#maybe not watching tv is the answer to enlightenment?

[mihai-florescu]

Not a single person is normal about the writers strike imo

#'if i cant have my show asap ill kms' vs 'i hope every show ever gets cancelled' youre both so weird #i hope the writers demands get met but im also completely an outsider cuz i dont watch television #maybe not watching tv is the answer to enlightenment? #im very sleepy dont take this post too seriously im just annoyed by most takes i see. theyre all so...violent? #certainly not normal ppl behavior

[jaeminlovesboomboomtime]

enhypen reaction to you calling them by their first name

Heeseung

“Heeseung what are your plans for today?”

“I’m sorry, what did you say?” he would ask with this face 😦

dawg was literally eating his cereal when you asked him this and just stared at you eating his cereal slowly

“Heeseung, I asked you what your plans were for today” you said rolling your eyes bc he wasn’t answering you 🥱

He then gets up out of his chair and walks over to you. he puts his arms on your shoulder and says “Please, enlighten me on what you said again”

your literally malfunctioning like a robot that just got water poured on it.

“Uhm no man”

“ugh ew don’t EVER call me man”

“Well then what do I call you, Heeseung?”

“I don’t know maybe like, Heedeungie or Bambi?”

his eyes would be sparkling sm i swear 🥹

unfortunately you would give in and call him ‘heedeungie’ and ‘bambi’

“What no i’m- i dont- ugh fine. ONLY because your my boyfriend and i love you <3”

he starts jumping up and down like a little child when he finally wins.

Jay

You’ve always really liked Jay’s perfume collection. He had some sprays that he’d let you borrow but you wanted some for your own.

“Hey Jeongseong, where do you get all these perfumes from?”

mans socks almost flew off his feet when you said his first name. 😇

“I’m sorry who the hell is Jeongseong?” he asked as if you didn’t know what had just came out of your mouth.

you, being a watery 🤡 just replied with, “Uhm who is the only man here with the name Jeongseong?”

blud looked at you so offended 😭

when you stood up from the couch dawg tackled you back on the couch and cuddled with you.

“I’ll get them for you-“

“Omg yay thank you so much!” you cut him off but he continues

“-Only if you don’t call me Jeongseong anymore.” he said looking at you with an eyebrow raised.

“Okay okay deal!”

man smiles at his success 😃

Jake

since winter was coming up, you still had your summer stuff out and really needed help putting it all away. Jake was doing nothing besides playing a game on his phone (let’s say rhythm hive 😍) so you decided ask him for help.

“Hey Jaeyun, would you mind helping me out by putting the summer shit in the shed? 😃”

🧍‍♂️🧍‍♂️

“Uhm you good Jaeyun?”

🐌🐌

doesn’t make a big deal about it and decides to play along yk?

“Sure thing, Y/N. I’ll help you!” jake replied smiling from ear to ear.

You just stand there. You didn’t actually think that Jake would be so chill about it

🧍‍♀️

“What? What’s wrong Y/N”

“Ugh baby your ruined it!” you said playfully while running into the backyard.

“HAHAHA I SAUR GOT YOU GOOD.” Jake laughs and runs into the yard with you.

“You SAUR didnt 🥱🙄” you said mocking jake.

Sunghoon

blud is used to you doing this at this point. don’t even respond to you

“Hey Sunghoon what ya doing?” You ask.

“Oh nothing just watching TV.” He said as if it wasn’t obvious enough.

“Oh. Well Sunghoon I was just wondering if you wanted to watch a movie with me”

“Sure, I’ll pick the movie.” He said getting up

you were very confused on why he wasn’t reacting like you thought he would’ve. you honestly thought he would’ve been somewhat upset about it but he seems to not be bothered.

“Sunghoon can it be a action move please 🙏?” you asked. you called him sunghoon to see if it would tick him off but he didn’t budge.

“Hey! Why aren’t you reacting when I call you by your first name?” You ask upset

Sunghoon just slowly turns around and looks at you 😛

“Because, you do this to me all the time babe.”

“Oh”

🧍‍♀️🧍‍♀️

you literally feel so embarrassed and now wanna dig your own grave.

Sunoo

Poor baby was so confused. he literally didn’t know what to do after what came out of your mouth.

“Hi Sunoo! Isn’t it such a pretty day out. Wanna go for a walk with me?”

babes just stood their with his mouth like 😦

looks around the room and then point to himself.

“Me?” he asked with his mouth still agape

“Yes you Sunoo! Who else is named Sunoo in this house?” you replied back

“No one..” he replied back softly.

“Do you wanna go for a walk with me Sunoo?”

“Only if you don’t call me Sunoo anymore. I like being call bub, baby, and ddeonu”

he was pouting and WHFILE he is saur cute.

sunoo rn:

🥺🥺

“Okay bub i’m sorry. I wont do it again.” You said smiling and hugging him.

happy sunoo = happy life

Jungwon

you and jungwon decided to do some ‘spring cleaning’ in your bedroom. yalls were cleaning underneath his bed when you found a skateboard

you always wanted to learn how to skate but never did because your older brothers were just asses 🙄

“Jungwonnnnn, ouuuu can you please teach me how to skate? please please pleaseeee?”

shy creature istg

“What? OH skating yeah mhm I could teach you!"

you literally spent the rest of the day learning and let's say you have scratches all over each your legs and hands..

He made it his job to place a a huge ass bandaid on each one and place a tiny kisthy on each one which eventually annoyed you.

MY HEART ❤️❤️❤️

Niki

you saw this trend on tiktok where people are making cakes of pictures of people but end up looking like it just fell 30ft in the air. you really wanted to do this with niki because 1. you were bored and 2. because you just love spending with with him.

you heard him coming towards the kitchen so you call him over

“Riki i wanna make something with you come here now please!”

he does that thing where he slowly turns his neck and pops his eyeballs out. (KSJDNDJISKOWOA IHOPE YALL KNOW WHAT IM TALKING ABOUT)

"What did you call me?" he says with a psychotic look while smiling in the hallway.

“Riki..baby..?”

he runs from the hallway, picks you up, and runs over to the living room to plop down on you.

"RIKIll HELP ME | CANT BREATHE"

acts innocent while your suffering

"So what did you wanna ask me? 😇😇😇 he says with his legs kicking back and forth while your under him

“I wanted to make a cake with you” you say out of breath.

“Oh yay! I love cake!” He says running back to the kitchen leaving you on the couch.

HAJOAPALA I CANT BELIEVE I FINALLY HAD THE NUTS TO POST 😭 yalls this is my first post so at least give me some credit for trying here ☹️ anyways, love yall. stay safe!! ❤️❤️❤️

#enha x reader #enhypen #enhypen reactions #heeseung x reader #jay x reader #jake x reader #sunghoon x reader #sunoo x reader #jungwon x reader #niki x reader

[lieutenantwilliamrusso]

It Will Come Back S2 7

Warnings: Sex, 18+ Minors DNI

Werewolf Stalker! Billy Russo x Female Reader

A/N: I told ya they'd fuck. Also, we're nearing the last few chapters, maybe 1 or 2 left after this. Thanks for sticking with it!!! I appreciate you all so much <3

You wake first, Billy’s head on your chest, arms wrapped tightly around your middle. His breathing is slow and deep, and you’re filled with a deep satisfaction at his calm state. You see his skin looks a little less pale as you brush his hair from his forehead. He’s beautiful, face framed by long thick lashes, dotted with dark freckles. His beauty makes you short of breath, catches you off guard all the time. There’s something growing in your chest as you watch him sleep. It’s warm and light and it fills the empty spaces until you can’t help but smile down at his prone form. You think you know the name for it, but you keep it locked away, safe for another day.

He stirs then, arms tightening momentarily as he wakes. Billy nuzzles his face into your chest, taking a deep breath as he opens his eyes. When they land on you, they soften, lips falling open just a little as he takes you in.

“Hi.” You whisper, afraid to break the morning calm with too much noise.

“Hey.” Billy answers, smiling softly up at you.

“How’re you feeling?”

“Better.” You think he means it.

You keep stroking his hair, just watching him be. He watches you back, brown eyes flicking across your face every so often.

“Did you mean it?” He asks after a few minutes, eyes locking with your own and you know exactly what he's talking about.

“Every word. You and I can’t shake each other, Russo. I was wrong. You did something wrong. Cancels out, I guess.” You say, a wry smile on your lips.

“Don’t think it works like that, sweetheart.”

“You sayin’ you want me to change my mind?” You poke his back, running your nails over his shoulders as you say it.

He shivers, putting his head back on your chest and squeezing you tight.

“No, ma’am.” He says resolutely. “I’m sorry.” He adds.

“Me too.” You answer. “I can give you forgiveness, and I can work towards trust. Just be patient with me, okay?”

“As long as you stay you can have whatever you want.”

That makes you laugh, wrapping your arms back around Billy to hug him.

“Deal.”

-

He doesn’t let you leave his side, making a late breakfast with you and relaxing in front of the TV. The whole time Billy is pressed to your side or has a hand in yours. It’s sweet, the way he oscillates between cocky and downright adorable. It also turns you on, knowing you have that effect on him. You find your mind wandering to how solid Billy’s body is, how good he feels pressed against you, and you remember Frank’s words, but you’re hesitant. You’ve only just agreed to work on trusting Billy again. How will sex add to the already complicated equation?

There’s a part of you that doesn’t care. It’s the part that saw him last night and realized just how much he needs you, the part that acknowledges you might need him too.

So when you pass Billy's home office on the way to the bathroom and see the live feed of your apartment, you hatch a plan to fix it all.

“Hey, Bill.” You purr, coming back to the living room where Billy is still on the couch.

“Hey, sweetheart.” He replies, smile tugging at his lips.

“How’re you feeling?” You ask to gauge how you’ll proceed.

“I’m good. Feel normal.” He responds, and you believe him. His color is back and he’s entirely alert, the sharp focus returning to his eyes, the warmth to his skin.

“Is there anything I can do?” You ask, feigning helpful innocence.

Billy tilts his head, lips still curved upwards.

“I’d appreciate it if you’d come back over here.” He answers.

“Anything else?” You ask, obeying.

“Why do I feel like you want something else?” He asks, grabbing your wrist to pull you onto his lap when you get close enough.

“I do.” You reply as you wrap your arms around his neck, straddling his thighs.

“Do enlighten me.” He says, one eyebrow lifting.

Instead of answering you kiss him, slotting your lips together tightly. His mouth is warm, and just the slightest bit wet, and you aren’t sure how you lasted so long without this feeling. You curse yourself for wasting so much time away from him, even though deep down you know it had to happen. Still, you make a silent vow to never go more than a day without kissing Billy Russo again, and you fully expect to keep it.

He groans quietly, grabbing your waist to pull you flush against him. You gasp, and he uses to opportunity to lick into your mouth, rubbing his tongue against your own. It’s dirty and heated, and before you know it you��re rocking on the bulge in his sweatpants, wet and aching for more. But that’s not the plan. Before Billy can move his hands too far up your chest, you slide off his lap and onto the floor. He’s flushed, and a little confused as you kneel before him.

“What’re you up to?” He asks.

“What does it look like?” You sass, hands moving to rub his thighs.

They’re muscular and lithe, just like the rest of him. You’ve always been into thighs, and Billy’s are enough to make your mouth water. You wonder for a moment what they might feel like on your bare pussy, but you quickly draw your attention back to the task at hand.

“Looks like you want my cock in your mouth.” Billy says, cutting right to it.

“Who said that?” You feign innocence once more, eyes wide and brows raised.

“You think I don’t see how you’re looking at me, brat?” Billy retorts.

“Well someone has to make sure you aren’t sick anymore.” You say, finally dragging your fingers across his clothed cock.

You feel it twitch under your hand, and you get a sudden rush of confidence to see this through.

He doesn’t answer you, eyes locked on your hands and they begin to rub his thigh and stroke his cock. When he’s gasping and rocking his hips up into your hand, you look up to ask his permission silently. He meets your gaze, mouth swollen and red to nod at you, helping you to get him naked.

When he’s bare before you, his cock standing tall against the trail of hair on his pelvis, you lean up to hover over it. You look him in the eyes as you let a line of saliva fall from your lips to spread across the head of his cock, running down to the base in a glistening trail. You stick two fingers in your mouth, adding spit to them before you take Billy’s cock in your hand to stroke him at a leisurely pace. He moans, a short, gravelly thing that sends shivers down your shoulder blades, and makes your pussy clench.

“Yeah.” You sigh. “You are sick, huh?” You ask, pumping his dick a little faster.

“Huh?” He mumbles, brain entirely focused on the movement of your hand as you twist your wrist at the base of his cock.

“You’re a sick man, Billy. You wanna know why?” You ask, leaning forward to lick a stripe over the head.

When you pull back there’s a line of precome linking his skin to your tongue, and you let it trail over your lips before you lick it away.

“What are you talkin’ about?” He slurs, lost to the pleasure already.

“How many cameras are in my apartment?” You interrogate as he lifts his hips to meet your hand.

Suddenly he’s alert, eyes wide and mouth slack. When you stop stroking and squeeze, he groans, pleasure momentarily halted.

“Not enough, sweetheart.” He grits out. “Need one to see that pussy when you touch it.”

You laugh, unsurprised by his stalking after everything.

“You sick fuck, watching a woman touch herself like that. You're so lonely you have to watch me touch my pussy and wish I’d let you have it?” You tease, hand moving again.

“I’ll show you a sick fuck.” Billy growls as he knocks your hand away, grabbing the tops of your arms to pull you onto the couch.

You land with an "oof," on your back, chest heaving as Billy hovers over you.

“Yeah?” You taunt. “You think you deserve this pussy?”

Billy’s hand wraps around your throat, eyes level with yours.

“I think you’re gonna give it to me anyways. I think that little pussy is so soaked and desperate she’ll let me fuck her right here, huh?” He growls.

“Beg for it, then.” You sass, still wanting control.

Billy chuckles darkly, rubbing his cock over your clothed pussy, making you gasp and reach for his shoulders, grasping them tightly.

“Please, please try not to come before I’m even inside you. You gonna last or are you too cock hungry to even get your clothes off?” Billy retorts.

“Get them off then. Or is he just all bark and no bite?” You laugh.

Billy spanks the outside of your thigh, before he grabs the t-shirt you’d borrowed and rips it right down the front, a jagged line dividing the two pieces exposing your chest to him. You moan loudly, legs spreading as wide as you can get them.

“That’s more like it, fucking brat.”

He slides off your panties first, then your bra, tossing them behind him somewhere, and then you’re naked below Billy Russo for the second time. Your bite throbs, and you instinctively tilt your head back to expose your throat. Billy growls and attaches his mouth to the skin, sucking and biting on and around it. You buck your hips, desperate for some friction as he moves his hands to knead your breasts, fingers pinching and rolling your nipples as he mouths at your neck. Your nails dig into his shoulder, one hand now in his hair, tugging on finger fulls as he works you over.

When both of your hips press together just right you and Billy moan at the same time, and you silently urge him to take it farther.

“More, more please.” You beg in his head.

“Looks who’s begging now.” He teases right back.

“Billy Russo if you don’t fuck me right now I’m gonna kill you.” You moan out loud.

“Shh, I’m gonna suck on these pretty nipples first, and then we’ll see how you behave.” Billy commands, leaning down to do just that.

He sucks one nipple and then the other into his mouth, teeth grazing the sensitive skin. You let out a sound that’s half moan half sob as the pleasure builds, your thighs trapping Billy against you.

When he lets up, you think he’s finally going to fuck you, but Billy has other plans.

“Here’s the problem, sweet girl. You’ve been such a little tease today, playing with my cock and saying all kinds of bratty shit. And you know just how fucking tight you are. So what am I gonna do, huh? You think I should give you what you want and just fuck you? No, baby, I gotta open you up first, stretch that sweet hole. Gonna make you wait.” Billy purrs, voice velvet in your ear.

You shiver, refusing to let up on the steel grip you have on his body. He tugs your hands free though and puts one hand on the back his head, the other he takes and places it on his shoulder, and you’re suddenly very aware that he’s about to go down on you.

Billy taps your lips with the fingers of his right hand, and you open for him, sucking his middle and index fingers between your lips, wetting them. You release them with a pop, and Billy continues to move down your body, pressing his wet fingers to your clit as he kisses down your skin. He licks a stripe from your collarbone down to your breasts, kissing each nipple wetly so the cold air slides against them as he descends to your stomach, nipping the soft skin before he reaches your mound. Billy presses kisses down it before pulling away to take your thighs in his hands, pulling them over his shoulders as he settles on his stomach between them. He kisses one inner thigh and then the other, pausing to suck a dark bruise into the skin as he grips them from the outside.

You’re floating by now, mind lost to the pleasure. The only sounds you make are strained moans and sighs that carry Billy’s name. When he finally, finally presses his mouth to your clit, you gasp, hips lifting hard, only stopped by Billy’s arms around your thighs. He licks and sucks on the bud, rolling it beneath his tongue with just the right amount of pressure. When he sucks and releases with an obscenely wet sound, he kisses down your slit, dipping his tongue between your folds until he’s making out with your pussy, the sound of your soaked cunt making Billy moan into your skin. You remove the hand that’s on Billy's shoulder and bring it to meet the other in his hair, pulling on the silky strands as he eats your cunt like a starved man.

When you’re plenty pliant and writhing beneath him, Billy breaches your entrance with two fingers, scissoring them inside of you to prep for his cock. His hand quickly becomes soaked, your pussy coating his skin until it glistens and you’re sure by now you’ve ruined his couch underneath you. Your first orgasm is quickly approaching, and you’re sure Billy can tell by the way you repeatedly clench around his long fingers. They stroke your walls, rubbing the spongy spot inside of you as he flicks your clit with his tongue. It only takes a few more seconds for you to come apart for him, a prolonged moan falling from your lips as you come, thighs squeezing around his head. Billy moans with you, and as you come down you notice the way his hips rock slowly into the couch cushion.

He stays between your legs for a moment, breathing you in and savoring your taste in his mouth as you try to regain motion in your lower half. You’re clinging to his shoulders now, attempting to catch your breath.

When you’re as calm as you can be knowing Billy Russo is about to fuck you, he moves back up your body to meet your clouded over gaze.

“How are you doing, sweet girl? Still wanna kill me?”

“Shut up.” You mumble, tracing shapes on his collar bone.

“You taste perfect.” He says honestly, brown eyes molten in the light.

“I know.” You sass, eyes barely open.

“I guess I still need to fuck that out of you, huh?” He says, pulling back abruptly.

Then you’re being thrown over Billy’s shoulder and carried to his bedroom. When he tosses you onto the bed like you weigh nothing, you stop to take in the room for a second. It’s neat if not a little sparse, like someone with good taste lives here but they aren’t around much. There are no family pictures and barely any personal knickknacks. It sends a brief pang of sadness through you, just how few people Billy has. It makes you grateful to be one as he stalks towards you, cock red and dripping.

Any other thought leaves your head as he comes to lay beside you on the bed, spreading his thighs.

“Come on. You’re gonna ride it, brat.”

Your eyes widen, taking in his words, the meaning making you impossibly wetter. You crawl over, straddling his thighs. He puts his hands on your own thighs, giving you stability as you lift up to align his cock with your entrance. You rub your folds against his head, spreading your wetness as he shudders beneath you. When you take the first few inches you both moan. You throw your head back as you press him deeper inside of you, the stretch amplifying the already overwhelming pleasure. When he bottoms out you begin to rock, grinding your hips just right so that his cock drags along all the sweet spots inside of you. He grips your hip one hand, the other coming up to squeeze a breast as you pick up speed. You grab his pecs, digging your fingers into the soft flesh as you begin to bounce.

Your ass slaps against his hips as he adjusts his grips to grasp both hips in his hands, pulling you down onto him with each bounce. He thrusts up to meet you, knocking the breath from your lungs.

“Come on, just like that. Milk my cock with that pretty cunt.” He moans.

“Billy, Billy yes, right there!” You feel your second orgasm swiftly approaching, cresting over your lower belly in a wave.

“Gonna come in this tight pussy, fill you with it. You know why baby?” Billy asks between groans.

You shake your head, words lost.

“Because you’re mine. My girl, my fucking girl.” He moans, thrusts becoming sloppy.

“Yours!” You whine in agreement.

A few more seconds and then you’re coming undone together, orgasms triggered by each other’s movements. You ride it together, you milking his cock as he twitches in your wet heat, filling you until his come leaks out around your entrance.

There’s only the sound of your breathing as you flop onto Billy’s chest, nuzzling into it with him still inside of you.

That warm feeling is back, spreading over your chest as you breath him in. It’s in the front of your mind, the unnamed emotion, as you rest on the only man you’ve ever felt like calling home. You’re home, in his arms, on his cock. There’s not another place you want to be, ever.

#billy russo x reader #my fics #billy russo #monster!billy russo

[lythea-creation]

Great Timing - Natasha Romanoff x fem reader (chapter 2)

Previous Chapter

warnings: trust issues, injuries, angst

word count: 2.277

----------

Natasha's PoV

“Hey Natasha! We're having a movie night. Care to join?”, Sam shouted through the compound.

I had just finished my work and wanted to head home. Especially with everything going on with Layla it was hard for me not to be there to protect my girlfriend and her apparently best friend.

Clint approached me and pulled me aside. “What is going on, Tasha? You've been restless for days.”

Of course he had noticed. Clint and (f/n) were the only ones able to read me like an open book.

“I'm worried about (f/n). Maybe I'm just paranoid, but I have an uneasy feeling whenever I'm not around”, I admitted.

“I know what you mean. I feel the same with Laura and the kids, although I know they aren't helpless. Laura is capable of taking care of herself and the kids. Can't help myself cause I love them. But it won't improve if you don't give yourself the chance to get used to it. And with your job you won't always be around. Sometimes we're on the other side of the planet or even universe. That's just how it is.”

“Yeah … you're right. You've been my only family before her and always been around or at least supported by super powers and high tech weapons. Dating a civilian is harder than I expected”, I stated with a sigh.

“But she's definitely good for you. You open up more”, Clint proclaimed.

“I will call her and ask if it's alright if I stay here for the night”, I decided.

Clint nodded with an encouraging smile before he joined the others in front of the gigantic TV.

“Hey Nat! Is everything alright?”, (f/n) worried when I called her.

“Yeah. The others are having a movie night and I'm considering to join them”, I enlightened her.

“That sounds great! You should stay and enjoy some time with your friends outside of work. I will miss you, but Layla and I will figure something out to prevent me from getting whiny”, she joked making me smile softly. Just listening to her made my urge to have her close more prominent.

“Okay. Call me if anything is up, alright?”, I reassured.

“Of course. I hope you have fun. Love you. Bye.” With these words she hung up.

I shook my head with a smile. She knew me too well. Talking to her a little longer might have tempted me to change my plans to see her.

“Oh, the great Black Widow is honoring us with her presence”, Tony exclaimed as soon as I entered the TV lounge.

“Shut up, Stark”, I shot back with a smirk.

They had already chosen to watch Harry Potter as Steve had never seen the movies.

Actually it was quite funny.

Tony was making comments about the magic in connection with science.

Steve was basically drawn into the TV.

Sam was declaring how he had always wished to be a wizard and go to Hogwarts, while Wanda was teasing him with her witchy powers.

I relaxed more over time as my thoughts were not constantly centered around (f/n) and dozens of worst-case-scenarios.

“Want some popcorn?”, Wanda wondered.

The ringing of my phone gulped down my reply.

Instantly I jumped up and answered the phone while leaving the room in order not to bother the others and have some privacy.

“Natasha? He … he's here.” Layla's voice revealed her panic.

Now the worst-case-scenarios popped back into my head.

“On my way”, I promised quickly before hanging up.

No time for chatter or soothing her. After all Layla should be safe in the bedroom if everything had worked out as planned.

I had not liked the plan right from the beginning. It kept Layla safe and put (f/n) in even more danger in the process.

My feet moved me back to the other Avengers. “I need your help.” This was probably the first time these words had left my lips.

Tony wanted to make a snarky remark but stopped himself when he took in my distressed state I did not bother to hide. They should see how serious it was.

“Tony, Steve … you are coming with me. Sam, Wanda, Clint … please prepare the med bay for an emergency. And some tea would be nice. You're finally going to meet my girlfriend just like you always wanted”, I announced and made my way to the elevator, Tony and Steve close behind.

When we arrived at my car Steve stopped me from getting into the drivers seat. “Are you sure you can drive in your state?”

One glare made him shut up and get into the backseat as Tony had already taken the passengers seat by now.

I did not care to take any detours as usually to make sure no one was following. I was bringing (f/n) to Avengers compound anyway. So there was no use in trying to hide as much. She would have to move in now.

“To give you some info ...”, I broke the silence beside the loud traffic noises of New York. “(f/n) and I are having a guest over, her friend Layla. She's been hiding from her abusive boyfriend who found her now. He's at my home and I have no clue what he's doing. I want to be there for (f/n). So it's your job to hand this abusive piece of shit over to the police. Feel free to annoy him but don't hurt him physically. It would only complicate things at the trial.”

That was another reason why I wanted them to take care of him. I doubted that I would be able to hold back if I got him.

When we finally arrived I hurried to find my key.

But then I heard a horrifying scream leading me to kick the door open without realizing.

This bastard was daring to put his fingers on her, to choke her.

One kick and he was the one screaming on the floor as (f/n) was safe in my arms. I never wanted to let her go again.

“Finally”, she mumbled accompanied by a relieved sigh.

“I'm sorry that I took so long, love”, I whispered and my hand automatically caressed her cheek.

The guilt I was feeling was immense. How was I ever supposed to leave her side again?

“Take him away, guys”, I instructed Tony and Steve who quickly obeyed. They most likely did not want to risk me losing my temper after all.

Tony bombarded Joe with sarcastic comments and jokes on the way outside making the latter furious.

“You're going to regret this! I will ruin your reputation”, Joe declared.

“Oh, we will take good care of you. You should be grateful that we don't let Natasha deal with you after you beat up her girlfriend”, Steve shut him down. “Your broken arm was nothing, trust me.”

I had to smile slightly at his words.

“We should let Layla out. I locked her in, just like we planned”, (f/n) reminded me. “You can take care of me afterwards.”

I knew that I could not convince her otherwise and therefore put her down gingerly before setting Layla free.

It was awful to let (f/n) go for even a few seconds.

Layla immediately hurried toward (f/n) and gasped at her state. “Oh god. I'm so sorry”, she whispered.

“Lay, I'm fine. Nat was here just on time thanks to your call”, my girlfriend reassured her. “And now we have the proof we needed”, she added with a victorious grin as she pointed to the security camera we had installed a few days ago exactly for this case.

I knelt down next to her and stroke her hair.

“Your techniques would have saved me if I could have run”, (f/n) let me know which earned her a soft smile from me. “And your psychological tricks worked even better. He felt superior and therefore acted just like I wanted him to.”

“You told us you just wanted him to confess if he ever showed up”, Layla recalled.

“Yeah, but now his confession is way more convincing”, (f/n) remarked with a grin. “You two would have never agreed if I had told you the whole plan. As if you would let me get hurt on purpose.”

She was definitely right about that.

Several emotions overpowered me at her reveal. The first were rage and disbelief for bringing all of us into this situation. Looking down at her bruised and beaten body hurt like hell. The guilt for not being her right away hurt like hell. But the feeling of betrayal was the worst to endure in this moment.

The abusive bastard would have never put her into such a state if I had been here. (f/n) had known that and told me to stay at the compound. I had trusted her to take care of herself and she had twisted everything around.

“You're lucky that you're already injured and that I love you. Otherwise I wouldn't let you off the hook so easily”, I claimed.

It was hard to let the topic drop. But she needed my support and I did not want to fight her. Now out of all times I wanted to be with her as much as possible.

The glint of guilt I could see in her eyes made me feel slightly better. At least she knew that she had hurt me and was not indifferent about it.

“Now let's get you to the compound”, I decided and cradled her in my arms.

“You know that I can still walk, right?”, she questioned with a pain-filled chuckle.

“We don't need to take any more chances. I don't want you to get any internal bleeding”, I stated.

On the way outside I remembered the video and requested Layla to go get it while I placed (f/n) on the passengers seat.

I secured her belt and sat down on the drivers seat again.

“Nat … I know you're mad at me”, (f/n) claimed. “And I understand. I would be mad at you too if our roles were switched. Now you know how I'm feeling every time when you go to work, especially on a dangerous mission.”

“That's not the same. It's my job”, I noted.

“Doesn't change the feeling”, she shot back. “This isn't an accusation. What I wanna say is that I'll be fine. Yeah, I'm injured. But my wounds will heal.”

“Because I was there on time. If I hadn't been, you would be dead now”, I snapped at her and quickly wiped away my tears before Layla could see them as she was just getting to the car.

The car ride was silent.

If either (f/n) or I uttered a word, I was pretty sure I would lose my composure. It was not anything unusual between the two of us. It had taken a lot of time for me to get to this point, but there was nobody I trusted more than her. Layla was the only obstacle in that matter in the moment.

(f/n) attempted to take my hand, but I pulled away hurting both of us.

I had to get out of this damn car! I had to get away from other people. It felt like I was losing sanity. The fear and guilt were overwhelming. I was so used to bottling everything up that my emotions seemed to explode around my girlfriend.

When we arrived at the compound and I turned to look at (f/n), I could see that she was close to crying. My self-worth crashed.

I got out of the car and immediately spotted Wanda waiting for us.

“How bad is it? Need any help bringing her up?”, she asked me.

“I got it, Wanda. Thanks. Could you take care of Layla? She is … upset”, I requested.

“Of course”, she agreed with a nod and sympathetic expression.

I introduced Layla and Wanda to each other and turned my attention to (f/n) who was avoiding my gaze.

(f/n) moved to unlock her seat belt. When a pained hiss escaped her lips I tried to help her, but she stopped me by mumbling: “Don't.”

With a lot of effort she managed to do it herself.

I offered her my hand to help her out of the car leading her to finally look at me with tear-filled eyes.

“(f/n) ...” The pleading sound of my voice would have made me cringe if the situation had been different. It was echoing through the garage as we were alone by now.

“No. You don't get it”, she murmured.

She seemed to recognize my confusion because she continued: “I only did what I did because I trust you. I knew you would be coming for me. I fought because I knew you had my back. I was brave because you helped me believe in myself. I get that you're scared, Nat. I know exactly how it feels. But you can't control everything. You have to trust us too. You need to trust me that I make good decisions and you have to trust yourself that you are making me stronger in so many ways. I learned a lot from you. But you only see a civilian in me which I am not … not anymore. I'm the girlfriend of a stunning spy and Avenger.”

It took me a moment to process her words. “I guess … you're right.”

#marvel #natasha romanoff x fem reader #lgbtqia + #angst #violence #injuries #fighting #drama #romance #tony stark #steve rogers #clint barton #wanda maximoff #sam wilson #avengers #trust issues #love #black widow #great timing

[bearbearlook]

Chiteijin Radio, 8th Oct 2022

spoilers for Silent Parade! bgm: the sad / romantic bgm in galileo

Souguchi: We've got mail! This is Fu-chan, 23, from Shinjuku, office lady, listening from Shibuya Radio.  Fukuyama: Hello Fu-chan! S: I LOVE the duo of Yukawa-sensei and Utsumi Kaoru. F: Thank you. S: I was so excited for their comeback in 10 years that I took leave on the premiere date and watched the movie three times. F: Wow S: Five times over three days. F: You're watching it on a loop! S: Yes, and going to continue that. In the middle of the movie, there was a part where Kaoru bantered back at Yukawa. That reflected how deep their relationship is, how fantastic! In a previous interview, director Nishitani said that for him, it's not like the two of them have absolutely nothing romantic going on between them. Yukaoru fans on twitter were delighted. What does Fukuyama-san think about Utsumi when he plays Yukawa-sensei? Is it something like what the director says, with a bit of romantic feelings? Have you discussed this with Shibasaki-san? Please enlighten us. Nine years is too much; I want to see the next movie soon. I hope that the cast will remain the same. F: Regarding the possibility of a sequel, we can only rely on your support to make it happen, so please continue to support us! But this romance thing is Fuji TV's best trick for Monday 9pm dramas: this will-they-won't-they, are they in love trick. That's how TBS staff comment on it. S: Monday 9pm dramas are always like that. F: I mean, the best Monday 9pm dramas in the past are like that. And what you're asking is if Yukawa has romantic feelings for Kaoru, and how I play his character in response to that, right? Well my answer is, (pause) no comment. S: HAHAHA Now that's rare, normally you answer everything and anything. F: Because some of that is sacred and forbidden, things that I can't say. S: Fair enough, cuz if you said anything, people would follow your interpretation, whether you say there are or there aren't romantic feelings. But now, at least we have space to imagine. F: I think this is the most suitable way to deal with it at this stage. For example, Detective Conan fans think that Amuro and Akai like each other and are actually dating. S: Well imagination is free. F: Yes, one can enjoy media like that. S: But if you compare it that way, instead of Yukawa and Kaoru, it would be Yukawa and Kusanagi. F: This is another way to enjoy it. (laughter) S: They work even better as a couple! F: Well, even if that's not the direction we're heading into, many people do want to know about the relationship between Yukawa and Utsumi. We might be able to shed light on that in the future? S: Maybe. F: Yes maybe. If there's a sequel. S: That might happen in the original novels. F: Maybe it will, maybe it won't. Can't say for sure.

#fukuyama masaharu #galileo #silent parade #bear2look #is this fu-chan the same fu-chan/ #or is fu-chan short for fukuyama-chan? #hmmmmmmmmmmm #yukaoru #can anyone shed light on the detective conan situation idk wt going on #for bonus: search up the conan theme songs masha and ko did

[levi-supreme]

Which Levi would you rather hang out with on a cloudy day?

Modern, Canon, the one that ties his hair back into a ponytail?

Hiiii and thank you so much for sending me something!!! Knowing me, I can never come to a conclusion or choose between something lol so I guess I'll hang out with Levi across all multiverses 😂 I hope you're ready to hear my verbal diarrhoea and psychoanalysis hehe.

Personally, I always feel that canon Levi would hate the rain because of various reasons, and the modern Levi in my head that I base my writings on actually likes cloudy days. I've actually talked about canon Levi and the rain here, and here, and here are my modern!au Levi headcanons, so you can read more about them if you like!!

Now, moving on to my psychoanalysis~

Canon!Levi

I feel that canon Levi would dislike the rain particularly because of living in the Underground. In a place where sunlight is rare, and how the place is overpopulated and dirty, rainy weather would make living there extremely inconvenient. Furthermore, rainy days affect visibility and it affects Levi's work as a thief too.

In addition, Levi lost Isabel and Farlan during a thunderstorm on their very first expedition outside the walls. I feel that everytime Levi sees the rain or the gloomy weather, it reminds him of his pain and loss that day, and how helpless he was because he could've been there with them, but he wasn't. He could have prevented it, but it still happened.

Therefore, to me, canon Levi hates cloudy and rainy days because it reminds him of his loss and probably one of his biggest regrets.

I wouldn't mind hanging out with canon Levi on a cloudy day, but then he might be apprehensive because of what happened in the past, it might take him a while to open up to letting down his guard and enjoy the cloudy skies.

Modern!Levi

The modern au Levi in my head prefers the cloudy days!!! I would like to imagine that Levi doesn't like hot days because the heat pricks his skin and he gets heat rashes pretty easily. He also dislikes perspiring and how glaring the sun is too. However, the only thing he likes when the sun is out is that he can do his laundry.

On the other hand, he prefers cloudy days, or days where the sun is being obscured by the clouds; the kind where it's still sunny, but you can't feel the heat of the sun. Levi enjoys the breeze on cloudy days too, the skies before the rain are his favourite.

I would love to hang out with modern Levi on a cloudy day! It would be nice to take a walk with Levi hand in hand, enjoying the cool breeze. If I were cold, he would grab my hand and place it in his coat pocket 🥰 or you know, maybe wrap his scarf around me or offer me his jacket too <3 or if we are at home, we would probably just cuddle under the blankets, watch some TV, maybe take a nap, or maybe deep clean the entire house too.

Long hair!Levi

Hahaha I'm so sorry but I have no idea which Levi are you referring to over here T_T I hope you don't mean dilf Levi 😂 please enlighten me if you may!!!

Based on the assumption that you're referring to dilf Levi... I would think he enjoys cloudy days too. But!! He would definitely carry an umbrella around along with a plastic bag to keep the wet umbrella 😂

So in conclusion and after so much rambling... which Levi would I choose to hang out with on a cloudy day? My answer is modern Levi 🥰

Ask me something on anon (or not)!

#brujaovermoxy.asks #rei.answers #you're watching: rei is levi's parasite #rei is uwu for levi #i'm so sorry i took so long 😔 #and i'm sorry if i'm not answering your question :( #thank you so much for sending me this <3 #it makes me so happy to talk about levi hehe

[gwen-pleakley]

May Memes - Gwen 🌺

Why you like bugs?

"What’s there NOT to like about bugs?? They’re the most populous type of creatures on this Earth and they’re extremely important to every biosphere out there. We wouldn’t be a PLANET without bugs! Of course, this is a very simplified, non-scientific answer but I wouldn’t want to bore you with the details...unless?”

Are you more of a hopeless romantic or realist?

"Is it wrong to want a bit of romance in your life? Does it always have to be so hopeless?”

What do you do to feel at peace?

"I’d say curling up on the couch with a nice glass of moscato and a really good book is the perfect way to end a long and stressful day.”

Do you collect anything? And what are some hobbies you have?

"Unfortunately, I had to keep things...light when we began moving. But since settling in Redwood Hollow I’ve started quite the jewelry collection! I’m really starting to get into fashion in a way that I wasn’t able to before! As for hobbies, well, I enjoy reading, writing, research. Watching TV, movies...oh! I recently joined the bowling team! It’s been quite the experience!”

Have you ever written a love letter?

"...O-of course I have! To my husband, obviously!” Note to self, write more love letters in case anyone starts investigating.

What do you like most about nature?

"I can’t say there’s a single thing about nature I don’t like. Even all the “bad” things are apart of the cycle of life. If you’d really like to know however, I have a list of ecological publications written by myse-- my very good friend who also happens to be into this kind of thing!”

Where do you feel most at home?

"...Oh, I suppose I’m not sure...we haven’t even been at Redwood Hollow for a year yet but already it’s starting to feel like home! That isn’t silly, is it?”

Do you feel more connected to the moon or the sun?

"While both are very important, I would say I personally identify more with the enlightening and brightening nature of the sun! It is the giver of all life and everything that we love we have the sun to thank for!”

What is your favorite color?

"Green, but more of a light green, a soft green. Mint, maybe?”

Have you ever wished on a shooting star?

"I’ve never seen a shooting star actually...I grew up around too much light pollution. I’d love to see one though! And maybe make a wish.”

Name a movie that makes you genuinely laugh.

"When Harry Met Sally! It’s the quintessential romcom. I just watched it with my husband this past Valentine’s Day, actually!”

What do you enjoy daydreaming about most?

Don’t say me and Javi, don’t say me and Javi, don’t say me and Javi.

“...daydreaming usually leads to anxiety so I try to stay away from it! Stay in the present, as my meditation app always says!”

What’s a smell that reminds you of home?

"Of where I grew up? Hmmm...I’d have to say bleach. My mother was very adamant about keeping the house as clean as possible. She was a little neurotic...so glad I’m not like that!”

Describe the memory of the last time you felt true happiness.

"Oh...well...this past Valentine’s Day was very good,” she said, starting to blush at the hazy memories. “But I shouldn’t go into anymore detail.”

What’s your ideal summer aesthetic?

"OOOOHHHH! I am SO excited for summer, you have no idea! I’ve already bought a bunch of summer dresses, mumus, sandals of all varieties. I have this very large sunhat that I’m just dying to wear and I’m in the market for fashionable sunglasses! While I’d love to go to the beach, I’m perfectly fine spending the summer by the pool!” This would be her first summer since her transition and she was ready to go all out.

Talk about one of your most cherished childhood memories.

"Definitely my first science fair win! I was in the fourth grade and I did a project on the life cycle of a butterfly from the caterpillars we had in our backyard. The thrill of being acknowledged for your academic prowess was one I would become quite addicted to throughout my life. But that first blue ribbon will always hold a special place in my heart.”

Do you believe dreams have meanings or are they completely random?

"You know, I’ve always been curious about the science of dreams! While sometimes they seem very random, I wonder what it is in your brain that makes them the way they are? If you have any recommendations of scientific papers or journals, I’d love to take a look.”

Do you believe in mermaids?

"Why would I believe in mermaids when I could believe in what most likely inspired the lore...SEA COWS! Also known as Sirenians, they are the family of animal that now make up the dugong and the manatee, but there was also another species known as Stellar’s sea cow, which has tragically gone extinct. They were truly wondrous creatures and we have to be vigilant, as many other Sirenian species are also under threat!”

Name a book you don’t mind reading over and over.

“Mind and Nature by Gregory Bateson is the first book on my syllabus--a must read for any aspiring ecologist! Personally, I am partial to anything by Nicholas Sparks.”

#headcanon #meme

[ear-worthy]

What Makes Podcasting So Unique?

 In the last year, almost every news outlet has reported an astonishing number of podcasts in existence. Although reports of three million are common, these clickbait articles fail to realize that the number of active podcasts is substantially lower, maybe slightly over 400,000. According to Apple Podcasts, there are about 250,000 active podcasts and about 70,000 in actual podcast feeds. 

By contrast, there were 449 movies released in 2022, with 2018 being the recent high-water mark at 873. In TV, 2022 saw about 600 scripted TV shows aired on broadcast or streaming. That number will certainly decrease in 2023 and probably 2024 as the streaming bubble has been popped by impatient investors who are suddenly demanding profitability for the huge expenditures made to produce streaming content. Amazon's Lord Of The Rings: Rings Of Power cost $715 million. How many Dr. Pimple Popper type shows could you film and release for that amount of money?

So it already seems obvious that we have our first answer to the question posed on the article title.  

What makes podcasting so unique? First and foremost, it's the sheer number of active podcasts. Yet, podcasting offers so much more to its listeners.

In this article, I'll confine myself to three of the many reasons why podcasting is such a unique and splendid medium.

 There are subjects covered in podcasting that are not in other media.

You can consume podcasts while engaged in other activities.

There is an intimacy and immersive quality with podcast listening that is hard to duplicate

Let's begin with one of podcasting's most enduring strengths.

1. There are subjects covered in podcasting that are not in other media.

In the last five years, movies have been about superheroes and fantasy worlds. Those two subjects have captured 75 percent of all the gross revenue of movies released since 2018. 

It's not a stretch to state that "movies do not come close to depicting the breadth of the human experience." 

For TV, we have a multiverse. One with shows on 90-day fiancées, bitter housewives with swollen lips, and home renovation addicts. Then we have the TV broadcast dramas that are dominated by a law enforcement theme: Police, Forensics, FBI, CIA-adjacent. Streaming TV has the most diverse and actively creative media universe.

Then we have podcasting. The scope of subjects covered is too numerous to mention. Here's the short list: adoption, suicide prevention, sewing, astrology, the publishing industry, climate change (2,000+ podcasts), food history, Billboard chart history, Employee Communications departments, classical music, public speaking skills, happiness (500+ podcasts), nutrition (1,000+ podcasts), entertainment news, kids news, science, whiskey, Hollywood history, and more true-crime dramas than you can imagine.

Clearly, niche media is a signature offering for podcasting to listeners. Just to be clear, there is a distinct difference between niche and fringe. Niche is a guy in Nebraska with a podcast about the history of muscle car engines. Fringe is a podcast from a bunch of like-minded losers who are deluded enough to believe that they are superior to anybody. To them, their eventual takeover of the country is inevitable. Fringe people are about blame and hate. Niche people are about loving an activity and camaraderie. 

A perfect example of a niche podcast is WhiskeyCast, an 18-year-old podcast about whiskey. I am not a whiskey drinker, but listening to several episodes about whiskey blends, upcoming festivals, whiskey news, and testimonials from whiskey lovers was enlightening and energizing.

2. You can consume podcasts while engaged in other activities. 

I don't know about you, dear reader, but I'm not good at watching TV and doing much else. How can you watch The Night Agent on Netflix while cleaning the house and possibly follow what's going on? I watched Game Of Thrones with my phone off and shades drawn, and still missed some of the family drama and political intrigue.

Listening to podcasts offers a similar frictionless experience to audiobooks. It's no secret why audiobooks have been the fastest-growing segment of the publishing industry for the last decade. You can listen to a book while you drive to work, take the train, clean the house, take a walk, workout, reorganize your sock drawer, or just wait for stuff like in the doctor's office, checkout line, or any queue.

People are busy. Today, 23 percent of all households are managed by a single parent. That is the definition of busy, with little time for luxuries like sleep and relaxation. Yet, podcast listening slides seamlessly into the hectic lives of those solo parents.

When the pandemic hit, and people stopped going to work, there was an initial dip in podcast listening. However, that dip lasted only a few weeks, and podcast listening rebounded to levels higher than before the pandemic, even though many people stayed at home. I guess the case can be made that people stuck at home wanted to escape their families, so they donned earbuds or headphones and tuned them out with a podcast. 

Podcasts offer us the convenience of listening during our busy days when we are engaged in other activities. For some, podcasting listening can be therapeutic. 

Listening to podcasts also stimulates our brains in ways that TV, movies, TikTok, and YouTube cannot. When we are consumers of audio and video, our brains are force-fed the entire sensory experience. When we consume audio only, our brains are tasked with constructing images that coincide with the words being said -- as in podcasts or audiobooks.  

3. There is an intimacy and immersive quality with podcast listening that is hard to duplicate.

First, let's acknowledge that reading is an immersive and intimate experience. It's the reason why reading books is centuries old and still going strong despite the naysayers. Podcasting is only two decades old and still losing its baby teeth.

Some media thrive on their social interaction. The movie theater experience is inherently a social mixer, with people reacting to the movies on the screen, and the reactions of the people in the theater.

TV was designed as a family experience in the late 1940s and 1950s, since most households only had one television set. Since TVs now replicate like rabbits in households, and people now use phones and tablets as reception devices, TV has become a more solitary activity. 

Recent Podtrac studies have revealed that podcasts are predominantly listened to via earbuds and headphones. In essence, podcasts and streaming music inhabit the same psychic universe in society, separating people from the external world. 

The days of gigantic speakers in people's homes blasting music from vinyl records have been replaced by wandering humans hermetically sealed inside private listening devices while the outside world goes about its frenetic and violent business.

One warm spring day, I washed, waxed, vacuumed, tire-shined, and silicone-sprayed my Hyundai. The task took two hours, and during that time, I listened to three episodes of the Drilled podcast by Amy Westervelt. During that time and the task, it was just me and Westervelt, as I considered how the enemies of climate change are so powerful and unscrupulous. As my car began to look more presentable again, I reveled in the private world that I inhabited with the podcast, its host, and my car. 

I have a friend who works in downtown Philadelphia and takes the train to work every weekday from South Jersey. Her routine is the same: In the morning, she listens to The Daily podcast. At night, Marketplace. To her, those two podcasts soften the harsh edges of public transit.

******

You're probably wondering why I bothered to write such an obvious piece extolling the well-known virtues of podcasting. 

Here it is. At least two of those aforementioned reasons that make podcasting so unique are in danger. 

First, Spotify and other large companies threaten to crowd out the niche aspect of podcasting with the podcast version of TV lookalikes --  the Chicago, CSI, and Law & Order franchises. Spotify does offer some quality podcasts, but a lady in rural Georgia discussing macramé is beyond their corporate scope. And podcasting needs people like that woman.

Second, video podcasts threaten to transform podcasts into more of a TV / movie media consumption activity where simultaneous activity while podcast listening becomes difficult or impossible. Sure, you can watch /listen to a YouTube video podcast on your public transit commute if you don't mind peeping eyes. If you have the leisure time --  or you're quiet quitting -- you can certainly consume video podcasts. 

But watching several people talk to one another with headphones on is not the remarkable video experience that warrants a transition to the "see-able" instead of the "hear-able."

Finally, the real heroes of podcasting are not the most visible people like Joe Rogan, Ashley Flowers, or certainly not Steve Bannon.  

Podcasting's roots are decidedly populist. It's your next-door neighbor with a podcast on home repair tips. Or your niece with a podcast on women's soccer. 

Podcasting is people you've never heard of -- Matt Gilhooly of The Life Shift, Kyla Sims of Infernal Communications, Robert Peterpaul of The Art Of Kindness, and Evan Stern of Vanishing Postcards -- excelling in their sonic worlds and trying to make the world a better place.

#podcast #podcasting #digital media

[oldguy56-world]

Born in the U.S.A.

I know. It is Wednesday. Where was I on Monday? One of our girls from another province came to visit and was here so I gave my full attention to her. The interns said they would cover for me but when I got back from the airport today and went to the office I found them all there staring at each other. Well not completely as one of them was chewing on the power cord for my laptop. If it wasn't so close to Christmas I would have a word with them. Truth be told once it is past Christmas none of them will remember this in all likelihood so I guess they get a free pass. That aside, on with the blog.

I was watching a biography of one of my favorite bands. The one called the Band. Maybe I like them because they have as much imagination naming things as I do. (When I was a kid I had a dog named Spot. Guess what pattern his fur had) The narrator began by saying they were one of the greatest American bands of all times, the U.S. answer to the Beatles. I almost went through the TV screen at him but luckily I remembered he wasn't actually in there.

In case you are not aware, The Band had five members, 4, Canadians and 1 American. I guess their math tells them that 1 American is greater than 4 Canadians. I know there is an exchange rate but come on please! Must they take credit for everything? I guess we all know the answer to that one. This is not a one time thing, and it is actually built into their laws. Let me enlighten you.

If you were born in another country but moved to the states and lived there for 50 years you are not eligible to become president. If you were born in the states, move away for 50 years and come back, you can become president. Who knew that American sperm and eggs were this important? Maybe Nick Cannon.

America's Sweetheart. Mary Pickford was actually born in Toronto (her real name is Gladys so you can see why they change some names for the movies) She didn't move to the states until she was a teenager. They loved her so they kept her. Called her America's Sweetheart so that no one would suspect she was not from there. Sneaky bastards.

Alexander Graham Bell, listed as one of the greatest American inventors of all time, Born in Scotland, and did all of his research and inventing in Canada. (Brantford actually but they also have Gretzky so they don't need to claim both). He will be an American icon until phones start controlling their owners and then he will be vilified as that Scottish evil man. They won't mention Canada because frankly most of them still believe we are part of their country.

Any tall basketball player from Africa. They get them American citizenship as soon as possible so they can use them in the Olympics. They need to keep their dominance streak going.

Superman. This is a tricky one. As a fictional character he was born on another planet, the brainchild of a CANADIAN cartoonist. (He put the stories in a big American city because he wanted him to fight crime and that made it more realistic, plus he wanted to make a lot of money off of it. I will give him a pass). So we end up with a great American alien hero, but now they want to keep all the aliens out. Go figure. At least based on their laws they can never vote him in to be president which is a shame. I would love to see him make Putin openly weep or crap his pants again.

Ted Cruz. He was born in Calgary but through a loophole, or broken condom his American father put on or something like that he can become president. All I can say is I am glad they made this exception and he is not running for PM up here.

THOUGHT OF THE WEEK: There are lots of wonderful, inventive people that have changed the world. Let's celebrate the diversity of their origin stories.

[ikleesfiction]

Miss Americana

Fandom : Crossover Hawaii Five-0 x Chicago PD TV Word count : 5,610 words Pairing : Steve McGarrett x Danny Williams; Jay Halstead x reader

Summary :  You met Williams-McGarrett family in Los Angeles and they introduced you to Brazilian Jiu-Jitsu. Your boyfriend, Jay Halstead, doesn't know anything about this. Yet.

Author's note :

This is the fourth one shot of "Will you follow through if I fall for you" fic continuation. It would be better if you read it first. But if you don't, here's the quick summary.

This happened after I listened to a few podcasts (1  🞂  2  🞂 3) of Scott Caan and Alex O'Loughlin, passionately talking about Brazilian Jiu Jitsu. 

This fic does not comply to the canon of Hawaii Five-0 or Chicago PD. So if you don't follow one of the other, it should not be a hindrance, I think. Here's hoping that I'm right.

Disclaimer

◢◤

"Would you like another cup of coffee?

You look up from the book in your hand to the waiter addressing you.

"Oh, I would love to. But it's already my fourth cup of the day," You grimace at him. "Maybe I'll take a bottle of water, please? Cold, if you have one."

The waiter grins at you, "Sure thing," then leave with your empty cup of coffee.

You are supposed to meet your friend, Tim, at his house on The Bird Streets to work on a song. However, he got a sudden appointment and asked you to wait for his call to reschedule. So here you are, sitting at a Cafe/Bistro somewhere in Los Angeles, drinking too much coffee.

You check your watch and your phone. It's almost lunchtime, but your phone is still showing nothing. Alright then, you thought to yourself, back to the book. Your eyes immediately find the last paragraph you read on Astrophysics for People in a Hurry.

Five pages later, the waiter puts a bottle of water on your table, "Here it is. You sure you don't want another cup of coffee?" He jokes with you.

You laugh in response, "No, really, thank you."

The waiter leaves with a smile and turns to the table across from yours. That's when you notice somebody's sitting there.

"Good afternoon. Only for two?" The waiter lays two menu cards on the table.

"Four. My husband and daughter are parking the car." The man answers him with a smile. He has a little boy sitting next to him. His son, you guess, since both of them have blond hair. Their noses look similar too.

"Danno, can I have ice cream for lunch?" The boy begs his father, pointing at one of the delightful pictures on the card.

"Hmm, maybe." The father hums his reply. He exchanges a knowing glance with the waiter.

"Do you want anything to drink while you're waiting?"

"Soda!" The boy yells from his chair, who laughs at his father's glare.

"How about two glasses of orange juice?" The father checks to his son before confirming it with the waitress.

"Okay, be right back with your drinks."

After the waiter leaves, the boy begins to prattle about everything to his father. About giraffes at the zoo ("They are so tall like Dad!"), about his favorite ice cream flavors ("Cookie Dough. But I like Kame's shave ice better, Danno"), about swimming at Venice Beach ("There's a lot of people there, Danno. I like our beach more")

The boy doesn't even look like he needs to breathe. You can't help but let out a chuckle. His father looks up at you and shares a grin. "That's great, Charlie," He comments to his son.

You let their conversation become a white noise while you read your book.

At your periphery, you see someone passes by. However, you don't expect a hand to suddenly sneak your phone from the table. Your hand instantly grabs that wrist, trying to stop it from stealing your phone. But the thief forcefully pulls his hand out of your reach and moves away.

Unfortunately for the thief, he runs straight to the father at your neighboring table. The man has no problem flipping the thief over and pushes him to their table. When the thief squirms away from his clutch, the man lifts the thief's elbow high up and turns it behind his back in a very painful lock. The unpleasant sound coming out of the thief's mouth proves how excruciating it is.

The man's eyes wander. Many shocked faces are staring at him, including yours. "It's okay, I'm a cop," He explains.

In contrast to the crowd, the boy looks at his father in awe, gleefully clapping his hands.

"Charlie, why are you clapping? You're not supposed to clap at this. Oh my god, you are just like your father! Happy to see any aggression," The man rants as he takes out a cable tie from his trousers' pocket. You don't even know why he got cable ties in his pocket. He efficiently ties the perp's hands behind his back and forces him to sit.

Only then, the man addresses the crowd again, "Has anyone called 9-1-1?"

"I did. The police are on the way," One of the cafe's staff squeaks from the door, with a phone still in her hand.

"Excellent! Did you hear that? Your ride would be here soon," The man tightly squeezes the thief's shoulders. The thief could only reply with an agonized grunt.

Everybody else resumes their activities with a sporadic look to their table.

The boy picks up the stolen phone from the floor. It fell near his foot during the short scuffle. "Danno," He hands your phone over to his father.

"Ah, thanks, Charlie," The man ruffles the kid's hair and kisses the top of his head.

"I believe this is yours?" The man returns the phone to you. "Hope it's still working?" He cringes at the spiderweb marks on the phone screen.

"Thanks. Probably not. But it's alright." You smile at the man and offer to shake his hand, "Y/N Y/LN, thanks again for helping me,"

The man takes your hand, "Hey, no big deal. Danny Williams. And this is my son, Charlie," Danny brings Charlie in front of him. You extend your hand to Charlie as well.

All of a sudden, you hear voices yelling from behind you. "Danno! Charlie!"

You look back to see a tall, dark, imposing man and a beautiful teenage girl rushing in your direction. Charlie shouts back at them, "Daddy! Gracie!"

So you guess they must be Danny's husband and daughter.

This new man drops down to Charlie's level and checks on him, trying to see if he's injured. "Are you okay? Charlie?"

"Dad! Dad! Danno was soooo cool! He pushing and then flipping and then that man went aaargh!" Charlie re-tells the scene to his father, holding his elbow behind his back to show him.

Couldn't really understand his son's story, the man asks his husband to elaborate, "Danny, what's happening here? Why are you arresting this man?"

"I'm not arresting anybody, Steve. We don't have jurisdiction to make an arrest, you know? Since we are in LA, not Hawaii? I'm just holding this man until LAPD shows up," Danny clarifies to his husband, Steve.

"But why?" Steve is still confused.

"This guy here, what's your name?" Danny barks at the thief. But his mouth stays glued. "Really? Would you prefer my ex-SEAL here asking you the question?" Danny gestures in Steve's direction.

Steve stands tall. His hands are folded in front of his chest. His biceps bulge in his tight t-shirt. The thief's face turns green, looking fearful. Steve's scowl was probably not helping either.

"Danny?? What's going on here?" Steve begins to lose his patience.

"What?? It's no big deal, babe!" Danny yells back at Steve. "This guy here tried to nick this woman's phone. I'm just helping her," Danny motions in your direction.

"Y/N, here's my husband, Steve McGarrett, and our daughter, Grace," Danny continues to introduce you to his family. You shake their hands and exchanging simple pleasantries.

"As I said, I just helped Y/N to get her phone back. Now we are waiting for LAPD," Danny ends his explanation.

Shortly a police car comes, and two officers quickly take their statements. Initially, the police officers are bemused to find the thief already sat with his hands tied behind his back. After Danny explains that he is a Detective from Honolulu PD and how he prevented the attempted theft, the police officers understand the situation. They ask if you'd like to press charges on Tom Norris, that's the thief's name according to his ID. Considering you're not hurt, you decline on pressing charges. The police are gone with the thief sooner than you expected.

"Can I treat you lunch for your trouble? Shoot! A super late lunch?" You corrected after checking your watch.

"Hey, don't worry, it's no trouble at all," Danny says to you with a big smile.

"No, no, seriously. You guys were on holiday, I guess. But still bothered to help me. Lunch is the least I can do."

Before long, they arrange to get a table for five and talk a lot during the meal.

◢◤

"So you guys are from Hawaii? That's nice!" You tell the family.

"See, Danno? That's what you're supposed to say about Hawaii. You're the only one who describes Hawaii as a pineapple-infested hell hole," laments Steve to his husband.

"I'm just telling the truth, babe. How about you, Y/N? Where are you from?" Danny tries to find out.

"Originally from The Netherlands, Amsterdam. But I moved to Chicago last year," You reply.

"Now that, Steve, is a city that would appreciate seasonal changes," Danny nods his approval of Chicago.

"Only you, Danno, who whines about constant sunshine." Steve grumbles.

Grace and Charlie don't react much to their parents' bickering. Too used to their silliness. But you still find it quite funny.

"So you guys are here for vacation?" You ask the family.

"Kind of. We are on holiday. Also, we are visiting the colleges here for Grace, who will graduate high school next year," Steve throws his right arm around Grace's shoulder.

"Yes, we are on an excursion to prove to Grace that LA universities are not better than the University of Hawaii," Danny quips from Steve's left.

Grace whines at his father, "Danno..."

"Danny here doesn't want his children to be far away from him," Steve enlightens you. "But I think going to school in LA would be better than The Netherlands. Wouldn't it, babe?" Steve winks at Grace.

"Do not joke about that, Steven!" Danny elbows his husband hard.

Grace looks thoughtful for a moment, "Y/N, did you go to college in the Netherlands? What do you think my chance to study there?"

"Gracie, can I come with you to This Otherlands?" Charlie innocently chirps to his sister.

Steve is laughing so loud, even after Danny punches his arm.

"What about you, Y/N? What are you doing in LA? Are you on vacation too?" Danny questions you after the laughter receded.

"I'm here for work. Most of the time, I'd do it remotely from Chicago. But sometimes I have to make the trip here or to Amsterdam," You tell them.

"What do you do?"

"I'm a music producer," You give a simple answer.

"What instruments do you play?" Steve is curious. "Guitar?"

"Mostly piano and synthesizer. I do play guitar, but I'm just an okay guitar player. I wish I could play better,"

"Dad plays guitar too!" Charlie happily declares as he points at Steve.

You cheer at Charlie's enthusiasm, "Does he? That's great!"

"Yeah, he plays very well. Maybe Dad can teach you to play better," Charlie directs you.

"Oh, yes, that would be awesome," You wholeheartedly agree with Charlie, as the rest of the table laughing at the idea of Steve teaches music.

◢◤

"Danny, I was wondering if you could explain something to me," You turn to the man.

"Shoot," Danny nods as he puts down his juice glass.

"The arm lock that you did to the thief. Where did you learn that? Did Steve teach you that?" You ask him, genuinely want to know.

"Well, even though Steve here was the Navy SEAL," Danny glares at his husband, who replies with a smirk, "I have been working as a cop for more than 20 years now. I know some moves too,"

"But that's not a cop's move," You contradict him.

"How do you know any cop's moves?" Danny confronts you back.

"My boyfriend is a cop in Chicago," You give Danny a sheepish smile.

"Ah, I see. Did your boyfriend teach you self-defense?"

"He did. I'm nowhere near good as Jay. But it's a start," You answer Danny.

"Of course. If he's not good at it, then he's not a good cop," Danny comments without sounding too arrogant.

"Jay also taught me about guns. Personally, I don't like it, but he needs me to know about it, especially gun safety. So..." You shrug.

Danny nods his understanding, "Yeah. Be glad that he doesn't bring home grenades or other explosives," Danny gives Steve a stink eye. "Unlike some Super!SEAL here,"

Steve is immune to that look. It doesn't seem to affect him anymore.

You smile at their interaction, "Jay was an Army Ranger. After he came back, he went to Police Academy,"

"Really?" Steve looks interested.

"Oh, here we go," Danny sighs at his husband.

Steve grins but decides not to comment on it any further. He goes praising Danny instead.

"But Danny is being too modest here. He is a great fighter. Sometimes he's even better than me. Which lots of people find it surprising, considering I was a SEAL,"

"and don't you forget it, babe," Danny smirks at Steve, who returns it with a chaste kiss.

You sigh internally. Looking at the lovely couple made you miss your boyfriend, Jay.

"In all seriousness," Danny begins, "I practiced Jiu-Jitsu since high school. That's where the moves come from," He pauses to sip on his drink.

"I got my Blue Belt when I entered The Police Academy. For me, I think, I learned how to fight better in Jiu-Jitsu than what they taught us there," Danny continues.

"Do you also teach it to Grace and Charlie?" You ask the parents.

"Yeah. Danny taught them both as early as possible. Grace already got her Yellow Belt when we first met. Now she is working for her Purple Belt," Steve brags. Danny also looks so proud. Grace, though, tries so hard not to roll her eyes at her parents.

"Me too! I will get my Yellow Belt soon! Right, Danno?" Charlie exclaims.

"Of course you are kiddo. After that, you surely can beat your Dad here," Danny ruffles Charlie's hair. Steve offers his palm for a high five, but Charlie punches it instead. He giggles when Steve is faking to be hurt by Charlie's tiny fist.

"Do you think I could learn it too?" You inquire to Danny.

Danny and Steve look at each other. You're waiting for their answer, hoping that they will agree.

Before they decide anything, Grace interrupts, "We can go check out the place that Sensei Egan told us, Danno."

"Yeah, that's a great idea," Steve agrees to his daughter's suggestion. "We can check that dojo for Grace, meeting the instructor. Maybe could show some moves too for y/n,"

"Okay then. Grace, share the dojo address with y/n. We can meet you there tomorrow morning, what do you say, y/n?" Danny asks you.

You're supposed to fly back to Chicago next afternoon, but what the hell, you are very interested in this offer. "Yes, sure. If you don't mind me crashing your holiday plan again?"

"No, not at all. We need to check out that place anyway." Steve waves off your worry.

Grace passes her phone to you. "You can puy your number there. I will forward you the address,"

You tap your number to Grace's phone before groaning when you remember that your phone is dead. "Could you e-mail me instead? I don't think I could replace my phone soon,"

Danny doesn't even try to hold his laugh at your poor luck.

◢◤

The next day, you take an Uber to the gym. No, it's The Dojo. You correct yourself. When you step in, Charlie is shouting at you from across the room. "Y/N!" Standing next to his sister, Charlie crazily waves at you, worried that you could not see him.

You remove your shoes, placed them accordingly at the remarked spot. Walking towards Charlie and Grace, you see the Williams-McGarrett clan wear similar outfits with other people in The Dojo. The only differences between them are their belts. Danny wears a Black Belt with a red stripe, while Steve wears a Brown Belt. Grace has Blue Belt, and Charlie has a White one. Knowing that you will do some workout, you wear a black t-shirt and training pants. Definitely a contrast in a room full of jiu-jitsu outfits.

Danny and Steve are talking to a guy on the other side of the room. This guy has a Black Belt with more stripes than Danny's, indicating that he is the instructor here.

"Hey, guys. Good morning," You greet Grace and Charlie. They reply with a big smile.

"Just out of interest, do you guys always bring your uniform on your holiday?" You gesture to Grace's clothes.

Grace laughs at your question, "It is called Gi. Yes, we are always bringing them along on holiday," She laughs again at your shocked face. "No, I'm joking. It's because we know we will visit this dojo, so we have our Gi with us,"

Soon Danny and Steve come over to your side. "Hi, y/n. So I talked to Sensei Marcus there," Danny gestures to the guy he spoke to. "We are going to follow their training for today. You can watch from the side if you're not sure you want to do it. The first hour would be the class for Kids and Teens,"

You see Grace and Charlie lining up in the center of the room with other children. They seem to be divided by belts instead of age.

"The next hour would be the adult class," Danny pauses for a moment. "If you want my suggestion, I encourage you to join the Teens class. I hope you don't feel insulted by that."

You chuckle at his words, "Not at all. I understand,"

"If it's too much, don't hesitate to stop and move aside. Everyone will understand," Steve adds.

You exhale softly, readying yourself, "Okay," before joining the line.

The first fifteen minutes, they start with stretching. So far, you have no problems with it. You practice Yoga for the last few years. You know how to stretch.

The next one, they teach you how to fall correctly. Which turns out to be a hard thing to do. At first, an instructor's assistant helps you. After a few moments, she moves away to help others. But you're still not doing it right. So Danny pulls you aside and teaches you privately for the rest of the hour.

You fall so many times until it tired you out. You cannot even get up from the mat. Your shoulders would have been bruised with so many times you landed incorrectly.

"Still interested to learn this?" Danny grabs your hand to help you get up.

Even though the lesson exhausts you, you feel great. You learn a lot, even from doing the same thing over and over again. "Hell yeah!" You grin at Danny.

"Crazy woman!" Danny pats your shoulders. Right where it hurts the most. You can't help but flinch away.

"Hurt, wasn't it? Why don't you go sit down on the outside of the mat with Charlie?"

Charlie sits on one side of the mat, a bottle of water in his hand. He is watching Grace, who has her hands on Steve's Gi, trying to throw Steve down.

Danny silently pays attention to his husband and daughter on the mat. But you can see his hands slightly move as if he's the one sparring.

Shortly, Grace has a chance to push Steve. Steve lost his balance for a moment before countering her attack. Grace would've fallen down hard if Steve didn't hanging to Grace's Gi so tight to slow her fall.

"That's great, Grace," Steve says to his daughter as he helps her up. They bow to each other to end the spar. Danny is clapping from outside the mat, "Good job, Monkey,"

Of course, you and Charlie follow Danny's example to cheer for Grace.

You still sit on the side of the mat, now also accompanied by Grace. You watch the next class practice, where Danny and Steve spar with other students for about an hour.

After the class is done, Steve taps on Danny's shoulder, "Danny, could you help me with this move?" He nods in the direction of the mat.

Danny responds with rolling eyes at his husband's antics.

Grace runs commentary in the background, "Dad didn't actually need help from Danno. However, you're not allowed to ask a higher belt to spar with. It's a sign of disrespect. But Dad and Danno often work differently between each other,"

You see Danny and Steve taking place at a ready position. It takes time before anybody falls, or one locks each other. They move fluidly. When one throws the other, they quickly bring them down along then keep them in a lock. The locks are soon countered, and they back up again. The great thing is they look like they enjoy sparring with each other. They share a laugh whenever someone throws the other or someone holds the other in a lock. You find that very interesting.

The sparring ends when Danny makes a grappling move that Steve cannot counter, so he has to tap out.

After the sparring, Steve sits back with you and his kids while Danny goes over to Sensei Marcus. Steve asks your opinion about Jiu-Jitsu, whether you're still interested to learn it.

"Very much, yeah. The first thing I will do once I'm back in Chicago is to find a Dojo," You excitedly tell Steve.

"Well, lucky for you, Sensei Marcus here knows a lot of Jiu-Jitsu instructors," All of a sudden, Danny joins your conversation. Sensei Marcus stands beside him.

"Sure, if you want to keep learning Jiu-Jitsu, I will give you some references of my fellows in Chicago," Marcus informs you.

"That would be awesome!"

Marcus shakes your hand, "Good luck!" and moves to shake hands with the rest of the Williams-McGarrett family. "Thanks for visiting our dojo. Please come again whenever you're in LA,"

They all look tired, but their smiles beam as bright as Hawaiian sunshine.

◢◤

Two weeks later, in Chicago,

You see your boyfriend's truck parked in front of your house as you walk home from the bus stop. You walk much slower than you used to. Your body is hurting all over the place, but you feel elated.

The day after you came home from Los Angeles, Jay was caught in a hard case. He had to fly out to New York and liaised with NYPD SVU to solve it.

You missed him a lot, for sure. Jay called you whenever he could for these past two weeks. Texted you every day too. But you have not got the chance to tell Jay about your new interest in Jiu-Jitsu.

After your last trip to LA, you promptly checked out the Dojo that Sensei Marcus referred to you. You were thrilled to find out that it's only fifteen minutes bus ride from your house.

You met with one of the instructors there and asked for a private class. Because that's what Danny advised you to do. "After you have a better understanding of the lessons, then I want you to go train with other people at the dojo. But for the first five or six months, you might've been better with one-on-one lessons,"

The instructor, Professor Louisa, is delighted to provide. You work on a schedule three to four times a week. The professor initially suggested only two meets in a week. But considering your occasional trip abroad for work, you prefer to do more lessons when you're in town.

This is the third week you've been learning jiu-jitsu in Chicago. Scraps and bruises are inevitable. Jay would freak out if he saw them before you could explain to him.

Jay's flight back from New York landed about two hours ago. He must've been coming directly to your place from the O'Hare. The house smells amazing when you enter the room. Following your nose leads you to the kitchen. You find your boyfriend pulling out what seems to be garlic bread from the oven, "Hey, babe. You're back!"

"Hey, you! Perfect timing!" Jay secures the tray aside before stepping closer to you. He puts one hand on your waist, the other one on your back. Moving even closer to kiss you.

His passion makes you forget your bruises for a moment. When Jay pushes you playfully, your shoulder hits the nearest wall. You instantly cry out in pain. "Argh!"

"What's wrong?" Jay stops everything he's doing to you right away.

"Nothing, I just got some bruises," You rub the pain from your shoulder.

"How come?" Jay begins to take off your t-shirt to check on the bruises, but you move away from his grasp.

"Hold on. Let me take a shower. I must've been rank from sweat. Then I'll tell you everything," You kiss Jay one more time before going to the bedroom.

As you eat the pasta primavera that Jay made, you ask him about his case in New York, "How was it?"

"It's done. We did what we have to do,"

Not interested in talking about his case, Jay interrogates you instead, "So, where did you get the bruise? I swear, I only left the city for two weeks, and you're already in trouble," Jay shakes his head.

"I'm not! I just joined this gym. Dojo, I meant. I'm taking Jiu-Jitsu lessons!" You cheerfully tell Jay.

"You what?" Jay pauses from drinking his wine.

So you told Jay the whole story. About how someone tried to snatch your phone when you're in LA. How you met the Williams-McGarrett family from Hawaii. How they got you into jiu-jitsu.

"It's so fun, Jay. Yeah, sure, I got bruises and scraps. But whenever I got stuck with my work, I go have a practice at the dojo, and then I come home feeling energized," You confess to your boyfriend.

"Really?" Jay looks at you, disbelieving.

"Uhuh," You nod as you swallow your spaghetti. "You know what, you should come and see the dojo. It might interest you too,"

"I know about martial arts, babe. I taught you how to punch, remember?" Jay reminds you.

"Yes, you did," You say in giggles, "Professor Louisa said she won't teach me how to punch,"

"Of course, Jiu-jitsu has a different approach than other martial art, say karate. Or boxing," Jay puts down his fork on the empty plate. "You sure you enjoy it?"

You hold Jay's hand and look into his eyes, "I am. This is something I want to do seriously, Jay. I admit part of it comes from you and your job. Like you always said, I need to be able to defend myself. Because you think I could get drag into your case one day,"

Jay puts his other hand on top of yours, looking somehow regretful, "Babe..."

"No, no. But I also do this for myself. Even though my body hurts, I feel great about myself. I feel more confident. It's really inspiring,"

Jay brings your hand to his lips, "Okay then, as long as you're happy with it. But I'm still going to take you to the gun range,"

You roll your eyes in response, "Of course, you will,"

◢◤

A week later, Jay walks up to The Dojo on the second floor. Someone greets him at the entrance, "Hey, man. Can I help you?"

"I suppose to pick up my girlfriend. She is training with..." Jay tries to remember the instructor's name. "Louisa?"

"Ah, yes, Professor Louisa. You must be y/n's boyfriend. I'm Professor Andy, the head of this dojo," The man offers his hand.

"Jay Halstead," Jay shakes Andy's hand.

"I think she will finish in ten minutes. You wanna see her practice?"

"Sure. If it would not be disturbing?" Jay hesitates.

"Not at all. Y/n is the only one in there right now," Andy directs Jay inside the dojo. He asks Jay to remove his shoes before stepping into the room.

Jay watches his girlfriend silently. He winces a couple times when you fall down. But he is amazed to see you immediately stand up again.

"She's resilient, your woman is,"

Jay chuckles at Andy's remark, "Yes, she is,"

Shortly after you bow to your instructor, you see Jay standing on the side with Professor Andy.

You walk towards them with a smile, "I see you met my boyfriend, Prof,"

"I did, yeah," Andy nods. "I don't think Jay would be interested in jiu-jitsu, though," He comments.

"Correction, I'm not interested to see you got thrown down repeatedly," Jay points out.

"Hey!" You hit Jay's arms as both Professors laugh at you.

"But that's how we are supposed to learn. If you don't know how to fall, you won't get back up again," Louisa says serenely.

Andy hums his agreement before ushering you out. "Alright, get out of here, you lovebird,"

When you're in the locker room, changing your Gi, Jay approaches Andy again. But before Jay could say anything, Andy hands a leaflet to him.

"Y/N told me you're a police officer. You might be interested in these classes,"

Jay takes it with a laugh, "Thanks, man. I'll check it out," He puts the leaflet on his jacket pocket and pulls out his card.

"If anything happens when Y/N is here. Or if you need anything I can help with, please give me a call," Jay sounds solemn.

Andy takes the card, "Don't worry, man. We take good care of our students here,"

"I know," Jay nods.

Soon you come out with a gym bag on your shoulder. "See you next week, Prof!"

Andy waves to the couple, "Bye, y/n. See you again, Jay!"

◢◤

Two years later,

You step out of the record store in Pilsen empty-handed, failing to find the vinyl you're looking for. You start walking west to the bus stop when you hear a commotion ahead.

You see a guy pushing people out of his way. He keeps looking behind his back like he's running from something.

"Police! Get out of the way!" You hear other voices shouting.

So this guy seems to be running from the police, you thought to yourself.

The man tries to shove you aside, but your reflex is much better. Your hands instantly grab the front of his shirt. When he tries to push you away, your right foot finds his inner left calf and sweeps him down.

When he tries to move away from your grasp, you lean down and grip his right wrist tightly with your right hand. You put your right elbow beside his right ear while your left elbow is placed underneath his elbow. Your left-hand moves to hold your right wrist from below his right hand. His arm is essentially locked when your left bicep snugs against his right tricep. You raise your elbow slightly from the surface. The more he wiggles his way out, the higher you raise his elbow from the surface, the more painful the lock is.

You hear an impressed whistle from above. When you look up, you find Jay and Hailey standing in front of you. Jay gets a huge grin on his face while Hailey is sporting a shocked look.

"Nice takedown, babe," Jay compliments you.

"Thanks. You might wanna take over from here, though," You say to your boyfriend as you hear few more steps rushing towards you.

You loosen the lock after you are sure Jay gets his hand on the perp. He grabs the suspect up from the floor and pushes him towards the wall.

You find a hand extends in front of your face, offering to help you stand up. You look up to see it was Hailey. You take her hand with a soft thanks.

Once you're back on your feet, you look around to see the other members of the Intelligence Unit staring at you. Adam, Kim, and Kevin are mirroring Hailey's initial look of surprise. Jay's boss, Hank Voight, looks impassive as always. But you catch an amused twitch at one corner of his lips.

"Man, at least give me time to feel my hand again! That bitch could break my arm, you know!" you hear the perp complaining when Jay prepares to cuff him.

Without saying anything in response, Jay folds the perp's wrist inside. The perp yells even louder because of the wristlock.

Kevin moves to take the man away from Jay before any further damage could happen. He ushers the perp right away to a nearby cop car.

Jay turns to check on his girlfriend, "You okay?"

"Yeah, I'm good." You nod back at him.

"I didn't know you could do that, Y/N," Hailey tells you. "You never tell me that your girlfriend practiced any martial arts," She continues to slap Jay's shoulder.

You answer with a sheepish smile, "It's kinda new,"

"Blue Belt in Jiu-Jitsu is not "kinda new" babe," Jay elbows you playfully.

The team boss pats your shoulder once before walking back to his car, "Good job, Y/LN,"

Kim, who's partnered up with Voight today, quickly follows. But not before inviting you for drinks, "You have to tell me all about this over drinks!"

"See? Even Voight agrees. We'll make a cop-out of you soon, Y/N," Adam offers his fistbump to you.

You meet his with your fistbump but shake your head, laughing, "Not in a million years, Ruzek,"

He only replies with his laugh and walks towards Kevin and the perp.

Jay puts his arm around your shoulders with a huge smile, "C'mon, Kev and Ruz can take care of the perp for a while. Hailey and I will drop you home."

#fanfiction #h50 #chicago pd tv #steve mcgarrett x danny williams #jay halstead x reader #hawaii five-0 fic #h50 fic #chicago pd fic #jay halstead fic #reader #danny williams #charlie williams #steve mcgarrett #grace williams #jay halstead #hailey upton #kim burgess #adam ruzek #kevin atwater #hank voight #WYFTIIFFY #one shot #my writing #crossover #cross over

[someonestolemyshoes]

Off the Record

Hello!! I am super excited to finally post my entry for @levihan-drabbles competition :D The prompt was super interesting and I had a tonne of fun writing this one! 

The prompt I received was: Hange posts a picture of Levi somewhere and it becomes a meme.

(For those curious, this is the meme I used for inspiration) 

Hange pushed her plate across the table and grinned at him. "Levi! Fancy seeing you here! To what do I owe the pleasure?"

Levi's lip curled.

"You know what," he said. Hange braced her elbows on the table and rested her chin atop her knotted fingers.

"Enlighten me."

Colour rose in Levi's cheeks. For a moment, Hange felt a little guilty. For all Levi's grumbling and grunting, Hange had never seen him angry before.

"That bullshit article."

"Ah. Was there a problem?"

Hange met Moblit in a small cafe a little way down the road from the newsroom. She was in good spirits—her morning had been productive; she'd made steady headway with research for her next interview, finished the final edits for a few smaller tabloid pieces she'd been meaning to brush up, attended three short, perfunctory meetings on tedious company policy, and laid the groundwork for another exciting interview opportunity.  

She felt good. And now she had the pleasurable prospect of a hearty lunch, a passable cup of coffee, and perhaps best of all, Moblit's company. His company, and his camera.

Hange threw herself into the seat opposite Moblit the moment she spotted him, hunched over his laptop in a corner of the cafe. He lifted his coffee cup just in time for Hange to clatter against the table, the thin metal frame rattling precariously. She offered him a sheepish grin.

"Sorry," she said, and then, "got anything exciting?"

"I don't know about exciting. Interesting, maybe, but no breaking news."

Hange flagged down a passing waitress with one hand, and waved Moblit off with the other. "Doesn't matter, doesn't matter," she said, then paused to order a drink and her favourite sandwich. "Tell me anyway."

"I got a tip-off from a waiter at Sina's."

Hange's eyes sparkled behind her glasses. She sat forward in her chair, folding her arms on the table top as she leaned closer. "Who?"

"Take a guess."

Hange grinned at him. Moblit was not one to play coy; he did his job and did it well, and reported his findings efficiently. To leave her to question it meant one of two things; he had photographed someone very high profile indeed, or it was somebody Hange was, for better or for worse, well acquainted with.

Or perhaps, if she were lucky, it was both.

"Let me see him, then."

**

Hange had taken far too much time in the cafe with Moblit. He had given her a rundown of all the details he'd gathered during his field work that morning, and shown her through his extensive photo gallery. It was impressive, the kind of archive Moblit could cultivate with only a 45 minute breakfast window.

Hange had been delighted. Moblit was right; it wasn't breaking news, nothing particularly thrilling, but there was a corner of the Internet, Hange knew, that would delight in a trashy little article just like this. Something quick and simple to bulk up the social media feed for the afternoon.

Plus, there was a series of pictures Moblit had snapped, a cluster he'd thought to be of no real merit, that Hange simply could not pass up.

She could lay down no facts with a story like this one. There was no hard-hitting investigative journalism to be had, but she could at least offer some speculation based on her knowledge of the subjects involved, and spin a tale juicy enough to get people talking.

It took little time at all to put the article together. Hange scribbled up an outline for the contents—the location; Sina's in downtown Hizuru, a luxurious restaurant serving five star meals at every hour of the day. High in quality, sickeningly steep in price. The time of day; 9am. To the best of Hange's knowledge, this was rather out of character for the subject. He was an early riser, but according to their interview last March pending the premiere of his newest movie, he wasn't the type to eat much at all before lunch time.

And then, the company. Eren Yeager was a relatively well-known actor, barely an adult at nineteen. He starred in his first role a decade earlier, and had seen commercial success in multiple movies and TV shows ever since. He had been something of a prodigy in his younger years, bold and precocious, possessing a natural talent many actors years his senior couldn't even hope for. As Hange understood it, he had recently hit a rather troublesome phase. An interesting line of inquiry, but despite his talent and his fame, Eren's presence was simply a cameo, compared to the subject of the article Hange was drawing up.

Levi Ackerman.

Levi is a fan favourite and a media delight. He's attractive no doubt, and his performance in any and every role is almost always met with critical acclaim. Outside of his career, however, he's an elusive thing, silent in any matters pertaining to his private life. He avoids any public event like the plague, and rarely shows his face at premieres or award ceremonies if he can possibly avoid it. He gives interviews only when required by some contractual obligation or other, or else when the journalist in question is so painfully persistent that it is simply easier to give in than to keep fighting.

Little of his personal life is known, but it is impossible for someone in Levi's position to avoid interacting with anybody at all, and even the great Levi Ackerman is not above scrutiny.

There are rumours. Several of them, accounts from fellow cast members, from staff, from directors, and even Erwin, his manager, has alluded more than once to Levi's sour disposition. He is prone, Hange has heard, to fits of anger, and is easily disgruntled by minor inconveniences. His dislike of anything unclean or untidy is the stuff of legends—Hange has seen this first hand, at their very first interview. He had entered the room, scowled at the chair before sitting in it, and given Hange a thorough once over before announcing, with no hint of humour, "your glasses are filthy."

Hange had found him both fascinating and quite delightful, in his own strange way. When he acts, Levi sounds eloquent; he is a master of emotive performance, wringing the last drops of anger, despair, or grief out of each and every word, or else injecting the perfect giddy jitter, or a tremor of humour when the scene called for it. As soon as the cameras stop rolling, though, Levi's tone becomes flat, and without a script, his words are clumsy and crass. He communicates poorly, quick to throw insults and crude remarks. Hange has interviewed him a number of times—she counts herself very lucky that Levi will consent to her requests without too much fuss, these days—and each time she finds herself spending half of their time together translating his answers into something a) family friendly, and b) understandable to the everyday reader.

There is nothing for Hange to translate this time. Moblit managed to speak to the waiter after Levi and Eren had vacated in hopes of gleaning any small tidbit of knowledge regarding their conversation, but the venture had been hopeless. The pair had grown silent upon the approach of any staff member, and spoke in tones too hushed for anyone nearby to hear. They learned nothing they couldn't extrapolate for themselves from Moblit's pictures; Eren looked sheepish, avoiding Levi's gaze in favour of staring into his drink, while Levi—

Levi looked furious.

Every picture featured his signature frown, which, in and of itself wasn't enough to assume Levi to be in any mood besides neutral, but some of the photos show a hint of bared teeth or pursed lips, with his brows pulled lower than normal, the space between them deeply creased. Hange found herself curious as both a journalist and as an acquaintance. They may not be friends, but Hange liked to think she knew Levi a little better than most people, at least. She could find nothing in their past interactions to suggest any relationship with Eren beyond the strictly professional. They had over a decade between them, and though they had worked together on more than one set, neither party had ever said anything to insinuate so much as a friendly attitude between them.

There was no resolution to her queries to be easily found. And luckily for Hange, this particular piece didn't require any. It was a gossip article, something spicy, jam-packed with buzzwords, what-if's and more questions than answers, designed to make people wonder. Levi's name in the title would be enough to draw people in; Eren's name was an added bonus. But the star of the show was Moblit's photography. Hange arranged the images she had chosen in a grid. In context, the pictures were intriguing, depicting a particularly ferocious part of Levi and Eren's exchange. Out of context, they looked a little ridiculous. Both would bring readers onto their home page.

Satisfied with her work, Hange queued the finished article for review, and turned her attention back to her schedule.

**

The article launched mid-afternoon. Hange watched, somewhat satisfied, as it was received much as she had expected it to be. The activity on their Twitter account skyrocketed, the tweet in question garnering more likes, retweets and replies in the hour after it's post than any other they’d dropped in the last month.

Hange had allowed it to slip from her mind after the first hour or so. She received praise from her bosses, and a text from Moblit, jokingly demanding she pay him even more handsomely for his work than she already had, and her cousin had called her in the evening on a quest for insider gossip she could share with her friends, but that had been the end of it. Hange thought of it no more until early the following morning, when she had stopped by the quiet little cafe beneath her flat for breakfast and her favourite coffee.

She had been polishing off her pancakes when the bell above the door chimed. She had paid little attention to the newcomer, until a shadow passed over her table, and a familiar voice said, "Oi, shitty glasses."

Hange looked up to see Levi Ackerman himself standing over her, his face twisted in a scowl.

There are perks of being reasonably acquainted with Levi. Hange always gets to conduct his interviews, and Levi only ever turns her down if her request is unreasonable. Like that time she demanded he meet her at this very coffee shop for "just a quick piece, about the cameo you did for the new season of Titans", only to show him she'd bought a new pair of glasses—"look, all clean!"—and, when pressed, admitted there was no interview at all. He had been far more hesitant to indulge her in smaller affairs after that, but Hange was still lucky enough to be his only regular interviewer after big releases.

More interviews means more commission for Hange, and more high profile work with other celebrities. Yes, being acquainted with Levi has its bonuses.

But it also has its downsides. Namely, that Levi will not hesitate to turn up at her regular coffee shop to berate her after she has posted some complete and utter wank at his expense.

Hange pushed her plate across the table and grinned at him. "Levi! Fancy seeing you here! To what do I owe the pleasure?"

Levi's lip curled.

"You know what," he said. Hange braced her elbows on the table and rested her chin atop her knotted fingers.

"Enlighten me."

Colour rose in Levi's cheeks. For a moment, Hange felt a little guilty. For all Levi's grumbling and grunting, Hange had never seen him angry before.

"That bullshit article."

"Ah. Was there a problem?"

"You're a piece of shit, you know that?"

Hange sat back in her chair and sipped at her coffee. Levi's face was full colour now, a pale pink flush from his neck right up to his hairline. Hange gave him a measured look, then kicked out the chair opposite her.

"Sit," she said. "If you have issues, I'd be happy to discuss."

Levi looked for a moment like he'd like nothing more than to strangle her. Then he pulled out the chair the rest of the way, and dropped himself into it.

"I don't give a fuck about the article," he said. "It's shitty gossip anyway."

Hange raised a brow at him. She opened her mouth to continue when, without prompt, a young waitress approached their table, practically bouncing on the spot as she stopped and gave Levi a dazzling smile. Her cheeks were flushed prettily, and Hange would have thought she were simply starstruck, if it weren't for the light of mirth in her eyes.

"Good morning, sir. Can I get you anything?" She gave Levi no chance to respond, before plowing on. "Water? Or tea, perhaps? Forgive me, but you seem a little upset. Might a nice tea calm you down?"

Levi grit his teeth. "No, thank you."

Hange almost apologised to the poor waitress on his behalf, but she didn't look bothered at all by his rudeness. In fact, she had barely turned from the table before she snorted in laughter, and caught her giggles in her hands as she scurried back behind the counter. A second passed, before all three waitresses snickered.

"That," Levi hissed, "is your fault."

Now Hange truly was confused. She furrowed her brow at him. "How does that have anything to do with me?"

"You and your stupid article," he said. Hange looked back to the waitress, who looked to their table again before falling into a fresh fit of giggles. Hange turned back to Levi, a little sympathetic.

"I think she just fancies you."

"You're trying to tell me you really don't know the mess you've caused?"

Hange shook her head slowly. Levi watched her closely, searching for proof of the lie, but Hange's earnestness must have shown through, for Levi's anger abated a little, and he slumped back on his chair.  

In lieu of a verbal explanation, Levi pulled out his phone. He tapped the screen a few times, typed something out, and scrolled a little way, before placing the phone on the table and sliding it towards her. Hange pulled it closer with a frown.

The screen displayed Twitter, and showed the feed beneath the search for Levi's name. Hange scrolled a few posts, eyes widening little by little as she went.

Levi was right. The contents of the article were of little significance at all. The photo grid, however, had gone viral overnight.

It showed four pictures of Levi and Eren, taken in succession. Each one showed only a portion of the back of Eren's head, but Levi's expression in every frame was more animated than Hange had ever seen him outside of his movie scenes, and each was more distraught than the last. Face tight, jaw clenched, teeth bared, with his finger pointed condescendingly in Eren's face. The second last picture shows his brows arched and his lips pressed into a thin line, and the final one—

Hange had laughed at it in isolation when Moblit had shown her. She had fully expected it to garner a few laughs, but she hadn't expected a photograph of Levi furiously slurping his tea to become a meme in less than 24 hours.  

"I see," Hange said, as she calmly slid the phone back to him. "In my defense, you don't help yourself. It wouldn't be half as funny if you didn't hold your tea cup so weird."

"In my defense," Levi snapped, "If you didn't post it online nobody would have anything to laugh at."

Hange crossed her arms on the table and leaned towards him, smiling pleasantly. "In your defense, you wouldn't have been so angry in public if it weren't for whatever Eren had to say. What was that about, by the way? I'm terribly curious."

Hange expected a very Levi response to her prying; a scowl, perhaps a quick kick under the table, an 'It's none of your damn business, four-eyes', if she were lucky.

What she got instead was a haughty sniff, and a gruff, "He's fucking my cousin."

For a moment, they were silent. Either Levi's anger at his new meme status had temporarily disabled the part of his brain that blocked any mention of his private life from slipping past his lips in the wrong company, or something about Eren's indiscretion had rattled him so much, he couldn't keep silent about it. Either way, he looked increasingly surprised—and horrified—at himself for saying it out loud. Hange's eyes were wide, and Levi's were growing wider by the second. Of all the people to slip up to, he had slipped up to her. An entertainment journalist, the one person in his life who thrived on this kind of insider knowledge.

Hange swallowed. Levi was still staring at her like a deer in headlights, no doubt painfully aware that there was no taking back what he had said now.

Hange doesn't take a great deal of pride in what she does. She feels satisfied when her stories receive the reception she'd predicted, validated in her ability to analyse their consumer base and make accurate assumptions about what will hit and what won't, but the work itself feels dirty, at times. An opportunistic scavenger feeding on whatever carrion they can find, no matter how rotten it may be.

This is a perfect opportunity. Salacious details of Levi's interpersonal relationships, right from the horse's mouth. If it were anyone else, Hange would be scribbling every word verbatim in her notebook.

But this is Levi. Levi, who seems jarred by her last article (though Hange will maintain this, at least, is no real fault of her journalism, and also, absolutely hilarious) and was clearly, for whatever reason, incensed by Eren's actions.

Hange brushed her palms over her thighs, and picked a speck of lint from her trousers.

"This is nice, isn't it?" She said, "having breakfast together. We should do it more often. It feels good to just talk, sometimes. Off the record."  

Levi blinked rapidly at her. He opened his mouth, but, still too shocked by his own loose tongue to speak, he said nothing. Hange pulled her phone from her bag and fiddled around with it some, tapping here and there, until she found what she was looking for. She turned it to Levi, and said, "I think this is my favourite edit so far."

Levi finally pulled his gaze from her, and looked down at the screen. It was truly something, the way the picture snapped him out of his stunned silence. Hange had never seen someone's face pinch up so rapidly.

"Come on, it's kinda funny. And look! That's Tony Stark, right? People are so creative. And maybe, if we're really lucky, Buzzfeed will do a compilation article of all the best ways people have used your new meme."  

Levi rolled his eyes at her. It looked strange, with his face so tightly twisted. Hange chuckled at him.

She nudged his ankle beneath the table with the toe of her shoe. "Lighten up, you look constipated."

"Oi, out of the two of us I'm not the one who's full of—"

"—Full of shit, I know, I know. That honour is all mine."

They lapsed into another silence, this one marginally more comfortable than the last. Hange finished the last of her coffee and checked her emails, while Levi tortured himself some more by scrolling through his Twitter feed. After a short while, he spoke again.

"That...doesn't sound bad," he said.

"Hm?"

"What you said about talking more. Off the record. It doesn't sound bad."

It was Hange's turn to flush. Heat rose in her cheeks, and she occupied herself by rifling through her bag in search of nothing.

"Yeah?" Her voice, an octave higher than usual, cracked around the vowels. She cleared her throat, "will you have more gossip for me? It's almost painful that I can't share it, you know."

"Good. I'll share as many secrets as I've got, if it'll bother you that much."

"Sounds terrible," Hange said. She tore a clean corner off her napkin and scribbled her personal number onto it. She slid it over the table to him. "Text me."

Levi pulled a face at the piece of napkin. "Is that used? Gross, shitty four-eyes." He pocketed it anyway.

Hange didn't know what else to say. Levi didn't seem to either, and so he stood, and tucked his chair back in. Hange turned her eyes down to her empty plate. Her stomach and chest felt strange, almost sickly, but in an oddly pleasant way.

Levi rapped his knuckles on the table. Hange jumped, startled, and looked up at the sound.

"This part is on the record," he said. The corner of Levi's mouth quirked into a small, barely there grin. "I heard from a reliable source that Eren was so scared on the set of Last War that he pissed his pants. Twice."

#Levihan #snk #my writing #THIS ONE WAS SO FUN I would like to revisit this one day #I enjoyed their dynamic hehe

[just-jordie-things]

Amnesia - Richie Tozier (part nine)

word count: 1041 warnings: mentions of sex summary: loosely based on Amnesia by 5sos + (part one) + (part two) + (part three) + (part four) + (part five) + (part six) + (part seven) + (part eight) ___

[ tell me this is just a dream // cause i’m not fine at all ]

Derry, Maine, 1992

“You have no idea how much I love you”

Richie turned around from where he sat on her living room sofa.  He’d come over because her parents were out, and that could’ve meant a million things.  Tonight, it meant hooking up and then ordering pizza.

She’d just walked into the room, and hadn’t said anything at first.  Just admired how he looked lounging in her space.  His hair was a mess, which was normal, but it was even messier thanks to her.  He looked content watching tv while waiting for her return.  And then she couldn’t help but tell him what she was thinking.

A lopsided smirk tugged on the corner of his lips as she rounded the couch to sit right on his lap, her legs straddled on either side of his.

“Enlighten me then, babycakes” He said, making her giggle.

She shrugged a shoulder while he was sweeping her hair off her shoulder to kiss the skin her tank top exposed.

“I just don’t think anything could ever be the same,” She said sweetly, and he leaned back to give her a confused look.  “Since knowing you, since falling for you-”

“-since fucking me-” He teased, but it was short lived because she was quick to whack his chest.

“I don’t think I’ll ever love anyone as much as I love you,” She murmured, and pecked his lips.  “I don’t know, I just started thinking about it”

“Our love his god” He quoted, and she wanted to roll her eyes, but she laughed instead.

“Maybe so,” She hummed, and gave him a longer kiss.  “Or maybe I just really like your face”

He awed, peppering kisses all over her cheeks and nose and eyelids.

“I really like your face too, baby,” He said playfully.  “I really like your everything to be honest”

“I know, Richie” She monotoned.

“Like, really,” He mused, pressing a kiss to her jaw, “Everything” Another kiss to her neck.

She was quick to wrap her arms around his neck and swing her body to lay down on the cushions, pulling his body over hers.

“I know, Richie” She repeated with a laugh as she hastily yanked his shirt up over his head. ___

San Francisco, California, 2020

“Hey,”

(y/n) giggled in her half-asleep state as the word ghosted over the back of her neck.  It was the middle of the night, and she was exhausted to no end, but she knew that he just had to ask her his midnight question before he could go to sleep.

“What’s on your mind, baby?” She mumbled back.

The hand that was on her hip traveled up her arm before smoothing over her bare shoulder.

“What if you and I got married?”

She instantly swept her exhaustion under the rug, rolling over in his arms and staring at him with wide and skeptical eyes.

“Really?” She asked, suddenly short of breath.

“Really,” He answered, nodding his head.  “I mean, I think things have been going really well-”

“Yeah, yeah they have” She agreed, nodding back at him in a much more anxious fashion.

“And I really fucking love you living here,” He continued.  “And I love you just as much- if not more than I did back in the golden days,”

She giggled, still nodding, and kissing him quickly.

“And babycakes I’ve wanted to put a ring on it since we met”

“Are you quoting Beyonce in your proposal-”

“Whaddya say?” He murmured, cradling her face in his hands.

“I say you’re a dummy, and I fucking love you,” She answered, pecking his lips once more  “More than anything,” She added, kissing him a third time.  “Let’s do it, baby”

He whooped loudly, wrapping his arms around her and pulling her smaller frame on top of him completely.  All the while she was giggling, and threading her hands through his hair.

“We’ll invite all our friends, and family- well, maybe not,” She giggled, but insisted he go on.  “It’ll be so grand- and babycakes you’re gonna look so beautiful”

He leaned up to kiss her, which she smiled against his lips.

“We’ll invite everyone,” She hummed against his mouth.  “Everyone we’ve ever met- all of Derry, even,” She grinned down at him delightedly.  “I want everyone to see,”

(y/n) maneuvered off of his body to lay on her side next to him, and he mirrored her, adoring how beautiful she looked as she fantasized her- well, their- dream wedding.

“I want everyone to know I’ll be marrying you, Richie Trashmouth Tozier,” She murmured.  “The whole town will be jealous”

“The whole town won’t be surprised,” He mocked  “I can’t wait”

“Me either,” She told him, and kissed him once more.  “I love you, dummy” She whispered.

“I love you too, babycakes”

She settled against his chest, wrapped up in the comfort of his arms, and the blankets that he was currently situating around them.  Every night she was grateful to spend in his arms.  He was her everything, and she didn’t think twice about agreeing to marry him.

“One more question,” Richie mumbled into her hair.  She hummed in response.  “After we’re married, will I have to start calling you Babycakes Tozier?”

Her breath of a laugh fanned over his collarbone in a delightful sensation.

“I think I’d actually love that” She said sweetly.

He smiled to himself, and then dropped a kiss to the crown of her head before pulling her closer and holding her tighter.

“I love you,” He whispered again, just to say it.  She might have fallen asleep already, he wasn’t sure, but he didn’t care.  He’d tell her all night until he passed out too.  “I love you so much”

Her hand grasped at his chest, taking the material of his tee shirt in a loose fist.  She didn’t say it back this time, but she didn’t have to for him to know.  He just did.

He’d whisper those three special words a few more times, until they were faint enough that they disappeared into the dark room, and the pair were tangled in each other and fast asleep.

Both at their most content state.

___

that’s all folks :)

taglist: @thegr8kush​

xoxo ~ jordie

#it 2017 #it 2019 #richie tozier #richie tozier x reader #richie tozier imagine #richie tozier scenario #richie tozier fanfiction #finn wolfhard #finn wolfhard x reader #bill hader #bill hader x reader

[spencerhotchner]

Alternative {spencer reid}

Chapter 2

summary: Since quarentine was announced, Y/N decided to rewatch all seasons of Criminal Minds. On a lonely night she wished she could be in that universe instead of this. What happens when she wakes up in 2008 in Quantico?

warnings: angst, a very confused reader, regular cm stuff and my grammar (if you find anything else pls lmk) 

word count: 2.1k

a/n: ok, i am really excited about this series. and really thankful that y'all are liking it. also, i hope you will enjoy this chapter as much as y'all did the last one! it didn't end up as long as i wanted it it but ig its ok right.

series masterlist

part 1 | part 2

You could hear some familiar voices on the background as you began to regain conciseness, voices you could identify anywhere. You kept your eye shut for a while, feeling the tiredness and dizziness your body was screaming at you despite the fact that you have been unconscious, and on the floor apparently. Even though you're head was still too slow to think straight, you noticed that your face mask wasn't on you anymore. 

“Who is she?” you heard the familiar voice of Shamar, or Morgan, given the circumstances. 

“Apparently she knows me.” that was Spencer’s turn to speak. 

“I met her this morning.” JJ states, you could only imagine the faces they would be making at her, wondering how and why. “I bumped into her walking on the street, she seemed pretty confused but yet she still knew who I was.” 

“Well, that’s weird.” Emily said.

When you finally decided to open them, you felt like you were still dream. Once again you found yourself asking what was going on. Why was the whole cast of Criminal Minds standing there simple staring at you and why were they acting like their characters? Out of the two explanations that came to your mind at the moment, only one made any sense. I was a tv prank, it could only be. There would be no other logical reason to it, other wise. 

“Are you ok?” Hotch asks, offering a hand. 

You stared at him trying to figure out what to say, but without saying a word you took his hands and got up. The whole team was looking at you, with weird expressions. You felt almost like you were an unsub, you hated being stared. 

“Yes, I mean, no!” you say. “Is this a prank of something? Because, damn, you guys went too far down with it. Fuck!” you say, finally snapping. 

“I’m afraid I don't know what you are talking about.” Rossi said. 

You tried not to but as soon as you realized you already had a big sarcastic expression on your face. How wouldn't they? They were tv stars and they were clearly acting, you've seen it. 

“Oh, you're not?” you said, as sarcastic as you could be. “Ok, let me enlighten you all, since you ‘don’t know what i’m talking about?’. I woke up in this freaking random apartment by myself wearing the exact same thing I was wearing the night before.” 

“...and where is the part we fit in there?” he replies. 

You ignored him, sighing and trying to push your anxiety down. 

“As I was saying, I was wearing the exact same thing and I was in Bellevue, in Washington state. I have no idea who decided to pull this off but as much as I love the show, I am not enjoying this.” you say, looking around trying to find cameras. 

They all kept staring at you, Rossi was the only one who didn't seem worried about, it was like he thought you were on drugs or just delusional. You were even starting to believe in that. JJ and Spencer kept staring at each other, possibly trying to figure out what was going on, and how you knew them. 

“You believe you were abducted, then?” Hotch finally says something. 

You sigh again, trying to be patience. All you wanted was to go home, when you said you wanted to meet the cast - all the hundreds of times you said it, you didn’t mean this. You closed your eyes, because suddenly all you wanted to do was cry. You couldn't count how many times you imagined this happening and it was being just awful. You hated being confused, lost and being pictured as crazy. 

“No, Agent Hotchner” you spilled his name, sarcastically. “I am sure.”

He looked at you without much expression - as usual, but you could tell he was superseded you knew him, just as much as the team. Morgan step forward, walking towards you. You stared at him, trying to remain calm. 

“Listen, we can't help you if you don't let us.” he said. “Can you tell us your name?”

God, don't they realize this is funny? I do not wanna be acting, some pictures would do the job just as fine. 

“Y/N Y/L/N” you say as you watch Rossi give Garcia a look making her nod and direct herself to her ‘cave’, certainly to search you up. 

“Alright, you have someone we can contact with?” JJ asks. 

You nodded, yes you did. But they wouldn't pick up the phone, as you tried multiple times this morning on the old cellphone. What if something happened to them? This was all so confusing. 

“But she won’t pick up the phone, I tried.” you said.

Once again, you caught yourself wondering what was going on. And that was the moment you kind of got what was happening. Would it be possible that you shifted to this universe? Maybe this wasn't all a prank and your wish had just became true. You probably should've thought about it before asking for it. At once it hit you, what you said to your friend just last night. 

“What is something you would want to do right now?” your best friend asked you, leaning a bit towards you, laughing drunkly.

“Um, I’d really like to be in Criminal Minds right now.” you say laughing as you best friend rolled her eyes. “No, listen! I’d love to meet Spencer Reid and I don't know, it just sounds better than quarantine.”

“Yeah, sure, because serial killers are just not bad at all, huh?” she laughed. 

Maybe this was true, maybe you did shifted. And if you did, you sure sounded like a crazy person, and probably a stalker. You looked around trying to figure out if you could sit somewhere, it all became took much for you mind at that moment. 

“Can I sit... Can I sit somewhere?” you asked, probably looking as ill as you sounded.

You watched as Reid rushed to bring the chair. You set down trying to figure out how you'd leave there, and how you'd shift back. Staring at them you felt your heart warm a little, you dreamed about this for so long - as it was all it was, a dream, until now, at least. 

Before you could say a word you watched Penelope come back and whisper in Rossi’s ear, probably what she found out about you. Which, maybe was everything, since you had no reasons to hide a thing about your life, which was quite boring, in fact. 

“Who are you?” Rossi says, like he’s ready to arrest you.

“I-I already told you.” you answer. “I’m Y/N.”

If you needed any proof about what was going on that was it. It was like you did not even exist, like you weren't real. She probably didn’t find anything because you’re not from this universe.

“Alright. What can we do for you, Y/N?” Morgan asks.

“I need to go home.” you let it out. “I don't know how I ended up here in Quantico.”

Garcia stares ate you, almost like she felt pity about your situation while the rest of them kept a suspicious look at you. It’s not like you blame them, anyways, you would think it’s weird for somebody to come out of nowhere knowing your name and claiming to be pranked. 

While you were sitting there, with all those eyes at you, you thought that maybe giving up and trying to figure it all out by yourself maybe would be better. How would they help you, anyways? It is not like they could send you back. And it is also not like you didn't actually wish for this. 

There are some wishes that are entirely rhetorical. 

“You know what? I’m good.” you fake a smile, obviously. “I’m just gonna go.” 

You stoop up fast, not giving them much time to contest you. Spencer looked confused, more than any of the others, for some reason. Maybe he was just curious on how you knew him, or JJ. Either way, you wouldn't know. 

Hotch looked at you, wondering your action. Why were you so desperate at one time and tried to pull off as if it was ok? It was definitely not ok. Your smile looked fake, your body seemed tense and your eyes looked as lost as he could think someone could be, as he has seen a lot of lost eyes. 

“Thank you, for your attention, though.” you say. “I’m sorry for taking your time agents.” 

You stormed out of there, not even realizing that you left your jacket in there. How could you? Not when you ran out of there as if your live depended on it. You let a sigh out as you got out of the building, not even noticing when the tears started to come down at your cheeks. 

At that moment you didn't care at all about where you were, you set on the floor, letting the tears roll down and the sobs come out. You never wished to be away from your reality, it only seemed nice in your dreams. Right now, all you wanted was to go home and hug your parents, or even just see them. You felt lost, as lost as a five year old who can't find his mommy at the park. 

You got scared as you felt a big hand touch your shoulders. As your turn, to see who was it, Spencer looked as nice as you could ever picture him to, or see on the screens. His face resembles worry, like he was actually wondering what happened to you and why where you there. 

“I believe this is yours.” he hands you your jacket. 

You stare at him before.

“Yes, thank you.” you wipe the tears away. 

“No- No problem.” he said, sitting by your side. “Are you ok?”

“Yeah.” you answered looking away. 

“You don't have to lie to me.” he said, as you looked back at him. “I wanna help you, but I can only do that if you cooperate with me.”

Why would he?

“I don't know where I am. I mean, I do know but I don't know how I ended up here. I understand what is going on, I did after a while but I don't know how to change this situation. I don't know how to go back home.” you said. 

Not like he’ll understand, anyways.

"Maybe... Maybe me and my team could help you figure it out?” he tries. 

“I doubt it.” you shake your shoulders. “I know that you guys are awesome at your job, don't get me wrong, to be honest I’m quite the big fan.” you laughed a bit. “But it’s just out of hand.” 

He stops, looking at you. Gave up offering help, you were not accepting he felt it. No, he knew it. It was his job to know what body language was telling him, anyways. He didn't want to stare at you, but he felt like he needed to. He was stuck at your looks, so pretty, yet so lost. 

“If we can't help you, is there anything I can do for you?” he asks. 

You looked right into his eyes. Thinking, if you should say it. Maybe so, it wouldn't kill you, it was not like it was the real world of something, well maybe it was but you couldn't care less. All you wanted was somewhere to stay this night and figure out how to get back.

“I do need a place to stay tonight.” you say, smiling little at him. 

He had a weird look on his face when you said that, like he wasn't expecting it. Because he wasn't. That moment he considered himself a crazy man, because he knew the risks and yet was up for it.

“Uh, ok.” 

Taglist: @feverdreamreid @andromedasstarship @paulaern @theetherealbloom @thatsonezesty13 @reidsalvez​ @pieceofreid @nymeria-targaryen​ @greeny-kitten​ @peppermintnight @notebookgirl30​ @2sarvinem @holding-on-to-my-youth​ @mggsprettygirl​ @iifloweringnightsii​ @iidontgiveafuckuniverse​ @mcntsee​

#spencer reid #spencer reid tw #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x you #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid angst #spencer reid au #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid smut #fanfic #spencer reid fanfic #fanfiction #criminal minds #aaron hotchner #hotch #jj #jennifer jareau #penélope garcia #derek morgan #emily prentiss #david rossi

[wesawbears]

Posting here in its entirety now that it’s complete. Featuring the favors Neil used to get Andrew to go to Aaron’s wedding, Neil being a menace, and Andrew and Aaron talking, as well as Andrew submitting to the mortifying ordeal of being known.

Enjoy!

--

Andrew shut the door with his foot, letting his bag sit by the door for a minute. He knew Neil would call out his hypocrisy the moment he saw,considering their previous conflicts about what apartment etiquette entailed, but for now, what he didn’t know wouldn’t hurt him.

Walking into the kitchen, he set his keys down on the table and scratched at Sir’s chin where he was headbutting against his hand. He stopped when he saw something unfamiliar on the fridge and walked over to inspect. They weren’t the type to keep mementos or reminders there; the dark blue stood out against the bareness there.

In loopy script, it read: “Save the Date! October 21st. Aaron Minyard and Katelyn Winters”.

He began peeling it off the fridge. Neil had wanted him to see it, but there was no way. Just seeing their smiling faces made something surge up in his stomach. He had let Aaron go years ago, but he never said he had to be happy about it, and he certainly had said nothing about supporting Katelyn or their relationship, the same as Aaron had never said anything to Neil that wasn’t strictly required for Exy. He could tolerate talking to Aaron, more than he had when they’d been in the same state, but that didn’t mean they did things like this. Nicky’s wedding was bad enough.

“Oh, you found it.”

Andrew turned, determined to not give Neil the satisfaction of seeing that he’d startled him. The slight smirk told him he hadn’t succeeded, but he kept his face placid and unbothered. “So you put it there on purpose? I assumed it had been put there by mistake.”

“No. I put it there so I’d remember to put it on the calendar...eventually.”

“What for?” Andrew asked, tilting his head in mock confusion. Better to not give him the satisfaction..

Neil raised his eyebrow, a look of condescension that had Andrew’s hackles up. “Because I’m going? I assumed you would too, but I can go alone.”

It was true. Neil was an adult who could make his own choices and Andrew wouldn’t stop him from going. But somehow he doubted that Neil would leave it there. The very fact that Neil had taken the time to put it on the fridge meant that this was premeditated and that, likely, this was an argument he wasn’t going to win. That didn’t mean that Andrew didn’t intend to gain as much ground as he could.

“So eager to go play with your friends?”

“Our friends.”

“Presumptuous.”

“You’re right. Aaron will be there, considering it’s his wedding. So he would be just yours then.”

“Aaron is no longer my responsibility. He can fuck up his life however he wants.”

Neil leaned against the kitchen counter, staring back at Andrew with the same level stare. “What do you want for it?”

Andrew held himself against the weight of being known that well. He kept his voice casual. “Skipping ahead so soon? You haven’t appealed to the fact that he’s my brother yet.”

Neil huffed. “Wouldn’t work. I’ve already worked through all your arguments. Had about a week to practice.”

Andrew drummed his fingers on the table. It was unnerving, as always, to know that Neil knew him well enough to anticipate his arguments, to have already taken the time to work this through in his head. It was as irritating as it was calming, in a way only Neil could manage to be.  “You assume you have something worth that much to me.”

“Don’t I?”

“This conversation is starting to bore me. Get to the point.”

“I can sign the papers. One phone call and I’m transferred to Chicago. Same schedule, same weekends off. No more watching each other’s games on TV.”

Andrew worked his jaw. Neil’s status states away had been a source of more irritation than he wanted to admit. It had taken him a long time to be able to admit that Neil was a part of his life that was maybe permanent, as close to permanent as he could allow himself, and now that he had, he felt every mile like a slow healing bruise. Neil’s contract was due for renewal, but Andrew’s team conveniently needed a striker. No coach would turn down one of the best strikers in the game. It was the one thing worth saying yes to and Neil knew it.

“Yes or no?”

Andrew knew that Neil would drop it the moment Andrew said no. Neil didn’t pick fights he couldn’t win. He was only asking because he knew from the start Andrew would agree.

“I’ll go.”

Neil grinned, and moved closer, hovering his hand close to Andrew’s. Andrew took the next step and linked their fingers together. For once, Neil didn’t push his luck with some smartass comment, but Andrew could practically see him biting it back. 

“What?”

“Nothing. I’m just glad you’ll be there.”

“Don’t say stupid shit,” he countered, pulling Neil in. 

“Yes,” Neil said, before Andrew could ask.

He pressed him to the counter and kissed him, letting the invitation fall to the ground.

--

It takes another favor for Neil to convince him that threatening Katelyn at the wedding wasn’t worth the trouble. Andrew severely disagreed, but pushing the issue wasn’t worth it, when Neil would pull back on both their agreements if he did. He didn’t linger on what that meant, on the fact that somewhere along the way he’d decided that keeping Neil meant more to him than settling past scores, and more to him than his brother. He wasn’t sure if that was healthy or not, but healthy had never been in his lexicon either way.

Neil still looked like a disgruntled cat any time he had to wear a suit, but Andrew had picked out a nice fitting one for him years ago, and he takes a moment to appreciate his handiwork. Neil is oblivious as always, though, and it takes him about two minutes of trying to get his tie right until Andrew can’t take it anymore.

“Impossible,” he huffs, and moves closer to secure it properly. Neil grins down at him and Andrew still feels the urge to push his face away, not knowing what Neil finds there to look at. “Staring.”

“Says the man who was literally standing there for two whole minutes.” Not as oblivious then.

Andrew doesn’t dignify that with a response, turning with a hum and heading towards the door. He’s timed it so they’ll be just close enough to on time for the ceremony that they can slip in the back. He lets the hum of the highway drown out the tight feeling in his chest.

When they get there, there’s an annoying sign that says “We’re all family! Pick a seat, not a side!” and Andrew considers walking out, but Neil is swept up by Matt and carried away, so Andrew has to follow, despite his misgivings. Nowhere in their agreement did it state that Andrew had to pay attention to the ceremony, so he tunes out and recites some book he has memorized to himself instead. 

It becomes painfully obvious at the reception that Neil is keeping an eye on him, so Andrew leaves him with Kevin, fighting over something inane and exy-related, and goes outside for a cigarette. He steps onto the terrace, only to find his brother leaning against a fence.

“I don’t think this is how weddings work,” he says as a greeting.

Aaron glances up, scowl as familiar as a mirror. “I told Katelyn I needed a minute.

Andrew nods and leans against the fence, taking a drag of his cigarette.

“Didn’t think you were going to come.”

“Thank Neil.”

“After you thank Katelyn. It was her idea to send you the invitation. I told her not to bother.”

“And yet here I am.”

“Here you are,” Aaron agrees, leaning further back against the fence.

Andrew lets the conversation drop for a moment. He’s about to head back inside, when he hears, “Why?”

He turns back. “Why what?”

“Why did you come? We both know Neil isn’t here as a favor to me. So why would he think it’s important for you to be here?”

And wasn’t that the million dollar question. Why had he bothered to come, when he and Aaron only spoke a handful of times a year? 

“I don’t know,” he answers truthfully.

Annoyingly, Aaron scoffs. “Yes you do.”

“Enlighten me then,” he plays along.

Aaron shrugs. “I didn’t say I knew why. I just know that you don’t do anything without having some convoluted reason for it.”

“I didn’t know I was coming out here to have a conversation with the cheshire cat.”

Aaron chuckled and the sound was foreign to him. “We’re not 16 anymore. Hell, we’re not 20 anymore. We’re grown up.” He holds his glass up, toasting to nowhere.

“When did you start philosophizing? Andrew asked.

“It’s my wedding day-I’m allowed,” Aaron says, shaking his head.

“You’re so weird,” is all Andrew can think to say.

He looks at Aaron and wonders what he sees. Wonders if he mirror the relaxed posture, the way Aaron looks comfortable in his own skin. He wonders how long it’s been since he woke up screaming, if it’s a dull ache in the back of his mind, or an almost healed bruise, flaring up only when pressed on.

He hears the tell tale sound of heels on cobblestones. “Aaron? Honey, we’re about to cut the- oh.”

He looks up and sees Katelyn, wide-eyed and hesitant. He feels long forgotten anger well up, but thinks of Neil and pushes it down. With a long forgotten salute, he turns and leaves Aaron to his future.

Inside, Neil is leaning against a table, sipping his drink that Andrew can tell he hates. He takes it from him and downs it in a quick swig.

“That was mine,” he complains, nudging Andrew’s hip.

“You were too slow.”

“Everything okay?” he asks.

Andrew looks down at their hands, sees the newly acquired neat letters on the side of Neil’s thumb that match his own and feels something settle back into place. He looks up and past him to where Aaron is laughing while Katelyn puts whipped cream on his nose. 

“Yes or no?” he asks instead.

Neil smirks. “In the middle of their moment?”

“Yes,” he taps Neil’s thumb, “Or no?”

“Yes, Andrew,” he says and pulls him in the rest of the way. He hears Nicky yell something and flips him off. 

He’s okay.

#aftg #andreil #tfc #the foxhole court #andrew minyard

[lovelyirony]

"a single thread of gold/tied me to you" for ironhusbands?💛

If there is one thing that James Rhodes cannot stand, it is “love at first sight.” In his professional and personal opinion, there is no such thing. It is simply a concept that Disney invented so they could make cutesy stories about princesses finding their princes immediately and give people hope about love, but in the end it is all about the money. 

“You’re a cynic,” his sister Jeanie tells him over breakfast. She flings a stray Cheerio at him. “You are a cynic and you’re never gonna date someone because they’re going to think you suck.” 

“People are going to date me and realize that I’m a good, realistic choice,” James responds, sticking his tongue out and stealing a drink of her orange juice. “People are going to date you and you’ll be disappointed because you watched too many romantic movies and you let it taint reality.” 

“Loser.” 

“Dork.” 

And then he’s in college. 

Surprisingly, he doesn’t meet Tony Stark for two years despite the fact that every single year, they live in the same building on different floors. He has had to evacuate about twenty different times because Tony cannot stop himself from doing experiments in his room. 

The third year, James is an RA and required to live with one of the residents because of “experimental tendencies.” They don’t elaborate on why he’s stuck with a roommate, what the tendencies are, or who he is. 

“You’ll know,” comes the email from the coordinator, and he has never wanted to curse so badly in an email before, but here he is. 

But he’ll deal with it. Just like how he’s going to deal with everything this year. 

-

He thought he would get the room to himself for a little while before everyone moved in and brought everything and he would check them in. 

But no. 

There’s his roommate, lounging on a bed, and grinning. 

“Simply enlightening to meet you, James. They told me I could come back if I had a trusted roommate.” 

“And they stuck you with me?” 

“Well they were going to stick me with some dude who got the email, and then immediately transferred to Dartmouth. So I think you were the second option.” 

“Great.” 

He hates life, maybe just a little bit. 

Tony wants to do things. Which is fine, but he isn’t really in the mood to have the conversation of the fact that he can do things, but he doesn’t want to do them. He has to focus on being an RA and preparing for the Air Force. 

“Why prepare for that when you could be living?” Tony asks, lounging on Rhodey’s bed. 

Oh yeah, that’s new too. Rhodey. Apparently, “Jim,” “James,” and “Rhodes” were unacceptable nicknames. 

What is acceptable is Rhodey. And of course, the “honey bunches of oats” and “loveliest RA of all time in the history of MIT” and “sugar-puff” and “sweetness overload” 

He’s responding to all of them, by the way. 

Rhodey didn’t think his mental health would get this bad by the beginning. He had actually scheduled it to be around October. 

- 

And then the students come. There are nervous freshmen, the sophomores who don’t say anything as they move in and get settled, and the returning juniors and seniors greet Rhodey and Tony with familiarity and laugh about the posters that Rhodey’s worked hard on. 

“So, we’re having joint-RA’s or something?” Miles asks, throwing his comforter over his bed. 

“No, we’re not,” Rhodey says, hoping his expression is somewhere along the lines of not-showing-emotion. “Tony’s just...” 

“I’m simply too exhausting for Housing to deal with anymore, so I have a babysitter,” Tony says with a wink. “And who better than our lovely Rhodey?” 

“Don’t call me that.” 

“Sugar-puff?” 

“Still no.” 

Miles snorts. 

“This year should be good. Tony, you gonna pull any fire alarms this year?” 

“Rhodey has expressly banned experiments in the building, unfortunately,” Tony sighs. “It’s like he doesn’t want everyone to bond over having to leave at two in the morning...” 

“Nothing says bonding like hating a rude wake-up call,” Rhodey says, and Tony nods. “We’ll let you get all moved in, Miles. Remember that floor dinner is at six!” 

“You got it!” 

Rhodey gives Tony a look. 

“You know, I can do this on my own.” 

“Aw shutterbug, I’m not gonna let you.” 

“Are you really this intent on following me around?” 

“Well, what if I want to overtake your position next year? What if you tragically get a raging headache and it’s up to me to know what to do? What if your mother kidnaps you and never lets you come here again?” 

“I’m sure the college kids will be fine,” Rhodey stresses. “And I’ll still have access to email and the groupchat, genius.” 

Tony just laughs. 

“Alright, okay. I gotta go get some shit for my new class. The teacher sent out an email stating that the textbook is mandatory, and we have to do book work. This feels like eighth grade all over again.” 

Rhodey snorts. 

“Is it for Professor Casper?” 

“Yeah, did you have him?” 

“Yeah, you don’t need the book. You can find it online for free, and he never collects the book work. It’s a waste of time to get the book.” 

“You’re an angel-and-a-half, love of my life,” Tony says. “And for that, I’ll snag an extra pudding for you at the dining hall.” 

“Is it vanilla or chocolate this time?” 

“Chocolate with cookies in it.” 

“Oh my god, seriously? Already?” 

“Guess they must have had a jump,” Tony teases. “I’ll see you at dinner.” 

- 

Tony has a specific way of getting people to open up and actually talk with others that Rhodey envies. 

If Tony wasn’t so hellbent on convincing the group that if Miles and Kamala create a distraction, they could totally sneak out one of the pictures of the mascot. 

“We are not doing that the first week,” Rhodey says. “Maybe the last.” 

“It’s a beaver,” Tony whines. “Who’s gonna miss it, a Canadian?” 

“It’ll be the floor bonding activity,” Gwen says, finishing off her fifth (maybe sixth) slice of pizza. “Better than talking about your feelings about the campus or whatever.” 

“No.” 

“We’ll convince him soon,” Tony whispers conspiratorially. “Also, who here is a freshman? I have some advice regarding the math classes and which teacher you want...” 

- 

Rhodey does have to admit, that sometimes it’s easier to have Tony around, who is so willing to stay up until the late hours because of some stupid drama or to help Peter at his chemistry homework and also ease his anxiety about leaving his Aunt May all alone. 

Tony isn’t all wild and crazy as stories have led him up to be. 

"I wore out all my crazy freshman year after going to two frat parties and deciding that no one knew anything about how to have fun,” he declared. “I mean, come on. Why have beer pong when you could quiz people about obscure fashion facts?” 

Rhodey snorts. 

“Don’t make that the next game night. Hey, what do you think about having a movie night this Friday? I’m thinking something not scary, we’ve been doing a lot of those.” 

“It is October, what do you mean not scary?” 

“Some of our residents don’t like scary,” Rhodey reminds him. “Honestly, I think we could do with a bit of Halloween fun.” 

“Hocus Pocus? Double Double, Toil and Trouble? If you want to be slightly scared of old women and clown parties, I’d recommend it.” 

“You weren’t scared of clowns beforehand?” 

“Of course not, I wanted what they have; the ability to fit eighteen people in a car.” 

“Couldn’t you just gut the car?” 

“Not the same effect, honey-pie. Not the same effect.” 

Miles and Peter both end up lobbying for Hocus Pocus, with little to no competition other than a promise that the other choice would be shown later on in the semester. 

They’ve shoved all the chairs together and multiple people have brought out their own chairs, and Tony saves a seat for Rhodey under the premise of “Rhodey organized it, he gets a seat.” 

It’s a tough squeeze, and Tony and Rhodey get all tangled up together. 

Tony smells like expensive cologne and coffee, and he grins up at Rhodey and maybe the lights from the TV aren’t bright enough, but for a moment his heart skips a beat. 

Well. Shit. 

When he goes home for Thanksgiving break, Tony seems a bit...sad. 

“What, your mom cook the worst turkey in the world?” he jokes. 

"Sure,” Tony says, eyes unfocused. “Yeah.” 

"Dude, you okay?” 

“Yeah,” Tony says, turning. His smile brightens, eyes crinkling. “Why wouldn’t I be fine, buttercup?” 

Rhodey gives him a look. 

“I’m gonna call you when I get home, okay? You better answer.” 

“I always answer to you,” Tony says, and damn Rhodey’s mind shouldn’t be going where it is. 

Rhodey waves, gets in his car, and thinks about how Tony most likely has a problem on his mind, how he should probably not room with him, and his Aunt Ada’s green beans. 

God, he loves those green beans. 

- 

Tony is alone for Thanksgiving. Jarvis and Ana got an opportunity to visit Aunt Peggy in England, and he knew that they hadn’t seen her in two years. He didn’t want to be selfish, have them stay just for him. 

So, it looked like deli turkey sandwiches were in his future. If there’s still some soda in the fridge, maybe that too. 

He sighs, and turns towards the lab. Dum-E’s not even here, as he didn’t fit in the travel car, so Tony let him loose on the floor to “keep guard” over the dorms and make sure that no one broke in or stole the cords that he knows he accidentally left in the common room. 

The odd thing is, he had almost told Rhodey. Almost let him know that he’d be alone for Thanksgiving, but is that weird? That’s weird, right? To tell people your emotions just...it’s so messy. 

They have to deal with it, you have to deal with the fact that they’re dealing with it, and then other people know that you both are dealing with it and it’s just a whole mess of epic proportions, you know? 

-

Rhodey finds out on Thanksgiving, when they’re doing the parade on the TV and there’s a new snippet on the gossip channel when they go on commercial break. 

Howard and Maria Stark, vacationing off the Mediterranean Coast. 

“It’s reported that Tony Stark has preferred to spend his time in the vacation home,” the news reporter said, her smile wide and placid. 

“Tony’s lucky,” Mama says, wrapping golden yarn around her fingers as she works on another sweater. (A small one, a tiny one. It’s for the new baby in the family for Christmas.) “He tell you about it?” 

“He’s not there,” Rhodey says numbly. 

“He’s not?” Dad says, eyes raised over the newspaper. 

“No.” 

“He didn’t tell you, did he?” Dad asks. 

“No, no he didn’t.” 

“Well then. Next time he’ll come with us.” 

Rhodey nods. 

“Christmas?” 

“Clear it with his parents if they’re not spending time together.” 

“Got it.” 

- 

Rhodey’s Thanksgiving is...nice. He can’t stop thinking about Tony going alone. 

So he calls him. It’s two in the morning, he might be asleep, and Rhodey’s not sure if he got the “eight” in the last four digits right or not. 

“Howard’s out, who is it?” comes a sleep-addled voice. 

“Good thing I’m not looking for Howard, Tones.” 

“Rhodey? Why are you calling me?” Tony asks, and Rhodey can imagine his eyes lighting up and that’s...that’s something. 

“You spent Thanksgiving alone, I wanted to see how you were.” 

“Aw, checking in your residents?” 

“Checking in on you.” 

Tony stills for a moment at the phone. 

Besides Jarvis, no one had ever really checked in on him. 

“Um, I’m fine?” 

“You sure?” 

“Yeah. I mean, it sucks to be alone on Thanksgiving, but I don’t really like any of the foods that people usually have, so I’ve been fine. I ordered wraps from my favorite place.” 

“Good to hear, good to hear.” 

There’s a silent pause for a moment, the one where they both try to find something to say. 

“Listen,” Rhodey says. “If you’re ever stuck for a holiday alone, you’re coming with me, okay?” 

“I don’t want to intrude on your family,” Tony says softly. 

“They all wanna meet you. Jeanie says she can kick your ass at ice hockey!” 

“You guys can actually play ice hockey?” 

“With limited degrees of success.” 

“Oh, now that I gotta see some time.”

- 

They come back to college, and Tony is back to his usual antics, greeting everyone who comes through the elevator with a shower of shredded paper. 

“Welcome to Winter Wonderland! Next stop: suffering through finals!” 

“Ugh,” Kamala groans, “stop it. Stop making me think. I have to memorize Byronic poetry. Do you know how boring that is?” 

"Speak for yourself, I have to build a wooden chair,” Riri whines. “Who works with wood these days? It’s so old-fashioned.” 

“Create the most bitching chair alive,” Tony says. “And I’ll help you with the necessary tools. Your professor isn’t expecting much, mainly just that it can support the weight of two people, you’ll be fine. Kam, Byronic poetry is not that bad, you will be good. We will bake cookies.” 

“Can we even bake cookies? I thought our floor got banned from kitchen usage,” Peter says. “Hey Rhodey.” 

“Hey kiddo,” Rhodey says. “First of all, yes we are banned from the kitchen. Second, we’re only banned and get in trouble so long as they know we’re there. And since more than half of us are nocturnal creatures and I am willing to wake up to help, we can bake cookies.” 

There are cheers around the room, and Tony mocks offense. 

“You don’t trust me to help the future youth?” 

“Given that we’re not allowed to rent out any more equipment from the front office? Yes.” 

“You wound me, darling.” 

“Only as much as kitchen equipment goes, sweetheart.” 

Tony grins. 

“Aw, you missed me.” 

“Yeah, I did. Now come on, you gotta help me with a billboard about the movie night this Friday. We thinking a romantic comedy or something mildly terrifying but probably won an award?” 

“Mildly terrifying!” Gwen calls from her dorm. “If we watch two people falling in love I’ll choke! We’ve been doing it all year!” 

“We’ve only watched, like, three rom-coms?” 

Gwen rolls her eyes, as if he’s missed something completely obvious. 

“You don’t get it. I’ll try again later. Hey, are we doing floor dinner tonight?” 

“They’re serving pizza sandwiches, so obviously,” Tony says. “We will feast like kings.” 

- 

Christmas is a festive time for Tony. He loves it, and goes overboard with decorations. Rhodey lets him, because you can’t stop Tony once he loves something (and Rhodey is kind of. Fond of him). 

Pepper comes up from the fifth floor, whistling. 

“Damn, Jim. I knew you would do a good job with decorations, but not this good. Is this...did you buy a miniature village? How was this budgeted?” 

“It wasn’t,” Rhodey says. “Tony’s really into Christmas and the floor convinced him that the theme should be Christmas Village. He’s been crafting identities for each villager instead of studying for any exam. The craft store employees know him by name now.” 

“Well, we all have our vices. You two seem to get along well. Housing is pleased that he hasn’t blown up anything yet.” 

“If they try to serve cheese ravioli again, he might.” 

“That’s a problem for Dining,” Pepper reminds him.  

“Still, it’s abominable. Where did they get them, bottom of the Hudson River?” 

She snorts, adjusting her shirt. 

“Probably, but hey. They still got eaten, even if that one freshman threw them all back up at the entrance.” 

“It was payback, they were vile.” 

Tony waltzes into the lobby, arms filled with glittering tinsel. 

“We are not letting you hang that,” Pepper says, gaping at it all. “Do you know how hard it is to get rid of tinsel?”

“We’ll manage!” Tony says. “Also, are you free at six-thirty?” 

“No, that’s when we’re getting dinner on my floor, what do you need?” 

“Just that little tidbit of knowledge,” Tony says, looking down at his phone. 

A message buzzes from the groupchat, and Rhodey glances at it: 

We are a go for the real Christmas tree. I have the vacuum, and a believable lie. Rhodey’s gonna tell us when the RA on duty is gonna come so we can hide it. 

Rhodey looks at Tony, grinning. He smiles right back. 

“Is there some weird roommate telekinesis I’m missing here?” Pepper asks. 

“Yes,” Rhodey says. “We’re discussing dinner plans.” 

Another text from Harley: 

I’m already picking one out with Peter. I have good taste. When is the ornament-making party? 

Pepper looks at them. 

“You’re planning something that I probably would have to disapprove of. I’ll tell people I got your floor watched tonight.” 

“Pepper, light of my life, my absolute sunshine? You’re the best,” Tony says, grinning. “Rhodey-darling, help me with tinsel?” 

He can’t say no. Simple as that. 

That is how tinsel gets strung throughout his hair as he’s watching Tony climb onto chairs that shouldn’t be climbed on to hang it from everywhere. 

“People deserve to have a good-looking Christmas,” he says. “Besides, I wanna win the decoration contest.” 

Rhodey laughs. 

“Okay, okay. I think we got it in the bag.” 

Later on in the week, Tony can be seen flitting about from room to room with help and jokes to lighten the mood. 

Rhodey has to admit, being an RA with Tony around is...nice. Better than he thought. 

And maybe he has feelings. He’s not going to say anything about it. After all, they’re roommates. He also isn’t allowed to have a relationship with anyone on the floor, regardless of anything. 

It doesn’t mean every RA follows it. God knows Sharon’s snuck down to the fourth floor to see Sam near-about every night, and her residents usually keep it a pretty good secret. 

Still. There’s also everything else to consider, and the fact that he doesn’t even know if Tony likes him like that. 

He doesn’t have to focus on it. 

- 

At least, not until the week of finals when he’s dying and Tony’s made him peppermint hot chocolate and sits on his bed, just about an inch away from his notes for his history class. 

“Do you remember what you told me on the phone?” Tony asks softly. 

“You up to compete against Jeanie for this year’s ice hockey championship?” Rhodey asks, smiling. 

Tension releases from Tony’s shoulders. 

“Only so long as you’ll have me.” 

“Always, genius. Always.” 

- 

After the last resident leaves for the holiday and Rhodey checks in with those who are staying, he and Tony hit the road, dragging suitcases behind them. 

“Are you sure I’m allowed?” Tony asks. “I can always find a hotel along the way...” 

“Mama wants to meet you, I keep telling them a ton about you,” Rhodey says, laughing. “They told me they want to hear your side of the great Glitter Debacle.” 

Tony laughs. 

“You mean the truth?” 

“Uh, I’m sorry, how are you going to convince them that green glitter was needed? And that you could clean it out of carpet?” 

“Determination and grit?” 

Rhodey laughs again as they pull onto the highway. 

- 

After a couple of hours, they make it to Rhodey’s home. His sister comes out, hugs for both. 

“Good to meet you Tony,” Jeanie says. “I’ve heard a lot, and I think we’re going to get along awesomely after I tell you every single embarrassing thing that Jim’s ever done.” 

“Only if I get to share stories too,” Tony teases, grinning. “Aw, they call you Jim?” 

“What do you call him?” Jeanie asks. 

“Jim-Jam, angel-dear, sugar-puff, Rhodey. You know, the usual.” 

Jeanie snorts, taking one of Rhodey’s bags. 

“Calling you the first one from now on.” 

“Tony did you have to let her hear any of those?” Rhodey asks, exasperated in a teasing manner. 

“Of course I did,” Tony sing-songed. “Now after you, I’m sure your mom is waiting to hug the living daylights out of you.” 

- 

It’s not until Rhodey gets all settled in and Tony is downstairs competing with his dad in a round of chess that Jeanie sits on his bed, the intention to annoy. 

But it’s...different. She looks at him. 

“You love him a lot, don’t you?” 

Rhodey stills. 

“You wouldn’t have told him he could come here if you didn’t.” 

“You’re right.” 

“I’m always right,” Jeanie says, flipping braids over her shoulder. “Nice of you to finally realize that I’m the smart one.” 

Rhodey doesn’t say anything as she saunters out of the room. 

He makes the decision not to tell Tony. 

If it goes wrong and if Tony says no, he doesn’t want it to be an awkward family event but more importantly, the most awkward rest of the year ever. He can say it as they’re moving out, and that’s that. 

He tells Jeanie as such. 

“I thought you didn’t believe in love,” she says as they’re preparing the soup for dinner.” 

“I don’t believe in love at first sight,” Rhodey says. “I do believe in love. There’s a difference.” 

There’s a hell of a difference. 

First sight, you don’t know everything. The second, third, fourth, fifth, and so on? Oh you learn so much more, and they become that more important. 

He learns that he doesn’t mind picking up tinsel, so long as Tony is laughing and singing along to all of the worst Christmas songs ever, and maybe. Just maybe he could picture looking at Tony underneath the fairy-lights that they hung in the dorm room for all time. 

Love is terrifyingly exhilarating, even when it isn’t supposed to be. 

Rhodey did not think his heart would race so much as Tony listened to his Mama talk about her wedding china, about the utter disaster that his father was. 

“He forgot his tie,” Mama said, smiling. “Oh my lord, my mother had a cow about that. I thought he looked kind of dashing.” 

Tony’s eyes drift towards the wedding pictures, which are slightly shaky, but everyone had such wide smiles. 

It’s a far cry from the publicity photos from the Stark wedding, Rhodey remembers the solemn expressions, the stuff tuxedos. 

“I love it,” Tony says softly. He looks at Rhodey across the table, setting down the final plate. “Tell me more, Mrs. Rhodes.” 

“Call me Mama, honey, Mrs. Rhodes is for people I don’t like that much. I think you’re gonna be my new favorite.” 

“Even over me?” Jeanie says, grinning as she kisses Dad on the cheek. “I’m your favorite.” 

“You’re my favorite until now,” Mama says. “Don’t think I don’t know that you skipped out on setting the table because Tony was here and graciously offered.” 

“It was nothing,” Tony says. “Just happy to help. Thank you for letting me stay at your home for the holidays.” 

“We’re always lucky to have guests,” Dad says, setting down the main dish. “Now let’s eat.” 

Family dinner is a brand new concept to Tony. He’s had maybe four or five of them, and the majority of which were staged for some holiday shoot or some “celebrating American values” shoot. 

It was awkward, weird, and he didn’t get why. 

Now, he does. Jeanie has been steadily moving mashed potatoes away from Rhodey’s plate, and Mama caught her eye and winked, distracting him with talk about his college major and news about the neighbors. 

Mr. Rhodes watches it all with a careful eye and a lax smile. 

After dinner, they play cards. 

It should be boring, but Jeanie puts on an old record and Rhodey keeps trying to count cards, and Tony didn’t think you could count cards in a game of Spoons. 

“You can’t, he’s just a try-hard,” Jeanie stage-whispers. 

“You-” 

Jeanie laughs, rolling herself out of Rhodey’s grasp as he chases her around the family room. Tony leans back into the couch, and shouts with surprise as Jeanie trips Rhodey into the couch. 

His body twists, and Rhodey’s facing him on the couch and they’re close and with the fire roaring in the fireplace and the Christmas lights outside shining through the windows, it’s almost magic. 

It is magic, but Rhodey is kind of terrified of that. 

Tony breathes in, breathes out. 

“Hello sugar-puff,” he says. 

“Hello genius,” Rhodey says, a smile on his face. 

Oh. 

The night does not get much sleep. 

Tony doesn’t sleep anyway, but Rhodey finds that quite often he can’t sleep without some softly-playing rock in the background, doesn’t matter if it is a highly-questionable AC/DC song. That and Tony softly murmuring about his plans, and it’s like a personalized lullaby. 

Rhodey cannot sleep. Tony’s in the guest room, and he can’t sleep. 

There’s a soft knock on his door. 

Tony’s there in shorts and a t-shirt that’s probably expensive, but he’ll never say if it is or not. 

“Can I...I can’t sleep.” 

“Get in here, Tones. I can’t sleep either.” 

The bed is a tight squeeze, but they make it work. 

Rhodey whispers until he drifts off to sleep about Christmas and school and everything else. 

Tony watches with quiet eyes, interjecting with his own stories occasionally. 

They fall asleep tangled up together, and Rhodey doesn’t mind it one bit, not as he pulls Tony in closer. 

-

Waking up is bittersweet, honestly. Rhodey has Tony in his arms, and that’s...that’s perfect. He thinks this is going to be the best thing that’s ever happened in his lifetime. 

“It’s too early, darling,” Tony groans. The light from outside is already peeking through the blinds, and he has stuffed his head right back into a pillow. 

“Jeanie’ll be here soon to bother us for Christmas breakfast,” Rhodey says. “And unless you want her pouncing on the bed and landing on wrong everything, we better get down there.” 

Tony smiles sleepily, stretching. 

“Thanks for letting me sleep in your room, honey-bunch.” 

“No problem,” Rhodey said. “Missed the constant AC/DC and late-night discussions about robotics.” 

“Not like I did much talking, Mr. Sap,” Tony teased. “Or was it me who mentioned that they had a favorite plate for dinner?” 

“Listen, it’s superior and you did not once interrupt that story to complain. I think I did a great job explaining it.” 

Tony laughs. 

“I’m gonna go get dressed, okay?” 

“Not until after present unwrapping,” Rhodey says. “We stay in pajamas.” 

“I’m cold,” Tony whines. 

Rhodey chucks his sweatshirt at him. 

“Then here you go.” 

Tony’s eyes light up as he shrugs it on, wiggling as he brings it up to his nose. It shouldn’t be that cute. But it is. 

“You are the light of my life.” 

Rhodey laughs, rolling his eyes. 

“Maybe. Now come on.” 

They head downstairs together, and they both get swept up into the speed of things, with Jeanie racing around the house and telling Tony that he got treats too, they just didn’t have a back-up stocking. 

“Hush,” Mr. Rhodes says, handing Tony a carefully wrapped gift. “After breakfast, we’ll go ahead and open it.” 

He smiles, and Rhodey thinks it’s the best thing he’ll ever see. 

- 

Christmas gifts, Rhodey thinks, are his new favorite thing to see Tony interact with. 

It’s painfully obvious that he’s never really had any personal gifts, anything that reminds people of himself. He carefully unwraps the paper, careful not to rip it. 

“You nerd,” Rhodey says, grinning. “Come on, show us what you got.” 

Tony laughs as he opens a box with two coffee mugs from the rest of the family, emblazoned with “Rhodes” on one cup, and the other being a simple red with gold trim. 

“They’re perfect,” he says. “Thank you so much.” 

“You’re feeding his coffee addiction,” Rhodey answers. 

“Like you aren’t doing the same,” Jeanie teases. “You made him his cups of coffee this morning.” 

“That is because I have trained him well,” Tony says, grinning. “Rhodey, here’s my present to you, open it.” 

He’s nervous. 

Both of them are, but Tony especially so. 

He told Rhodey once that he’s not good at shopping for other people. He tends to have the phrase “go big or go home” permanently circling in his mind, and it can lead to...complications. 

(Rhodey remembers the overhaul of his closet for his birthday, complete with a visit from a rather well-known designer.) 

Inside is a beautiful jacket. It’s all patchwork, artfully sewn together with embroidery thread spelling out “James” at the lapel. 

“I commissioned Janet,” Tony says, smiling softly. “She wants you to still walk in her fashion show, by the way. Says you’re a model.” 

Rhodey snorts, shrugging on the jacket. 

“You helped with this, right?” Rhodey says. “I can see it in the gold thread you got on the sleeves.” 

“I may have had some creative input.” 

“I love it,” Rhodey says. “Now here’s mine.” 

Tony breathes, and Rhodey wonders if this gift will be enough. He feels a bit stupid, it doesn’t seem like that great of a gift, in retrospect- 

It’s a puzzle. 

A puzzle of their favorite cafe and restaurant to go to at MIT. It was in a shop window, and Rhodey could tell that Tony would love it. 

On top is a scarf, since Tony gave away his last one to another student in their philosophy class. 

“I love it,” Tony breathes, tackling Rhodey in a hug. “I love it, I love it! We have to do the puzzle after this.” 

Mrs. Rhodes sends her husband a look. 

Yeah, Tony would be around for a long time. 

- 

They set up the puzzle on the floor of Rhodey’s room, clearing away any luggage. It’s silent for a while, Tony moving around the pieces and Rhodey looking for edge pieces. 

They work closely together, side by side. 

Rhodey can’t stop staring. 

He should be able to. He’s stopped himself before, but now? 

Sunlight is coming in through the window, playing around Tony’s fingers as he nimbly picks up puzzle pieces, and this is the eternity that Rhodey wants so badly. If he died right now, he thinks he would choose for Heaven to look like this. 

“You okay?” Tony asks, eyes looking up. He took his contacts out, and now he’s just in his tortoiseshell glasses, the ones that he secretly likes more and Rhodey loves. 

“I’m in love with you,” Rhodey blurts out, because he can’t stop thinking about how beautiful Tony is and how much he loves him. 

He realizes that this could very well be considered a mistake. Because they still have to live together and drive back together and it won’t be the same, and the residents will notice no matter how well they both act--

Tony pops his head right under Rhodey’s chin. 

“Kiss me?” 

That’s all it takes. 

They mess up part of the puzzle, but that’s okay. They find they don’t mind it too much. They can work on it later, when Tony’s done getting Rhodey out of his new jacket and Rhodey works his hands underneath Tony’s sweatshirt. 

-

Mama takes one look at them for dinner and grins. 

“Jeanie, you owe me a night of dish-washing.” 

“Seriously?” 

“Mama!” Rhodey hisses, embarrassed beyond belief. 

Tony just cackles, and elbows Rhodey out of the way so he can get to his chair at the table. 

“Couldn’t have fooled you for a second, could we?” Tony teases. 

“Not at all,” Mama states proudly. 

Rhodey rolls his eyes and squeezes Tony’s hand under the table. All will be well. 

- 

When they both get back to college, none of their residents are surprised, at least not until they have to have a “knocking before entering” policy put in place after one particular late morning. 

#lovelyirony writes #jeanie rhodes #mama rhodes #rhodeytony #ironhusbands #pepper potts #harley keener #gwen but i can't remember her last name #spidey gwen #gwen spider-man #kamala khan #peter parker #tony stark #rhodey

[demivampirew]

Say no to this.

Henry x Reader (wife) x Reader (the other woman)

Triggers: Angst; cheating, breakup, divorce (and crying).

A/N: This was inspired by two songs from the musical Hamilton: Say No to This and Burn, and it’s told from the perspective of the characters (Henry, Reader (Wife), Reader (the other woman)

You can find more of my writings in the Masterlist 

Having the chance to portray one of his favourite characters is an honour for which Henry will forever be thankful. Yet, he must admit that having to spend time apart from his family was not an easy task. 

He sat on the bed in the dark hotel room, only enlightened by the moonlight. On his phone screen, he saw the picture you’ve sent him earlier that day of you and your daughter playing, you dressed as a princess and the six-year-old as a dragon. “Oh, your mighty witcher, come and save me, please,” read the message under the picture. Henry missed dressing up in costumes and running around the house with his little angel, who would laugh uncontrollably every time he caught and started to tickle her.

It’s been over two months since he left for work; 60 plus days without feeling the lovely touch of your hands on his face, too much time without feeling the warmness of your body against his.

He laid on the bed, staring at the ceiling for an hour, unable to sleep when his phone announced that he had a new message.

“Are you awake? I can’t sleep,” y/n wrote. She was a friend he made on the set of the show - she worked as a personal assistant for one of the recurrent directors of the show and she was staying at the same hotel that Henry. “Yes. Can’t sleep either. Come if you want,” he replied, thinking that some company would help him to feel less lonely.

Fifteen minutes later there was a knock on the door. Henry opened the door and invited y/n to come in. Once inside, she faced him and smiled as she showed him the content of her bag: a PS and The Witcher 3 game. “I know you’re more into pc, but l don’t have a gaming pc here, so we will have to play with this, okay,” she said grinning.

“I remember you saying that you were good at this,” y/n while rolling her eyes, teasing him. “I am, but in the pc,” Henry defended himself with a playful smile.

They played the game for two hours before she suggested that it might be time for her to leave. Henry tried to disconnect the console from the tv but she told him to keep it, for now, so he could keep practising.

“Well, good night. I hope you can have a good sleep and tomorrow enjoy your free day,” y/n told him. “Same for you,” he said goodbye, but neither of them moved. They stared at each other for a long minute in silence. Henry’s hands reached for her face bringing it closer to his, culminating in a passionate kiss, while her arms embraced him.

Her naked body, covered only by the bed-sheets rested on the mattress as she slept. Henry looked at her for a moment and then walked towards the bathroom. He washed his face on the sink and then stared at the mirror, finding it hard to recognize the person that was reflected in the mirror. “I promise you that I will be forever faithful to you, my love” he once promised you, his lovely wife, and now the words echoed inside his mind, as stabs on his heart.

How could had he broken the promise he made you? Did he not loved you any more? No, that was sure of that, he loved you more than he had ever done. You no only made him happy and supported him through tough times, but you also gave him the thing that he treasured the most in the world: his daughter. But, he had to be honest with himself, for the first time in a long time and admit that things were not as they used to be. Before the birth of the little girl, you used to be inseparable. You would go with him everywhere in the world, game and laugh and made love every second you could. Now, you were parents; your lives centred on the precious angel and work and were often too tired and since the kid would like to sleep with you, often lacked intimacy.

The worst part of all: he wished that he could say that it was a one time mistake, but it became an affair that lasted for months.

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

You hated yourself. In the past, you’d constantly criticized “the other woman” for being malicious women who stole men from others. Now you had become one of them. Well, no completely. Sure, you were carrying an affair with a married man, but you weren’t a fool, you knew that you would never be able to “stole” anyone and he would never leave his wife for you; he never made such a promise and you knew him well enough to know that he loved his family more than anything in the world and he was being vulnerable due to the distance between his true woman and him. Were you a bad woman for being with a taken man knowing that he was in such a delicate emotional position? Maybe, but to be completely honest, so were you. Months before you met Henry, your fiancé cancelled the wedding because he had fallen in love with somebody else. You were feeling lonely and undesired and you had developed a crush on him before that first night. So, you didn’t find the strength to fight the desire and succumb to the temptation.

Every night you’ve spent together, with his strong arms embracing you as his lips caressed your body, felt amazing no matter how wrong it was. And, even if your heart ripped every time you remembered that he wasn’t truly yours - and you were reminded of that constantly, since there was no a single time in which he hadn’t unconsciously said his wife’s name as he reached climax, you couldn’t find it in you to put it a stop.

You knew that this would have a bad end. No matter the outcome, someone would get hurt. 

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

That day, your sister offered to take care of your six-year-old so you could have some time to yourself to process things.

Desperate to get some distance and to be alone, you rented a small cabin outside the city.

The sun was coming down when you lifted a bonfire outside the place and sat in front of it with a box that you’ve carried there moments before.

Your fingers caressed every picture - of your first date, your first anniversary as girlfriend and boyfriend; vacations, birthdays and even your wedding. Every photo would get wet with your tears before you threw them into the fire. All objects that reminded of the love you once shared, ended up becoming ashes. Letters, poems, teddy bears, roses that you dried; everything. The only surviving things were the pictures you shared with your daughter, but you would make sure to send them to his mother because you didn’t want to see them any more, the pain was too great.

Finally, you took from your pocket the pictures you printed before to look at them for one last time. They were screenshots from a celebrity news website and the headline read “The Witcher star Henry Cavill is seen kissing a mystery woman”, followed by paparazzi photos of him with someone on the balcony of his hotel room. Angrily, you crashed the prints and let them burn into they became nothing.

With nothing more to do, you watched the flames, as you let your tears fall, feeling completely and utterly broken.

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

The production was over. After the news crashed, Henry had to continue filming, pretending that nothing happened, while some people looked at him as if he was a monster. Could he blame them for that?

When the article about his affair was published, his brother Charlie was the one who delivered the bad news - his stepdaughter had seen it and told him about it.

He didn’t know what to do. He called his wife over and over, but she never answered. All-day long he tried to communicate with his love, but every time without luck.

 Y/N tried to call him, too, but this time he was the one who ignored the call. He had nothing against her. Henry knew that she could no be blamed for his mistake, but he couldn’t talk to her right now. His wife was his priority.

Unfortunately, the only response he got from her was from her sister, two days later, letting him know that she was going to file for a divorce and she never wanted to see him or talk to him again. That she would only allow him to contact her, through her or another family member and elusively for things related to their daughter. She was going to share custody with him, but he would have to pick up and leave the girl on her sister or parent’s house.

Now, months later, he driving to his sister-in-law’s house to pick up his daughter and to leave the divorce papers that he had to sing.

There were no words to explain how much it hurt him to lose the woman he loved deeply. The only consolation was that his family continued to show him love and support as they always did. And, his daughter, unaware of the reason why her mommy and daddy decided to go separate ways, still love him enormously and would fill him with joy every minute of every day that he had her.

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

It was obvious that there was no going to be a good end to the affair - it never does. You knew someone would get hurt, but you’d never imagined that it would be all three of you.

Terrible didn’t even begin to explain how bad you felt. Of all the three of you, you were the one who got it the “best”, since luckily the pictures only showed your hair in a bun and your back, so only a few close people knew that it was you and they were polite enough to keep the secret to avoid you getting harassed. Although, just in case, you dried your hair and got a new haircut.

Henry’s wife filed for the divorce after she found out about the affair. He let you know via text when he put an end to things and told you he could no longer see you. Even if there was no chance to get back with her, he couldn’t be with you because he loved her too much and you reminded him of the mistake he made. As he suggested, you continued working for a few more weeks there to avoid people finding out that it was you, but later quit.

That was by far the worst mistake that you’ve ever made. So much people got hurt; a girl now has two parents that can’t be in the same room, two people who loved each other who can’t be together because the ghost of you would always be present to remind them of the mistake and a person who’s affection was never truly corresponded and caused the break of a family.

Therapy has been truly beneficial in helping you heal and leaving the past in the past.

Today a new article about Henry was posted online. It consisted of pictures of him and his cute girl buying a Christmas tree and he was laughing at his daughter's funny faces.

#henry cavill #henry cavill fanfic #henry cavill fanfiction #henry cavill one shot #henry cavill x reader #henry cavill angst #demivampirew