing until the world begins to fade into a comforting void.

Shit’s going to be awkward in the morning. But, well. That can wait until the morning.

[97sunsh1ne]

café boy (pt. 2/4)

➳ collegestudent!hhj x collegestudent!reader (gender neutral)

➳ fluff!!

➳ wc: 875

(part 1 here!)

“... and remember, your analysis of Oluo’s writing shouldn’t come from the perspective of a well-educated college student, it should come from the perspective of the audience she is aiming to really speak to: middle-class adults who barely have their GEDs, bored teenagers with big brains, and the old people who still call Asians “oriental” and black people “colored”, you hear? Now get out of here- I expect great things!” 

Dr. Choi had hardly gotten her last word out before you were bolting out the lecture hall door, and down the slowly filling hallway. 

Modern Analysis and Writing was your last class every Friday, and although it was supposed to end at 2:45, Dr. Choi was very long winded, and you were lucky if you got out before 3:15. She was an excellent teacher, and most of the time, you loved staying after class and getting her input on your work. However, recently, you were sitting on the edge of your seat and counting down the minutes on the clock, silently begging her to keep her monologuing to a minimum. 

“Hey! Y/N!” You had your hand on the glass door, but swiveled your head around to see Felix trying to get to you through the crowd of students. For a moment, you considered ignoring him and making a run for it. You were already constructing an apology text in your head when you heard his voice a few feet away from you. 

“y/n.”

“Yes?” You turned and smiled sweetly, batting your eyelashes. Felix rolled his eyes and chuckled as he walked up next to you, pushing open the door. 

“Don’t act like you weren’t just thinking about ignoring me and walking away.” He chuckled while you frowned. 

“What? I would never!” He laughed at your sarcasm, and playfully shoved your shoulder with his. 

“Where’re you going, anyway? I know you’re not desperate to get back to your apartment, and the three loads of laundry you’ve been avoiding.” 

“Look, I’ll get it done this weekend, after I finish my analysis for Choi.” 

“Mhm.”

“I will! I promise!” 

“Why are you walking so fast? y/n.” Felix was practically jogging to keep up with you, and he grabbed you by the arm, turning you around to search your face. He raised his eyebrows, expecting an answer. You avoided his eyes. He gasped, 

“You’re going to that café, aren’t you!” He let go of your arm and smirked. 

“Maybe! It’s not against the law, Felix.” He rolled his eyes. 

“Would you just ask him out already?” 

You choked on your spit, flustered. Felix chuckled,

“See! You clearly like him, and he’s pretty cute. But, If you’re not gonna do anything about it, then you need to start moving on, instead of racing to that café every day after class just so you can see him!” 

You groaned, and turned as Felix started walking next to you again, responding,

“You’re right.”

He smiled at you, as he pulled a bag of chips out of his bag, still walking towards the direction of the café. 

“I know I am, now- here- you want some?” He offered you the bag, and you took a few chips as you walked. 

“What do I even say? How the hell do you ask someone out?” 

“Ask him if he wants to go catch a movie or something after he’s done studying, if he ever does finish studying.” 

Before you could answer, a muscled boy with fluffy black hair walked up next to Felix, placed his arm around his shoulders, and pecked him on the cheek. Felix giggled, and answered, 

“Hey babe, get out of class early?” 

“Yeah, the old man was feeling generous today.” Felix looked over at you, and you responded, 

“Wow, Professor Kim? You sure he wasn’t high or something?” 

“Dude, I know.” Changbin chuckled, “Mind if I tag along? where were you guys headed?” 

“I was just walking y/n here to the café so they could finally grow a pair and ask out Hyunjin!” Felix drawled out as he offered Changbin some chips. 

“Really?” Changbin looked at you, eyes wide. 

“Don’t act so surprised! I can be brave!”

“Mhm.” 

Felix playfully smacked his chest, 

“Hey! Be nice, they’re gonna do it, because if they don’t, I’ll kick their ass, you know, for their own good.”  

“Gotcha.” Changbin wiggled his eyebrows as you groaned in anguish. 

“What the hell am I gonna do?” 

“I don’t know, but I’m sure you’ll figure it out, with that big brain of yours.” Felix stopped walking and turned to you, smiling at your expression. 

“C’mon, it’ll be okay!” Changbin added. Felix turned to him and asked, 

“Wanna go back to my place and watch anime and make out? We can order pizza.” 

Changbin shrugged with his head and answered, “Sure.” 

Felix turned to you, grinning,

“See? Just like that! Maybe leave out the making out part though, that’s a little forward for a first date.” 

You smiled sarcastically, and added, 

“Yeah, thanks. Very helpful!” 

Though Felix and Changbin were already walking away from you, Felix turned to shout, “I BELIEVE IN YOU!” and Changbin said, “Good luck, y/n!” 

You ran your hands through your hair, sucked in a deep breath, and began walking towards the airy café.

(part 3 here!)

[loveforpreserumsteve]

Those Who Fall: “APTF” Story (Modern Domestic Stucky AU)

Twelve:

By the following Wednesday, the family had a new schedule. Despite Steve and Bucky both telling Wanda that she didn't have to, she insisted on making breakfast and dinner. Claiming that she liked to cook. And considering the pair didn't want to ruin this bond they were creating with her, they let her. If she got there first, of course.

That morning, however, Wanda was preoccupied helping Sophia with her hair. Since it was Homecoming Spirit Week for the entire school district, even the younger kids got to participate. Which Steve preferred after the years where the younger foster kids were deeply upset that the older kids got to dress silly while they didn't.

While Bucky made French toast, Wanda stood behind Sophia while she sat at the island. Having twisted the front of her hair into a cone shape and pulled the rest of it into a high ponytail, Wanda secured it with an elastic. Picking up the Little Mermaid brush, she started teasing it.

"You're good at that," Steve commented, watching the pair while he toasted a couple of marshmallows.

Wanda blushed, "I was in cosmetology school."

"Was?" Bucky questioned, flipping a slice of browned bread.

Focusing even further on Sophia's hair, Wanda didn't say anything. Steve and Bucky exchanged a look. Similar to the one they shared when they found out that she had dropped out of high school when she was sixteen and gotten her GED instead. But neither were going to comment on it.

"Do we have clothes pins?"

Steve took the golden mallows off the flame and turned to look over at Luke. Brows furrowed as he answered, "They should be in the laundry room. Why?"

Without answering, the older boy rushed through the house and headed down the stairs to the lower level. Steve was even more confused, but he decided not to dwell on it. Easily redirecting his attention to the sweets in his hands. Making sure that they were cool to touch, Steve walked around the island to Ethan.

The six year old's white-blond hair had been colored red, orange, and yellow with some wash-out hair color sprays. Wanda had already shaped it into a mohawk and now all Steve needed to do was to clip in the hair clips that they had glued twigs to. Four hair clips all together and Steve tried make it seem more organic in their placement.

"Breakfast's done," Bucky declared, setting a plate with a large mound of French toast. Making a silly face for Holly to laugh at, Bucky said, "I'm gonna hop in the shower now."

"Alright, honey," Steve said, studying Ethan's wacky hair.

"Whoa!" Steve heard Bucky say from the living room.

Glancing that way, Steve's brows arched high on his forehead as he spotted Luke. With colorful plastic clothes pins latched onto the defined curls created from the sponge, Luke reminded Steve of a porcupine. A very cute porcupine that any girl would be lucky to date, but a porcupine.

"Okay," Wanda said, setting the brush down. Helping Sophia off the stool, she led her out to the deck where she could use the washable dyes on Sophia's hair.

Steve watched the two for a moment. Wanda had the eight year old cover her face with her tiny hands. After shaking the cans, Wanda sprayed. Not too much, just enough. Making sure that Sophia's hair was just lightly colored pink, purple, and white. Once those were done, she went around with the glitter spray.

As it turned out, Wanda was more than just good at hair, she was good with the kids in general. Even if she had only been there for a week -- tomorrow -- Steve had a feeling that she was there to stay. Or at least he really, really, hoped.

"Do you know how to get hairspray paint stains out of clothes?" Wanda asked as soon as they returned inside the house.

"Um," Steve made a face, "I don't. I usually just have paint colored clothes."

Wanda chewed on her lip as she looked at her protruding 20 week baby bump. Although Steve had taken her shopping, and she had picked out a couple of cute outfits, she still preferred to sleep in the sweats that she borrowed that first night. Not that either Steve or Bucky minded. Steve doubted that Bucky would mind that an old sweatshirt suddenly had paint stains. After all, he had plenty of them to thank Steve for.

"Don't worry about it," Steve assured.

"Wanda, do you want syrup or powdered sugar?" Luke asked, divvying up the breakfast stack.

Wanda tapped her fingers against her small bump and answered, "Both."

Ethan looked up at Wanda like she was a revelation as he asked, "You can do that?" Then he turned his gaze on Steve. As though betrayed, he said, "I want both."

"Oh, no," Steve shut that down immediately.

Personally offended, Ethan slapped his hands on the island counter, "How come Wanda gets both?"

"Because," Steve started and paused. Trying to think of a good enough excuse, he explained, "It's a vote from both Wanda and the baby."

"That sucks!"

"Hey, little man," Steve reprimanded while Sophia's jaw dropped so far that her half-chewed slice of French toast nearly tumbled out of it. "That's a No-No Phrase, and you know it."

Ethan slumped in his seat and pushed the slices of French toast covered in powdered sugar around. Steve took in a deep breath and gave Luke a look. Especially when the older boy was attempted to refrain from laughing. Shaking his head, Steve walked over to the high chair and started feeding Holly.

"Babe!" Bucky called out.

"Honey!" Steve replied, opening his mouth wide and getting the ten month old to mimic him.

"Have you seen that green tie?" Bucky asked, returning to the kitchen.

Continuing feeding the baby he said, "Gonna need you to be just a little more specific there, Buck."

"The light one," Bucky barely clarified. When Steve quirked a brow, Bucky said, "Not the mint green, but the brighter one. The one that Sophia always calls my, 'Happy Tie.'"

Steve paused his feeding to glance back at the eight year old, "Daddy's tie is missing, you have any clue where it is?"

Sophia ducked her chin down to her chest, "Barbie and her friends were having a fashion show."

"Missy, we're going to have a long sit down later. Ya got me?" Bucky said, arching his brows and waiting for a moment until Sophia looked up at him.

"I got ya," Sophia finally answered.

"Good," Bucky sweetly smiled at her before turning to head upstairs to her bedroom.

"Sophia Rose," Steve sighed, gaining her attention. "We just talked about how it's not nice to take things that aren't yours without asking."

"But Barbie needed a --"

"No," Steve shook his head. Exasperated, he reminded, "We just bought Barbie some more accessories a couple of weeks ago." Before Sophia could defend herself further, Steve continued, "Let's make a deal. If you don't take anyone's things for two weeks, we'll go and pick out some holiday accessories. How's that sound?"

Sophia's eyes lit up and she eagerly agreed. Steve smiled, pleased with himself and happy for making his daughter happy. When Holly started getting fussy, Steve got back to feeding her. Having added some mushed up blueberries was a hit. Usually, Holly tapped out of eating her baby cereal by now. So, Steve definitely had to remember this, and wondered how she'd feel about pumpkin.

"Okay," Bucky announced his presence as he entered the kitchen. Tightening the tie's knot at his neck, Bucky asked, "How do I look?"

"So handsome," Steve answered, not looking at his husband as he used the spoon to gather the mush from Holly's face. Her cute little tongue peeking out of her mouth to lick the food from around her mouth.

"Steve," Bucky whined, resting his chin on the top of Steve's head, "You didn't even look."

For a moment, Bucky held Holly's attention as he must've been making silly faces because she started giggling. Her happy laughter making her face red as she kicked her legs in glee. Once it turned into squealing, Steve decided they should get back to breakfast.

"So, ask the kids," Steve teased, earning a poke to his side that made him playfully flinch.

Bucky removed his chin from where it was resting and took a step back, "Well?"

"You look nice," Wanda kindly answered while Luke dismissively said, "Good? I guess?"

"Thank you," Bucky accepted.

"I like your tie, daddy!" Ethan cheerfully replied with a full mouth.

Steve looked over his shoulder at that. Playfully, narrowing his eyes at the little boy and pointing accusingly at him. Ethan's mouth snapped shut, and Steve smiled at the little boy while Bucky said, "Thanks, bub."

"You look handsome, daddy! Like a Ken doll," Sophia complimented.

"Like a Ken doll," Bucky repeated, walking around the island with a small stack of French toast for himself. Sitting down between Sophia and Steve, Bucky avoided the sticky top of the little girl's currently colorful head and kissed her cheek as he said, "Thank you, sweetheart."

Steve glanced back over his shoulder to his husband. Allowing his gaze to run over his broad shoulders, down his chest, and to his lap before traveling back up to Bucky's face. The attractive bastard had the audacity to have a smug smirk on his face with his brows arched amusedly on his forehead.

"You look good, honey," Steve leaned in, so only the brunet would hear, "Real good."

Bucky kissed his temple and whispered, "Tease."

[monsterlovinghours]

More Than I Deserve

So here is the long coming second chapter of my self insert fic. @beetlejuicebeadoll this is for you, sorry about the number of times I said I'd post and didn't.

Tw: mentions of death, suicide attempt, depression. Chapter 1 is here.

The first few weeks in his new digs had been...frustrating. She just didn't seem scared of anything. Bugs crawling on her? She laughed and swatted them off, replying that she had lived in roach infested apartments and this was nothing new. Severed head in the cupboard? Nothing more than a gasp, a press of her hand to her chest, and a "very funny!" Shadowy figure standing in her closet, doors opening and closing on their own, disembodied voices and reaching hands clawing out from the walls? Acknowledged and dismissed, as if she were observing the weather. Not a single scream. Beetlejuice tugged at his hair, growling to himself. What the fuck was this weirdo afraid of?

Finally, when she had had the audacity to laugh at a dark figure skittering across her ceiling, he appeared in her room, hands thrown above his head and scowling. "Alright, I give up. What the fuck makes you tick? What are you afraid of?"

Molly had stared at him for a moment, then shrugged, lips pressed together as if to suppress a smile. "When you know the house is haunted, it isn't scary anymore."

He opened his mouth to argue, then sighed, dropping his head in defeat. "You make a good point."

"In any case, why do you have to try and scare me? Do you want me to leave?" Her voice held notes of earnestness, genuine curiosity. "Is it the house you want?"

"No! No, I don't want your house, goddammit." He folded his arms grumpily across his chest; this wasn't how a haunting worked. "This is just how these things go. This is what I'm supposed to do."

"Why?"

Beetlejuice paused, absently tugging some loose threads from the sleeve of his blazer. It was a while before he answered, his voice still carrying that signature rasp, and yet softer somehow. Pensive. "Y'know...I don't really know anymore."

Molly stood from the chair she had been reclining on, and reached for him. Out of instinct, he drew back, looking untrustingly down at her hand, and her heart gave an odd lurch in her chest. Still, she let her fingertips graze over the back of his hand, his skin as cold and smooth as marble. "Maybe you can just, you know, live here. Well, not live." To her relief, a hint of a smile tugged at his lips. "Its okay for you to just be here. Honestly, I kind of like having you around."

He snickered. "Babes, you're so full of shit, your eyes are turning brown." His posture relaxed a bit as she laughed, and she took his hand between hers, warm palms pressing around his fingers. God, that felt nice. 

"No, really. The house doesn't feel so empty now. It's a welcome change."

Once again, he chuckled, grasping her wrist and tugging her against his side, slinging his arm over her shoulder. "You're fucking weird, kid."

It did take some adjusting; after all, there was a bit of a learning curve when it came to dead/living cohabitation. But once he stopped pushing her out of bed because he was bored and she got used to the smell of damp earth on everything, it was remarkably pleasant. He was an oddly good conversationalist, having been around for longer than she could really comprehend, and would sit cross legged in midair, gesticulating wildly, his expression animated as he told her story after story. She didn't shy away from the fact that he had killed people; but then, by now, he didn't expect her to. "You're not trying to kill me," she explained, "so what does it matter? You're a demon, I expect human lives aren't as sacred to you."

"You know, you probably shouldn't be as chill with this as you are," he joked.

"Mm. Maybe. Death doesn't really faze me anymore."

The smile on his face faded slightly. "Lose someone?"

A pause. "Everyone." She looked up at him, pulling her knees to her chest and wrapping her arms around them. "Why do you think no one ever comes by?"

All was quiet for a long, long moment. “Look, babes, I’m not that great with...y’know, human shit. Emotions.” With a sigh, he settled down beside her, legs kicked up on her coffee table. “But if you wanna talk about it, I’m listening.”

She lifted her head, a soft smile on her face that didn’t touch her eyes. “Careful, or I might think you have a heart in there somewhere.” Her gaze faraway, she spoke, her tone carefully measured and emotionless. “Where I grew up wasn’t exactly a great place. It was a small town, most people were dirt poor. We weren’t well-off, but we were comfortable enough. Grew up just fine. The neighbor kids weren’t as lucky. Their parents made meth and child abuse into an art form.” Absently, she picked at the chipping dark green nail polish on her right thumb, still gazing into the far distance. “When I was fifteen, my older sister had her high school graduation party at the house, and my whole family came. Like, the whole family. Aunts, uncles, cousins, second cousins. The whole gang. I was a little shit and didn’t want to socialize, so I snuck out and went for a walk. Didn’t feel like they’d miss me anyway. Turns out the neighbors were cooking up a big batch of fresh methamphetamine that day, and something went wrong. The explosion was so big it took out half the block. My house and everyone inside included.” She snapped her fingers. “Just like that. My whole family, vaporized.”

“Jesus, kid,” he said softly. 

“It took me five years to really process everything, you know? At first it was pandemonium. The state got involved, since I was a minor, and no one could figure out what to do with me. Too old for foster care, not old enough to live on my own. I was checked out, barely spoke to anyone, and frankly didn’t care if I lived or died, so I literally didn’t give a shit where I ended up. I floated around for a while, until I was sixteen and could legally live on my own. Turns out Mom, Dad, and both sets of grandparents named me in their wills, so I ended up inheriting quite a bit of money. I bought a shitty apartment in a shitty little town and did nothing but marinate in a delicious stew of survivor’s guilt and PTSD for four more years.” There was bitterness in her tone; he could almost taste it in his mouth. She returned to picking at her nail polish, not even attempting to look up at him. “Then I started getting my shit together. Got my GED, took online university courses and got a bachelor’s in library science. Started going to therapy, started talking to people. Got a job. I relearned how to be a person all over again. I even got a girlfriend.” At last, she looked up at him, as if challenging him to say something, or perhaps gauging his reaction to her sexuality. When his expression didn’t change, Molly lowered her head and continued.

“She lived upstate, about a two hour drive away. We met online through a literature forum.”

“Pff. Nerd.”

Molly gave a soft huff of something close to laughter. “We hit it off, I took a leap and asked her out, and we dated long distance for two years. She was the first person I was ever in love with, the only person I’d gotten close to since my family died. Then around Christmas on the third year of our relationship, she was driving down to see me...and she hit black ice and went off the road. Killed instantly. I found out about it two days later because her brother found me on Facebook. Her parents...they didn’t know she was a lesbian. They would have made her life hell if they knew. I couldn’t even attend her funeral.” Once she stopped talking, the house seemed unnaturally silent, as if even small sounds were muffled under the weight of her suffering. “After that, I just kind of...shut off again. I figured I was cursed or something, that I wasn’t meant to be around people. I bought this house, found a job editing online articles, and that is the story of how I ended up being the town recluse at the ripe old age of twenty-eight.”

He was quiet; what could he possibly say? Throughout his long, long existence, he had seen worse things than the life she had described to him...but not many, and not by much. There hadn’t been a single human interaction in the time he’d been here, he hadn’t seen her leave the house except to take the trash to the curb once a week. Yet, she seemed...stable. At peace with it all somehow. There was a current of strength running through her, of fire-tested resilience that he begrudgingly admired. Beetlejuice glanced down at her and saw that she was staring expectantly up at him, as if waiting to see what he was going to say. With an easy smirk, he knocked her shoulder with his. “So...you’re into the ladies, huh?”

Molly was silent for a moment, then burst out laughing, awkwardly swinging her fist to land a glancing blow on his chest. “Really, you dick? I bare my soul, my whole tragic life story, and the only thing you take away is that I’m into girls?!”

Chortling, he dodged her second swing easily, darting forward to perch on the edge of the coffee table. “Can’t help having a one-track mind, babes. That explains why you haven’t fallen for my roguish charms yet.”

Scoffing good-naturedly, she relaxed back into the couch; he was relieved to see her posture ease, her body more relaxed after a break in the tension. “Oh, is that what you call it? Besides, what makes you think I’m only into girls, slick?”

He raised an eyebrow, all but leering at her. “Swinging for both teams, doll? I won’t lie...that’s pretty fucking hot.” He could practically hear her eyes rolling, but she laughed softly. It was quiet for a moment, then he reached for her hand. Ever since she had taken his in her own, he had slowly been testing the boundaries of how much touch she allowed. Hand-holding was fine, a casual arm slung over her shoulder was tolerated, but anything beyond that and she would flinch and ease away. Though, knowing what he knew now of her past, touch must be something she was unused to. Now, as easy as anything, his fingers meshed between hers, squeezing softly and holding back a sigh at the hot press of her living skin against his. “Hey, uh...thanks for telling me. Family shit isn’t easy to deal with.”

A beat, and then she squeezed back. "Thanks for listening." She smiled. "You know, for being a demon...you're pretty nice to me."

"Yeah? Well, don't read into it, babes, I'm just trying to get in your pants."

His eyes followed her as she laughed and stood, lingering with her hand in his for a moment before letting go and padding barefoot into the kitchen, a strange expression creasing his brow when her back was turned. Slowly, at the very roots, the tiniest flush of pink tinged his hair. This wasn't how hauntings were supposed to go. The dead were not supposed to feel, especially for the living. This was unnatural, topsy-turvy, wrong in every way, but even so, he was grateful that she had decided to try that summoning spell; after observing her in his time here and learning about her usual practice (what she called "green magic"), he knew now how outside the norm such a dark spell was. Yet she had called him, said his name with no hesitation. Hell, she had all but put out a welcome mat. For him. The pink in his hair slowly began to spread upwards as the barest hint of a smile tugged at the corners of his mouth; not a smirk, a grin, or a disingenuous lopsided curl of the lip, but a genuine smile. Perhaps just being here wouldn’t be so bad after all.

[iphoenixrising]

you know, I really love how badass and capable Tim is but I’m weak for the trope where a character gets in a bad sitch (maybe held captive) and their love interests go nuts trying to get them back and they’re furious seeing he’s hurt and restrained (baddie tied + gagged them too tight?)when they do rescue him maybe Jay and Dick are so tender and caring oof what are your thoughts?

WELL BABE. I mean with characters like Tim Drake and Tony Stark, overprotective (boy)friends tearing through bad guy installations with feral intent to get Tim/Tony back just waters my crops and clears my skin. It’s fucking beautiful.

I mean, let’s just say

Once and a while, every vigilante has a bad fucking night.

It just happen to be Red Robin’s turn.

The residual owfuck isn’t going anywhere anytime soon. That is, once he gets himself out of this before terrible bad guys with an apparent fetish for brass knuckles and knives come back to finish the job. After a lucky shot took his zip line out mid-leap, the night had gone from generally shitty to progressively worse. Catching a hard fire escape knocked him mostly out on the way down. He’d initially come to when the fist to his solar plexus is just about agonizing.

Whatever hits he’d taken on the way down to the street damaged the suit’s security, which is the only reason it didn’t shock the shit out of anyone when they grabbed him by the arms, held him there for the first round of blows.

It’s an occasional thing, for one of them to get balls deep in imminent fucking peril. There’s nights when sleep dep and stress, the day job and night job colliding, too many bads and not enough goods, nights when a one wrong step, one bad contingency, one hesitation, is enough for them to get the drop.

Which leads them to this disgustingly dingy, blood-splattered warehouse down on the East Side, where Red is dangling from a chain in the ceiling like a side of raw beef for the slaughter.

And while blood is sluggishly running down the side of his face and his jaw feels like it’s on fire, while his gauntlets are useless and the manacles are on fucking point, when his chest fucking hurts and the fire in his side makes his eyes water because really, just a concussion can’t be enough.

(R – Robert, heh.)

When he’s giving himself a few minutes to just breathe it out, take a second to let the pain settle, half in meditation to try getting mentally past this for an epic kind of escape he’s about to pull off.

Any minute now.

But really, he just had a rough night, and the fact these ass hats left the damn door open is really just a testament on how easy this is going to be once he feels up to taking down a few thugs or twenty.

(And just why did he have to walk into an impromptu gun fight between two rival gangs that decided to work together instead – against him. What’s taken the groups out of the room is arguments on who was going to get the glory and what bosses to call and inform. He’s pretty sure he’s got about at least ten minutes or so before everyone comes back for another few rounds of kick the shit out of the vigilante.)

So, he’s good. Totally got this.

It’s in the bag.

Ten minutes.

His forearms get tight, wrists immobile when he starts pulling his weight up to get some slack on the connecting chain, going to need to have room to pick the locks–

when the abrupt tremble and loud sounds of shit just breaking comes through the open door, jarring him too much for his warped brain pan to handle, and he drops back down a few inches, grunting with the jerking motions on his upper body.

Gunfire explodes and people are absolutely screaming. Things get a little more real because at this juncture, it could be anything from more fighting between themselves or another rival group walking in on an obvious base of operations.

It’s apparent he’s out of time when several come running back in, guns out, panicked and talking over one another.

Dammit. His brain hurts.

But even if his fingers are numb still in his glove, he’s slowly working the lock pick set out of his useless gauntlets, looking forward to getting free fast enough to take out the room before even thinking of taking on the fuckery happening behind that door.

What he expects is to get more roughed up before the night is over. What he doesn’t expect is for a body to slam into the room, blood arching in the same angle as the nice landing right at Red Robin’s bound feet dangling a few inches off the ground. The second body immediately following fell close enough for Red’s whiteouts to narrow down at the face beaten to hamburger, a thoughtful noise muffled through the gag shoved in his mouth.

He has a moment to register, that looks familiar, before the impressive silhouettes fill the door, and the calvary has apparently arrived.

To say he is literally boned is probably an understatement because he can see the tension all over them. Tight fists and forearms, shoulders squared, thighs tense, and game faces right the hell on.

It’s the terrifying vigilantes Nightwing and the Red Hood, towers of kicking ass and taking names –

and the thugs in the room gape at the picture those two make, blood sprays all over their suits, smoking barrels and sparking escrima sticks, lips curled up off N’s teeth to snarl, Hood to lower his chin enough that those whiteouts are fixed.

He catches a breath through his mouth since he’s pretty sure his nose is broken or dislocated, beaten body tensing for one of the thugs to get smart, turn, and fire at him.

But, it doesn’t happen because the Red Hood and Nightwing strike like an avenging wave of brutally beautiful justice. They move together like water, the fight never stopping until the bodies are piled high, a job well done. And as much as Red Robin would like to say he feels something crazily like relief, the all together different noise he makes through the gag is telling on what else watching them fight (for him) does to him.

“Aww, Big Wing, lookit what those fuckers did,” is slightly distorted through the synths, and he must have blinked a little too long because suddenly both of his vigilante boyfriends are right there, bracketing him in, being absurdly careful when they run gloved hands over him to find injuries. Hood goes for the gag tied so harshly, N hurriedly helping from behind him.

“Hey Baby, you with us?” is soft and gentle, the contrast to the savage beat-down N just had a hand in a few minutes ago.

Once the cloth is out of his dry mouth, gloved fingers rub the indents, and the helmet is tilted up at him.

“H-how did–”

“Shh, shh. Gonna getcha down, yeah? S’good, Sweets, we gotchu.” Already stretching up on his toes to work the manacles fast while N sweeps up his bound legs from behind, holding him up to take the weight off his wrists.

“There we go,” and a nuzzle against his face, sweet relief when his wrist and hands pop free, and he tries to work the feeling back in his fingers, laying against Nightwing’s chest for just a moment to be dizzy and relieved.

“Thanks for the save,” Red Robin woozily banters, “bad guys can be such ass hats.”

“Don’t I know it,” Hood gives a solid kick to one of the bodies twitching on the floor before coming around to gently fit a gloved hand on Red’s bruised jaw, thumb the mask so the whiteouts slide up and they can see how dazed his eyes are. He n’ N exchange a worried glance while Red pats the hand on his jaw and maneuvers himself out of the octopus hold, a little wobbly but still on point.

“All right, I’m on clean-up since I was the metaphorical damsel this time–” is cut off with a whoosh of breath when he leans over enough to brace a hand on the wall when owfuck gets a little more serious than he expects.

“Nothin’ doin’.” Is Hood nipping that little sitch in the bud, already a towering presence at his side, a heavy arm sliding around his back, “me n’ N done already gave the coppers a heads-up, you feel me, Sweets?”

“We’ve already tied up most the rivals in the building,” Nightwing soothes the one to step up into his space and tilt his face up this time, “and you are going right back to the Manor to be patched up. You’ve got a concussion and who knows what else.”

“Hey, it’s okay, really–” because missing a spleen anyone? He’s been through worse, worked through worse, and still brought out his inner bad ass. These two? Need to take a pill.

“Nu-uh. Ya try ta ged outta it, then we’re callin’ in the big guns. You feel me here?”

And oh no. No, no, no.

“Too late,” is growled somewhere in the vicinity of shadows over their shoulders.

When Red Robin spins on his heel and almost falls, Hood and Nightwing move fast to catch him by the arms so he doesn’t fall in front of the very stern-looking Robin suddenly steps from the shadows, both hands out to steady him by the hips.

Looming over him like Hood and N, Robin’s forehead is wrinkled in that special way when he’s scowling behind the domino. Red Robin manages to gasp before all six-foot-two of concerned vigilante is all over his everything.

Everyone is well-aware Robin doesn’t take any of his shit and is extremely efficient. What few, select people only know–

–he can also be extraordinary gentle.

This time, when Red Robin is swept up against another chest, another symbol, he doesn’t fight it, not when the youngest leans down and says something softly against his ear.

“Let us care for you, Beloved.”

He sighs a little and lists closer, throwing an around around those shoulders and idly fiddles with the cape.

“Better,” Hood uses a gloved thumb to run over his busted nose.

“I want a hot shower and bed,” Red admits wearily, “I can be a stubborn ass about it some other time.”

N chuckles sadly, leaning in to press a kiss to the top of his head. “That’s a good choice, Timmy. We’re going to find a second to eat between that, okay?”

He hums a little, trying to lay his face down on his arm somewhere that wouldn’t hurt. “I guess. Hot shower first, please.”

The bang of grapples echo against the sirens screaming in the night, and the Bats take off, flying over the rooftops to transportation not far off. Hood and N take driver and shotty so Robin can continue to cradle their bird on the ride back.

He might bitch good-naturedly about Hood driving the Red Bird like a literal bat out of hell, but it gets all kinds of shut down when Robin tenderly presses his mouth to the bruises on Red’s jaw and rubs soothing circles on the back of his neck.

Nightwing is the one that hops out and takes him from Robin to carry up to the Perch, talking low against his ear about the pick-up from the GCPD so he honestly feels better about where the night has taken him.

But it’s Jason Todd that runs a bath instead of the shower and strips down, runs gentle hands over the bruises and contusions, soaps him up to wash away the night. The two of them wrapped in towels while Jay sets his nose fast enough that it’s really not as bad as it could have been.

Dick towels his hair dry while he sits at the kitchen table, shivering, and Dami kneels by him to check out each injury with the first-aid tackle box in easy reach. Coffee is off the menu (a crime against humanity!) but the hot chocolate has been left to cool enough not to sting his sore mouth.

The eventual clothes are a combination from the communal drawer so he’s swimming in Dami’s shirt and Jay’s cut-off sweats, several ice packs bandaged over them on the worst of the swelling.

Grilled paninis and soup are utter heaven because A) Jay and Dami can cook, B) everything is easy to eat with a bruised face and cuts on the inside of his mouth, but also C) cute boyfriends keep giving him gentle kisses and touches whenever they come within a literal foot of him.

And they’re so good about it, taking care of him without being too smothering (at least no one has threatened to call his team – yet) through getting patched up and fed.

No, no, they wait for it.

Once he’s wrangled into bed, the three of them surrounding him in warmth and comforting touches, he’s pretty much trapped until morning.

Honestly, it’s probably the best part of the night.

[patton-kitty-squad]

Touch-Starved Deceit (Part 2!)

I'm so sorry it took me a little while, I've been feeling iffy for a bit- but here's the second part!

Warning: Remy thinks that Dee is going to jump off a bridge (don't worry, he's not!), cussing, implied drug use

Ships: Something- I don’t know. (Some sort of LAMP ship, or DLAMP)

Links Part One || Part Three || Masterlist

Dee doesn’t get much sleep that night and leaves the house before the others wake up.

He walks around the city for a while.

He doesn’t have much money, so he gets a hamburger from McDonald’s (But he’s not that hungry, so he just stores it away for later)

It takes all he has to not go back to the old hangouts he went to as a kid.

He knows exactly where to not go because if he goes down that street someone would know him and he’d relapse to his old self.

Dee eventually finds himself at a park, where we sat on the bridge's railing.

He's angry and throwing rocks into the river.

He thought he finally got away from his past, but apparently, it will always come back.

He's out of rocks and hanging partially off the railing when someone comes up and grabs his arm.

"Careful, babes, you need to think twice."

He looks back and there's this guy (guy? Person) who's standing there with a cup of green tea

And Dee just blinks before it clicks.

"Fuck you, I'm not gonna jump!"

He wants to tear his arm away because even just a hand on his arm makes him go into overdrive, but he doesn't want to fall.

"Okay, then hold onto me"

Dee brings, then refuses.

"Listen, either I pull you off of there or you climb over yourself."

Dee tries to prove himself, sliding around to climb over, but his foot slips a little.

Next thing he knows is that he's clinging to this stranger tighter than he's ever hugged someone as they're pulling him up and over the rail.

Dee just breaks down sobbing

He screwed up his chance to have a normal life because of bad choices when he was 15

For the next hour, he's sobbing because of everything that's been happening.

He doesn't tell him anything though

He feels overstimulated and exhausted at the same time.

The stranger tells him his name.

Remy

(It sounds familiar, but he can't place where he heard it)

Remy walks him home, now it's nearly five o'clock

Dee barely has enough energy to turn the doorknob after he unlocks it.

Suddenly, he has an arm full of Patton, who’s sobbing and apologizing.

He’s too tired to do anything else but hug back.

Roman comes up next and hugs him too.

Dee doesn’t even care anymore, he’s just so tired.

Logan pats his head, not joining in on the hugging.

It’s quiet for a while, but Dee notices Virgil standing in the doorway.

Remy leaves soon after that, leaving Dee nothing but a phone number.

“In case another incident happens.”

the next morning Dee comes out of his bedroom at noon.

it’s a Sunday, so only Patton's home.

He doesn’t think about how Patton is clingier after a night of crying and walks behind him to get to the fridge.

and Patton is suddenly leaning against him, and he’s trapped between him and the counter oh god-

then Patton is tilting his head back to lay it on his shoulder, smiling at Dee.

“I was worried you wouldn’t come out of your room before dinner.”

Dee wants to smile, but instead, he smirks and makes a snarky comment before sliding out from under him

Things didn’t really improve or get better over the next few weeks and they didn’t ask Dee about his profile.

Dee got a new job at another restaurant

(He likes being a waiter)

He decides to get his GED so he can go to an online college.

He’s spending all of his extra time studying, writing, or with his brother.

Before he knows it Thanksgiving is approaching.

He’s helping Patton cook dinner for everyone

“Are you going to your parent’s for Thanksgiving?”

And Dee has to stop and think because he hasn’t been to his parent’s house since he was seventeen.

He just says; “I don’t know,” and he means it.

The day before Thanksgiving, Roman and Logan leave to go to Roman’s house

(He faintly remembers Logan saying he and his parents cut ties after he came out)

Patton had left the day before them.

Now it’s just him and Virgil

When he asked Virgil why he was still there, he just shrugged and answered nonchalantly

“I aged out of the system, and never kept in touch with any of the foster parents I had.”

And now Dee was getting ready to leave for his brother’s, who invited him over to meet his boyfriend.

But he can’t scratch the itch of feeling bad for leaving Virgil alone on Thanksgiving

So he invites him to Thanksgiving with him.

Surprisingly, he accepts.

So, they start their journey to a house outside of city limits.

When they arrive there, Dee suddenly gets worried that Emile would judge Virgil on the spot, because the adult had a few piercings.

Dee pushes those down and opens the door.

“Emile, I’m Here!”

Then a familiar voice calls out.

“Oh, sup, babes!”

--

So, that’s what I have for now! Sorry, it took me so long, but I sat down and typed this all up right here!

If you have any questions, prompts, or want to be added to my taglist, just send me an ask and/or message!

Taglist: @liberalautisticqueernerd831 @avocados26 @aimlesslyfloatingintheuniverse

(I don’t know if you wanted to be tagged, but you guys said you like it so- here. Tell me if you don’t want to be tagged though) @reblogged-anything​ @wolfie7877​ @gloomy-goober​ @bumble-bitch-sanders​

[karolinexamelia]

&&. announcing her royal highness, ( karoline amelia von wüttemburg ), the ( 22 ) year old ( princess ) of ( germany ). she is often confused with ( abigail cowen ). some say that she is ( argumentative & opinionated ), but she is actually ( optimistic & passionate)

Ok! Here’s my new babe Karoline! I’m going to be posting this and mooching around to a lot of you to scrounge up plots for both her and Aleksander! 

Karoline is the youngest Von Wüttemburg sibling with her brother being the oldest

 She was technically the ‘spare’ if you will, so her parents payed her attention growing up, sure, but not as much attention as they payed her brother so she tended to have a lot of freedom and free reign growing up 

though, when her brother was free they were like two peas in a pod and Karoline certainly grew up looking at her older brother as a mentor and a role model. if you asked her why she thought that, she would tell you it’s because her brother could do no wrong, but as she grew older that thought changed, but her opinion of him still never changed 

She always had a decent relationship with her mother and father, I mean, they’re her parents after all, but it was never something where she could say that she went to her mother with all of her secrets or problems that she had when she finally went to school and her father was someone she tended to avoid because they just didn’t get along very often. Don’t get her wrong, she loves her father dearly, but she’s like a female version of him in which their opinions clash and it usually broke out in an argument most times, so she stayed away as much as she could or was possible 

as she grew up, her opinions regarding how her father ruled the country and the policies and laws he made and she actively spoke up about it

her father wasn’t impressed and after so many months and years of her voicing that opinion of hers, her father had enough of her and shipped her off to school so as to get her out of his face

this child can be the definition of the redhead temper. she’s super sweet and if she likes you she’ll love you, and she’s hella laid back, but man if you piss her off, be ready for an all out war with her because she’s really not afraid to back down and she doesn’t really like admitting she’s wrong

She finally just accepted the fact that she was shipped off and knuckled down and focused on her studies 

she got her GED and then went to university 

thats when everything went down and she got told to pack her stuff up again and got sent to Thailand 

Some plots I’d give my soul for:

A room-mate from university/school- someone she’s been with since day one of her going to school with. I’d like to think they’re really good friends and she’d definitely always have their back and all of that 

  Childhood friend- please give me this. I think because she was left to her own devices a lot during her childhood, this person would be someone who she’s been with since diapers who they used to do everything together. i can see lots of trouble that used to happen

Confident- As much as she can vent to her brother, sometimes it’s just not enough. This connection would really be another good friend for Karoline and someone she can easily come to and talk to and speak freely as often as she needs to 

Competitor/Rivals- Someone Karoline has had the upmost ambition to out do as much as she can 

Flirtationship- someone where the two of them flirt constantly and it’s a question as to whether they’re actually going to act on this and do something about it

First love- they met when she was still young and even though they aren’t together anymore, there’s always that spot in her heart that is solely for them

[dcrlingcvllie-blog]

danielle rose russell   /   cis female     🎄     christmas  spirit  welcomes  calliope ‘ callie ‘  meadows  to  the  magical  town  of  perston  .  the twenty  year  old waitress  has  lived  here  for  half  of  her life  and  is curious  about  the  holiday  calendar .  their  conscientious  &   persistent  character  is  why  she  is  on  santa’s  nice  list  ,  but  their  abrasive  &  hardheaded tendencies  could  land  them  on  the  naughty  if  they’re  not  careful  .     (   tess  ,  18  ,  she/her  ,  cst   ) 

hi, i’m tess ! i’m a little hyperactive and hopped up on espresso and weed, but those two things combined make creativity so what can i say. i’ve brought in two babes, and this here is callie ! she’s a kind of mended broken vase, still trying it’s hardest to sit tall. that’s pretty much her in a nutshell. this is a short summary, but i have plenty of hcs for her and i’d love to get some plots going !

callie meadows was born and raised in perston, virginia.  the small town life was everything to her parents, a retired lawyer and a librarian mother. they loved the quite life, the feel of home everywhere you looked. as a child, callie loved that life, too. she met with her friends everyday in the school yard, playing on the structures and running around the track. but that life grew boring, annoying in the least. she started getting frustrated with the cycle of her life, how the repetitive pattern seemed to have no end. she was ten the first time she got kicked out of class.

she was the youngest child of two, her older brother the golden child in the family ( wanted connection on the main). she envied him, but loved him to death.

at sixteen, after dropping dance lessons and meeting a boyfriend a bit too mature for her, she ran off to nashville, tennessee. her boyfriend fed her onto his pill addiction, sending her life into a downward spiral before she was even an adult.

the next four years callie spent jumping from couch to couch, finding dead end jobs that she kept for barely a month at a time. it was only when her boyfriend put his hands on her, that she started to see the hole she had dug for herself.

at nineteen, after getting kicked from her latest job and returning home to clenched fists and a pounding in her head, she ended it, called the cops right then and there, and removed herself entirely. she had gotten lucky — it wasn’t always so easy to leave that kind of situation.

her ex boyfriend was just sentenced a few months ago, and shorty after, callie moved back to perston. she found a decent job at a local diner, serving meals to sweet customers and working short shifts. it was a fresh start, and it’s exactly what she needed.

she’s now 6 months sober, but has replaced her pill addiction with a caffeine addiction, which seems easier to manage. she’s gotten her GED and is working on applying to some community colleges. finally, she’s getting her life together.  

personality

callie has changed a lot since the last time she was in perston. the once insufferable brat with a short fuse and a big mouth has become quieter, more careful with her words. each is accompanied by a smile now, rather than the former snarl.

she’s found a bit more pep in her step, offering service with a smile at work and waving to strangers on the street. she’s tried incredibly hard to get where she is today, and is proud of the progress she’s made. 

she sees moving back as a fresh start, ready to show others that she wants to know them, that the girl they met years ago is gone, kicked out, evicted.

wanted connections

old high school friends - she ran away in the middle of junior year, leaving a note for her family and hitting the road, but i’d love to see some of her old friends, from before she left ! maybe she’s kept in contact with them over the years ? maybe she cut off contact completely ? we could plot out dynamics and figure it all out !

new hookups - these would be random one night stands that callie found herself in, as a distraction to her other urges. it’s an easy relaxer, and it’s fun.

neighbors/roommates - i havent decided where callie lives just yet, but i’m up for plotting out roommates or neighbors in apartment buildings !

ride or die - this could be a new best friend or an old one, but this is someone callie has been able to put all her trust in, someone she’s told everything, even the dark and dirty, and vice versa ! just a good wholesome friendship !

possible love interests ? - there’d have to be chemistry, but i’m willing to plot anything

any other wanteds ! i’m going to try and make a page for these, but for now, these are my wanted connections !

[santoteez]

In The Bronx- Hongjoong (1)

Part: 1 of (?)

Parts 2 and 3 now available!

Genre: Drugdealer!Hongjoong, Drugdealer! SeonghwaAU, Eventual Angst, Eventual Smut, Eventual Fluff

Word Count: 1.6k

Requested: no

Warnings: MC is a black female, mentions of drugs, mentions of child neglect & abandonment, swearing, mentions of sex, Hongjoong’s brother is inspired by Mingi

NOTE: This fic does NOT, in any way, shape, or form, portray the way I view any member of Ateez nor does it depict their true personalities or actions. This AU is just that. An AU.

Hongjoong sat at the kitchen table of his one-bedroom apartment, bagging the white powder-like substance in tiny Ziploc bags, before moving onto the pungent-smelling plant. He knew it was wrong, but he did it for his family. Since he was little, it had always just been him and his brother.

His mother left them at the steps of a crackhouse when Hongjoong was just five. Minjoon, his younger brother, was just a month old. He remembered nothing of their mother, and for that Hongjoong was grateful. She set the baby carrier down next to Hongjoong’s jittery legs before running into a car with an unknown man who had a prominent scar on his face. A policeman saw the two boys crying from the street, which prompted a raid, although Hongjoong and Minjoon’s mother was never found, not even with the clue of the man’s scar which Hongjoong provided.

They spent years in and out of foster homes. It was a desperate struggle to keep the boys together. No one wanted to take in two boys at once. Nine times out of ten, the family wanted Minjoon alone. Hongjoong took no offense to that, if he were them, he’d only want Minjoon too. Minjoon was a parent’s dream. He was smart, talented, and studious. Most importantly, he wasn’t a rebellious teen with trust issues instilled in him from seeing his mother run away from the stoop where she told him to stay put. Hongjoong spent his teen years being ran out of foster homes, for reasons he thought were absolute bullshit. After all, how did he know his foster mom would freak out catching him in bed with a senior during his freshman year?

Eventually, Hongjoong turned 18, and gained legal guardianship of Minjoon, much to his foster parents’ dismay. They had planned to adopt Minjoon but seeing as though Hongjoong was his only known blood relative and had the means to take care of him as well as his own place, it was a no brainer for the judge that he be appointed as Minjoon’s caretaker.

What the judge didn’t know, however, was how Hongjoong came to make all that money. Sure, he had paystubs from a clothing store, but did he have to explain that he was fired a week before the court hearing after word got to the manager that he was a drug dealer in his spare time? No. And for as long as Hongjoong could, Minjoon didn’t have to know either.

That’s why every day from the time he dropped Minjoon off at school until it was time to go pick him up again, Hongjoong sat at their kitchen table and bagged his product, preparing it for pickup. As much as he’s wanted to quit, he was recently moved up to kingpin after his boss retired and left the business to him. Plus, it paid the bills and he just needed a little bit more to send Minjoon to college.

Hongjoong glanced at the clock. It was almost time for him to go. “Where the fuck is Seonghwa? He has to take all this shit from here.” He sighed. As if on cue, the door unlocked, Seonghwa flying in.

“I’m late. I know. I got caught up.”

Hongjoong looked up from the table. “Caught up in terms of women, or in terms of business?”

“Business. But I handled it.”

Hongjoong stood up, making sure his keys were in his pocket. “You always do. I gotta bounce, make sure all this shit is gone before Minjoon is here.”

“As you said, I always do. Oh yeah, HJ,” Seonghwa wasted no time tossing the product into his Northface backpack as Hongjoong put on a pair of sneakers and head out the door. “Santana is waiting for you outside her building.”

Seonghwa was Hongjoong’s right hand. The two started pushing weight around the same time, forming an unbreakable bond. When the business was left to Hongjoong, his first rule of order was to appoint Seonghwa as second in command. After all, he was the only one he could trust with a key to his apartment and the job of making sure word of the job never makes it to Minjoon.

Hongjoong hopped into his all-black, Nissan Altima, turning it on and pulling out of the parking space. The guys back at the warehouse clowned him all the time for choosing to drive such a mundane car, but he called it being smart. A Lamborghini or Aston Martin in the heart of The Bronx was a huge red flag. Who would think to suspect the guy with a Nissan?

Aside from his brother, the one person Hongjoong was willing to do anything for was Santana. Santana was a 5’4 dark skin woman that lived nearby. Hongjoong tried for months before he was able to capture her attention. He always saw her on her way home from work when he did his nightly drops. He always looked forward to seeing her hips sway and her curly hair either down her back or up in a bun. She never responded when he said “Goodnight” or “How you doing” but that didn’t stop him from saying it every time. It wasn’t until Hongjoong asked about the book he saw her carrying one of the few times he saw her during the day.

“You’re reading Aurora. That’s a great book.”

“You read?” She asked skeptically.

“Of course. It’s about a ship traveling to Tau Ceti to form a human colony, right? You owe me a date if I am.”

And the rest is history.

Today was Santana’s day off, so Hongjoong pulled up to her building where she was already standing. She was dressed in Nike from head to toe with Bred 1s on her feet. Her face was beat to the gods, with red eyeshadow to match her sneakers and lip gloss coating her full lips.

She hopped into the passenger side and Hongjoong leaned in for a kiss.

“Ms. Davis, as beautiful as ever.” He said when she pulled away.

“On our way to get Minjoon?” She asked, putting on her seatbelt.

“The one and only,” Hongjoong said.

“Nice. I love that kid.”

Hongjoong side-eyed her playfully. “Calm that down.” He said, laughing when she rolled her eyes at him. “Nah I get it. He’s pretty amazing.”

“Amazing? HJ, he’s UNDEFEATED. All-star quarterback, captain of the debate team, student body president? Isn’t he on his way to win prom king?”

Hongjoong nodded proudly. “He’s gonna take over the world someday.”

Santana grabbed his free hand. “Only because he has the best of the best in his corner, every step of the way.”

Hongjoong lifted her hand to his lips, kissing them softly. They drove the rest of the way in silence, occasionally singing along to the radio. They pulled up to Minjoon’s high school just in time to see him walking out, a crowd following him through the doors, girls calling out to him and swooning when he reciprocated. He broke into a slow jog when he saw Hongjoong’s car, Santana hopping out of the passenger seat to greet him and move to the back. Hongjoong told her numerous times that she didn’t have to get out, but she insisted. She loved seeing them interact with one another. It was one of the few times Hongjoong looked completely carefree; the way he should look all the time.

“Santana! Long time no see!” Minjoon shouted, beaming at the short girl.

“Minjoon, the man of the hour. I see all those girls eyeing you.” She winked.

“Don’t give me so much credit. I learn everything I know from the man in the driver’s seat.” Minjoon laughed, hopping in the car.

“Yeah, yeah, yeah. Just don’t bring no girl with a belly to the house. I’ll crack your shit.” Hongjoong dapped him up.

“Same goes for you. If Santana so much as gains an ounce, I’m coming for your head.”

Hongjoong rolled his eyes. “That’s none of your business, I’m grown.”

“It becomes my business when I can’t sleep because all I hear is your name being screamed from the living room.”

“I bought you Beats! USE THEM!”

“Seriously? That’s your solution?”

“They’re noise-canceling. What’s that whisper shit called? ABCD?” Hongjoong asked.

“ASMR, babe,” Santana said in between laughs.

“There you go. Fall asleep to that shit.”

They went on like this until reaching the house. There, Seonghwa was standing outside with a couple of guys from the crew. Minjoon hopped out running to him.

“Seonghwa! How you been, playa?”

“Shit. Not as good as you, Youngblood. Look like you living on top of the world nowadays.” Seonghwa smiled at the young boy.

Hongjoong watched the interaction from the car, staring intently.

“Are you ever gonna tell him?” Santana asked.

Hongjoong knew what she was referring to. As far as Minjoon knew, Hongjoong was an overnight stock associate for Costco and was saving up to go to college, after having gotten his GED a couple years back. Faking the paystubs and documentation for Minjoon’s school was a piece of cake, with his boy San, who managed the local storefront, providing him with anything he needed. There was even video evidence of him working, should he ever need it.

“C’ mon Santana, don’t start that shit.” He refused to meet her gaze.

“You can’t keep him in the dark forever. Eventually, he’ll find out. He’ll be mad you lied to him.” She pointed out. If there’s anything Minjoon valued, it was honesty. Knowing his only family lied to him would crush the boy like no other.

“I know that. I just-” Hongjoong paused, looking for the right words. He glanced back out the window to see Minjoon giving Seonghwa a very detailed re-enactment of last week’s football game.  “Not yet. Let him be a kid for a little longer. I never got that.”

[glenncoco4]

Life After

A/N: Because Deeks would totally do something like this.

She steps out of the truck, waiting for her shaggy haired husband to show her what he’s been so excited about. “Okay, why am I standing in front of a random building.”

“Because this isn’t just some random building.”

He didn’t. “Uh, babe. I don’t think we need to open a second location right now, I mean we just started making a profit from the bar.” 

Shaking his head at her thoughts and where they went to first. “No, it’s not for that.” He hands her a white piece of paper.

Unfolding the paper, she becomes confused. Not really sure what she’s looking at. “Don’s House?” Looking up at her partner, she tries to piece things together, but comes up short. “Whaa-“

He takes both her hands in his, rubbing his thumbs back and forth over her smooth skin. “I know you’re worried about what you’re gonna do when we finally decide to leave and I want you to be happy about the next chapter of our lives.” Her brow furrowed, she stays silent, wanting to hear what he has to say. “You’ve talked about wanting to help people and I think I’ve come up with something.” Taking a deep breath, he knows it’s risky but he’s also confident that he knows his wife. “I’ve talked with some business owners who are willing to come once a week to interview homeless people for jobs. They said that seeing their initiative really helps and they want to help just as much as we do. Hetty said that we could use one of her apartment complexes, which is coincidentally right across the street, for temporary housing. You know, for those who just need a little help until they can get back on their feet.”

She’s dreaming. She’s gonna wake up any moment now and this is all gonna be a dream. 

He lets go of one of her hands and keeps hold of the other, leading them into what will soon be operations. “And if you’ll follow me, my beautiful ladybird, I’ll show you the rest.”

Once they step inside, she’s taken aback. Familiar voices filling her ears as she looks around at the commotion going on around them. 

He gets her attention once again when he points towards the small alcove just to the left of the front desk. “Over there, where Sam and G bacon are assembling the tables is were they can get GED classes.” Walking past the boys, he leads her towards the back of the ‘house’. “That handsome devil and the moms are over by where the pantry will be.” Making their way over, Kensi is snapped out of her overwhelmed state when two little cerulean blue orbs meet hers and his little mouth spreads into a grin. 

She’s not sure if she’ll ever truly fathom that she’s a mom, but if anyone can change her mind, it’s that little boy in her mother-in-law’s arms. 

She’s loves the excited look he gets on his little face every time he see’s her. “Mama.” He reaches out making her smile grow and her heart explode. Her son may look like his father, but he’s definitely a mama’s boy. 

Taking her boy in her arms, she focuses back on her other boy. My boys. My boys. 

The taller version of the Deeks boys walks up to them, running his fingers through their son’s hair, and with a ‘serious’ look on his face gives his boy a stern talking to. “Okay, son, I’m gonna need you to let me have your mama’s attention for just a few more minutes.” 

Making their way down the hall, they come to a room where Mandy, Talia and Mandy’s husband Jeff are assembling toys for the daycare center. “Your mom and Mandy agreed to look over the daycare center.” He looks over at her and what he sees is that which always makes his heart leap. His son is laying his head on his mama’s shoulder, playing with her loose strands of hair. “I-I thought it would be nice for those who can’t really afford child care to have it so they could go to work and not have to worry about their kids being safe.” 

She turns to look at him, amazement shinning in her eyes. “That’s a really great idea, baby.”

Continuing their tour, he takes one of her hands and leads her upstairs to the loft area. “And if you’ll come with me, my beautiful bride.” 

They reach the top, and what she sees is what her reaction has been for most of the day, and gasps. “This, baby. This is your office.” 

It’s an open plan, floor to ceiling windows that give her a full view of everything going on around her. In the corner is a playpen and play mat for Noah, and at the front (back) of the room is a desk. Not as cluttered as the one at OSP, but give it time and it’ll get there. 

He walks over to her desk. Pointing out the two picture frames sitting on the glass surface. “Here we have pictures of your boys.” 

She smiles seeing one frame that holds a picture of her husband and son, sitting on the beach and watching the waves roll in. The other frame holding a picture of the man that is a big reason why she has all of this. 

Looking around, she takes it all in. He did this and he did it for her. This man that she shares her life with, that she loves with everything she has. He has always made her feel all that she’s worth. He’s never pushed her into being something that she’s not. Loving her day in and day out for who she is and loving every part of her. She’s not sure why she’s so surprised at his thoughtfulness. He did this for her so that she could do both things that she wants to do, but could never really figure out what that was. Setting Noah in the playpen, she then walks up to her love, wrapping her arms around his waist, unable to stop the tears from falling from her mismatched chocolate orbs. “You-you did this for me?”

“Of course I did this for you, Kens. I want you to be happy. I want you to have everything you’ve ever wanted. To be able to be safe for our kids,” He fakes a cough, letting his smile shine through.”and have a job that you love. And I have a very good feeling that this is it.” 

She shakes her head in wonderment. “How do you do that?”

“How do I do what?” 

“Know exactly what I need before I do.”

He leans down, capturing her lips with his. “It’s a gift.” Placing his forehead on hers, he smiles when he remembers something. “Also, the meerkats installed a high tech security system, and there’s a camera pointed directly at the area where our fearless leader and his trusty sidekick are trying to put together tables with Swedish instructions.”

Biting her lip, she all but fails to hold in her laughter. “I really love you. You know that?”

“Yeah, I know.” He places a kiss to her temple, whispering in her hair. “I love you, too, Sugarbear.” 

All of the sudden they can hear loud bickering coming from down below. 

“Okay, we really need to watch this.” She drags him over towards the computer and just as the feed comes into their view, Sam rolls up the instructions and hit Callen over the head with it. 

Yeah. This is gonna be great.

[scandalsavagefanfic]

Hey scandal, I'm writing a story and I'm using the ages from pre crisis batman comics. Can you help me with this? I know dick and jay are about 6 or 7 years apart but what about Tim and Barbara and Cass. And bruce.

Hey babe!  That’s great!

I’m going to assume you mean pre-Flashpoint/post-Crisis because Tim and Cass never existed pre-Crisis.

For anyone who has maybe heard/seen those terms and may not be 100% sure what they mean (DC has seven hundred Crises, scandal, WHICH CRISIS?!):

The one referred to by ‘post-Crisis’ is the Crisis on Infinite Earths event from the mid-80′s. It was basically DC making a real attempt having a shared universe with a coherent continuity. Everything before that is mostly non-canon. Things like blonde-Jason with the essentially the same backstory as Dick are gone but every once and a while a writer will reference something from before the cut off and pull it into continuity. Notably, Tom King recently cited the original first appearance of Catwoman from pre-Crisis AND the Year One origin from the late 80′s (which was always in a weird semi-canon status) further muddying the continuity waters.

So post-Crisis describes the period after that from like 1986 all the way up to Flashpoint in 2011.The terms ‘post-Crisis’ and ‘pre-Flashpoint’ are interchangeable. They both refer to the same 25 year period. 

Flashpoint is probably more familiar to everyone because it’s more recent and it’s easier to work one’s way back to there (way few intermediary Crises to worry about). Barry Allen goes back in time to save his mom and fucks everything up. Bruce died, Thomas Wayne became sexy, old man Batman not worried about killing people, Martha becomes the Joker. It’s good times. I love Flashpoint. Don’t care one bit about the main story but the timeline is so much fun. Anyway, when Barry returns to the present that’s the start of New 52. 

Where I frankly think things are mostly ok. Until you get to the Batfamily timeline/ages. Everyone deaged. Four robins in five years but still carrying the emotional baggage of everything that happened before. Because post-Crisis still mostly happened for the Batfam but not really because no Steph, no Cass. Everyone’s deaged but sometimes Jason is old enough to drink and sometimes he isn’t. Babs, who is supposed to be older than Dick, starts college.

It’s a mess. 

Which is why I ALWAYS ignore post-Flashpoint Batfam age/timeline. And it seems like DC has kind of unofficially given in to that but we’ll see. 

Anywho. Back to your actual question. Here’s a post that is close enough to how I’ve worked it out that any differences are small and negligible by @batmanisagatewaydrug.  For example, OP has Jason dying at 15 which seems to be fandom consensus. But I am like 95% certain I read a line in a comic back in the day that said 16 so that’s what I usually go with unless it suits me better to drop it down. Generally, I like giving him that time extra time to bond with Bruce because the stronger that bond is when he dies the more heartbreaking it is. And I usually have Tim becoming Robin a few months after turning 14. Regardless, our end results are pretty much the same.

Current ages based on post-Crisis/pre-Flashpoint:

Damian: 13

Duke: 16

Cass & Harper: 19

Tim & Steph: 20

Jason: 23

Dick: 29

Babs: 32

Bruce: 42

OP has Bruce starting Batmaning at 23 and taking in 11 year old Dick at 24. This is pretty standard for my fics. But I also don’t have a problem saying child prodigy Bruce Wayne got his GED at 15/16 and took off, returning as Batman at like 20, taking in 8 year old Dick at 21. Present ages stay the same but I can never remember how old Dick was originally (and Young Justice says 9 so by the time he gets trained up a bit that works out).

Ultimately, babe, there’s a lot of flexibility because comics rarely give exact ages. It’s explicitly stated that Dick leaves Bruce at 17 (because Bruce hilariously makes a big deal about having a ‘child’ partner when Dick gets shot, and fires him only to almost immediately pick up an actual child with zero training). And it’s explicitly stated somewhere that Damian was 10 when he showed up and Teen Titans Rebirth starts with his 13th birthday. But other than that, there’s a lot of wiggle room.

Sorry, you asked a simple question (for which I had a link to the answer) and I went overboard. I never write something brief and concise when I can be needlessly in-depth and wordy ;)

Good luck on your fic hon!