#wish I knew how to get out of this funk

[raksh-writes]

Gosh, I hate the way I don’t know what to do with myself on sundays, just stuck in that "waiting for monday and going back to work" state. It’s probably some underlaying anxiety stuff but there's like No way to go around it, whatever I try to get my hands on, I need to Force myself into it and my brain's all "!!!!!!!!" during anyway, so I end up sitting in idle mode doing absolutely nothing, ughhh

[bee-writes-wbb]

Paige and maybe like drunk confessions and NSFW

Omg you’re my first request! I didn’t mean for it to take this long, but I kept starting over and going different directions!

We’ll See

Summary: Paige spills her beans after one too many.

Warnings: NSFW (🔞)

Topics/Tags/Themes/Tropes: Drunk Confessions (🍷), Friends to Lovers (💕)

You could barely hear Ice next to you over the thumping music. You, Paige, and the rest of the team had gone for drinks after practice, trying to enjoy your last few days before classes started. Paige had been quieter than usual both at practice and at the bar, initially nursing just one “dirty Shirley.” It wasn’t until Aubrey ordered a round of shots and then another that Paige seemed to snap out of her funk. She was now draped over you, yelling the lyrics to a rap song in your ear as the bass boomed around you.

“You’re my best friend, you know that?” She hung off of you lazily from behind, her blonde hair tickling the side of your face. You swayed with her as she she rocked back and forth, laughing at how unsteady she had become. When she was quiet for a moment, you honestly thought she’d fallen asleep until you felt her lips on your shoulder.

“I wish you were my girlfriend though. Do you ever wish that?” She whispered against you. You froze at her words, suddenly feeling very sober despite the two tiny empty glasses in front of you. Before you could say anything, Paige disappeared, running off with someone’s phone and personally pestering each table of people in the bar.

You knew how she got when she was drunk-clingy, friendly, talkative- but even after all of the years you’d known her, she’d never said something like that. You spent the rest of the night trying not to overthink what she’d said until it was time to go.

KK and Ice rounded up the team, trying desperately to make sure everyone got back to their rooms without incident. When you finally got back, Paige flopped onto the couch the second she got inside, resting across your lap as soon as you sat down.

As her soft snores grew louder, you stroked her hair and replayed what she’d said over and over again. It would’ve been unfair to take her words at face value when you knew she was drunk, but you couldn’t stop the pieces from clicking in your mind.

You two had been best friends since your first summer session at UConn, never going a day without speaking to one another since then. There were times where you thought you two could’ve been more, but you always pushed those thoughts away, knowing how messy things could get and not even knowing if she liked you back. But that never stopped your heart from pounding in your chest when she held your waist, or rested her hand on your thigh when you were sitting next to one another. And it take away how you felt when Paige cooked you breakfast on your birthday and told you that it didn’t bother her to wake up at 5 AM to cook for you because she just wanted to make you happy. You could’ve sworn that her hugs now lasted a little longer and were a little tighter than they used to be, but you shook it off because that’s all it was. But you’d noticed other things, too, that made you pause like Paige’s new habit of falling asleep in your bed, or the way she always stared at you when you were talking. Still, you could never be too sure if the things you were noticing were true or if you just desperately wanted them to be.

KK calling out to you snapped you out of your thoughts. “Say hi to the live.”

“Hi live,” you called, shifting to ensure that Paige was just out of view.

KK and Ice bickered back and forth, having playful arguments that they asked fans to mediate as you sat in the background. They finally settled their fight and after much prompting from the audience, decided to go around the room, professing their love to each of their teammates, proving that there was no beef.

“I love you!” Ice yelled to you across the room.

“I love you too, Ice. I also love you,KK.” You laughed.

“I love you,” muttered a voice from underneath you, earning a laugh from the whole room.

“I love you too, Paige.” You giggled despite feeling like you might throw up.

Suddenly Paige sat up from your lap and stared at you. “No, I love you. Like I really really love you.” She said. It felt like world stopped as you looked at her. You knew she still had to be drunk, but eyes had never looked clearer. She took your silence as a chance to keep going.

“Like I love you in a different way than I love them,” she rambled. “I love you like-“

You cut her off before she could continue, getting up and dragging her to her feet. You pulled her into her room shutting the door quickly behind you as you heard Ice and KK try to pretend that it all meant nothing.

“Paige, what are you doing?”

“You don’t love me back?” Her blue eyes welled up with tears as she sat on her bed, staring at you, waiting for an answer.

“You’re drunk right now.” You said, trying not to let your own tears spill over.

“I’m not that drunk.” She protested, wiping the tears that were now streaming down her cheeks. Despite being the person on the team that always had a solution, you didn’t know what to do. You so desperately wanted to tell her that you did love her back, in all of the ways that she loved you. But neither of you were in any state to have that discussion at the moment. Aside from you both being friends for so long, you both were still teammates and at this time next year, both of you would be traveling the country with different WNBA teams, and who knows how either of you would feel.

“We’ll talk about this tomorrow. I promise” you said, walking over to pull the covers back for her to climb in. She nodded defeatedly as she laid down and tucked the covers around her, falling asleep before you even made it fully out of the door. You hurried past Ice and KK and up the stairs to your own room before falling asleep yourself.

You finally woke up when your third alarm went off the next morning, making the pounding in your head worse. You glanced at your phone, seeing that you only had a few minutes before you had to be out of the door, and got dressed as quickly as you could, ignoring the sinking feeling in your stomach, realizing you would have to see Paige.

You ran out of the door, making it just in time to avoid getting yelled at. Paige stood a few spots down from you and didn’t even bother to glance at you as you walked up. The tension between you two was palpable for the entire practice, earning you a few side eyes from your teammates and a pointed, but not specific lecture about professionalism and not letting off-court business affect on-court business after Paige’s 10th missed shot in a row and your constant fumbling.

You took your time in the shower, letting everyone clear out, to avoid having to answer any questions about last night. When you thought everyone had left, you got out and got dressed. Just as you grabbed your bag to leave, you felt a tug on the strap pulling you back.

“Sit.” Paige demanded while still avoiding eye contact with you.

As much as you wanted to protest, you took a seat on the bench behind you, trying desperately to ignore the way your heart fluttered as Paige slid next to you. You both sat for a moment, looking at nothing in particular, listening to the water drip from the shower head in the other room. After what felt like an eternity, Paige finally spoke.

“I don’t know where to start,” she admitted, her usually dazzling eyes looking dull underneath her sadness. “I wish I could take it all back, but I can’t. And it makes it worse that we had an audience. And I put you on the spot like that. Even though you don’t feel the same, I just hope that you’ll still be my friend.”

“Why do you think I don’t feel the same?” Her head whipped towards you the second the statement left your mouth.

“What? When I asked if you loved me back last night, you just left.”

“I didn’t ‘just leave.’ Neither of us were in the right space to talk about that last night, Paige. I do feel the same way about you and I have for a long time-“

She didn’t bother to let you finish, ducking her head slightly and bringing her lips to yours. Her hand found the back of your head, locking you in place as your mouths moved back and forth. After a moment she dropped her head again, leaving a trail of kisses across your jawline and down your neck.

Paige pulled you into her lap, kissing back and forth between your shoulder and the base of your neck. Each kiss sent a jolt of electricity down your spine as her fingertips toyed with the hem of your shirt. You craned your neck to bring your lips back to hers, forgetting all about the slight strain you felt when her tongue slid across yours. Her fingers snaked their way up your shirt and played with the band of your bra before fully diving underneath. At first, both of her hands massaged your breasts, paying special attention to your nipples as she rolled each one between her fingers, causing a soft whimper to escape your lips. Then she moved to your thighs, digging her fingertips into your soft skin. You could feel her smirk against you as you desperately guided her hands from your thighs to the waistband of your shorts.

You could barely feel her fingers at first as they ghosted over your clothed center, moving back and forth, teasing you. You let out a whimper, giving her confirmation to go further and she finally slid her fingers over your bare center.

You moaned into her mouth as she applied gentle pressure to your clit in circular motions. Your hips followed the rhythm of her two fingers intensifying the feeling building in your stomach. She dragged her fingers from your clit to your folds, covering them with juices before she entered you.

Your head fell back against hers as she finally entered you with one finger, adding another as you adjusted. You continued to move your hips against her as she curled her fingers in and out of you. She started slowly and increased her pace as your moans grew more and more frequent. She loved the way her name spilled off of your tongue and the way your eyes squeezed shut as you tried to hold yourself together.

“Oh my god, Paige” you whined, not caring who might hear. Her other hand trailed back under your shirt giving your nipples a squeeze one last time. The sensation of her hands roaming your body combined with her plunging in and out of you sent you over the edge. You pushed back into her as your body clenched around her, finally reaching your peak. She slowed her motions inside of you, letting you come down and catch your breath before she pulled out of you. Paige brought her fingers to her lips and sucked your juices off of them, savoring the taste of you.

“You taste so good,” she groaned. “See?” She pulled your head to hers, placing a deep kiss on your lips, giving you a taste of yourself.

You both sat for a moment, unmoving, while processing what you’d just done. Neither of you were upset about it, but you knew that a lot of big conversations would need to happen to make sense of it all.

“Paige-“ you started only to be interrupted by the door opening on the other side of the room. You both quickly scrambled from the precarious position you were in, trying not to make it obvious what you had just done.

KK walked in quickly, startled by the both of you. “Oh, hey. I grabbed the wrong shoes earlier.” She said, walking to her locker. “Did y’all talk?”

“Yeah, we talked.” Paige responded, a smirk tugging at the corners of her mouth.

“So… what’s gonna happen now?” KK asked, looking between the two of you.

“We’ll see.” You said, finally throwing your bag across your shoulders.

[whatsk-poppinhomies]

Pairing : Boyfriend!Hwang Hyunjin x F!Reader TW : angst ; Hyunjin is just sad (which is honestly relatable) ; reader thinks they're pregnant ; reader might be pregnant ; symptoms of pregnancy ; fluff ending ; Word Count : 2.0k Request : Annony : Can I request and angsty fic Where Hyunjin has just been going through a really rough time and y/n tries her best to be there for him and keeps waiting for the right time to tell him she thinks she’s pregnant. He just keeps crying and he doesn’t know why he’s so sad, but slowly he gets out of it a bit. One morning he wakes up because y/n is having morning sickness and showing other symptoms so she has no choice but to finally open up and tell him everything. They take a test and well…I’ll let you take creative control after this. I’m really excited I’ve thought this request through a lot and I hope you decide to write it

“Hey, you okay?” Your coworker asked as she walked into the breakroom. Your head had been resting against the table, your eyes squeezed tightly shut as you tried to count your breaths. “Feeling dizzy again?” She asked when you didn’t answer her first question, and you gave her weak thumbs up in response. “Maybe you are… you know… the p word.” She whispered, and it’s not like it was a bad word to say, it’s just that you didn’t want anyone else that you worked with to know. 

“I’m too nervous to test…” You mumbled, and she knew exactly why. She was your only confidant at this point, especially since Hyunjin was going through his own personal problems. You didn’t want to stack anything else on top of whatever else was bothering him. All you did know was that, no matter how much you tried to help him or console him, he’d be right back to crying soon after. “Plus, it would be too soon… I don’t want to test too early or anything…” 

To be honest, home life wasn’t really the best right now. It’s not that there were any arguments, there was no fighting, but it was obvious that Hyunjin was stressed about something, and you were mentally stressed about potentially being pregnant, so the last thing you needed was triple the stress for both of you if a test came out positive. Even just thinking about it felt like too much right now.  

“Well you can’t wait forever. I mean… With his job, he gets stressed very easily. What are you gonna do? You can’t just hide potentially important things from him every time he gets upset or stressed out.” You rolled your eyes at your coworkers' sudden nagging, and while you knew that it came from a place of concern and care, you didn’t need that right now. You didn’t need to be parented, you needed someone to just be there for you. 

“He doesn’t get stressed easily, and you make it sound like he’s like this all the time. I’m not hiding things from him either, I’m giving him time to get in the right place mentally before dropping something like this on him.” You quickly defended your boyfriend, silently wishing that you hadn’t told your coworker anything at all. “He’s a good boyfriend, and just because he gets stressed and upset sometimes doesn’t change that.”

“I’m not saying that he’s not a good boyfriend for you… I just feel like you cater to him and his feelings a lot because of his job and your feelings get pushed to the backburner.” She tried to explain, but she couldn’t be further from the truth. 

“I’m not having this conversation right now. I appreciate you caring and trying to look out for me, but my relationship is fine. He’s a great guy… Okay? I have to get back to work now, enjoy your break.” 

///

Hyunjins moment seemed to last longer and longer. He’d lock himself in his room the moment he walked through the front door and you’d hear him cry for hours until things went silent, and the only reason things got quiet is because he’d cry himself to sleep. There was nothing you could do to help him because he wouldn’t even talk to you about it, and a part of you wondered if he’d ever get out of the funk he was in. 

With the time that passed, the symptoms only grew stronger. Your headaches were getting worse, the nausea was almost unbearable, even your boobs hurt. You wanted to excuse it as reading into the symptoms too much, you thought that your mind was playing tricks on you. You wanted to find any reason you could to hold off on testing until Hyunjin got better because you didn’t want to be alone when you found out, no matter what the result was. 

When Hyunjin was around, you tried to hide the symptoms from him. If you started feeling sick, you’d quickly go off to the bathroom and turn on the sink, hoping that you wouldn’t actually start throwing up. The tiredness that you felt was written off as working too many hours and being on your feet too long. Luckily he was none the wiser to the soreness in your breasts because you hadn’t been with him in any physical way since he had been in his funk. You missed him, and you wanted to blame the potentially surging hormones for the tears that would be shed when you’d lay in the same bed beside him at night without a single kiss or those three words that would make you feel like he did still love you. 

The longer it lasted, the more you would think about what your coworker had said. No matter how much you tried to get those words out of your head, they would constantly pop up. When you would hear him crying in the room and you’d try to help him, but it was like he was shutting you out. Not only did it feel like he was pushing you away, but it felt like you were by yourself. He wasn’t the only one going through something right now, and you wanted so badly to tell him, but for some reason you were trying so hard to protect him that you weren’t even worried about yourself. 

Even still, you didn’t want to give up on him. You loved him, and you truly believed that he just needed time, that he’d get better sooner or later, and no matter what, you’d stick by him, even if it meant pushing your own stresses, your own worries to the side until he got better. 

///

He was starting to feel better, he really was. It had been a week since the last time he had cried, and while he still doesn’t fully understand himself why things had gotten so bad or why he was so upset, he was thankful that he had you by his side the entire time, even if it didn’t seem that way. He wanted to take you out today, to show you that he appreciated you and everything that you do for him. He wanted to show you that he truly does love you, and that he’s grateful that you didn’t give up on him through this entire thing. 

The bed was already empty, which wasn’t rare as of lately considering he always seemed to sleep in, but one look at the clock on the bedside table made him fully aware that it was too early for even you to be awake. He could have sworn you came to bed last night, that he had felt the warmth of your body beside him underneath the covers. Had you gone to the couch at some point in the middle of the night? Were you finally pulling away? 

Just as he was pushing the comforter off of his body, he heard what sounded like gagging and choking and he never moved so fast in his life. Tripping over his own feet, he rushed into the bathroom to find you doubled over the toilet, sweat beading up on your forehead and spit dribbling down from the corner of your mouth. It’s like you didn’t even realize he was there, or maybe you just didn’t want to acknowledge him as you tried your best to seemingly catch your breath. 

“Baby… What’s wrong?” He whispered, kneeling down beside you to try to get you to look at him, but you only shook your head, pushing yourself up to your feet with the help of the side of the bathtub, leaving him on the floor and even more worried than before. “Are you mad at me? I’m sorry… Do you want me to leave you alone?” 

“No…” You said, your voice slightly raspy, and he could only assume that it was because of getting sick, but you sounded so tired too. He didn’t know how sick you were, he didn’t know what was going on or how long you had been feeling like this, but he wanted to be there for you now, no matter what was wrong. “I think… I might be pregnant…” Your head lowered, as if you were ashamed to be telling him that, although he wasn’t sure why. 

Of course, he wasn’t ready to be told something like that, he was sure that no man was ever truly ready to hear that, but that didn’t mean that he wasn’t ready to step up and be the man that you and his potential child would need. “Okay… Well, I can run to the store and pick up some tests and we can find out if you are…” 

“I… Already have the tests. They’re in my purse…” You admitted and he nodded along slowly, trying not to get too upset that you had potentially been going through this for longer than he thought. “I just wanted to make sure you were okay first. I didn’t want to do this alone…” Alone… He had left you all alone to deal with these worries and these thoughts and these fears. “You… You are okay… Right?” 

His head nodded swiftly, his eyes that were brimming with tears of guilt glistened in the fluorescent lighting of the bathroom. “I am… I’m okay. You’re not alone, I’m here and no matter what happens… I’m going to stay here with you. I love you…” He finally got up off the floor, scrambling to his feet just to stand in front of you, his eyes finally meeting yours for what felt like the first time. “You have nothing to worry about… I’ll always be here… I promise.” 

///

“Out of the way! Out of the way! Move it! Excuse us! Make room! Pregnant girlfriend coming through!” Hyunjin shouted as he walked with you down the halls of the JYPE building. He was so loud, you were sure that even the people the next floor up could hear him coming, he was like a damn fire truck with its sirens on. You rolled your eyes at the rambunctiousness of it all. “What? I just don’t want anyone to bump into you or anything. I’m trying to keep you and baby Jinnie safe.” 

Your eyebrows arched at the little nickname that he had given the baby, you hadn’t heard him say it before. You had had an ultrasound the day before, and the doctor had asked if you wanted to know the gender of the baby, but you and Hyunjin had both agreed to keeping it a secret until the birth. “Baby Jinnie, huh? Where’d you come up with that name?” You quizzed, wondering if maybe his curiosity had gotten the better of him and he had just asked the doctor what the baby would be on his way out of the exam room. 

“Isn’t that what they do for sons in America? People name the baby boys after their father? He can be little Jinnie Jr. right?” Hyunjin asked, his eyes twinkling as he looked down at you. His arms were wrapped protectively around you as you rode the elevator up to the right floor, and as cute and innocent as he looked right now, you couldn’t help but be a little suspicious. 

“Hmm… A son? Are we having a boy?” His lips were drawn in, turning into a thin line and you could read the guiltiness on his face. He nodded his head slowly, clearly trying to read your reaction after having basically spoiled the surprise. “You just couldn’t wait to find out, could you?” You teased, and he let out a little sigh of relief when he realized that you weren’t angry. How could you be angry though? He wanted to know and you weren’t going to get mad at him for finding out. 

“Maybe we can do like… A baby shower, and a surprise gender reveal for everyone else!” He proposed the idea, and he sounded so excited, there was no way that you could turn him down, plus it sounded like fun. “The guys really want to know whether they’re getting a niece or a nephew, they’re gonna be so happy to find out!” He had been talking so loudly on the elevator, but once the doors slid open, his voice dropped to a whisper, his lips lingering right beside your ear. “This is our secret though, don’t tell them.” 

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[sweetestcaptainhughes]

Oooo I hope this challenge gets you out of your funk! How about # 2 with John Marino please!

It probably sadly won't since I seem to go through many fazes of writter's block funk. I love interacting with you guys though, so 'i might start doing more events like this in the future or events in general. I've found that if I don't have time to sit down and write the entire fic in one sitting it will sit in my google drive for months... and that's my toxic trait. I love that you requested Johnny. 💞

Drabble Challange

"How long have you been standing there?"

John knew how to be quiet, even with how tall he was he was good at sneaking up on people according to you. But according to him, it was your own fault because you got stuck in your own world espically when talking to your almost 8 month baby bump. John was leaning against the wall in the kitchen as you were standing at the stove at almost 3 AM wishing you were in bed instead. But your sweet baby girl was craving some mac and cheese. The thing about pregnancy cravings that no one told you about was that it wasn't a simple craving. It was if your throat and mouth became completely dry like a dessert until your lips touched whatever it was that you were craving. Which is why you were standing in your kitchen at the 3 AM, the only light on in your apartment being the little light coming from the top microwave over the stove.

"I hope you know how much I love you that I am making mac n cheese right now." you spoke softly, as you rubbed your stomach trying to smooth the kicking.

"hey that one hurt sweet babygirl." you whisper shouted, letting out a surprised yelp as she kicked your ribcage again. "girlie you better stop." as you smoothed down your stomach.

John cracked a full blown smile from you yelling at your unborn babygirl for being such a kicker. Coming up softly behind you, his presence still unknown to you. "baby why didn't you wake me?" John gently asks finally making his presence known.

"Jesus." jumping slightly surprised to see John standing in the entry of the kitchen. "How long have you been standing there?" you ask pointing the wooden spoon you were cooking with at him as if it was a weapon. All John does is laugh as he quietly appraches you wrapping his arms around your swollen stomach putting his hand on top of yours.

"not long. but long enough to know you shouted at babygirl." he chuckles.

"hey whisper shouted" you agure back lightly laughing. "and I didn't wake you up because you have to leave early tomorrow for that roadie.

"I don't wanna go." he admits. All you do is sigh, turning around in his arms.

"Johnny." you whisper.

"What if something happens?" finally letting his anxiety about being across the country from you being spoken out loud.

"Then your a phone call away baby. We talked about this. Babygirl is due in the middle of the season. You gotta work until she's here so you take off when she is born." you reasoned. John knew you were right but it didn't help him feel better.

"But I'll miss all the late night cravings." he agrued,

"I will call you then. But you are leaving tomorrow."

"fine." he finally agreed on one condition "but only if I get a bowl of that mac and cheese." A cheeky grin on his lips.

"That's not up to me and we both know that." Both of. you laughing at a the realization that it's up to however much your babygirl feels she needs.

[jokeroutsubs]

[ENG TRANSLATION] JOKER OUT: THE PRINCES OF ROCK'N'ROLL WITH THEIR OWN LIBRARY

Original article written by Anja Leskovar for Ljubljana.si. for their December 2021 issue. English translation by @varianestoroff and drumbeat, proofread by @flowerlotus8

Even if you don't know their names and faces (unlike many young people), you must have heard of Joker Out. Kris, Bojan, Jure, Martin and Jan proved with their fresh first album 'Umazane misli', released this autumn, that they're rightfully one of the hottest musicians at the moment. And it's worth listening to them, as, behind the handsome looks, there are interesting guys making good music with very juicy subjects. And they're only in their twenties!

It was difficult to arrange an appointment as you were quite ill. Did recording the album tire you?

Yes, it was an adrenaline rush. But we were driven by excitement, we really lived for the album this autumn, or else everything would've sunk. We wanted to perform really bad!

When they comissioned me this interview, I knew the band name, but I didn't know who you were. But when I played your music, I found out that I knew it well, I even know most of the lyrics by heart! Is it more important to you that people know your music than you?

Yes, that's something a musician can only wish for. It's important that you like music for music's sake, not for the musician. For us, music comes first, then showbiz.

How nice do you find it that your audience includes not only enthusiastic girls, but also boys, older people...? So is music the reason why someone goes to a concert?

It's very important to us that we're seen not only as pretty faces, but also as a good band. A very clear indicator that we're managing to do that is the diverse audience in front of our stage. But also the girls who come to the gig (also) to see us, they know how to recognise good music and they're quality audience. That can go hand in hand! For us, everything starts and ends with good music. That's the most important thing.

And this commitment is recognisable in your music. It's just interestingly fresh. I hear classic rock in some parts, indie pop in others, funk in others. Do I hear it right?

Yes, of course. When we were kids, we all listened to Big Foot Mama, Green Day and Siddharta, then we started to discover different genres. Now we all listen to very different music. But we don't deliberately take inspiration from any music.

And it shows. I find your music quite unique, it's hard to pigeonhole it.

Thank you, it seems the same to us. It's hard to find references to our music in other music. We say we play shagadelic rock. We're just big Austin Powers fans. His catchphrase is: "Shagadelic baby, yeah!" His 'mojo' (A/N charm, allure) is just cool to us. And in fact we feel like we have that 'mojo' too, we want to display it, we want the listeners to feel that we're comfortable in our own skin. Especially when there are concerts, the 'mojo' just bursts out of us. (everyone laughs loudly) Every time we have a concert, we feel like we're going to a party. That's also why it's really important to play live. Without this, we probably wouldn't be making music. It gives us energy.

With four guitars and drums, you are proving that rock'n'roll isn't dead. How alive is it on the Ljubljana scene?

Of course it isn't dead, it's still very alive. When we were teenagers going to clubs, they were playing anything but rock. But when people get used to it, music that sounds very different attracts them. Ljubljana has a very active rock scene, and Slovenia has excellent conditions for the growth of rock'n'roll. There are a lot of places to play, a lot of competitions for young musicians and alternative clubs with an audience to grow on.

Do you prefer intimate or big concerts?

We do great on big stages, although we've done a great gig in front of three people. But in Slovenia you reach the plateau too quickly. If you reach Stožice right away, then where do you go?

Abroad.

Yes, well, that's our goal, of course. But at the moment we're looking forward to the concert in Križanke. There's no distractions, you know you're going there for a good concert. Križanke has a special aesthetic and character that means a lot to us. And you can't just decide to do a concert in Križanke. They must accept you there. So that's a very great honor for us.

As the venue is important for a good concert, the rehearsal space is probably important too. For example, is rehearsing in a bunker more conducive to harder music than rehearsing in a sexy, neat space?

Yes, absolutely. Above all, it must be a relaxing space, one that you can spend a lot of time in and that the vibe there is good. We've rehearsed in a lot of places so far, and every time you walk in, you can see if it's working for you or not. But until you play, you don't know if it's close to you in terms of creativity or not.

Have you found your new rehearsal space yet?

We have, but we're not saying where. (they smile mysteriously) We found a place we like so much, that we decided to turn it into a second home. It'll have its own 'mojo' that matches ours. It'll be truly magical! There'll be lots of wood, and we'll also have a library.

Yes, that, books! 30 years ago, we teenagers followed boybands of all genres, and the boys were usually extremely cute, even to the extent of wrapping our school notebooks in their posters. But there's more behind your cuteness. You're into cool stuff, you read interesting literature, you study...

Jure: I don't read enough, I'm not very good with words, I don't even listen to our lyrics. I listen to the mix, to the musical melodies. I mean, I'm a cameraman, but for me, music comes first. Period.

Martin: I study Maths and Computer Science and also make a living from that knowledge. Lately I've been reading a lot, and I'm very interested in Stoic philosophy.

Kris: Well, I'm interested in German philosophers, like Hannah Arendt and Nietzsche. I'm finishing my degree in Chemical Engineering.

Bojan: I mainly study TikTok these days (laughs). It's quite banal and doesn't fit with our philosophy in general. But Jan started making really sick content that's suitable for this format and we'll start publishing it soon. Anyway, I'm finishing my degree in Sociology and I've been drawn to Haruki Murakami and Arto Paasilinna literary lately.

Jan: I'm an expert at half-reading books, the last one I read was Slaughterhouse-Five (by Kurt Vonnegut, A/N). I don't even know why I half-read them, probably because so many things steal my attention that I must try very hard to finish something. I have a problem with that, also for films.

What are you not half doing?

Jan: Music. I'm literally addicted to different types of music. I always listen to albums all the way through. I definitely listen to at least one every day. And I'm very happy learning to play new instruments. I love all things that make sound.

Let's say kitchen pots and lids?

Jan: (laughs) Also, indeed. I like cooking, I'm now exploring Thai and Chinese food.

Kris: And he makes superb onion and potato hash!

And do you like to explore the world?

Yes, everyone. We're in dire need. Our schedule is so unpredictable and events are so scattered throughout the year that most of us have not been anywhere for years, not even at sea. It's great when there are concerts, but we're missing going somewhere. Yes, to make an album also means a lot to sacrifice.

Where do you like to hang out in Ljubljana?

In many places. (they answer in harmony)

Kris: Metelkova is great. I think it's too underrated and has a wrongful negative reputation. That's also why it is the way it is.

Bojan: There's a really chill vibe in Gala Hala. I really like going unplanned to a gallery or museum. You don't go purposefully, you walk around, you observe. It's always cool. I meet people with a completely different background and you start thinking in a different way. Inspiring.

You are five in a bunch with very different characters. How do you manage to exist side by side?

Above all, there shouldn't be perfect democracy within the band. There's no need for one person to be the leader of everything. But someone must have the final say in a certain field; one in the creative one, one in the technical one, one in the financial one. And they have the last word and they're also accountable. Otherwise, we're good friends, we go everywhere together rather than forcibly apart.

How do you differ from the bands that were relevant 30 years ago?

They were much more put into boxes. They had to be already well-established to dare afford a musical journey into the unknown. We, on this album, already combined styles in a completely pressure-less way. Genres don't really exist anymore, everything is merged, mixed, everything is accepted. We live in a big melting pot. For us, energy is more important than a fixed image!

Joker Out are (from left to right) Kris Guštin - guitar, Martin Jurkovič - bass, Bojan Cvjetičanin - voice, Jan Peteh - guitar, Jure Maček - drums

December 2021

[quitealotofsodapop]

When Tieshan told Macaque of the scarf, she knew what she was doing. She may not know much of Ancient Stone Monkey culture, but she had 500 years, a mountain full of lost stories and secrets regarding the clan, and quite the incentive to learn as much as she could. After all, it could literally be the difference between life and death for Wukong and his second try at parenthood. She wasn't going to risk sowmthing as simple as a lack of knowledge from stopping her...

So somewhere on that island she came across a depiction of Stone Monkey mourning rituals, including how some monkeys would choose to bury themselves beside their mates during the Stone Egg ritual, or lacking a proper resting place, with their mate's former items so that the dao of their mate would be absorbed by their Egg. A way for their mate to live on through their child, so to speak. This means she knows what it means for Wukong to have buried himself with Macaque's scarf and continue to wear it as a waist wrap even now. And she knows Macaque and Marshall Ma knows it, too.

Pigsy asks her how she knew mentioning the scarf would get Macaque out of his funk.

Pigsy: How the hell did you know that would work!?

Tieshan: Because despite not being raised by them, Macaque is still a Stone Monkey of the Lotus-Eared variant. In their culture, to bury oneself with something covered in their mate's dao is to wish for the cub to absorb the dao and have a piece ofntheir mate pass on to the cub, if not in blood, then in spirit. We can see in Xiaotian's coloration how Wukong and Macaque's dao had mixed together to create a child that looks like both parents.

Marshall Ma: Wukong would have known about this as well, the Elder whom led us before Wukong had taken the throne of the Stone Matriarch had raised him with as much knowledge about the Stone Monkeys as he could before he passed.

Xiwangmu, interested: Stone Matriarch? I have not heard of such a being.

Marshall Ma: 'Tis the title of Wukong's predecessor, the one whom Azure claims to be Lady Sonzi's reincarnation. We know her as the Stone Matriarch of Flower Fruit Mountain. She had led our predecessor tribe before the Floods. It is said she had left an egg bearing her Heir upon the Mountain, the very same one Wukong had hatched from. It is why we made him the Monkey King once he had discovered the ancestral palace behind the Water-Curtain Cave.

Prev.

Tieshan did spend about 500 years watching the island as it's vigil, and protector. She and the Stalwarts had many times come together for meals and chats. The topic of mourning rituals came up when she expressed a comparison to Wukong's state to that of a funeral burial. The Stalwarts were quick to show her the murals inside of Water Curtain Cave, relaying the stories Elder passed on to them from his time. How the Stone Monkeys not could form a vestal child from their own Dao, but from the Dao of lost spouses - given that they buried themselves at their side or with their belongings so that the couple had a chance to produce a shared child.

Tieshan recalls how her sworn-brother's favourite scarf was last seen in Wukong's arms...

The reveal that Macaque is Xiaotian's other parent (spiritually and genetically) is enough for him to shake out of his funk - not only did Wukong still love him after all that happened, but he made an effort to ensure that his second child would be born with Macaque's life energy!

I like to think that before they leave Flower Fruit Mountain; Xiwangmu and the Jade Emperor make a point of finding one of Shíhuā's shrines/statues and sitting down to just... talk. Both to each other and to their daughter (or whomever she became). They ask her if she was happy in that life. Mention how her son can be such a handful at times but they care for him still.

Guanyin witnesses this from a distance. Tears roll down their face as it hits how the two royals truly see them their kin. They weren't lying when they called Guanyin their daughter, and Wukong their grandson.

[notroosterbradshaw]

slow dancing in a burning room - seven

word count: 6k

warnings: nsfw 18+, language.

part of: The Boyfriend Experience universe

a/n: no man's land. I hope you enjoy it. thanks to those who read, reblogged and commented on previous chapters. you’re doing god’s work. I truly appreciate your effort to show your support and if you like it… please comment and reblog it! x

You’d be lying to say you hadn’t been distracted all morning… not in the best frame of mind, half heartedly urging young teens, “Just another 50m, you got this”, because God knew, you certainly did not have this.

But you were just so tired. You hadn’t been sleeping well, you were just eating enough to say you were eating. You just felt average and it made you so angry how much you’d tangled yourself with Bradley. Self-care had taken a backseat to bury yourself in the pool’s redevelopment, you weren’t bothering with your morning ocean swim - and of course, it had nothing to do with bumping into Bradley on his morning run.

Nothing at all. 

Annie was on your case to pull yourself from your funk where you continually reminded her you were not in. You were in fact quite productive. Between the work, pool and constantly moving things around the apartment (you wished you'd never started to be honest because you just couldn’t make things work as well as they did before you nearly moved), your days were pretty full and you went to bed exhausted.

You’d just finished the early session when the first text came in. Shivering at your desk and wrapped in a sopping towel, just wanting to release the wet, tangled bun on top of your head and a hot shower to dechlorinate your irritated skin after teaching all morning, you knew protecting your peace was going to be difficult today.

Today, Bradley was to be arraigned. 

It had been a beast of a process for him. The last year his life had been so tumultuous - from deciding to move back to California, the highs of falling in love with each other, deciding to take that ridiculously quick step of moving in together. He gets the keys to his parents' villa and renovates it to build a life and a family. Everything he’d wanted for so long, to Maverick’s return. The only family he had that had destroyed all his hopes and dreams, was the Dagger mission… and subsequent crashes. His injuries, forced leave, and his mental health shattered to you leaving a man who didn’t know how to cope and not giving him the benefit of the doubt to try and help more. Your guilt crushed you in ways you’d never imagined you could ever put on another person. 

You bent in every direction for him, and it still wasn’t enough.

But the hidden truths. Your trust in him was shattered, and protecting yourself, something you were always taught, what we’re all taught but sometimes unable to walk away from someone who can’t change… but Bradley needed more help than you. And when he was put on forced leave, that was the final straw because… 

Because he almost died and when you found out through all the mistruths, he broke you. Maybe he didn’t mean to, maybe he wanted to protect you, protect what you had, but the world was bigger than what is redacted at the end of the day.

But without honesty, what the fuck did you have together? Very little, it turned out. Sex wasn’t going to save you, nor the way your heart found a new rhythm when Bradley was with you. Or how safe you felt in his arms, the way his big hands snuck under your shirt and wrapped around your soft tummy to pull you closer to his strong chest - 

Natasha Trace: He has been found not guilty. Don’t ask me what miracle or deity is on his shoulder, but to be released on Article 92 is wild! 

And you were so relieved and not just because you couldn’t compartmentalise didn’t mean those who were overseeing his case couldn’t. That was their job. Their job wasn’t to love Bradley unconditionally and feel the hurt you did for him… with him. Alone. 

It must have felt revolutionary. Your fingers found the characters to reply somehow. You were shaking, your phone trembled in your hand. Where were your glasses?!

You: How is he? Is he okay?

Natasha Trace: Disbelief. Absolute disbelief. Relief. He’s okay.

You: Thank God, thank you for letting me know, Nat.

Natasha Trace: Of course. We’re going for a celebratory drink. Do you wanna join us, or is that still the stupidest question in the world? 

You: The dumbest. 

You: But thank you.  

Natasha Trace: Can I tell him I told you?

You: I don’t think he will care, but ok. Tell him I’m happy for him and hope he’s excited to get in the air again.

Natasha Trace: I think he will get orders pretty quickly…

It sure seemed like a hint. Talk to him now before you lose him for months on end again. 

You: I’m sure he’s very excited about that. MEDHOLD? 

Natasha Trace: Awaiting TBI and psych assessment but he thinks he’s pretty close.

You: Don’t tell him I’m crossing my fingers for him.

Natasha Trace: …no, never 😉

After showering and dressing with a little more pep in your step thanks to Bradley’s good news, your brain got the best of you and you thought maybe it’d be nice to send him a small, “I’m really happy for you. I hope you enjoy getting back up in the skies” message.

Retrieving his number that was no longer your ICE, no longer the top of your Favourites, and unblocking it made your body quake, and like it was a warning, the barrage of texts you’d not received overwhelmed you.

One by one, begging, pleading for your notice, the raw, the anger, the language.

He had given you a few days of quiet before the texts started.

Bradley 🐓: Love, are you sure this is what you need? I can give you anything, let’s just please try and make this work. I’ll give you some time, whatever you want x

Bradley 🐓: I got a Not Delivered back. You’ve blocked me?

Bradley 🐓: You’ve blocked me. Shit.

Bradley 🐓: Okay, I get it, you want space, I’ll give it to you. 

Bradley 🐓: Hey you… checking if I’m still blocked.

Bradley 🐓: YEP. 

Bradley 🐓: Gotta say, I didn’t think you’d ever block me. 

The thing is, you never thought you’d ever have to block Bradley and as you eased back in your chair, your inherent need to nip something irritating to him made your fingers itch. 

Bradley 🐓: Okay, if this is what you want, I’ll leave it to you to come back to me.

Bradley 🐓: I’m so fucking sorry about tonight. I hope the door didn’t hurt you too badly. 

Bradley 🐓: Still fucking blocked. Ok. I won’t bother again. You've made your point. On me for stupidly not believing we are at this place.

You had to wonder if it was even worth sending one of your own. You couldn’t match his tone, his anger and disappointment. The congratulations text just didn’t seem to cut it but before you knew it, the “Natasha told me you’ve been acquitted. I am happy for you, Rooster. Enjoy getting back to work, I know you’ve missed it” text had written itself but it didn’t mean it was as easy to hit the send button.

And it felt colder than it sounded. You hoped he was sitting on his phone and ready to respond but when you were still waiting the next day, you had to admit you weren’t very surprised. Like he cared that you were happy for him, he deserved to move on and not deal with you and your bullshit in his life anymore. 

You desperately wanted to block him just like before, heart not prepared to see his name in your notifications again.

You hit send before you could think anymore and hoped maybe you were blocked on his end too.

“Knock, knock. Favourite granddaughter is here,” you announced, the tiresomeness in your voice evident after the barrage of Bradley’s texts weighed heavily on you as you walked into your grandparents' home for a cheeky late lunch later that day. Washed and primped (washed and in your activewear, naturally. You were a swimming teacher, not a goddamn office drone), you wandered past the photo wall to find Grandpa and… Maverick in the kitchen. Well, fuck. Your luck was the worst.

There wasn’t a midlife crisis motorbike parked out the front… this would teach you to turn up unannounced. 

“Hey, sweetheart,” Grandpa smiled, raising his arm for you to fall under with a hug in greeting. “Whatcha doing here?”

“I, uh…” you tried not to stammer. “Lunch. Thought I’d come over and say hi.”

“Do you wanna sandwich or something?” Viper said, jumping into gear. “Can make a tuna melt - ”

“That’s okay, I’ll go,” you started making excuses. You didn’t want to be around Mav and your brain didn’t have the tolerance to try and fight anymore today. “I didn’t realise you had company…” 

Viper caught the gist and nodded slowly. “You gotta eat.” 

“I have food at home,” you told him but kind of waited for Maverick to take the goddamn hint to get the fuck out. This was your safe place; you didn’t need it tainted by Pete Mitchell. 

“I should probably make a move anyway,” Maverick said, knowing fully well that the discomfort in the kitchen was all because of him. How self-aware, you thought glumly.

“No, you stay,” you tried so hard to be polite, but the tension that bubbled in your bloodstream sort of made you kind of want to curse the day the Navy dragged him yours and Bradley’s way again. 

“No, it’s ok – ”

“Don’t Mav. I’ll leave. You stay,” you tried to bite back your exasperation but it certainly didn’t appear that way. 

“Hey,” Viper warned you. He wouldn’t expect you to talk to anyone like that. 

“Look. I’m real sorry, kid,” Maverick tried, and gee, age had worn him.  

You tried to remain passive, but the frown seemed to speak volumes. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Why were you so angry at him? Did Mav even know the impact he’d had on your relationship? How Breadley would come home like a bear with a headache, angry, snide. And for that, you just couldn’t seem to disconnect your past from the present and it only made you seethe further. 

“I know I should have done this before because I know I'm the catalyst of a lot of Bradley’s problems. And in part, that burden fell on you.”

You wanted to tell him you didn’t know what he was talking about, to forget it, but as every emotion you had bubbled under the surface, you hissed back, “Well, it’s all very convenient now, I suppose. You get your kid back; you both get back up in the air and live happily ever after.” 

“That’s fair,” Maverick just seemed to take the lash of your tongue in his stride. How pathetic.

“Hey,” Viper said again, a little more warning in his voice.

“Grandpa, Mav almost got Bradley killed,” you said finally.

Viper’s gaze drifted to Mav. “I know the whole story, sweetheart.”

Taken aback, you look at your grandpa. “What?” 

“Bradley came and told me the whole thing.”

You were slow to respond, probably because your brain was overprocessing Grandpa’s reply and the sting it caused. Because Bradley came here when he couldn’t come to you? Because even though he loved you, he felt he couldn’t share this, so he came to Grandpa. 

And he couldn’t come to you?! 

“Jesus, what did you do so right to get some honesty out of him?” you retorted. 

“He was scared, kid. Bradley has already lost everything. He’d lost you. He thought his career was gone too. He needed someone to talk to.”

“I was right there, taking care of him when no one else was able to,” you could feel the rage build within you. “I was right there and he didn’t tell me until he was told - ”

“Because you were the hardest to tell, sweetheart,” Viper told you, the evenness in his voice riling you more. Why wasn’t your blood as furious as you were?! “The person who means the most in the world, who may or may not already have a vendetta against the Navy. How was he going to tell you?”

“How was he going to keep it a secret? When he wakes up screaming with nightmares every night?” you demanded, and Viper nodded slowly because he knew – you remembered vividly the nights you heard Grandpa wake screaming and Nana begged him to calm for your sake. “He’s had PTSD from the Navy since he was four and he still thinks it’s the only place he belongs.”

He belongs with me, you wanted to scream but thankfully managed to bite back.

“He will always have something to prove. With you, without you,” Maverick said your name evenly. “Regardless of anything that ever happened. He barely knew his old man and for a while, he got away with no one knowing Goose Bradshaw was his old man - ”

“So, what… now he’s got more to fight against?” you muttered.

“In a way, yes.”

Oh, you could fucking punch him and resisting it was becoming futile. You turned to him. “Please don’t say another word,” and there was so much threat in your cautioning. You felt feral, every emotion you’d been pushing down since everything exploded was waiting precariously on your tongue and in range was the one who it all centred around. 

Maverick nodded and for a minute, you thought he’d respect your decision… but nope. “I know him so well. It’s what he hates most about me. I knew his father better than he ever did and Rooster is just like Goose. Always bred for more. Always striving for that next part.”

“If you never came back, he’d still be with me, and we’d be happy. Since you walked back into his life, you unapologetically ruined him again after he fought for everything he has now. And I was there. Trying to fix him when he didn’t know how to fix it himself. But it fell on deaf ears because he didn’t trust me enough to tell me - ”

“He trusts you, kid,” Maverick told you evenly. “You are the only one he trusts and that is what makes it worse for him.”  

It was like a car accident. Bradley’s hand was so close to knocking on the weatherboard of the Metcalfe residence and hearing you, the absolute venom in your tone as you lashed Maverick inside. Bradley had never heard you like this, even when you fought with him, your voice was never as cool and callous. 

“I loved him. I wanted my future with him, and it was taken from us.”

“There’s still time - ” Mav tried and for a moment, Bradley stopped breathing because if what came next from your lips gave him the slightest piece of hope, he was going to walk inside and take you in his arms, right where you belonged and make you see reason if it was the last thing he ever did.

“There isn’t - he doesn’t want me. He doesn’t want anything to do with me. He’s got plenty of other options out there, Mav,” you hissed. “You think I’m stupid enough to think he hasn’t moved on? When I saw him at the bar a few weeks ago, he looked right through me. Then his date - whatever she was - followed him out. Trust me, I’m aware Bradley has moved on.”

The men remained quiet, because they knew Bradley hadn’t moved on. Bradley was not thinking about moving on. Bradley was only thinking about you. 

“You didn’t get to Viper’s and invite him for a drink?” Maverick asked a while later, cold beer in hand and sliding another across the bar to Bradley, free Bradley, Bradley who was ready to get up in the air again and get his life back on track after one of the worst periods of his life.

And shit, he’d had a lot of them in his short time on the planet to compare. 

He gave Mav a wary side-eye. “No, by the time I got back from the gym, I thought it was rude to pop over around dinner time,” Bradley lied spectacularly, and he knew Mav could see right through him. He'd watched his godson from the moment he walked in, rigid, terse and for a guy who had the world at his feet again, Mav knew something was still troubling him.

“Talk to me, Bradley.”

“Mav, I heard her.”

“Heard who?” Mav was clueless to Bradley’s less-than-subtle hints. Who else was she?

Bradley sighed, easing against the sticky bar as Javy came past, shaking his shoulders happily. “Congrats, brother. So fuckin' happy for you!” he exclaimed as Bradley gave a sheepish grin in reply and Javy said he’d be back with drinks shortly. 

“Bradley,” Mav got his attention again.

He sighed, sipping his beer to wet his throat. “I heard her yell at you, at Viper and I almost didn’t recognise her voice because of the anger laced in it. And it was because of me she was that heated.” 

Of course. Bradley had come to invite Viper for a drink and caught your vitriol instead. Mav sighed, contemplating his next words. Because even though he’d just got him back in his life, he knew his fractured relationship with Bradley was going to take time to heal fully. Knowing what he knew about Bradley, if he pushed too hard, he would resist. He was so headstrong, and at times, unable to see the forest for the trees, but Mav persisted carefully anyway. “Something tells me, like you, Bradley… she’s had this vendetta lined up for a while. Viper, her old man, now you, and probably me because of my involvement in the last few months... years, I suppose.”

“Doesn’t give her the right to take it out on anyone,” Bradley reminded him.

“She probably never has, and that’s why this smarts so much. You’re more alike than you think. Allathis,” Mav motioned around them at the Naval paraphernalia hanging around the bar. “It’s all you both know. She hasn’t felt the joy from it you do. She lost her faith a long time ago. And for now, you are collateral damage from years of turmoil.

When did this motherfucker get so smart? It left a bitter taste in Bradley's mouth he could be receiving such frank advise from MAv after everything they'd been through.

"But if it told me anything, son, it's that woman loves you and that’s what is making everything so much harder for her.” 

Staring hard at the older man, Bradley guzzled the cool beer down his throat and for once, didn’t know what to say, so Maverick continued, “If anything, have faith that she is still crazy about you. And it’s not over, but it will take time. And it’ll need to be the right time.” 

“When’d you start dishing out all this maturity?” it was all Bradley could find himself saying as Mav broke into a smirk that was almost permanent on his face as a younger, much more careless man. The years had matured him. Gone was the flashy, wide unbeatable grin that was constantly in competition with Ice for the biggest ego and accolades, replaced with a softer version, one that had listened and learned from the auxiliary noise around him. 

One of Mav’s biggest regrets was never settling down and having a family. When it didn’t work with Charlie all those years ago, and it took so long for him and Penny to see eye to eye on where they wanted to be in life, he knew he had to step back and re-evaluate how to get where he needed to. And that didn’t always mean fighting for it, it sometimes meant to take that step back and let fate take its course. 

When Goose died, Mav tried to step in to be the father that Bradley had lost, and for a long time, Bradley let him try and fill that void of a father figure. But it only took one betrayal on Mav’s behalf to become Bradley’s enemy and the resentment that Bradley had for him shook Mav to his core. It wasn't a risk he was willing to take again. He knew better and would do what was needed to support his family the way they needed it. This time, he was going to be everything Bradley needed even if it was to his detriment.

It was only a few days later after your showdown with Mav that you’d gotten word Bradley had flown out, and you were free as a bird to leave the house and see what the outside world had turned into while you’d turned your back on it. Why, you wondered at this time, you’d bothered, was another thing.

“So, if you don’t have a boyfriend, why can’t I buy you a drink?” the young officer asked as you chewed your tongue and could swear, you tasted blood. What was it with these Navy fuckboys who thought anyone was fair game after a few drinks? Not all that much had changed, not even the quiet seething Bob displayed a few seats up, prepping himself to step in.

What was wrong with you to think coming here was a good idea… at any time… anymore?

“Because I have a drink,” you explained quietly again, showing he couldn't take no for an answer, your glass. “I don’t need another. I appreciate the gesture, but no.” 

“Come on, just one.”

“Holy shit – ” you finally snapped but you felt his body heat behind you before you could get the words out. You’d know it anywhere. When did he walk in? …how much had he seen? He wasn't supposed to be here!

You stiffened and maybe more agitated than you were before. 

“Lieutenant,” the young pilot straightened, and it all but confirmed you knew Bradley Bradshaw, who was supposed to be on a boat somewhere in the middle of the big blue was behind you. You were going to kill Hangman. Kill him.

“Nice to see you, Rhodes. Heard you got blown out of the sky today…” Bradley said, the amusement in his voice paramount but you didn’t once let your guard down. You didn’t need him to fight your battles for you. 

“Uh, yeah…” the meekness in the young officer’s voice was obvious. You didn’t always realise the command Bradley had over others. Of course, you knew how people were drawn to him, but seeing him with a subordinate was infatuating, to say the least. You didn’t often see him in a position of real power, and it would be shameful to admit, it was sexy. 

“And by Hangman no less,” Bradley laughed quietly, that amused chuckle that you knew had a whole other hidden meaning. “Would probably be a good idea to stop drowning your sorrows and prepare for tomorrow, huh?”

“Guess so…”

“And apologise.”

“Look, I didn’t think you guys were dating anymore – ” Rhodes tried but didn’t offer an apology.

“What difference does that make?” you snapped, confidence growing in Bradley’s presence. You felt him stand a little closer, his heat prickling your back, behind you you wondered if he noticed it too.

“If you think that is what this is about, your ego is more outta check than you’re letting on."

You heard Rhodes mutter, “I’m sorry,” while he skulked away, and you finally breathed as Bradley stayed quiet behind you. “Jesus fuckin’ Christ…” you heard him mutter as he joined his other friends. 

“You okay?” Bradley asked gently. 

“I’m fine,” you reassured him, the slight snipe still in your voice. But you didn’t dare turn to face him, because if you looked up at him, that would make this whole thing real - that he was right there with you. You weren’t surprised when your stool was slowly spun towards him and his friendly, impish smile graced his handsome face… his beard was well grown in and manicured to the navy’s specification, his sun-kissed curls a lot longer than you’d ever seen on him and you swear, he’d never looked more handsome. “Hi.” you managed and God, he looked desperate to be kissed. You missed those plump, beautiful lips. 

“Hello,” he replied, holding your gaze. Not hard, just… tender. 

“Thanks. You didn’t need to… do that.”

“I know I didn’t. And I know you’re perfectly capable of standing up for yourself. I just wanted to make sure that little pissant knew what he was getting himself into if he went ten rounds with you.”

And you couldn’t help it as you bit back a giggle, hiding your burgeoning laughter behind your hand. Because if he knew one thing about you… it was that you were the dirtiest fucking fighter around and that poor kid would have been laid out with your lash of the tongue alone. “Well, you’d know…” you admitted as he licked back a smirk of his own and hummed. “Can I buy you a drink to say thanks?” you offered softly, and you weren’t sure he’d even heard you in the commotion of a Friday night. You barely heard the sound of your voice from the raging heartbeat in your ears.

He scratched the back of his neck, looking back at the fellas… all of whom were keenly watching on. Unabashed and gawking. Fuck those guys, he rolled his eyes and came back to you. “I shouldn’t…” 

“Get her a drink, you goddamn pussy!” Hangman mouthed viciously and Bradley pretended he couldn’t read his wingman’s lips. He wished he couldn't.

“Yeah, okay. The least you can do is buy me a beer.”

“Hangman has a tab,” you informed him, that devious glint in your eyes shining. 

“Top-shelf whiskey,” Bradley replied confidently.

You gave the order and times it by two, Bradley raising an interested eyebrow. You stayed together in a strange silence for a while, both waiting for your drinks to whet your palette and bring up the courage to say something that was simply… kind… to the other. God knows your last conversation was anything but. 

Taking your first thankful sips, you both laughed as the exact same line came out to the other, “How have you been?” you both dropped your eyes bashfully, uncomfortably and you tried asking him again.

“Not too bad,” he admitted. 

“I was told you had shipped out.” You would still kill Hangman.

“Checking up on me?” his upper lip twitched as you ducked your head. “Phoenix?”

“Hangman,” you corrected him as he chuckled quietly. 

“Dick,” he muttered shortly. “They extended my medical leave just another few days. Paperwork.”

You looked at him, he looked right as rain. 

“And you were right about the shitty shrink stuff,” he pointed to his head while he read yours. “PTSD.”

Well, yeah, you wanted to say it was the least shocking thing he could tell you. “Oh. Oh, Bradley,” you said delicately.

He nodded and shrugged. “Please don’t feel sorry for me. I’ve seen that whole look my whole fuckin’ life, I just can’t stand you looking at me like that too. This is what I’ve been trying to avoid from the get-go.” 

“Then you’re gonna really hate me after this,” you gently touched his ribs, knowing their previous injury and left your hands to skim his cotton tee before wrapping him in your grasp, the muscles tense under your touch. “I’m sorry, Bradley,” you murmured into his chest, and he sighed, his breath against you shuddered. Your shampoo invaded his nostrils, and goddamn, if he didn’t miss that fuckin’ perfect scent and how it lingered. 

He couldn’t fight it if he tried and he wrapped his arms around you, trying to desperately not lose it and do all he really wanted to do – cry. Cry for him, cry for you, cry for how badly you’d both fucked up. And he’d be lying to say that being in your arms felt so good. He missed the warmth of your curves, maybe a little less than he remembered, and he breathed you in, his love. And the hardest thing he ever had to get over.

Because, unlike his other losses, who left his life, wholly? You were there every day while he tried to make it without you. That sting of trying to get over you in every facet of his life and he just couldn’t move on from you. And that made it worse. 

“It’s not all bad,” he said, lips so close to your ear. “A long story short, I did get clearance and I’m out in 48 hours. Just for the record. The counselling has to continue weekly.”

“Just like me,” you said, a little sing-song. 

Bradley scoffed, humoured. “Yeah… just like you. A pair a’ damaged goods.”  

“Jesus Christ,” you exclaimed, breaking the revelry as Bradley’s arms were covered in cool liquid and he figured, so was your back.

“What the fuck?” he pulled back, alarmed as he looked at some of the younger officers getting into each other’s faces, glasses hitting the floor, drinks flying. It was broken up as quickly as it escalated, Bradley pushing you gently behind him to avoid getting caught in the fracas. “You okay?” he asked over his shoulder as you were reaching for the napkins on the bar just out of your reach. He moved before you and retrieved them, helping you dab away whatever had - yep, drenched you, the back of your hair dripping and the back of your dress sopping. 

“Yeah, just a drink or something,” you sighed.

“Lemme help,” he said, carefully turning you around and tenderly mopping up the bare skin on your back. And he’d be lying to say that if he just reached a little lower, he’d be able to kiss that freckle behind your ear, but blinking that image away, he knew this was not the time to be fantasising about the woman whom he fantasised about every night. 

He sighed and removed his shirt, white V-neck underneath. “Take this,” he said your name a few times over the commotion in the bar after the almost fight.

Raising your hands, you told him not to worry. You’d just take off and get a shower. “It was a bad idea coming out tonight. You know when you feel it’s not the time?”

“Well, you did think I had already flown out, so you probably should have trusted your intuition.” 

And you stared up at him, watching him biting back a grin and as he wrapped his shirt over your shoulders, watching you slip your arms into the sleeves, all he wanted to do was pull you in tight again, kiss your hair and tell you how he was still so in love with you that it was keeping him awake at night, that it was you that he still jerked off and willingly spilling into his hand and all over his stomach to. He imagined you riding him, giving him the messiest head like only you knew how, kissing him while he made love to you, and he held your arms trapped above your head as you trembled beneath him, as you came around him. 

“You sure you’re okay, kid?” he asked, chewing his lip, and fixing the collar on the shirt. But you were so swept up in his smell that lingered, and as you tightened it around yourself, your eyes changed just for that flash that told Bradley that maybe, just maybe, it wasn’t just him who was feeling the way he was. “Can I drive you home?” 

You shook your head. “It’s okay. I know you have things to do tomorrow - ”

“Come on,” he offered gently, nudging his head towards the door and as he collected your bag and urged you to wander out before him, you knew it was going to take all your strength to just allow this to happen. “Lemme get you outta here.” 

And who were you to argue? Because honestly. You’d follow him anywhere. The man you loved, the man you’d hurt so badly. Nodding gently and seeing that sweet gentleness in his honey-coloured eyes, you let him usher you ahead, his strong hand easy on your lower back, just like it was any other night, the way he’d guide you through the masses, softly, securely, protectively. 

You wriggled as the cool alcohol pressed into your back, and Bradley flinched, thinking you wanted his hands off you – when it couldn’t be any further from the truth. He took his palm away and opened the door as you exited. “You really don’t have to drop me home,” you told him. “I’ll just grab an Uber.”

“It’s fine, really. I had, like, two drinks. Probably best I call it a night and make sure I’m organised anyway,” he replied, leading you to the Bronco. He unlocked your side and naturally opened the door, offering his hand to help you step in.

“Thanks,” you said quietly, taking his offered warm palm and he helped hoist you in with the slightest of assistance. Buckling up, your eyes followed him to the driver’s side, and he just looked so handsome. You were surrounded by him with his shirt and cologne filling your senses. It all felt too familiar and that scared you terribly. He was fiddling with the keys before popping in and hopping into the seat. He gave you a small smile as he buckled up and gunned the engine, unsurprisingly Al Green low through the stereo. 

It was a quiet trip towards your apartment, keeping your eyes on the passing coastline, scared if you looked at him, you’d do something stupid and just revelling in being the closest you’d been to him in months. 

“You see they demolished that old villa near Penny’s place?” he mumbled. 

“Yeah, how ridiculous,” you said to him. “It was such a gorgeous home. I think they’re dozing it for apartments or something,” you continued the small talk as you passed his villa. You noticed the ladder out front and scaffolding around the roof. “How’s it all going here?”

“Ahh, okay,” he shrugged, trying to focus on the road. “You know, a lot to be done still.”

“I can imagine,” you agreed, studying his face. His profile was completely different with his neat beard, but the rest of him was bigger and stronger. He’d laid countless hours into the gym while on leave and you could see the proof. Your eyes travelled over his tanned biceps and the way the white tee sleeve strained over them, following the vein to his inner elbow and wrist, hand clutching the gear shirt, long fingers wrapped around it. “Thanks for the lift home.”

“Anytime,” he replied, peeking a look back at you and a small smile crept to his handsome features, knowing he was sprung. But alas, so were you. “What?”

You shook your head gently, mortified inside that he caught you checking him out. But what were you to do? He was always so incredibly handsome, and you just missed being near him, being around his warmth, even if it wasn’t something you could bathe in like you used to. 

As much as he made you nervous to be in this proximity again… you felt incredibly content just being with him. His quiet calm always had a way of reassuring you, even before you started dating. 

A few more moments in relative silence aside from the stereo, Bradley pulled into the apartment carpark and put the car in park.

Ask him in, your brain screamed.

Kiss him, it added.

Fix this, your brain had officially melted down.

And when all you muttered was a “thanks” for driving you home, for giving up his shirt, for being the bigger person to be able to do both… you sunk into a funk that you just weren’t expecting tonight. Because even though the night was a happy accident, there was so much unsaid.

“No problem,” he said, hands gripping the steering wheel like if you tried to kiss him, he would let you, like if you asked him in, he’d willingly follow. He was anticipating your next move but you didn’t know what it was. 

“Bye,” you unbuckled and opened the door, scooting out before you made more of a mess of everything than you had to now. 

“Night,” he said, sadly lips pursed together as you gently closed the door over and refused to look back as you went to the stairs and forced one foot then the next to continue climbing the flights until you were safely at your door. 

With one last glance back, you weren’t surprised to still see Bradley’s Bronco parked and you waved timidly, not willing to see if he returned the gesture before finding solace in your apartment.

You tossed your bag on the bench and made a beeline for your bedroom, spent. Mentally, your brain was fried. Physically, all you could think about was Bradley and how he could amp you up with very little attempt on his behalf. You wrapped his shirt tightly around you, taking in the Acqua di Gio that lingered.

You missed the way the scent drifted around the apartment and how much it truly reminded you of him. You carefully slipped it off and folded it just like he would have if it were him removing it before unzipping your damp dress, the alcohol stinging gently against your skin and discarded the dress in a pile at your feet. 

Needing a hot shower, you rinsed yourself of the mess of the evening but as you hung your towel up after your evening skincare, Bradley’s cologne wasn’t lost on you in the small room. His smell overwhelmed you and as you moved towards the shirt again, bringing the collar to your nose, you knew the time had come to fix this. 

To fix you.

To fix him.

And to fix you back together.

masterlist.

Big thanks as always to @sometimesanalice for helping me get this fic over this line when this chapter really needed it! x

A/N: the tag list no longer exists. To keep up to date, give @notroosterbradshaw-library a follow x

[kenyaru]

STILL HURTS | 01

SO THIS IS HEARTBREAK..

synopsis | maximilian goof has made one of the most goofy decisions ever: he forgave bradley uppercrust. he sat there, accepted his apologies after getting kicked out of the Gammas and actually became friends with him, trusting that he would have change and to not hold a grudge, just like his dad said. albeit against his best friends' wishes, he and uppercrust got closer, and eventually a somewhat-friendship turned into a romance. but, a year or so later, bradley did the unthinkable, leading to their breakup. was he wrong to trust? genre | angst, heartbreak, making up(?), oneshot pairing | max goofy x bradley uppercrust iii (maxley) warnings | implied internalized homophobia, mild cursing, angsty word count | 1.76k author's note | hii! i finally posted part 1 of this fic! this is heavily inspired by 'a seriously goofy romance' by pidge030 on ao3. this is my first time writing with these characters that already have some spitefulness, so i hope you enjoy it! lmk if you would like a part 2 :> ______________________________________________________________

One month. It’s been exactly one month since he and Bradley broke up. One month since their huge argument had caused him to walk out on the other and only a few weeks since Bradley had tried to contact him and soon stopped all together. Max hated to admit it, but he regretted how he acted, but how could he not react badly? Max sat up in bed, sighing as he ran a hand through his hair. He was just trying to relax after a long day of classes, but Bradley’s words clouded his mind. I can’t believe you- cheating on me..I knew I shouldn’t have trusted you, Goof. 

It was the audacity in Bradley’s mind to accuse Max for something like that, knowing that Max had liked, and had come to love, Bradley more than ever. He felt more for Bradley than he felt for anyone; the way he got butterflies when the others bought him flowers or would compliment him in his own sort-of rude way. He recalled Bradley mentioning him talking to some girl in a way that seemed flirtatious and he responded by saying that Bradely had his assumptions; that he used Max’s sexuality against him. 

Maybe Bobby and P.J. were right to be skeptical. When Bradely got kicked out of the Gammas and was trying to make amends, his best friends were the first people on the hate-train, not wanting to forgive the brunette. Max, still in his own feelings, reluctantly decided to let him in. Some advice his father gave him was to not hold a grudge and try to see past the mistake. At some point, Bradley had been interested in Max joining them, even if it was just to win.

One thing led to another and they went from close friends to a couple. Well, until now.

Max checked his clock, noticing it was nearly 6 and decided to go for a skate to calm himself before going to eat dinner. Bobby and P.J. were at the Bean Scene last he remembered, but that was over an hour ago, before he got into his funk over Bradely. He had blocked the brunette’s number after the first few messages, not wanting to hear his pitiful apologies.

Even though he seemed angry and not affected, he still cried some nights, he still felt the pain in his chest, he still looked at the photos he and Bradely took during their year of being together. He was a junior in college now, he shouldn’t be held up by some guy that graduated already. He fortunately unfortunately still got to see Bradely on campus as he was studying for his PhD and was working in the library sometimes for whatever reason he mentioned; Max must have been too angry to remember. 

Max physically shook his head, putting on his shoes and adjusted his sweatshirt, picking up his skateboard and walking out of his dorm room. He wasn’t going to think about Bradely anymore, fill his head with memories and feelings he wanted to forget. He headed for the skating area, skating past the empty roads on campus. Hm, maybe everyone was at the Bean Scene right now, which most likely meant Bradely too. 

Once he got there, Max went to the ramp and skated down, doing a trick and feeling the cool breeze on him as he moved quickly on the board. He missed this feeling, this carefreeness that he lacked in the past few weeks, few days even. He felt so congested, like his life was missing something. Skating was something he enjoyed before Bradely, so he thought it wouldn’t hurt as much, yet skating did remind him of how they met, how they got to dating in the first place, how they learned to work together and move past their previous disagreements that made them ‘enemies.’ 

Max continued to do tricks, flipping the board mid-air and landing, focused on what was ahead instead of the board itself, forcing himself to not get caught up in his thoughts and accidentally fall. He was doing good, so good, until he looked over, and caught a glimpse of brunette hair. Before he knew it, he was stumbling and before he could catch himself, he was on the ground in the middle of the skating rink.

He looked up, only to see a completely different person walking past the rink, looking over for just a moment before continuing their walk. He sighed, putting his head against the concrete. He panicked because he thought it was Bradely, because he thought it was the one person he didn’t- well, maybe he did, want to see. He was royally fucked up.

—------ 

Back in the dorms, Max laid back on his bed, phone in hand as he scrolled through his social media, going to Bradley’s profile on instinct and seeing that he hadn’t made any new posts since the breakup. Everything was still up; the pictures of them on their first date, the X-Games from that year and pictures of himself and the group. He closed the app, opening up the messaging app and seeing Bradely’s as a pin. Though he blocked him, he never removed him from his pins. He shouldn’t be reminiscing, looking back at these messages, possibly putting himself in a deeper funk. But he couldn’t stop himself, he wanted to, he missed him. 

He opened his messages with Bradely and finally saw the stream of texts that he had ignored when it was first sent. Angel? I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to accuse you. Can we please talk? Please, let me explain. Call me back. Max, please. I love you, I feel terrible. I get it, you need space.

Max repeated the last message in his head, practically hearing Bradley's voice, the imagination making his heart break. Angel was what Bradely had begun calling him, stating the reason was that when he first saw him on a skateboard, he saw an Angel in Max. Max hated that he couldn’t be mad anymore, that even though it still hurt like hell to be accused like that, his feelings for the other had overridden that. Maybe it was time for him to step up, stop hiding and speak to him again. Clearly, Bradely still cares or he wouldn’t have spammed him for a week. 

He checked the time, noting it was a bit past 8:30 now. Had he really sat there for nearly half an hour staring at some messages? He sighed and unblocked the number, hesitating on how to start the message. Should he be apologetic or upfront? Should he even be doing this at all? His thoughts were interrupted when P.J. and Bobby entered the dorm, making him flinch and nearly drop his phone.

“You still in here all depressed, man?” Bobby asked, kicking off his sneakers and climbing onto the top bunk. 

“Ha, ha, very funny. I’m doing just fine, actually.” Max retaliated, sitting up and putting his phone to the side. 

“Really? ‘Cause your face tells a different story, like you were contemplating life or death just now or something.” P.J. adds, sitting down on the bottom bunk and taking off his own shoes. “If this is about Bradley, we told you to just talk to him about it. You know he would never hurt you intentionally. That dude loves you.”

Max sighed, taking in what was said by his friends. They were right; in the year or so that he had been dating Bradely, he had always been clinged onto him, praising him and striving to be the best versions of themselves together. Though they had a rough start, it was clear that Bradley’s attraction towards him was real. He ran a hand through his hair, considering it. “Alright, maybe I will..soon.” Max picked up his phone, looking at Bradley’s contact again, the picture of them staring back at him. Bradleys toothless small smile compared to his wide grin. “Nuh-uh, not soon, tomorrow. The more you hold off, the more you’re going to procrastinate and the cycle will start all over again.” Bobby urged, pointing down at Max assertively. “Whatever you’re about to do, do it. Let him know you’re still into him- you are still into him, right?”

Max nodded, returning the look at Bobby. “Of course I am..I can’t stop thinking about him.” “Okay, so put on your big boy pants and let him know!” Bobby exclaimed, encouraging the other. 

“Bobby’s right, if you want him back, and to get on good terms, you need to accept his calling.” P.J. added, already laying down as the conversation continued. Max opened up the chat again and started typing, letting his hands do the work as he typed out whatever came to his mind that he thought would be appropriate. 

Hey, you were right. I needed some space. I’m ready to talk if you’re ready to explain. Max let out a sigh of relief as he sent the message, putting his phone on the nightstand as he laid down, anxiously waiting for a reply. He looked back up to see what the others had to say, but he saw both Bobby and P.J. already asleep. They were out all night and didn’t really sign up to be his therapists on the situation, so they had no reason to really stay awake for this. 

Within a few minutes of staring at his ceiling, moments from falling asleep, his phone pinged. Max quickly took his phone and saw the incoming message from Bradley. Alright. Meet me at the Bean Scene, 6am tomorrow. It’s usually empty at that time, so we can talk then. 

Max felt his heart thump in his chest, both of worry and excitement. He would be seeing Bradely again, be in his presence and see him face to face for the first time in what felt like forever. He sent a thumbs up emoji before putting his phone on the charger and getting up. He nearly forgot he had on his outdoor clothes, unlike his friends. He chuckled softly to himself and quickly headed to the bathroom to change into some pajamas before returning.

Once back in bed, Max got comfortable in his covers and rested his head on the cool pillow. He closed his eyes, trying to relax and fall asleep. Tomorrow, he will be seeing his love again. Tomorrow they were going to talk it out and hopefully he would get the closure he would need. Was he even ready to forgive as much as he convinced himself he was? Fuck, he was so scared for tomorrow.

______________________________________________________________

[rafyki]

Goth! Nico/ Surfer! Percy AU Part 3!

Here, have some awkward flirting by two absolute lovestruck losers (ﾉ◕ヮ◕)ﾉ*:･���✧ Oh how I love writing them being absolute disaster around each other asdsgsdhdff

@neo-kid-funk I managed to finish this part before I thought, I hope you like it!!! And I hope it fuels your inspiration for new art *evil laugh*

(For everyone who hasn't seen it yet, go to Neo's blog and enjoy her beautiful art!! This fic was inspired by her perfect design of older goth Nico <33)

Part 1, Part 2

~~~~~~

Nico didn’t expect it to become a habit. He expected it to be a one time thing, the kind of thing that turns your world upside down for a while but doesn’t really change anything in the long run. 

He expected to go back to work the next time for his shift and to not exchange more than a couple of words with Percy.

Even in his wildest fantasies he had not expected Percy to actually go and make conversation with him. 

“Doesn’t it drive you crazy? That you’re always on the beach so close to the ocean yet you can’t go in the water?” 

Percy had his usual drink in his hand, and Nico had been ready to wish him a nice day and watch him walk away as it always happened.

That was how things usually went. Not this.

Nico could feel his world shift around its axis (a little dramatic, yes, he knew, and he also had no doubt that Leo would tease him nonstop if he told him), and an annoying blush creeping up his neck to his face as Percy looked at him with a curious look.

He looked away, trying to find something, anything, to do that would make him appear busy and give him an excuse to avoid those way too perfect eyes.

He had not been prepared for this.

“Uhm”, he started, remembering that he had been asked a question.

He could almost hear Jason’s voice in his head yelling at him that it’s your chance, it’s your chance, talk to him!; together with Leo’s voice screaming go make him fall for you, goth boy!

Shaking his head a little, he tried to shoo them away.

“I’m not a huge fan of the ocean”, he said in the end.

And, well, that had been perhaps the wrong thing to say, judging by Percy’s horrified expression. Eyes wide wide and mouth hanging open there where he had been about to take another sip of his drink, he was looking at Nico like he had just admitted that he liked to kick kittens in his free time. It was equal parts comical and mortifying.

Before Nico could decide if he wanted to laugh at that expression or regret every life choice that had led him up to that point, Percy let out a shocked “What!?”

And for some reason, that made him chuckle, left him smiling behind his hand.

“Was that the wrong answer?”, he asked, trying and probably failing to keep the teasing tone out of his voice. 

Percy took a moment to answer. He was looking at Nico carefully, a weird expression on his face now that Nico couldn’t read. It made Nico feel a little unstable on his feet; he didn’t even realize he was staring right back at Percy until he noticed the slight red on his nose and cheekbones and found himself thinking that it was cute how Percy still got sunburn even when it seemed that he basically lived on the beach under the sun.

Percy cleared his throat, and the world started moving again around them.

“Yes!”, he said. “How can you not like the ocean?”

Nico shrugged, and threw a glance at the immense expanse of water before him. There were a lot of reasons he wasn't really fond of it, but he wasn’t sure Percy would appreciate them.

“It’s not that I don’t like it, I just don’t like getting in the water”.

“That basically means you don’t like it though”.

Nico rolled his eyes. His heart was beating a little too fast, his hands were sweaty, and he kept playing nervously with the rings on his lips. And he wanted nothing more than for this moment and this conversation to stretch on for as long as possible.

“It seems you’re taking this pretty personally”, he said, smiling. 

Percy smiled back, and Nico’s heart replied with somersaults. “I am, I take the ocean very seriously”.

Nico had guessed, but it was nice hearing it directly from Percy, adding this information to his mental list of things I know about him. For some reason, he had the feeling that that list would keep growing from now on.

His eyes fell on the trident tattoo on Percy’s left bicep. It made Nico feel weak in the knees every time he saw it, his mind immediately offering him the haunting thought of what it would feel like under his fingers. He sort of wanted to bite it.

No, not the time for this kind of thoughts!

He was definitely blushing now - he just hoped that the shadow of the kiosk's little roof was enough to hide it. 

You’re the worst, Nico di Angelo, shame on you.

Percy must have noticed where he was looking though, because he glanced at his tattoo too. “Yeah, I guess it was pretty obvious”, he laughed. 

Oh he had such a nice laugh. 

“You’re a big fan of the Little Mermaid?”, Nico asked, because for some reason that was the first thing that had come to his mind.

It made Percy laugh a little more though, so Nico counted it as a victory.

“That’s definitely part of it, I think I must have watched that movie a thousand times when I was little”.

Nico mentally added that new information to his list.

“Maybe you were a mermaid in your past life”, he suggested. “Or some sort of sea god”.

Those last words escaped his mouth before he could hold them back. He had not meant to say them out loud - damn his brain and his too fast mouth and his stupid huge crush. Percy did look like a sea god but that didn’t mean Nico had to say it out loud and expose himself like that. See, that’s why he didn’t want to talk to Percy, he knew he would make a fool of himself. Maybe the ground would be so nice as to open up and swallow him whole right now.

(Oh, he knew his friends would laugh at him like crazy for this later).

When he found the courage to look back at Percy, he found him still smiling, an amused look in his eyes. 

Nico’s stomach curled painfully on itself in a mix of embarrassment and stupid fondness. He was so weak for that look.

“In that case that would mean you just told a sea god that you don’t like the ocean”, Percy said. “That could be a problem”.

“I never said I don’t like it”, Nico pointed out, surprised at himself for how he could still speak despite his internal turmoil. “And also, I said you might have been one in your past life”.

Percy waved a hand. “That doesn’t matter. You know gods aren’t that reasonable”.

“Are you saying I should apologize?”

“Precisely”, Percy said, nodding solemnly.

That was such a weird conversation to have with someone you barely knew. Yet Nico couldn’t hold back the smile growing on his lips. Despite the continuous maelstrom raging inside him, he probably hadn’t stopped smiling for a second the whole time; it made him feel like a fool, but it was alright because Percy had been smiling for the whole time too.

“And how should I do that?”, Nico asked. 

Percy seemed to think about it for a moment. “You could let me teach you how to surf”.

Nico stopped. Time stopped, the whole world stopped, even the waves of the ocean itself probably stopped moving.

In the least useful way possible, his mind conjured the terrible image of himself on a surfboard in the water with Percy wet and handsome next to him, holding him to show him what to do.

No, nope, no way. He would end up drowning after two seconds, either because surfing was definitely not his thing, or because letting the ocean swallow him would be the less embarrassing option.

“Uhm”, was the only thing that came out of his mouth“I… don’t think that would be such a good idea”. 

Why is he asking me this though, oh my god what’s going on here.

His embarrassment must have caught up to Percy, because suddenly his smile turned awkward and so was also the short laugh that escaped his lips.

“I was just joking of course!”, he said quickly. Nico watched the way he rubbed his neck, the way he wasn’t looking at him anymore. “Well, then-”

“I mean!”, Nico cut him off without thinking. 

That well then sounded way too much like Percy was about to leave, and Nico didn’t want that.

The relaxed feeling from before was gone, replaced with awkwardness hanging heavily in the air around them. If he had let Percy leave now, Nico was afraid he wouldn't see him again.

Don’t ruin this! It’s your chance!

This time, he tried his best to listen to his friends’ voices in his head.

“I- I mean”, he said again. “I’m really not good with water”.

He hoped his smile came out more apologetic than absolutely mortified and embarrassed. The pounding of his own heart was deafening almost, he could feel it in his throat, making it hard to breathe and push the words out. “Thanks for the offer though…?”. It came out more like a question than anything.

Idiot idiot idiot.

“Ah- uhm”, Percy, said, letting out an awkward laugh. He wasn't looking at Nico anymore, his eyes fixed on his still half full drink. “Yeah, sure”.

You have to fix this!

“I'll just- look at you surfing and enjoy the ocean from afar for now”.

Weird, that was weird! Had he really just admitted that he would just stare at him? Maybe drowning in the ocean really was the best case scenario for him. No way his blush wasn't visible right now. 

Percy must be thinking that he was the weirdest and creepiest guy right now. Nico wanted to die.

But then, Percy looked back at him, and the look on his face wasn't creeped out or uncomfortable - just surprised, eyes blinking slowly and mouth hanging open like he wanted to say something but didn't know exactly what. Nico watched as a small smile made its way back to his lips. The red sunburn on Percy's cheeks was mesmerizing.

“Sounds good to me”.

And okay, perhaps he hadn't ruined everything completely. Perhaps he would get to talk to Percy again.

Someone cleared their throat behind him, making Nico almost jump out of his skin. He had forgotten there was a whole world outside of himself and the man in front of him.

“Nico, we have to switch, it's time for your break”, Jason's voice reached him, bringing him back to reality. His friend was looking at him with a clear question in his eyes and badly veiled excitement - Nico knew he would want to hear everything about his conversation with Percy later. 

“Yeah, right”, he replied, half relieved and half disappointed that the moment was over.

He turned to Percy. He couldn't read the expression in his eyes. “Well, I have to go”, he said.

Percy nodded. The soft smile was back on his face, and Nico felt his heart melt at the sight. “It was nice talking to you Nico”.

“You too. Have a nice day, Percy”.

It was the first time he called him directly by his name, he realized. It sounded way too nice ok his tongue.

He kept staring at his retreating figure as he walked away, feeling unstable on his feet like someone had suddenly changed the gravity on Earth.

“You okay?”, Jason asked.

“Uhm… I think so? I'm not sure what just happened”.

Jason laughed and put a hand on his shoulder in comfort.

“You can tell me everything later, alright? Come to my and Leo's place after work”.

Nico grimaced at the prospect - he could already feel the teasing that would come of it. But he did need to talk about it, so he nodded.“Yeah, alright”, he agreed. “But I really need a smoke now”.

[agentplutonium]

Been in a weird writing funk for a few months now so I thought I'd try to write something small for y'all here. Of course, it is Milo/Sweetheart. Of course it is a comfort fic. This seems to be the theme when I am not in the best of spirits. Anyway, writing below the cut!!

"Sweets! I'm home!" Milo called as soon as he was in the door. The house was dark, something he noticed when he pulled into their driveway. The text that Milo sent to Sweetheart saying he was on his way home went ignored, which was unusual. The house was quiet too, which was also unusual.

Well, almost quiet, as the meows of Aggro started coming through the house as the cat made his way to Milo. Aggro found him as he was just putting his keys and wallet down, rubbing up against his legs and meowing up at him. He seemed a bit stressed more than usual, which worried him.

"Hi buddy," Milo said, a small smile on his face, bending down to pet him. "Where's Sweetheart?"

The cat blinked up at him for a second before taking off down the hallway. Milo followed without hesitation, worry creasing his brows. He knew that nothing bad had happened, but he still couldn't help but worry. They had bailed on the plans with the pack tonight because something came up at work again. They had been going nonstop for weeks at this point, early mornings leading to late evenings. It wasn't good for them, Milo could say that much. The tension that they carried in their body the last little bit was not fun to watch, or the growing dark circles under their eyes. Milo wished he could stop time every time he heard Sweetheart's alarm go off and they begrudgingly dragged themselves out of bed. Just to give them a few more moments of rest that he knew they deserved.

When Milo got to the bedroom, Aggro was staring at the closed door in front of him. Odd. Normally Sweetheart would leave it open enough for Aggro to come and go freely.

"Is this what had you so worried?" Milo asked him, to which he got a meow in response. Milo knocked gently on the door, ear pressed close to hear if they were in there. He didn't hear anything. A frown edged his lips. "Sweetheart? You in here?"

When he didn't get a response, he opened the door and stepped inside, eyes adjusting to the dark fast and spotting a figure curled up in the bed. Aggro bolted under his feet and was on the bed in a split second. The figure on the bed stirred a bit as Aggro sniffed around before settling beside them.

As Milo turned on the bedside lamp, he realized that Sweetheart had fallen asleep still in their work clothes. He sighed, glad that they were okay and unharmed. He brushed some hair out of their face, hand trailing down their cheek afterwards. Sweetheart stirred a bit more, eyes blinking open at the touch.

"Well hello there," Milo said, a small giggle breaking out from under his breath. He still was rubbing gentle circles into their cheek.

"What time..." Sweetheart slurred, reaching for their phone that was haphazardly placed beside them. If Milo had to guess, they were likely on it before falling asleep, and it dropped when they were finally out. It wouldn't be the first time.

"Just after ten," Milo answered them when they frowned at their now dead phone. "Just got home."

"Sorry," Sweetheart muttered, rubbing their eyes.

"Don't apologize," Milo said, fondness dripping from his words. "But, I tell you what. Why don't you finally get out of these clothes and put on some pyjamas? It might be a bit more comfortable."

Sweetheart nodded, sitting up with the guidance of Milo's hands, a yawn spiling from their lips.

"Stay here," Milo whispered to them, crossing the room to the dresser, rooting around for a pair of pyjamas.

"You don't have to--" Sweetheart started.

"I want to, though," Milo cut them off, already walking back. "I'm still wondering how you were able to fall asleep like this," he said jokingly, placing the pyjamas beside them and plucking off their glasses.

"Was tired after work, and it was, like, 7 PM by the time I got home. I had already eaten so I was just gonna lay down for a little bit. Looks like I ended up falling asleep," Sweetheart explained.

"It must have been a long day," Milo commented, reaching for their wrist so that he could take off their watch. He kissed along their knuckles when he was done, and he just caught the small smile that graced their lips at the motion.

"Something like that," Sweetheart sighed.

He turned to place the items on the bedside table as Sweetheart started to change. When that was done, he reached for their phone to plug it in, already setting the alarms that they set every night in the process. It was quiet in the room, but Milo didn't mind that. As long as he could feel Sweetheart's aura pulsing from them in time with their core, that was all he needed. Not to mention Sweetheart was still half asleep, there probably wasn't anything that they wanted to talk about.

"Are you hungry?" Milo asked after he finished his tasks, pressing a kiss into Sweetheart's shoulder. "When was the last time you ate?"

"At six," Sweetheart said. "Supper was bought for us when we had to stay behind. It was very nice actually. Though..."

"You want a small snack don't you?" Milo teased, already moving back toward the kitchen. "The usual?"

"Please," Sweetheart said. There was a pause before Milo heard their feet come padding behind him. "I love you," They added from behind him.

"I love you too," Milo said, hand instinctively reaching behind him. Sweetheart's fingers intertwined with them in a heartbeat, making Milo's chest fill with warmth. "Some would even say I love you more."

"Impossible," Sweetheart said, chuckling.

In the kitchen, Sweetheart didn't break away from him until he handed them their smoothie drink from the fridge. Milo grabbed the last of the strawberries from the fridge, and grabbed a bowl and a knife, before settling beside where they sat on the counter.

"How was the party?" Sweetheart asked. "Did you have fun?"

"Not as much fun as I would've if you were there," Milo said sincerely. He loves his pack, of course he does, but he also loves showing off for Sweetheart who loves his antics. Secretly.

"Oh, stop," Sweetheart said, but even when they took a sip of their drink they weren't able to hide their smile.

"And the pack missed you," Milo added. "Got asked where you were at least every few minutes for the first, like, half hour."

"They missed me that much?"

"You've barely been around for three weeks at this point, Sweets, of course they have," Milo said. "They love you."

Sweetheart didn't answer, but Milo could sense that they were glowing without even looking at them. When he did glance at them, he was caught by their beauty again. Even like this, with their hair a mess, cheeks red with sleep, and the last remaining lines fading from their skin. God, was he ever lucky to have them.

When Sweetheart realized what he was doing, they groaned, pushing his face away from them. "Stop it."

"Stop what?" Milo asked, chuckling.

"Looking at me like that!"

"Like you're the only person in the whole world?" Milo asked.

Sweetheart didn't answer, just grumbled something, much to Milo's amusement. "Just focus on the strawberries before you cut your finger off."

"Please," Milo said, "I could do this in my sleep."

"I'm not rushing you to the hospitable if you hurt yourself," Sweetheart said.

"Sure," Milo said. "The love of my life, my mate, wouldn't bat an eye if I accidentally cut myself."

"I wouldn't," Sweetheart said.

"Which is totally reasonable," Milo said, "especially after I've been terrorizing you with my lov--ow!"

Milo dropped the knife, clutching his right thumb with his other hand. Sweetheart immediately reacted, placing their drink down and grabbing for his hand.

"What did I tell you! Here, let me see," They chided, brows creasing together as they pried his fingers away from his thumb to see--nothing. Sweetheart stared at his thumb for a few moments, blinking, before they groaned again. "You jerk!" They said, lightly pushing him away. "I was worried about you!"

"So you do worry when I hurt myself," Milo teased.

"You're evil," Sweetheart grumbled, crossing their arms.

Milo hummed, scootching over so that he could settle between their legs, a hand automatically settling on their thigh. "You love me," he said, his other hand coming up to cup the back of their neck and pull them in for a kiss. For someone who thought he was evil, they sure did respond to his touch, melting into him the second their lips touched.

"Evil," they muttered against his lips, though with considerably no force behind it.

"Will this make up for it?" Milo asked after he pulled away, reaching for the bowl beside them and presenting it.

"Maybe," Sweetheart said. They accepted the offered bowl.

"Dork," Milo muttered fondly, stealing a strawberry half. Sweetheart didn't respond, just wrinkling their nose at him. "Do you have the weekend off?"

Sweetheart nodded. "Finally."

"Perfect," Milo said, smiling.

"I swear to God if you say 'like you'--"

"Like you," Milo said, chuckling when Sweetheart lightly smacked his chest. "Eat, so we can go to bed."

--END--

[anxiousnerdwritings]

Do you remember that ask about platonic yandere siblings Loki & Thor with a sibling who lives on Midgard? Can I request sibling!reader inviting their two brothers for Chrismas the Midgardian style? I would imagine Thor being super excited but totally clueless about the whole thing and Loki only showing up because of their sibling and other then that not wanting any part of it lmao

Yan!Brother!Thor and Yan!Brother!Loki Spending Christmas on Midgard w/Sibling!Reader Headcanons (platonic)

When their beloved sibling decided to make Midgard their new home, taking up permanent residence and choosing to live a day to day life similar to any other Midgardian in complete contrast to their godly title back home on Asgard, Thor and Loki we’re devastated. Their sibling was leaving. They were leaving their parents behind. They were leaving Asgard, the only home they’ve ever known, behind. But most importantly they were leaving Thor and Loki behind.

Out of the two, Thor was the quickest to accept you leaving. Of course it helped with you telling him he and Loki can visit whenever and are always welcomed at your new home, as well as promising that you’ll visit once in a while. Not to mention Frigga did her best to ease both Thor’s and Loki’s distress over the new change. As much as Thor still didn’t like the whole thing he was more tolerable of it now. But Loki was a different case.

Loki absolutely detested your moving to Midgard and abandoning your family, abandoning him. His dislike for Midgard and the Midgardians that inhabit it was already pretty bad but now it’s pure unabashed hatred for the place and people that took his beloved sibling away from him. He is somewhat happy that you said he was welcomed to your new home whenever but it doesn’t fix anything for him whatsoever. You shouldn’t need a ‘new home’ not when you already had one to begin with. To say he’s salty is an understatement, Loki is extremely sulky and resentful of the entire thing altogether and nothing could make him come around to it. The only thing that would make him truly happy is having you back home where you belong.

Also, when Loki first learns about you leaving to Midgard he wholeheartedly believes you’re leaving because of him and his ‘God of Mischief’ antics. There would no doubt be a moment of him bursting into your bedchambers on Asgard, a sobbing and inconsolable mess begging you to stay, that he’ll be good from now on if it means you won’t leave him. He doesn’t care how weak or pathetic he looks and sounds, you’re the only one he ever felt he could allow himself to be this way with because he knew you wouldn’t judge him and you sure as hell wouldn’t tell a soul about it. Even if you did find him pathetic yourself, you at least didn’t utter a word regarding it.

It takes a lot of getting use to now that they don’t have you around. They both miss talking with you, laughing with you, running around and playing games with you (even if all of you were too old for playing games, it was still very much a part of your lives). Thor is a sulking mess, not nearly as boisterous and shining as he was before. Loki doesn’t even feel like playing tricks on any one, let alone Thor and keeps to himself more than ever, barely leaving his own bedchambers unless Frigga comes to drag him out herself.

Speaking of Frigga, she is very much the glue that keeps both Thor and Loki from letting their despair swallow them whole. She assures them that you are doing well, that you are safe and happy but it doesn’t change their moods too much. It does ease them some but it also leads them to miss you all the more. They wish you were safe and happy with them here on Asgard. No matter how frustrating and unwilling either are to pull themselves out of their funk, Frigga never ceases to do what she can to keep them from dwelling too long in the dark.

It’s slow and little by little but eventually Thor is getting back to his usual self and Loki is getting back to his old mischievous habits, albeit they’re a tad bit more cruel but it’s something. It isn’t until Odin announces that you’ll be making a visit to Asgard that they both perk up more than ever since you’ve been gone. Neither can conceal their excitement at being able to see, talk, and touch you. Just being able to be in your presence again has both Thor and Loki ecstatic.

When you’re finally there in the flesh with them again it’s the reunion that all of Asgard had been waiting for with bated breath. Thor can’t help himself and immediately engulfs his precious sibling in a bone crushing hug but they happily accept it having missed him and his infamous hugs. It feels like forever before he’s made to let go courtesy of Loki wanting to finally greet his beloved sibling after being a part for so long. He envelopes you in a hug too, not nearly like Thor’s but it’s still a tight hold. He keeps it more under wraps than Thor had but just wait until there’s no one else around and he’ll be latched on to you like a second skin.

It feels so good to have the three of you together again. Frigga and Odin can’t help but admire the wholesome sight before them. Their little family was back together again and it felt so right.

During their sibling’s entire visit, Thor and Loki are attached to either side of them the whole time. Neither of them step away for any reason and everyone around knows better then to try and pull them away. If someone were to be idiotic enough to try, Thor and Loki put them in their place without hesitation. Nothing is keeping them from missing out on getting to be with their precious sibling again after what’s felt like an eternity without them.

It isn’t until the very last day of their visit, maybe even right before they’re about to leave, that they invite both Thor and Loki to spend what the Midgardians call “Christmas” with them at their new home. Neither Thor or Loki are sure about what this “Christmas” is but the way their eyes lit up and the smile that spread across their lips showed just how much this “Chsirtmas” thing was to them. And who were both Thor and Loki to refuse an invitation to spend even more time with their beloved sibling. Even if Loki could careless about Midgard and the Midgardians, he wouldn’t miss out on this if it meant so much to his sibling.

Thor and Loki would show up a few days in advance before actual Christmas Day just to spend some more time with you and get a feel for what this whole “Christmas” thing was exactly. Thor is excited to not only get to see and be with you but also to take in everything. He may as well be jumping up like a toddler hyped up on sugar. Meanwhile, Loki couldn’t be more uncomfortable and disgusted from what he’s seen so far of Midgard. This was the place you left them and Asgard for? It doesn’t look like much at all, let alone something worth your time.

Once they are at your home and in your company they are greeted to bright lights, an array of odd decor, and a tree heavily decorated from stump to treetop with various shiny and dangling things as well as more lights and some sparkly stuff called ‘garland’. It really is a sight to behold never having seen it before and it certainly appears that you went all out for it. Thor is absolutely captivated by everything he sees and he wants to touch it all but the first ornament he reaches out for breaks within seconds. Meanwhile, as taken aback as Loki is he still isn’t too fazed by it. Honestly you could have all of this and more back home on Asgard. He doesn’t really care about the bright lights, or shiny decorations, or even the stupid ridiculous tree (he of course wouldn’t tell you that). All he wants is to spend time with you and convince you to come home.

After they get all settled you tell them all about what Christmas means to Midgardians and the traditions they follow in regards to it. Thor is all ears, completely captivated by each and every word you say explaining everything. Meanwhile, Loki is also listening intently but he’s much more subtle about it. He still doesn’t get it but if you’re so invested in it then he’ll be along for the ride he supposes.

You tell them all about the foods and deserts they make to eat on the special day, the songs they sing, the cartoons and shows they watch, and last but not least the gift giving that takes place. Everything so far has had both of their attention but that last one about gifts is what really gets them. They didn’t bring you any gifts. They hadn’t thought about it. You didn’t say anything about gifts. Okay, now they’re both inwardly panicking cause they’ve come empty handed. Loki could of course use his magic to give you something but Thor is at a loss. He may even pester Loki into conjuring something up for Thor to give you. But they have a few days to come up with something, right? That’s plenty of time!

The days leading up to Christmas are spent showing both Thor and Loki around Midgard and to your favorite places. You make the point to tell them that around this time of year things get much more hectic then they usually are but you don’t mind too much, if anything you like watching the hustle and bustle. But both Thor and Loki look and feel so out of place, they’re grateful they have you to guide them but they feel completely out of their element, especially Loki.

Christmas Eve is when you spend the whole day prepping for the Christmas Day feats you have planned and what feast it’ll be with Thor there. Both Thor and Loki help where they can with what they can but Loki is the one who ends up doing the better job out of the two only because Thor either ends up breaking something or burning something but he’s content doing whatever as long as he’s involved. Although inevitably the two make a contest out of whatever it is they’re doing, especially if it’s the same task.

Both Thor and Loki are appreciative and happy when you add some Asgardian traditions to the mix, whether with some of the foods and goodies you make or maybe even in some of the home decor they hadn’t noticed before. They’re both very relieved that you haven’t completely cut Asgard out of your life and you have things that remind you of them and your old home.

When it comes time to bake cookies and decorate them, Thor can’t wait. He’s making all different shapes and sizes, decorating them all over the place that by the end of it he’s covered in an array of icing, sprinkles and probably some odd bits of cookie dough. Loki somehow manages to stay clean and pristine through the whole process, not only that but all his cookies are immaculate and even. It may result in a bit of quarrel between the two but you’re able to calm them down.

If you were to wipe some icing on or sprinkle some sprinkles on Loki then he’d just accept it but there will be retaliation and he’ll do the same thing to you. Of course Thor gets involved and by the end of it all of you are more decorated with icing and sprinkles then the actual cookies are.

When met the aspect of wearing matching pajamas or sweaters, Thor is absolutely all for it. Loki takes a bit to come around to putting either on and when he does he does so begrudgingly but really he actually likes it. Especially since you picked them out. If you were to have made the pajama or sweaters yourself then both Thor and Loki would treat them like the most precious and fragile things in existence. They would be so careful wearing them, doing their absolute best to keep them in good condition.

If their sibling were to have gone out of their way to get a small Christmas tree and a few little decorations to put on it so that Thor and Loki could experience decorating a tree alongside their sibling would make them both melt. Thor does his damndest to be gentle and gingerly when putting anything on the tree. He doesn’t want to ruin it and in turn ruin the moment they’re all sharing together. Loki acts like this whole thing isn’t a big deal but deep down it is. Their sibling had already excitedly and impulsively decorated their home and the tree before Thor and himself got there but still wanted to share this part of the tradition with them.

It would really make Loki feel nice and warm inside that they went out and did that for him and Thor. He was working his way to warming up to this whole Christmas thing. But what would make it even better was if it was on Asgard, where the three of you, Frigga and maybe Odin could all be doing this and celebrating together like a family if only you’d come back home. To your real home, leaving this pretend one behind.

When Christmas Day is finally here, your excitement for the day is enough to get Thor and Loki in the spirit. Thor is very much more open and outwardly showing his fondness for it while. While even though Loki is willing to participate and go along with it he still isn’t nearly as fond of the whole aspect as you and Thor are. But seeing you glowing with joy would keep him biting his tongue and going with whatever.

Now when you hand them their gifts that you’ve been desperately trying to keep as much of a surprise as possible both Thor and Loki are excited and anxious to see what you’ve gotten them, especially since they’re pretty sure it’s Midgardian related. No matter what it is they both would absolutely cherish it to no end. Even Loki who could careless about Midgard and everything to do with it because it took you away from him would be utterly infatuated with what you gifted him. As long as it’s from you and the fact that you looked so worried about how either of them would react to their gifts, in particular keeping more of a close eye on him and his reaction specifically, that it automatically makes his gift the best thing he’s ever received from anyone.

Thor is also extremely elated with his gift. You may have to tell him what it is or how it works but he loves it nonetheless and it will become his most prized possession. As would Loki’s gift becoming Loki’s very own prized possession that he would keep in the safest place where only he could have access to it.

After that it’s time for your gifts. Both Thor and Loki take out the gifts they had very quickly and sloppily put together for you. Thor’s wrapping was of course messy and scrunched up but it was obvious he had tried his very best. Meanwhile, of course Loki’s wrapping was immaculate probably having used his magic to do it for him but still it was lovely all the same. Handing the gifts off to you, Thor and Loki sit back anxiously awaiting your own reaction similar to how you had been earlier. They doth wait with bated breath hoping that you love what they rushed to put together for you.

They both got you something to remind you of not only them but also Asgard as a whole. They had even gone back to Asgard at some point and gotten Frigga to add her own gifts into the mix as well as Heimdall and a few others. As much as Thor wanted you to come back home he also realized just how truly happy you seemed during your visit when talking about Midgard and your adventures there. Asgard would always be there for you but while you were making a home on Midgard you may as well be surrounded but things to remind of your original home and the family that was there waiting for you.

Loki wants you to come back home no matter what and he would be the one to drag you back. But having talked again with mother and hearing her explain things he supposed he could wait for a bit before trying to enact any attempts at being you home. He also gifted you something that would remind you of him and of him so you’d never forget about what was there for you when you were finally over this Midgardian phase. It would be something you could always wear; a ring, necklace, bracelet/cuff, a hair piece, broach, etc. But it wouldn’t be any ordinary piece, it would be fitted with the most valuable and beautiful jewel or jewels found in all of the nine realms. Not to mention Loki has definitely used his magic to do something to it to keep you and him connected without you knowing about it. Whether it’s to keep track of you and wherever you may be, or it’s had a protective spell cast on it to keep you safe, or maybe it allows him to hear and feel your heartbeat so he can feel closer to you while being so far apart.

Both Thor and Loki would freak out if their sibling were burst into tears at the gifts they got them and the people from Asgard they brought into it. The homesickness would really kick in after all of that. Thor and Loki would both rush to comfort their sibling and calm them down. If their sibling were to make some wholesome comment about family being the best gift of all or something like that it would have Thor smiling like an idiot and Loki smiling softly at them.

The rest of the day would be filled with fun and laughter. Thor would of course have to tell you about how much difficulty Loki had trying to wrap his gift for you and very loudly might I had. It would be even funnier if Loki’s perfect and pristine gift was actually wrapped by Thor while Thor’s scrunched up and messily wrapped gift was Loki’s actual wrapping job. Loki would be utterly ashamed that Thor threw him under the bus like that but he would get him back later. Probably with a snowball to the face cause of course there has to be a snowball fight. And making snow angels but that’ll be saved for after the carnage that takes place when the snowball fight starts up.

[lilypadlys]

In Your Arms

Dew is having a hard time on tour. Between being homesick, missing Aether, and having nightmares, he's at the end of his rope and snapping at everyone. He really needs some gentle love but who do you turn to when you've pushed everyone away?

Ship: Dew/Swiss, bit of Dew/Aether

Word Count: 1550

Rating: Teen (for mild language)

Tags: SFW, fluff, hurt/comfort, cuddles

Below the cut or on AO3

The tour is nearing its end. Everything has been going mostly smoothly. The new summons Aurora and Phantom have integrated seamlessly. No major injuries have been sustained. Only some venue issues and inclement weather stood in the way of it being a flawless run and those were out of their control.

Still, Dew feels on edge. He’s tired. Being away from the ministry, constantly on the move, and missing Aether and Sunny, as well as a million other discomforts are all taking their toll. He hasn’t slept soundly in ages, sleep plagued with nightmares.

He’s been extremely snappy at everyone. He manages to pull himself together for the shows. Falling into his role, taking out his frustrations on his guitar strings. Off stage though, he can’t find an outlet. The smallest thing sets him off.

He hates himself for it. Cumulus didn’t deserve the hisses he spewed at her when she tried to lay a comforting hand on his shoulder. Poor Phantom looked ready to cry when Dew told him to fuck off when he asked if they wanted to room together at the hotel last night. Aurora and Rain have been avoiding him entirely, afraid of invoking his wrath. Cirrus and Mountain shoot him glares on the regular in response to his snarky asides. Swiss is the only one still willing to deal with him and even the multi ghoul’s patience has its limits.

When they get settled in the hotel for the night, Swiss just wordlessly hauls the grumpy fire ghoul into their room before he can start a fresh argument in the hotel lobby. Swiss has given up trying to help. He sighs tiredly as Dew chucks his overnight bag to the floor, causing a loud thump. Dew flops on his bed and turns his back to Swiss with a growl. Swiss just shakes his head, exhaling through his nose, and disappears into the bathroom to shower. Dew is left to glower in solitude.

When the bathroom door clicks shut, Dew huffs and rolls onto his back. He doesn’t know what to do. How to get out of this funk. He knows the other’s are trying to help but he can’t lower his guard long enough to let them. Aether could fix this. He thinks. Aether always knew what to do to get Dew to chill. Be it forcing him into a cuddle pile, fucking him senseless, or even just letting Dew rage. Aether’s patience seemed neverending. No matter how long he was out of it, how many nasty things Dew said, Aether always forgave him.

As if on cue, Dew hears his phone buzz. He wrestles it out of his pocket and glances at the screen. Aether.

“Hey Firelily.” The text reads.

“Hey Aeth.”

“How’re you holding up?”

Dew snorts. “What do you think? I’m sure Mount already blabbed to you.” Dew instantly regrets it as soon as he hits send. Why is he like this? Here’s Aether, checking on him, obviously concerned about him, and all he can do is be a bitch.

“Yes, Mountain told me you weren’t feeling well. Is it the nightmares again?”

Dew is once again amazed at Aether’s uncanny ability to always find the root of the problem.

“Yeah.”

“I’m sorry Spark. I wish I could be there to help.”

But you’re not, is all Dew can think. He knows it’s not Aether’s fault. He’d be here if he could. But he’s not.

Even though he holds back from typing it, Aether seems to know what he’s thinking anyway.

“You’ll be back home soon and then I’ll help in whatever way I can.” Aether promises.

“Thanks.”

Dew makes to toss his phone to the nightstand when it buzzes again.

“The others care about you too. They just want to help.”

Dew wants to make some jerky comment but he can’t. He squeezes his eyes shut to hold back the tears that have begun to form.

“Yeah.”

“I know it’s hard but you’ve got to open up. They can’t help if you don’t let them.”

Dew sits in silence with that. He knows it. Truly he knows that everyone in the pack loves him and cares about him, and that they want to help. And yet all he’s done is push them away.

“Sweet dreams Dew.”

Dew does start to cry then. He so desperately needs a hug. Needs someone to wrap their arms around him and tell him everything will be alright. That they don’t hate him despite how horrible he’s been. Needs someone to hold him as he falls asleep and to protect him from the nightmares and nasty thoughts that plague his brain whenever he tries to relax. He curls up into a ball, tail wrapped around himself, as he sobs into the sheets.

He doesn’t hear as Swiss quietly opens the bathroom door, despite the water never running. He doesn’t see him round the corner. Swiss’ gentle touch on his back startles him and flinches; hissing and baring teeth. Dew watches in horror as Swiss’ expression goes from gentle concern, to hurt, to angry exasperation. Swiss grits his teeth and withdraws his hand. “Sorry.” He mutters as he turns away.

“Wait.” Dew forces the word out.

Swiss turns back, brow raised; unimpressed.

“I-I’m sorry.” Dew uncurls himself and sits up as fresh tears well in his eyes. “I’m sorry. Please don’t leave.”

Swiss’ expression softens. He sits on the edge of the bed, giving Dew his space, and waits.

Dew trembles as he forces the words out between sobs. “I’m sorry for being such a jerk. You guys were just trying to help.”

“Yeah, you’ve really been a shit recently.” Swiss agrees, teasingly rather than meanly.

Dew shrinks. “I’m sorry. Please don’t hate me.”

“Oh baby.” Swiss scoots a little closer. “We don’t hate you. Why do you think we haven’t thrown you off the tour bus yet?”

“But I probably deserve it at this point.” He whimpers.

“Nah, not quite.”

“Great, another thing I can’t do right.” Dew huffs and rolls his eyes but there’s no malice in it. Instead he just sounds disappointed in himself.

“Stop that. You can do plenty of things right.”

“Uh huh.” Dew frowns, unconvinced.

“Well first of all, you're the best lead guitarist I know.”

“That’s mean to Ifrit. And Alpha.”

“I don’t care. You’re better.” Dew gives him a look but Swiss continues. “You also make amazing pancakes.”

“That’s like the only thing I can do in the kitchen.”

“So? I love pancakes.”

Dew’s sobs have slowed to the occasional sniffle and a smile is threatening to break out so Swiss keeps going.

“And let's see. You’re pretty too. That doesn’t hurt.”

Dew makes a pouty face but Swiss interrupts before he can protest.

“You are. And I have excellent taste so you know it’s true.”

That does it and the corners of Dew’s lips are quivering upwards. He ducks his head in an attempt to hide.

“In fact, the only thing I can think of that you’re bad at is getting us to hate you.” Swiss closes the distance and nuzzles Dew’s head. “We love you, you little idiot. Don’t forget it, okay?” He purrs in Dew’s ear.

Rather than pull away, Dew leans into Swiss and rewards him for his efforts with a low purr of his own.

“Thanks Swiss.” Dew mumbles shyly.

“Of course Droplet.”

Dew suddenly looks up. “I need to apologize to the others.”

“That you do, but it can wait until the morning. Right now you need sleep.”

“But-”

“No buts. Go shower and change into comfy clothes. I showered back at the venue so I’ll get a nest set up.”

Dew does as he’s told and gets up. He shucks his boots and clothes on his way to the bathroom. The hot water does wonders, washing away sweat and his bad mood alike. He feels infinitely better as he towels off and slips into clean sweats. When he steps out of the bathroom, he finds a blanket nest on the bed as promised, Swiss ensconced in the middle.

“C’mere.” Swiss beckons and Dew hops on the bed and curls up next to him, his back to the multi ghoul’s chest. Swiss pulls a blanket over the two of them and starts to run his claws through Dew’s golden mane.

Once he gets all the tangles out, he starts to braid, humming softly. Dew can’t help but be reminded of Aether. The quintessence ghoul used to do this as well. He figures Aether probably told Swiss how to help and normally Dew would be angry. It’s something special and private. Aether is typically the only one Dew can truly open up with, and be this vulnerable around. But now, he finds he doesn’t mind. He lets himself relax for once as Swiss hums and whispers praise and affirmations.

Dew doesn’t know at what point he drifts off, just that for the first time in a while he’s slept peacefully. Nightmare free.

As soon as he sees the others at breakfast he apologizes. Despite his fears, they all forgive him immediately and he finds himself in the middle of a group hug. He doesn’t even feign dislike, and just lets himself enjoy being held. In their arms he feels warm, and safe, and loved.

[bouncybongfairy]

Woodstock 1999

Rick Sanchez x Fem Reader

Summary: After attending a house party, thrown by your friend Summer, you end up meeting Rick. While making small talk, you tell him about the Woodstock 99' documentary that you had just seen and that you wish you could have seen Korn from that festival. Rick is confident that you wouldn’t be able to handle yourself in a crowd like that. When you disagree, Rick tries to call your bluff. By taking you to an alternative reality where Woodstock 99 is taking place.

Word Count: 3k+

<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3

You were sweeping the floors, finishing up your shift at the grocery store you worked at. It was Thursday and the store had been relatively quiet for most of the night. Only a couple more customers were wandering the isles, picking up last-minute items.. You were pretty tired, this started as a summer job but you ended up keeping it throughout the school year. It was nice to have extra money for clothes and outings with your friends, it almost made up for how depleting work was. You heard the assistance bell ring from the register, which prompts you to run over. You were pleasantly surprised to see Summer and her mom, you share most of your classes with the redhead. She has actually spent the night at your house a couple of times and vice-versa. You give her a quick mom and start scanning her items. Her mom was going on and on about how all the bottles of wine were for a family event, you looked over at Summer who was rolling her eyes. You held back a chuckle and continued to make polite conversation with Beth. After you bagged their groceries, Beth walked back to the car but Summer stayed back to talk. 

“So obviously the family event thing was a lie but I am throwing a party tomorrow while my parents are doing this couple retreat thing. You should totally come,” Summer said. 

“Yeah that sounds really fun, did you already invite half the school?” you joked while wiping down the counter. 

“A lot of people are coming, yeah, but it’ll still be fun,” she said. 

“Yeah for sure, do you want me to bring anything?” you asked. 

“Just your hot ass and maybe a bottle would be cool. My mom is calling. I got to go but I’ll see you tomorrow,” she said while walking away. 

Normally a house party isn’t really your scene but you were feeling kinda excited. For the past two months, you’ve been in a bit of a funk. Only going to school and work, not feeling up to doing your make-up most days, and dressing pretty bummy. You felt like a good party would break you out of that. Summer and you had a lot of mutual friends so you knew you would have company no matter what. You checked out the last customer and locked the door behind them. You grabbed some stuff for your lunch tomorrow and two bottles of Red Berry Ciroc. The store was owned by an older gentleman who sadly had dementia, his 29-year-old son now runs the store. As long as you gave him an extra ten for each bottle you bought he would look the other way when it came to age. You took an Uber home and immediately got in the shower. Scrubbing all the sweat off your body and lathering your hair in shampoo as Molly Kate Kestne’s Prom Queen blasted through a speaker. You stayed in the hot water until you felt at risk of passing out. You give your mom a kiss on the cheek, wishing her a good night before going to your bedroom. After turning on Jersey Shore as background noise, you fall asleep in your towel; completely worn out by your school and work week. 

When you woke up, you were surprised that you slept through the night considering you didn’t get too comfortable before falling asleep. You were feeling extremely well-rested, it wasn’t until you were halfway done with your hair that you remembered about Summer’s party. You were super excited, you had this Saturday off which meant you didn’t have to worry about having a hangover. You throw on a pair of jeans and a sweatshirt and start gathering things into your book bag. Once you got to school, you couldn’t stop counting down the hours until you could leave. It felt like years had gone by once it was finally time for lunch. You were sitting with a group of friends who were all talking about Summer’s party. Maybe it’s because you have a job but your friends seem a lot less mature over these past couple of months. It seemed like if it wasn’t posted or extremely extra then it didn’t happen. I don’t know, it just felt like they did everything for shock value or clout. You thought it was weird how upset they would get if they didn’t look good in a video of them taking a shot or not taking a picture with the blunt before it was smoked. Sometimes you wish you could record how they act during those times and show them later. You pick at your salad, tuning out of their conversation until the bell rings. 

Once the last period ended you bolted out of the front doors and made your way home. You flat ironed your hair and started applying a bit of makeup. Rummaging through your closet, you ended up wearing a tube top and a pair of baggy cargo jeans. You grabbed one of the biggest purses you could find grabbed a tee-shirt and wrapped the two vodka bottles in a way that avoids any clanking sound. Your pen, make-up bag, charger, and a couple of other items. You end up walking to Summer’s house seeing that it’s only a 20-minute walk. When you got there, the sun was just barely setting and teenagers were flocking to the house. The house was practically shaking due to how loud the music was. When you walked in you practically had to wave a cloud out of your face. Summer immediately noticed you when you walked in and came over to greet you. 

“Hey! Oh my gosh, I’m so glad you came!” Summer said. 

“Yeah me too, I needed this really bad. Also.. here are those bottles,” you said, taking the vodka out of your purse. 

“Wow, I didn’t think you were gonna bring anything. I’m gonna chill these,” she said, grabbing the bottles and leading you into the kitchen. When you walked in Rick was leaning against the countertop. She shoved the bottles deep into the freezer, in hopes of speeding up the process.

“If you can’t drink -burp- the liquor at room temperature you’re probably not mature enough to be drinking at all,” Rick said, taking a swig from his flask. 

“What if we just prefer it chilled? Just because you can doesn’t mean you shouldn’t” you point out. 

“Yeah, Grandpa and after I smoke I don’t like the way hot ass liquor feels on my throat,” Summer said, closing the fridge door. 

“Doesn’t matter whether your liquor is cold or hot, your party is gonna suck since you put a ban on any of my friends coming. Seems a little like bigotry in my opinion,” Rick said. 

Summer ignored him and led you to her bedroom where a girl from your school Tricia Lange was packing a bowl. You asked Summer if it was okay to leave the party unattended. She joked ‘That’s what Morty is for’ which made you and Tricia laugh. She offered you greens which flattered you, after cornering the bowl you handed it to Summer. Coming off a two-week tolerance break, the weed was hitting you fast and hard. You tilted your head up and blew the smoke up into the air. Tricia complimented you on how pretty you looked which made you blush because.. hello its Tricia Lange, one of the hottest girls in your grade. You guys were making small talk when Summer pulled out a pink crystal and started crushing it into a fine powder. 

“What is that?” you asked. 

“It’s a Kalaxian crystal, it’s pretty mild like snorting molly kinda,” Summer said, lining up the power. 

“I.. don’t know about that,” you said looking at the powder suspiciously. 

“Oh, you don’t have to worry about it showing up on a drug test or anything. It’s not detectable with Earth’s drug tests,” Tricia said, setting her hand on your shoulder. 

“No, well that’s good to know actually but imma need to see you take a bump before I do,” you said. 

“You humor me,” Summer said, using a hundred-dollar bill to snort the powder, her eyes turning a baby blue.

Summer passed the tray to Tricia who mimicked her action. Your heart was racing as her manicured hands passed the tray over to you. Not wanting to come off as a prude, you took the rolled-up bill into your hand and brought it up to your nose. You sniffed the powder into your nose and coughed a little because the taste was so foreign. The two girls lead you downstairs where the party is now packed and a bit unhinged. Couples making out against any available wall space they could find, groups of people who were surrounding a person smoking out of a gravity bong. Drugs by Lil Aaron was blaring out of several speakers, drowning out almost every other sound. The three of you were dancing together in the living room with several of your peers. You were feeling so euphoric and magical; like you could float off the ground if you really tried. It was then that Summer reminded you of the Ciroc bottles that were in the freezer. All three of you took a shot and cringed as it went down. Summer and Tricia left to go to the bathroom leaving you in the kitchen. You were pretty intoxicated at this point and started to wander. You end up in the garage, where Rick is sitting at his workstation. 

“Out!” he barked which caused you to jump and gasp due to how loud and aggressive he sounded, he didn’t even look up. 

“S-sorry I -which way..” you started but Rick got up and walked over to you. He grabbed your chin and tilted your head up. 

“I told Summer to stop giving K-Crystals to her little friends,” he said, seeing the effects from your eyes. You looked over a noticed he had a Woodstock 99’ ticket pinned onto his wall. 

“You -hiccup- went to Woodstock 99? You- you’re so lucky you got to see Korn from that crowd,” you slurred without breaking eye contact. He laughed and let go of your chin and walked back to his workstation. 

“Did you actually go?” you asked, walking over to him. 

“I thought I said to get out earlier,” he said. 

“I have selective hearing,” you said, picking up a screwdriver. 

“I’m lost, is that supposed to be my problem?” he said. 

“Well it -burp- if you really wanted it to be,” you giggled.

“Yeah as much of a catch as you are, I think I’ll pass,” he laughed.

“Oh please I bet I’d be the best pussy you’ve had in months,” you laugh but quickly change expressions as Rick stands up and towers over you. 

“Do you really think that you would be an unachievable fantasy to me? Like I’m some sad old stockbroker who has to rely on naivety to get laid? Don’t insult me,” Rick said, taking a sip of his flask without stepping away. 

“Your shirt -hiccup- looks so soft, imagine if we could have gone to Woodstock together. You’re so tall that I wouldn’t have to worry about guys reaching up and groping me and I would have the most amazing view of some of the coolest bands of all time,” you said, feeling your high slowly start to come down. He smirked at you before turning around locking the garage door and opening a portal, dragging you through it. 

“What- where are we going?” you asked confused, adjusting your eyes to the suddenly sunny skies. 

“To call your bluff. There’s no way you could last here, it was kinda a shit show if you didn’t know,” he said. 

“I know, I watched the documentary on Netflix,” you said very matter-of-factly. 

It took your eye a couple of minutes for them to adjust but once they did, you couldn’t deny you were a little taken back. There really was a lot of nudity and white-boy aggression. You hoped Rick didn’t notice, but every once in a while, you would look behind you to make sure he was nearby. The first thing you wanted to do was get to the airbrush body paint station. You wanted Korn written across your chest in black and pink. At this point, the high of the K-Crystals was completely worn off and all you wanted was a hit of something. It was then you realized you still had your purse, you blindly reached your hand in until you felt your hand hit the cold metal of the battery. Your mouth begins salivating as bring the cart to your lips and take a long drag, blowing it up in the air. You take a couple more drags and notice that the artist has stopped. When you looked down he was just looking up at you. He was probably in his early 30s and had a 90s haircut that was short and spiked with blonde tips.  Without breaking contact take another drag and exhale as you speak. 

“Sorry, did you want a hit?” you asked playfully, looking over at Rick who was smirking with his arms crossed, evaluating the situation. The guy airbrushing you looked up at Rick who started to speak. 

“You know you didn’t come across to me as one of those girls who have nipple piercings,” Rick said. 

“Yeah I know, they’re hot right?” you asked to adjust the one that didn’t have any paint on it yet; they were bars with a chain that supported a pink bedazzled saturn charm. 

“So uh, Maria is gonna finish up our piece cool?” he said, getting up before either of you could respond which caused both of you to chuckle. 

After you were finished up with the body painting tent you made your way to the main stage. Hundreds of teens and young adults were making their way to the exact same location. It was weird because even though you knew what was going to happen, you were still bubbling with anticipation. Rick laughed and mocked you because he knew you had seen exactly what happened and still bubbled with suspense and excitement. When you asked Rick if you could actually sit on his shoulders he didn’t say anything, only nodding in agreement. You were trying to pry about the first time he ever experienced this but he would always give you a bullshit excuse like he was too wasted to remember. As you walked, guys kept approaching you, trying hard to keep conversation. You tried to be polite and at least slow down as you respectfully deny their advance. You even stopped a couple of times but Rick would gently bump into you with his body from behind to keep you walking. Once you got into the crowd, Rick took the arm and pressed his body to your back. He started guiding and shaving his way through the front of the sea of people while having his arms raised, protecting you from the crowd. 

Normally if someone was being more polite it would have taken forever to make their way to the front. Rick however wasn’t sparing any feelings as he pushed and shoved. As you people watched, you couldn’t help but take in how different people were in the 90s. One of the biggest things that tripped you out was seeing how different the hair and make-up were of the girls around you. Super thin eyebrows, a thick eyeliner waterline with clumpy mascara. Your lashes were huge and your nails were so long, it felt like everyone was staring at you.  Most of the hair extensions were god-awful but you gave them a pass considering this was a festival. The cameras were so retro-looking and looked bulky on the crew’s shoulders. Rick pulled a plastic baggie of pink powder from his lab coat. You assumed these were the same crystals you smoked earlier so didn’t think twice when snorting your fair share. Only later to find out that it was actually Molly, normally you’d be freaking out but I mean… You were in an entirely different dimension. Seemed kinda late for that. Once the intro started, Rick bent down slightly allowing you to sit on his shoulders. You could feel the energy of the crowd growing. It was almost like your heartbeat was getting more intense as the music’s rhythm began picking up. 

A camera was coming closer to you, you blew it a kiss and then took a drag of your pen. It could have been because of the drugs but you felt like you were so high in the air, you could see the top of everyone’s head.; like you were a skyscraper. You were truly having the time of your life, it was nice being able to be carefree. Being able to get as wasted or naked as you wanted knowing you had someone to take care of you. You were gently running your fingers through his hair, tugging on it a little bit. You leaned down and whispered into the top of his head, 

“Thank you for taking me here, this is amazing,” you said. 

He didn’t reply, just ran his hands up and down your leg, starting at your knees and ending at your ankles. You were feeling accomplished that he didn’t get the chance to call your bluff as he put it. When Korn wasn’t playing you could barely hear yourself think over how loud the crowd was. You couldn’t tell if Rick was mad or just concentrating. After a while, you were getting overstimulated by everything going on around you. You asked Rick if you guys could head home, and he opens a portal directly underneath you guys, dropping the both of you back into a garage. You grab the extra tee shirt from your bag and throw it over your body. 

“Thanks, we should do it again sometime,” you said before exiting the garage to find summer.

[cantwritethetword]

A Good Distraction

Fic Descript: After what felt like a particularly poor performance training with your brothers, you're feeling pretty shitty. Luckily, your brothers know how to calm you down and get you back to your usual upbeat self.

~A/N  - Sorry this took a while ^^

Got a request for a spn fic:

(also I checked with them and they're ok for a gender neutral reader)

I know feelings on 'cheer-up tickles' often vary, but I feel like I've got a pretty solid way to make them work so that everyone can enjoy it

Hope it's what you were looking for ^^

- Enoy! ~

Tag List: @fullsongphilosopher

Masterpost Link 

For the most part, you absolutely lived for hunting with your brothers. It was your world, and you loved every moment of it.

But sometimes, that little voice of doubt would creep into your head and question whether you were really good enough to stand next to them.

This was one of those moments.

You were making your way down the halls of the bunker, having just finished a training session - covering the whole range of strength, cardio, accuracy, and combat - and for some reason you felt completely off today.

You had tired earlier than usual, your sprint times were significantly slower than last time, for some reason you struggled to concentrate on the multitude of homemade targets the boys had set up in their diy firing range, and to top it all off, Dean had landed a few more hits than usual when you were sparring together. None that properly hurt your body, just your pride.

To put it bluntly, you felt like shit.

And, your brain being the lovely brain it is, was taking your thoughts and running with them.

You're kidding yourself if you think you'll ever be half as good as Sam and Dean.

They only keep you around cause they have to, if you weren't related to them they'd have dropped you at the nearest motel and high-tailed it.

They wish they could just train properly without you.

By this point, you had accepted defeat. Tonight was a hide-under-the-covers-and-cry kind of night, and you just wanted to make it to your room before your mind had any other fun ideas to make you feel even worse. Sleep seemed like your only way out of this funk.

Unfortunately, as well as having a keen sense for hunting, your brothers also had a keen sense for when something was wrong.

"You good Y/N?" Dean called from behind you, right as you went to reach for the door handle.

You nodded silently without thinking, your attention currently preoccupied by holding back the tears prickling at your eyes, and pushed the door open.

You didn't have to look back to know your response only heightened Dean's worry for you. You were never quiet after training, even if you had pushed to the brink of exhaustion.

So, of course, a few moments after you collapsed onto your bed, Dean gently knocked on the half-open door.

You gave an unintelligible mumble to allow him inside, and he slowly made his way over.

"I didn't hurt you, did I?" He said with a soft half-chuckle, laying a hand on your shoulder.

That was enough to break your resolve.

You shook your head, trying to keep your breathing steady as the teardrops slid down your nose. The room slowly filled with silence, Dean clearly looking for something to say or do to help you feel better.

Just to make sure he knew you weren't upset at him, you rolled over and wrapped your arms awkwardly around his waist - tucking your head under your arm on Dean's leg. It was a little difficult, with him sitting upright and you laying down, but he got the message.

"You wanna tell me about it?" Dean ran his blunt fingernails through your hair a few times, knowing that always relaxed you. "Maybe I can help?"

You thought about it for a minute, but before you considered if you should respond or not Sam's voice came from the doorway.

"Everything ok?" He asked, and you knew the exact look of concern that would be pressing on his brow.

As the bed creaked under a third body's weight, you knew you probably weren't going to get out of this without saying something to your brothers. They would never force you to talk, of course, and if you needed some alone time they'd oblige - no questions asked - but they certainly wouldn't stop looking out for you over the next while until they knew you were ok again.

How difficult it is having a caring family.

"I just feel like I was crap today." You admitted, trying your best to keep your voice steady.

Dean sighed sympathetically, moving his fingers down to gently scratch across your back. You released the last bit of air you had been holding and relaxed into his touch, silently grateful they weren't pushing more of an explanation and were just letting you calm down.

After a few moments though, Dean's fingertips strayed a little too close to the right side of your back. You were so chilled out you didn't even realise you had let a giggle slip as you flinched under his touch.

"Shit, sorry." Dean said softly. "Wasn't trying to tickle you."

"It's nice." You once again murmured - too relaxed to properly consider how embarrassing that admission would usually be.

"Are you sure?" Dean half-laughed in surprise. "You're ridiculously ticklish, and most people hate being tickled at the best of times."

Well, in for a penny in for a pound.

You nodded, trying to suppress the flush forming on your cheeks. "It's a good distraction."

Dean gave a single, silent chuckle, before continuing to softly scratch his fingernails along your ribs. Gentle giggles flowed effortlessly out of your mouth with each touch, your torso occasionally leaning to one side if he his a particularly ticklish spot. As Sam's hands joined in rubbing your lower back, your crappy thoughts dissipated leaving you to half fall asleep.

"Are you sure it's ok?" Dean asked again, breaking the comfortable silence.

You laughed in response, "If you worry any harder you're head's gonna explode."

That earned a gasp.

"I'm helping you you little shit!" Dean grinned, poking up your sides - this time with ticklish intent.

You squealed, hands rushing into position to protect yourself (but not actively working against Dean's just yet).

"Yeah, that's no way to talk to your brother!" Sam added. "Though now I'm wondering if you were trying to get a reaction like that..."

"Nohohoho!" You shook your head, giggles spilling out of your grinning mouth. "Screhew yohou bohoth!"

"Oh you're definitely asking for it." Dean chuckled, and was about to pin your arms above your head when you suddenly twisted away from his grasp and shot your hands under his arms.

The oldest Winchester cackled, flinging himself backwards onto the bed to escape your wriggling fingertips wreaking havoc on one of his most ticklish spots. And, never one to give up the opportunity to annoy his brother, Sam joined your attack by squeezing Dean's hips.

With the three of you wrapped in a tickly tangle, your worries of today's training session faded into the past. Thankfully your brothers would always be there to cheer you up.

[girlfriendsofthegalaxy]

tuesday again 8/13/2024

i think i'm going to take a break from scifi written by men for a bit

listening

Ahmed Malek's Les Vacances de L'inspecteur Tahar, from the 1972 film of the same name.

if i can be really really real for a minute here the only thing i've listened to more than twice this week is GUESS by charli xcx but i don't want to have the same tuesdaysong twice in a row. this would make for an annoying end of year playlist.

i got an ad for a collected set of Ahmed Malek's Algerian jazz music on instagram. a session musician in Algiers, he made his name as a soundtrack composer with this comedic detective movie and was in demand for the rest of his life-- he's still really beloved in the African jazz scene, his works are super collectible, and his daughter gifted all his masters to a tiny record company so they could rerelease and preserve them.

it sounds exactly how you think a 70s cop movie should sound. impeccable example of the genre. instantly evocative. i wonder if it influenced the wider cop drama soundscape or if it's just an early example?

-

reading

many books disappointed me a great deal this week.

thank you philip.

the only comic i did like was Marauders (2019-2022), trying to get a little bit more into the xmen since my bestie has decided we're watching all their movies. this is really fun bc i knew who kitty pryde was, and she's a privateer captain who looks beat to shit the whole book. extremely fun and gay and swashbuckling, i placed holds for the other volumes already.

the two rogue and gambit books assumed i knew more about those characters than i already did, and had a heavy reliance on flashbacks and references to other issues.

the magic order was insufferable and did not stick its landing. made me worry about the characters and then feel really fucking stupid for worrying about the characters. i don't know why i keep trying mark millar books and thinking i will like them.

HOTELITOR had a very fun concept (mech hotel), but was a little more middle-grade than i was expecting, even from a teen book. very calarts visual style. very power of friendship will undo an evil corporation, which, i wish.

this little mermaid manga was not for me. and that's fine. most manga isn't for me.

we have to take a brief detour into how i store my books (poorly). these big middle shelves hold an unsorted mass, mostly of stuff i'm not sure i want to keep. i'm trying to be more thoughtful about which books i keep bc realistically i do not reread very often (if at all) and i am running out of space. as much as i love weird little scifi and fantasy paperbacks it would be cool if they all fit on one shelf.

here are four books i rapidly cycled through this weekend that are going to be donated.

Michael Moorcock's The Black Corridor, 1969, about a man slowly going insane in a spaceship fleeing a politically violent Earth with his friends and relations in cryosleep. not a very beloved Moorcock book among the Moorcock fans. this has a heavy focus on the rise of British fascism and i'm not now, nor will i ever be, in the mood for this. a shame bc this slim hardcover has proportions that were very nice to hold.

Thomas Burnett Swan's Where is the Bird of Fire?, 1970, three not quite short stories but not quite novellas about mythical creatures at the founding of Rome, Xerxes the Great's empire, and Britain near the fall of Rome. states very clearly exactly what it is on the tin and delivers it, unfortunately i don’t like any of the flavors on offer. every single one of these has the half-coy kind of sex scene common in historical fiction, where in order to represent the past accurately and with full verisimilitude we Must convey that they fucked nasty and had fun doing it. many times. unfortunately a middle aged man wrote these and our erotic sensibilities are Very far apart.

Glen Cook's Cold Copper Tears, 1988, a noirish urban fantasy. there are fourteen books in this series so clearly people like them. i found a lot of the Noir Similes a little tortured. "but kay isn't that the point--" yes but these annoyed me. also there's a rape joke i didn't enjoy on the fourth fucking page. i have very few hard outs in fiction and one of them is on-screen or on-page sexual assault or rape jokes in chapter one. i am slightly less likely to drop a book if it has rape jokes in chapters that are not the first but like. it’s still almost a flat line at 100%.

and the only one i got two-thirds of the way through, and which i partially liveblogged here,

Eric Kotani and John Maddox Robert's Between the Stars, 1988, the third in their Island Worlds series. it stands alone fairly well, which is impressive.

this book is good at differentiating a very large, very clannish cast, which is a hard thing to do in a political opera. people are often differentiated by little physical movement quirks, which a spy later uses to identify someone. it’s a lovely bit of business and definitely the authors’ strong points.

also props for two of the most capable people, an ill-liked matriarch/scientific genius and a femme fatale Russian, for being two of the most interesting characters with the most screen time, both on their own and in other character’s thoughts. unfortunately, with such a large cast and so many factions, the action is often split and meandering. racist in the very specific orientalist way cyberpunk eighties fiction often is, but uncommonly, they remembered Turkey existed and included in the orientalism?

severely suffered from a second act where it tripped over its own feet a lot instead of continued forward motion, quite honestly i got bored and tired of being hit over the head with various points. a very whedonesque quality of needing to comment on the political implication of something the instant after it happens.

this is not a subtle book, and it smacks less of an urgency to get a point across in as few words as possible and more an uncertainty in the authors of getting their point across at all. this is confusing to me bc this was their fourth book together and the third in this series. have some more confidence in your writing abilities. like, if you've already established your baddie as a fascist torturer who literally owns slaves and plans on taking over earth, you don't need to have him also say "Hitler was much-maligned" at a dinner party he's holding in a room full of hunting trophies where the only things on the table are red wine and whole game birds. you've more than established him as evil. the whole book is like this. it's exhausting.

not a book for me! many such cases!

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watching

my brother was really singing the praises of vampire hunter d's animation and i was like, postapoc roaming vampire bounty hunter? say less! im already getting in!

i watched the 1980s version with some bemusement until he was like "why did you watch that and not the 2000 version." well that would have been so cool of you to be more specific, my boy!!! vampire hunter d (1985, dir. Toyoo Ashida) was still fun but clearly had way less of a budget than Vampire Hunter D Bloodlust (2000, dir. Yoshiaki Kawajiri)

i enjoyed bloodlust a little more bc it had a postapoc style i enjoyed a little more: showed me big manta rays that hide under the sand, big ruined radio dishes, and lots of beautifully ruined skyscrapers and fucked up highway overpasses. every time you see me post about a BIG!!! FUCKING!!! DISH!!! you should hear this schoolchildren "YAAAAAY!" sample from Jet Set Radio

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playing

nothing much to report, a lot of grindy genshin impact shit as i try to clear all my map markers before the new nation drops at the end of the month.

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making

the girls have three litter boxes available to them (laundry room/spare bathroom/utility closet), all in the correct and recommended locations, all with good sightlines and escape routes and all out of the main hustle and bustle of the apartment, all open top, all with the same kind of litter and the same kind of litter mat. they only use the one in my laundry room. since phil has had free roam of the house she has not used the one in the office bathroom. i asked my vet about this and sent her pictures to make sure i was doing everything right and the diagnosis was "yeah that's a little weird of them". can we spread the wear and tear out a little more, girls? so i don't have to deep clean the same litterbox every week?

[adsmae]

ˢᵘᵐᵐᵉʳ ᵇᵘᵐᵐᵉʳ

ᴿᵒᵈʳⁱᶜᵏ ˣ ᶠᵉᵐ ʳᵉᵃᵈᵉʳ

ᵂᵃʳⁿⁱⁿᵍˢ: ⁿᵒⁿᵉ

You and rodrick have been dating for over a year and it’s been a hell of a ride. You’ve both pretty much have done everything together. You loved the small little memories you’ve made with him like; When you and rodrick got challenged to ‘who ever could make the best sand castle’ from a random kid at the beach. It ended up with you winning because the kid tumbled over rodricks sand castle. You remember how rodricks face was; a pouting baby that couldn’t get anything he wanted. It was very amusing to say the least. It was one of your favorite memories but since you got caught for sneaking out to go to rodricks party your parents decided on you going to summer camp for the...WHOLE SUMMER. It sucked because you were looking forward to spending the summer with rodrick and your friends Juniper, Faith, Ben, and Chris. You had your whole summer planned out just to get caught sneaking out. You were very upset and sad about the situation but you were going to try and make your last week in plainsview as positive as possible without being in a funk. Rodrick wasn’t the biggest fan of your parents right now. 

It was your last day in plainsview and you decided on spending it with rodrick at his house because you’ve been spending most of your time studying and hanging with your friends as much as you could but tonight you just wanted to be alone with rodrick especially since you weren’t going to be seeing him for 3 months.

“That movie wasn’t so bad” You say nuzzling your face more into his chest with his arm wrapped around your frame. He laughs sending vibrations through out his chest. 

“It can’t be as bad as your rom coms” Rodrick snarkily replied making you roll your eyes in response. You quickly sat up and narrowed your eyes at the now smirking rodrick

“Jerk, you know you love them” You playfully push his chest in defense, glaring more at him. He knew just how to get on your nerves even if you both were just messing around. 

“They are all cliches’...parties, hooking up, college; girl next door falls in love with boy... blah blah blah” He shrugs while leaning his head back on the headboard

“It’s actually boy falls in love with girl next door but sure” You chortled. You sigh checking your phone, realizing that it’s almost time to go home. You didn’t want to leave him or leave at all for that matter but the time is ticking

“Y/n, you okay?” You heard the bed shift as rodrick sits closer to you. He moves his hand under your chin turning your head for you to look at him. 

“Y-yeah I just realized it’s getting later. I really wish I could stay longer” You frown putting your phone aside. Before you knew it rodrick pulls you down. You were now laying on top of rodrick with his slender arms snaking around you stopping at the small of your back. 

“I wish you could stay too but since you can’t get out of it, you better call me and text me as much as you can...oh and listen to my music if you miss me” He playfully winked. You give him a half hearted smile even though it still wouldn’t be the same. 

“Okay loverboy” You softly smiled. Rodrick leans in, giving your lips a peck. 

You get out of your laying position to sit on rodrick “Don’t fall in love with someone that isn’t me while I’m gone” you expressed before grabbing his chin and kissing him

Out of nowhere your phone starts ringing and you pull back from the kiss. Rodrick rolls his eyes at the annoying sound coming from your phone. You quickly crawl off of rodrick and grab your phone. You sigh as you see your moms caller Id pop up on the screen, knowing it was time to head home. You texted her instead of answering the call before grabbing your bag and your shoes. 

“Don’t forget your homework on my desk and don’t forget about me” Rodrick stated. You shake your head, as if you could forget about him. 

You grab the homework on his messy desk that had clutter scattered all over and under it and shove it in your bag before walking over and sitting on the edge of the mattress, slipping your shoes on, you feel Rodricks arms wrap around your chest pulling you backward. You could barely breathe.

“Rod, I have to go. My mom is going to kill me” You stated. Rodrick ignores your attempt to move away from him and attacks your face with kisses. 

You finally get free from Rodricks grasp and stand up. You grab your bag and phone and sigh, seeing three texts from your mom. 

“Come on don’t leave your poor lonesome boyfriend hanging. Can I have one more kiss? pleaseeeeeeee” You roll your eyes at his pouting and put your phone in your back pocket. “Fine but that's all you’re getting” You move in between his legs before he grabs your face and smashes his lips onto yours. The kiss lasted a good ten seconds but ten seconds too long. 

You pull away and Rodrick pouts even more from the loss of your lips. A small laugh escapes your mouth before pecking his lips once more. 

Before he could kiss you again you hurried to the bedroom door

“And don’t worry I won’t fall in love with someone who isn’t you” Rodrick softly yelled out. You smiled at how he remembered what you said. 

You turn around and blow him a kiss and Rodrick pretends to catch it before he places his hand over his heart

*Dork* you thought to yourself but you can’t help but love that dork to death for some odd reason