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moldisgoodforyou · 3 years

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kickboxing

sorry i don’t care abt my titles and it clearly shows !!!! this one is dedicated to @sunnypogue and @everybodyscupoftea you guys should see the pegging jokes in our groupchat

wordcount: 3.2k

warnings: it’s flirty at the start and then it’s smutty at the end

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“Where are you going?” Colin questioned as Rafe and Sophie came down the stairs, both dressed in workout gear. Rafe was normally adamant on running alone (“it’s like my therapy,” he’d said, only for James to mutter in response “maybe you should try real therapy”).

“We’re doing a kickboxing class. It’s free at the student rec center.” Sophie responded as she tied up her hair into a ponytail, swatting Rafe’s hand away when he tugged at the ends of her hair.

“You two? You’re trying this together?” James asked skeptically, eyeing the both of them.

“Yeah, why?” Sophie asked, bouncing on the balls of her feet as she put up her arms in defense, pretending to punch Rafe’s arm. “I’m gonna be great at it.”

“You two are gonna kill each other.” Colin remarked dryly, shaking his head. “You’re too competitive.”

“We are not -” Rafe started in protest.

“Last week the kitchen was covered in flour because one of you started a fight when you were making cookies. Neither of you have a limit.”

“It was his fault -”

“It was your fault!” Rafe exclaimed, ducking his head when Sophie pretend-punched him again. “Sophie, if you hit me one more fucking time -”

“What. What are you gonna do.” She rolled her eyes and returned to bouncing on her feet, going to punch his chest a little harder this time, just because she could.

James snorted.

“Don’t encourage her.” Rafe glared at James as he caught her fist in his hand, narrowing his eyes at her. “I’m kicking your ass in this class now. Just you wait.”

“I’d love to see you try.” She grinned and smacked a kiss to his cheek. “C’mon. The gym awaits.”

“My money’s on Soph.” James commented as he watched the two leave hand in hand.

“Oh, absolutely. He won’t stand a chance.” Colin agreed, a small smile on his face as he watched Rafe jog around to her side to beat her before she could open her own car door. “Fucking simp.”

____

After they both got all the equipment on and did a small warmup, the lesson began. “Everyone pick your partner, please!” The instructor announced, and Sophie turned to the guy next to her with a grin, about to open her mouth.

“Do you want to partner up?” The guy asked politely, offering his hand to shake.

Rafe stepped in between the two and slung his arm around Sophie’s shoulders with a scowl. “She has a partner, thanks though.”

“Oh. Sorry.” The guy apologized, turning away to look for someone else.

She raised her eyebrows at Rafe. “I was giving you the chance to pair up with someone more your skill level, baby.”

He scoffed. “Okay. Whatever. You’re just trying to piss me off.”

“I would never!” She mock-gasped, tugging off her shirt and tossing it at him to leave her in a sports bra and small tight shorts. The attire wasn’t out of place for the class, fitting in with the other girls, but Rafe narrowed his eyes.

“Sophie.”

“Yes.”

He stepped closer, lowering his voice. “Don’t be a brat.”

“I’m not. You’re overthinking. Pay attention.” She checked her hip against his, turning her attention to the instructor as they went over a series of standard kicks and punches. Both of them were ultra-tuned in, carefully correcting each other’s form if something looked off and encouraging each other after a strong hit.

After he took her down - again - with a well-timed kick to the calves to sweep her off her feet, she clambered back up and shoved at his shoulder. “Hit me harder.”

“What? I am hitting you.”

“You’re going too easy on me.” She squared up again, bouncing on her feet. “Stop holding back.”

He squared up too, responding with a quick punch to her stomach that she deflected. “I don’t want to hurt you.”

“You won’t. Come on, try harder.” She tried another series of punches that he easily blocked again.

“Okay, but don’t complain because you’re too slow.” He caught her off guard with a punch to the ribs, making her groan.

“Fuck. Okay.” She breathed out, trying to kick out at him. He caught her ankle easily, throwing her off balance and sending her toppling to the floor. She lay on her back for a moment, trying to catch her breath and glanced up at him. His smug little smile was enough fuel to get her up again.

“You alright? Need some water?” He asked, concerned, and reached out to her on instinct.

She took the opportunity to send a punch straight to his gut, making him keel over. “I’m fine, pay attention.”

“Jesus.” He breathed out, standing up again and tried to hit her again unsuccessfully. “You’re not mad at me, right? ‘Cause if you are, we should probably talk it out first. Did I do something?”

“No.” She retaliated with a kick to his hip, knocking him off balance again. “No, just trying to do this right. It’s like, pent up tension from when we used to fight for real.”

He laughed and hit her a little harder, taking advantage of her surprised reaction and hooked his leg under hers, knocking her to the ground and pinning her easily. “Got it. Maybe try harder though?”

“I could peg you, you know.” She muttered in his ear as he laid on top of her. He choked, eyes going wide, completely caught off guard.

“You could what?”

That was enough distraction for her to flip them over, despite his six foot three frame, and she grinned down at him, triumphant. “You heard me.”

It only took another moment for him to flip them back over and he pinned her down for real, letting her go after a few seconds. “I won.”

“Hardly.” She argued, accepting his hand to get up. “I almost had you.”

“By manipulation alone.” He retorted. “You’re really cute when you’re trying, though.”

“Fuck off.” She scowled, shaking out her arms. “Let’s go again.”

He grinned, doing the same. “You didn’t mean that.”

“Let’s go again? Yeah, I do, we have fifteen minutes left here.” She attempted a series of hits, batted away by him.

“No. What you just said. The - the thing.” He faltered, cursing when she kicked at his thigh. Even though she was fairly flexible, he still had quite a few inches on her and the balance of height and strength was clearly off.

“I absolutely fucking did.” Her eyes were bright and he was surprised she wasn’t holding back a laugh, but smirking instead.

“No. You’re just trying to catch me off guard. You and those tiny little shorts.” He retorted, letting his gaze trail over the small drops of sweat gathering across her chest.

She did the same - she’d been thinking the entire time about peeling the sweaty tank off his body and having her way with him in the locker room showers. (It’d never happen, of course, she’d die if they got caught, but a girl can dream.) When he checked her back into reality with a firm but gentle kick to the stomach, making her stumble backward, she shook her head. “Sorry. What?”

He smirked. “Pay attention. I don’t want to hurt you.”

“I am paying - god. You suck.” She breathed out, aiming a punch at his chin.

He batted it away easily. “Hey! Not the face.”

“Oh my god, you’re such a Leo.” She grumbled, pretend-swinging at his cheek just to antagonize him.

He just grabbed her wrist to stop her, using his height to his advantage. “I still don’t understand any of that. Can we get smoothies after this?”

“Fucking - focus, Rafe.” She hissed, wrenching her arm free and tried kicking at him again. He turned away from the kick and caught her with a couple punches to the shoulders, making her hiss. After a few deflected hits back and forth on both their ends, he managed to catch her off guard again and pin her, laying on her like a dead weight as she struggled.

“Aw. That was cute.”

She bit at his earlobe, making him giggle - literally - and scrunch up his shoulders.

“Sophie!”

“That was cute.” She retorted, flinging his own words back at him. “Get the fuck off me.”

“Only if you admit I’m better than you at this.”

“Never in a million fucking years.” She growled, shoving at him.

“Must you be so stubborn?” He rolled his eyes, only getting off her when the instructor clapped her hands to signal the end of the class. He tugged his gloves off and leaned down to give her a hand.

She laid there for another moment to catch her breath, eyes squeezed shut, then accepted his hand to hoist her up and leaned into his side as the instructor thanked everyone and handed out flyers about the next classes offered.

He glanced down at her, affectionately stroking his hand over the top of her head. “You good?”

“Yeah.” She nodded, letting him pull off her gloves to return them. “Just tired. And probably bruised.”

Rafe laughed, grabbing his keys and their water bottles then slung his arm around her shoulders to walk them out. “You said not to go easy. Do you want to go home, take a nap?”

“I’d rather do something else.” She muttered, matching his stride to walk with him out to the car.

“Huh?” He asked as he opened the car door for her, offering her a hand to step up. Once she sat, she fisted the front of his tank and pulled him close to kiss him, hard. “Oh, hello.” He mumbled against her lips, caught off guard.

“Hi.” She breathed out, pressing her forehead against his. “I really wanted to fuck you in the locker room. You’re so hot when you’re sweaty.”

His eyes went wide and he didn’t dare move, frozen in his spot. “We haven’t left the parking lot yet. We can go inside.”

Sophie giggled and pressed her hand flat against his chest, pushing him back. “We can’t do that. You know that.”

“Says who?” He leaned in again to kiss her hungrily, only to be pushed away by her again.

“We’re not breaking the rules. My place or yours?”

“Uh...check Find My Friends. See who’s home.” He jogged around to the driver’s seat, jamming his key in the ignition, and started up the car.

She swiped through her phone, then nodded. “Okay. My place, but we’re quiet anyways, so it doesn’t really matter.” She glanced over at him, then down to his lap. “Are you seriously already -”

“Yeah. Have been since you took your shirt off, I’m surprised you didn’t notice.” He gave her a sheepish grin, his cheeks going red, and shifted in his seat. “And it does matter.”

“Why?” She leaned over and swiped her thumb over a drop of sweat from his forehead before it could fall into his eye.

“Why am I hard? You’re really asking that?”

“No.” She giggled, shoving at his shoulder. “Why does it matter if anyone’s home?”

“Because. I want to hear you.” He raised his eyebrows at her. “It’s more fun that way.”

“Mmhmm.” She let her hand slide down to the back of his neck, playing with the hair at the nape of her neck.

“So, uh, what was that, that you said earlier?”

“Hm?”

“The thing. Uh, when you pinned me. Just for a second though.” He refused to look at her, his face turning more and more red and she could see a clear tent in his shorts.

“Ohhh.” She grinned, leaning closer. “The pegging thing.”

“Yes. That. I thought you’d only been with one other guy?” He glanced at her and tapped his fingers on the steering wheel, clearly nervous.

“I’ve been with four others -”

“No. Just sex. Like, all the way.”

“Oh. Yeah, just you and someone else.” She nodded. “What are you getting at?”

“So you, uh.” He pushed his sweaty hair back from his forehead, glancing at her again. “You pegged this guy?”

Sophie burst out laughing, shaking her head. “Rafe, what?”

“You said it so casually earlier! Like you’ve done it before!” He exclaimed, reaching over and grabbing her hand. “So you haven’t?”

“No, oh my god, I haven’t pegged anyone.” She giggled, kissing the back of his hand. “You’re so dumb sometimes.”

“Why’d you bring it up then!” Rafe retorted, all the tension gone from his body.

“I just wanted to catch you off guard.” She grinned, sliding her hand up his thigh and grazed over his hard cock in his shorts, putting on a teasing tone. “Why? Do you want that?”

He jerked his leg, cursing as he bumped his knee into the steering wheel. “I - I thought only lesbians did that.”

“No. I don’t think so. Julia -”

“No!” Rafe exclaimed, slapping his hand over her mouth. “I do not want to hear about the girls and their sex lives -”

She licked his palm to get him to let go and immediately regretted it, tasting the sweat. “Oh my god, no, nothing happened. She almost hooked up with a guy that asked her to but she got too scared.”

“Huh.” He wrinkled his nose, more focused on trying to get the mental image of Julia out of his head.

“I’d do it, you know. If you wanted me to.” She raised her eyebrows at him, dropping the teasing tone.

“I have no doubt you would. But I think that’d be too much power going to your head.” He grinned as he pulled into her driveway. “Plus you hate taking control in bed anyways.”

“That is not - I’ll fucking show you.” She protested, hopping out of the car and striding into her house without waiting for him. He just snorted and followed her in and up the stairs, unsurprised that she took it as a challenge. When he made it up, a couple seconds later, he opened her bedroom door to be greeted by her leaning against the wall in the tiny little shorts and her sports bra, her shirt and shoes discarded on the floor.

“Hello.” He greeted, amused, and closed the door behind him.

“I want you undressed.” She replied evenly, eyeing him over.

“That’s hardly fair, you’re still dressed.” He shot back but kicked off his shoes anyways. He loved when she got like this, all bossy and demanding - it just reminded him of what they were like before they dated and how many times he wished their arguments before could end in kissing and making up.

“Okay.” She opened her arms wide. “Have at me.”

He grinned and tugged off his tank top, striding toward her. “Thought you were taking control?”

“I am, I’m telling you what to do, but you get to do the work. I’m tired - Rafe!” She squealed, giggling as he picked her up and tossed her onto the bed.

“Yes ma’am?” He hooked his fingers into the sides of her shorts, hovering over her and raised his eyebrows as he glanced up. “You gonna instruct me, or…?”

“Mm. Pretty sure you know what to do from here, actually.” She leaned back with a smug smile, intertwining her fingers behind her head.

He snorted and dragged her shorts down her legs. “Brat.” He pressed teasing kisses up her thighs, spreading her legs apart slowly.

She shuddered in anticipation as the cool air hit her, sitting up a little bit. “Rafe.”

“Yeah.” He kissed everywhere but where she wanted, making her squirm. He dug his fingers into her thighs and dragged the tip of his tongue up the inside of her thigh.

“Please.”

“Please what.” He kissed up her stomach, making her huff in frustration as she tangled her fingers in his hair.

“Please, just - oh, fuck.” She gasped as he slid his thumb over her clit, slipping two fingers inside of her easily as he grazed his teeth over her collarbone. He laughed at how easy she was to please, how predictable she could be sometimes - though he did suppose he knew her body like the back of his hand now. She whined quietly underneath him, pressing her hips toward his hand. “So good, Rafe.”

“Louder. I want to hear you.” He encouraged, curling his fingers toward himself. It only took a few more breathy moans and quick passes of his thumb over her clit before she was whimpering against his lips, unable to stay quiet. “C’mon, Soph, want you to come for me.”

She nodded, desperate, as he worked her body expertly. When she finally came, she curled her arm around his neck, holding him tight to her. “Fuck, I love you,” she breathed out, pressing a kiss to his temple.

“Love you too.” He mumbled against her collarbone, nipping at the skin. “Even if you are a brat.”

“You love it.” She giggled, leaning back enough so she could wrestle her sports bra off, struggling a little as it stuck to her skin.

He helped her tug it off, kicking off his shorts too. “Are we still pretending you’re in charge here, or…?”

She was too tired to argue but scowled anyways, gesturing loosely at the nightstand. “Yeah. Grab a condom, I want you to fuck me. Can we get sushi later?”

Rafe laughed, leaning over, and grabbed a condom, rolling it down himself. “It’s Sunday. Our place is closed.” He teased his cock against her, glancing up at her for approval.

She nodded, sliding her hand up her back to comb her fingers through his hair. “Right. Um - fuck -” She gasped as he entered her. “Thai?”

“Nah. Burgers?” He thrust into her hard, making her moan. “Or we could go downtown for that other sushi spot?”

Sophie closed her eyes for a moment, trying her best to think straight when he was fucking her, but felt like her brain was foggy. “Uh - what? Don’t remember.”

He smirked and continued his steady pace. “Can’t think?”

“No - just, fuck, right there, faster.”

“Pizza instead?” He pinched her nipple, grinning when she moaned just a little bit louder. “Close?”

“Yes, please - not the pizza -” She chased his lips with hers, meeting him in a heated kiss.

He laughed, thrusting a little harder, groaning as she tugged a little too hard on his hair.

“Sorry - didn’t mean to -”

“No, fuck, felt good.” He corrected quickly and thrust a few more times after she came with a breathy moan, reaching his own orgasm. He lay on top of her afterward like dead weight, panting hard. “What did we decide?”

“I dunno.” She replied, dropping her head back against the pillows. “I can’t think straight and you’re over here having a full on conversation like you’re putting in zero effort.”

“It’s all that work at the gym.” He quipped, rolling off of her and tossed the condom in the trash. “C’mon, you need to shower.”

“Noooo.” She whined. “I’m starving. What do you want?”

“Whatever you want to decide. The faster your slow ass is in the shower, the faster we can go eat.” He encouraged, stretching out. “Go.”

“Come with me. Wash my hair.” Sophie argued, tugging on his arm. “Did I win today?”

He snorted. “Like, one round out of six. Loser buys dinner, that’s what we agreed, right?” He teased, giving her a short, chaste kiss before dragging himself up.

“That hardly seems fair.” She grinned when he stood and followed, rising up on her toes to peck his lips quickly. “Hey.”

“Hey.”

He should have known what was about to come out of her mouth just by the smug smirk that graced her lips. “I’ll peg you if you buy dinner.”

“Jesus Christ, Sophie.”

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#rafe cameron #rafe cameron fanfic #rafe cameron smut #outer banks #outer banks fanfic #outer banks smut #obx smut #obx #obx fanfic #rafe x sophie #mine #frat rafe #college rafe

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adorethedistance · 3 years

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City Slicker, Cowboyfriend - Owen Joyner x Reader

JATP masterlist

Warnings: Swearing, nerves, mentions of covid.

Words: 2163

Summary: You’re starting to have doubts about moving all the way to Norman until a shopping trip to Ikea turns into the meet-cute you’ve been waiting for.

A/n: This isn’t a request or one of my Valentines day fics, this is just something that I have had stuck in my head ever since Owen posted this on IG and bc I’m facing total writers block with my other pieces I cranked this one out in a few hours to get the ball rolling again. Hopefully. Enjoy this totally unproofed, fluffy madness!! (Because who doesn’t need more Owen content in their life?)

There are perks to moving and one of them is undoubtedly: shopping. For furniture, home decor, kitchen utensils, whatever! Granted, shopping alone can be tedious and, for some, like pulling teeth, thus, I’ve enlisted the help of my best friends Leila and Chelsea. I didn’t even have to bribe them to come because everyone loves getting lost in Ikea. It’s one of the best things about the human experience.

“It’s been so long since I’ve been in an Ikea,” Leila says to no one in particular as we walk through the onslaught of staged bedrooms.

“What?! Are you telling me you don’t get meatballs and lawn chairs on a weekly basis?” My exaggeration makes Leila laugh as she steps into one of the display kitchens. Looking between me and Chelsea she asks,

“What would you do if I turned the handle then a jet of water sprayed out?”

“Die, I guess.”

The three of us continue through the faux house displays and past the mattresses despite Leila’s urge to jump on every single one. As we walk through the section of different lighting features, I sigh with a frown as I think about college. I changed my bachelor’s to an associate’s so I could graduate in two years. Chelsea’s parents moved out here at the end of our senior year in high school, and she moved with them to study in Norman. Leila in turn went to Arizona for an athletic physical therapy gig, leaving me to face college alone in L.A.. In the two years the three of us were apart, we missed each other more and more, and after determining which of the three states we lived in was cheapest, we packed up and headed East. Covid kind of delayed our plans. But after a few months, I picked Leila up from Arizona and together we chased open job opportunities into Norman, Oklahoma. The three of us found an apartment space to live in together and thus, we ended up in Ikea on this fine Sunday afternoon.

Snapping back into reality I see Leila standing directly under a light that’s hanging very low from the ceiling. Once standing directly underneath it, she pulls down her mask and opens her mouth, rising to her toes to eat the fixture.

“Leila, don’t you dare fellate that light bulb! You’re gonna get us kicked out.”

I swear I’m practically their mom when it comes to behaving in public. Figuring they can’t hurt themselves in the college dorm section, I lead them quickly through it and into the giant furniture warehouse section. On the far wall, I see a large poster of a couple smiling brightly behind Chelsea, but I don’t bother to read the text. Leila and I spot the poster at the same time, and the imagery jogs her memory.

“Chelsea, how’s Hunter? Haven’t heard from him slash about him in like a week,” she asks about Chelsea’s boyfriend of a year.

“Oh, yeah, he tore a ligament in his wrist.”

“What?!”

“Yeah, I guess he moved it wrong or something and put too much stress on the area that it just tore. He was moving hay bales into the horse stables.”

“As opposed to the chicken stables,” Leila judges under her breath, which makes me snicker as a result.

“I still can’t believe you’re dating a literal cowboy,” I interject, “Like, I know we’re in Oklahoma, and he’s from Tennessee, but we saw Texas on the way out here and that’s cowboy country. Norman seems more...” I trail off in search of delicate phrasing.

“Just barely marry your cousin territory, but still downing chewing tobacco whilst driving a lifted truck?” Leila hits the nail squarely on the head.

“Yeah, that sounds about right-” Before I can continue giving my thoughts on Norman, I cut myself off at the sound of laughter behind me.

“Sorry. We weren’t trying to eavesdrop, that was just really funny.” When I turn around, I see a guy roughly our age dressed in all black with bleach-blonde hair, speaking through light, broken laughter.

“No worries,” I dismiss the apology as we pass by one another, and out from the dressers section. The three of us continue into the different sections, and come to a stop once I see we’re exactly where we need to be: dining room shit!

“Cowboy boyfriends aside- oh my gosh: cowboy boyfriends. Cowboyfriends,” I say getting lost in my new terminology. Both of my friends share a mix of laughter and gasps and my ingeniousness. “Anyway. Cowboyfriends aside, how is Avery?” I ask Leila who begins blushing madly.

“She’s really good. We were just making plans for our three year anniversary, which reminds me to tell y’all I’m flying back to Phoenix to surprise her.”

“Awwww,” I nearly tear up and the sweet image of Leila and her girlfriend reuniting, “Y’all are so cute. Both of you and your partners. You know, being the only single friend in this group has made life suck a lot. Y’all are so happy and in love and not dead inside. Honestly? Get fucked both of you.” Despite my harsh words, the three of us break into a lighthearted conglomerate of laughter.

“We’ll find you someone… eventually.” Leila pretends she also can’t hear the last part of her sentence despite being the one saying it.

“I know, but I don’t think it’s in the cards for me to find love in Norman. I don’t need a cowboyfriend, and we’re not gonna find a true city slicker here either.”

When I finish my statement, I see our blonde friend seems to have followed us. I observe he comes to a stop in front of another guy in a flannel with a shopping cart. The way they jump into conversation with one another parallels the animated body language Leila, Chelsey, and I share. I continue to watch their exchange as Chelsea speaks up.

“Maybe you need someone right down the middle.”

“Yeah, like a guy who drives a truck but uses it to transport Ikea furniture instead of a whole ass tree that he’ll carve into a chair.” A small laugh escapes my lips, at both Leila’s statement, and the scene ahead of Blondie pretending to strangle his friend over something. I’m snapped out of my nosy yet endeared stare as a third guy appears. He’s a sandy blonde with billowing locks tucked under a trucker hat. And he came from behind me and my two friends to place something in their cart which keeps his back toward me. When he turns back around, my mind goes blank. Any thoughts of shopping for dining room chairs has left my mind. He is wearing a face mask, but he has such nice eyes that he could have a giraffe snout under the mask for all I care. I see him look up from the shelves, directly into my eyes. We stay locked for a moment before he breaks away and turns to his friends. I slowly turn to my friends too who are both giving me the exact same look of excitement and conspiracy.

“He’s really cute,” I sigh out with a laugh, swooning much louder than I’d have preferred.

“He has a face mask on,” Leila points out, her expression dropping from excited to cynical.

“Still! I can just tell.”

“Girl, what are you doing? Talk to him!” Chelsea whisper-shrieks.

“Shhh, I cannot take you anywhere!”

Glancing back at the handsome stranger, we connect eyes once more and I feel my face heat furiously as I realize he was already looking at me. I’m the first to break; I consult my friends for the best course of action and as I’m turned 180 to face them, Chelsea starts pretending to hyperventilate excitedly. Leila looks over my shoulder for me, discreetly surveying the other trio in the dining chairs aisle.

“Don’t look now, but he’s talking to his friends and looking between them and you.” I can hear in her voice she’s trying her best not to smile despite wearing a face mask.

“Should I give him my number?”

“Yes!”

“What are you waiting for?”

“I’m nervous! What if he’s gay?”

“Will you just get over there? I promise you a gay man would not be wearing what he’s wearing right now. Maybe a lesbian,” Leila adds for good measure.

“You guys are freaking me out, I need you to leave so I know you’re not judging my flirting.” I shoo my best friends out of the aisle as inconspicuous as possible. Kinda wish blondie would’ve done the same because when I turn back around, the other trio hasn’t moved and the only one looking at me is the one in all black. He quickly averts his eyes though and I take one last deep breath before walking over to the stranger. I tilt my chin up ever so slightly to fake a sense of confidence that I unmistakably don’t have right now.

“Hey.” Really, Y/n? Hey??

“Hey,” he greets back breathily. Why is he nervous? I’m the one who gets to be nervous! Man, he’s really cute. I can’t fuck this one up. I’m not doing so stellar right now. Perhaps you should say something else, dipshit?

“Uhm,” I should’ve scripted this. “I just wanted to say that-” You’ve got this. Don’t be a bummer. “I-uh, I think you’re really cute and I was wondering if I could give you my number?” My speech is slow, each word deliberate in spite of the fact that I feel like I’m having an out of body experience right now. I’m not the one in control of the words that are coming out of my mouth.

Upon realizing why I walked over, blondie’s friends take the question as a sign to leave and less than inconspicuously back away from the two of us. Trucker hat spares them one last glance over his left shoulder and judging by the look flannel gives him, they were definitely talking about me in their team huddle.

“Uh, yeah. I was gonna ask for your instagram- if you have one, that is.”

“I’m cool with both.” The two of us reach for our phones and unlock them with anxious hands. I move to hand him my phone with instagram open, and he trades me for his which has a new contact open. I type my name and put my favorite heart emoji next to it after triple checking the number is correct. Wow, you’re just so ballsy today, Y/n!!!!! I give him back the phone, scanning the instagram account he’s just opened and followed for me. I hear him exhale a little harder as a small laugh and can only imagine it’s from the stupid heart emoji.

“Owen,” I say in a hushed, endeared voice, fully not intending to say it out loud. “You have a million followers?! Oh, you’re an actor. OH… You’re an actor.” I really don’t need to be speaking my entire thought process right now in the middle of this Ikea. Exhaling a small laugh of my own, I see we already have a small bunch of mutuals, one of which is… Chelsea??? Looking up from my phone I turn around to see Chelsea and Leila watching the interaction from around the corner of one of the industrial shelves.

In the flurry of scattered likes, I see him find my account and follow me back. I accept the request, nervous of what he thinks of me without a face mask on. What do I think of him without a face mask on? Going back to his account, seeing his entire face is even better than just his eyes. I was right, Leila: he is cute.

“You’re really pretty,” I hear him almost sigh as he combs through the grid of my account. The comment makes my heart beat all the much faster and I finally look upward to get a glimpse of Owen in the flesh. Still as beautiful as the last time I checked!

Sparing a quick glance over my shoulder, he looks back down at me and laughs,

“I think your friends got tired of waiting.”

“I think yours did, too.” The other members of our trios come back into the aisle we had kicked them from more or less two minutes ago. We connect eyes once more and stare longingly, wordlessly at one another, so lost in each other’s beauty our friends have to break up the staring contest of infatuation.

“Y/n?” I hear Leila behind me.

“Uh, well, I have to get back to chair shopping, but- text me later?”

“For sure.”

“For sure,” I mimic his voice.

“Guess I’ll see you later. Y/n.”

“Yeah.” And with that, we’re pulled apart by our respective best friends, through the vast expanse of the Norman Ikea.

“What was that?” Chelsea asks, excitedly linking arms with me.

“I don’t know I- Wait, you have some explaining to do!”

***

Taglist: @caitsymichelle13 @kaitlyn2907 @itz-jas @crybabyddl @kcd15 @kinda-really-lost @calamitykaty @morganayennefertyrell @n0wornever @dream-a-little-bigger-x @mrstodorooki @vicesvsvirturesfanfic @curlybrownhairedboys @amazinggracy @kaitieskidmore1 @asdfghjkl-fanfics @ghostlygreenbean @juliefromaustralia @merceret @jemimah-b99 @ifilwtmfc @thesweetestsinner @imsydneywalker @lovesanimals @thebloodthirstyvampress @bumbleberry-pie @losers-club6 @tefilovesreading @dmcfarland1@joynerxmercer @kexrtiz @talk-on-the-street @phantompogues @konciousdreamer @sunsetcurvej @warmnesss0ul @lilyjoyner

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miss-choco-chips · 4 years

Text

From Baby to Babe~

I once wrote this https://miss-choco-chips.tumblr.com/post/190983954737/theres-a-point-in-all-the-rouges-gallerys-lives and @theturdis wanted a fic about it, so... Just remember, you asked for this hon. This ain’t my fault.

Tagging @animemangasoul who just told me to tag them the next time I wrote something.

Fair warning everyone, I somehow did this in one sitting, and, I can’t stress this enough, there’s no edit whatsoever. Like, none. Enjoy, if you can ignore the eyesore of my multiple mistakes.

----.----

Bruce despairs in the knowledge of his sons growing up hot.

---.---

When Dick came back to Gotham as the new Nightwing for the first time ever… well.

Bruce didn't like to think about the first suit, back then. All those feathers and glitter, the plunging V neck, the mullet… His son had insisted on it being the trend at the time. Bruce just couldn't grasp how was he supposed to blend into the night and take anyone by surprise. There was too much... everything, and not nearly enough stealth.

He was an innocent man, back then. He looked at a horse gift in the mouth and was completely blindsided when it raised on it’s hind legs and kicked him where it hurted.

When Selina approached him a few weeks after N had come to him with the blueprints of his new suit, he had been quiet relaxed. Or as relaxed as one can be when crouched like a gargoyle and looking over the city. He was just getting back on track after… Jason (it still hurted, and probably always would, to think about him), his new partner helping in ways he couldn’t foresee, violence tampered by Tim’s brilliant smile every time he came to Bruce with the answer to a particularly difficult riddle he had been having trouble with. He had to get his act together, because Tim was so bright, mind so beyond what Bruce could ever aspire to, and he was at such an impressionable age… If Batman allowed himself to fall deeper into despair, he would set a dangerously bad example to the kid, which could be really damaging… to the world at large. He was the kind of kid that B wanted on the side of Justice, because the opposite would be quite catastrophic.

So yes, he had been very distracted lately, merely glancing over Dick’s blueprints, noticing the lack of brilliantine and gold, and giving his wholehearted approval.

Stupid, innocent man he was. He had needed Catwoman of all people to open his eyes.

(To this day, he still wondered about Alfred’s reason for not warning him sooner. Perhaps, and this was the theory he had running, the old butler had been just so delighted at seeing the Disco suit gone, he would approve almost everything in its place, and Dick’s virtue had never been his responsibility to preserve, so to hell with it.

Betrayal always hurted the worse when it came from those closest to you)

-Hey handsome.

-Cat.

She rolled her eyes, already beyond his brood, and just walked out of the light, joining him into the shadows with a sigh at his dramatics.

-No theft today?

The woman grimaced a bit, letting herself fall at his side with as much grace as she did everything else. Diamond claws scratched at her scalp, carefully not tearing the frail skin, and Batman finally conceded and turned his head to look at her directly. She was never so hesitant.

-Look. I really, really don’t want to be the one telling you this. I would literally rather leave this to anyone else, but… it’s getting out of hand.

-What is it?

-Nightwing. Hadn’t you noticed anything about him?

That got whatever rest of his attention she hadn’t already caught. Speaking of his sons always had that effect on him.

-What happened to him?

-Nothing, just… He’s been out a lot, hasn’t he? I thought he didn’t operate in the city as much…

She was stalling, which was worryingly out of character for Selina. But since this was about Nightwing, he had to be patient and let her talk her way into whatever information she was going to lay on him.

-I’ve been… -training a new Robin, not that he could tell her that- busy, lately. He’s picking up the slack while I’m focusing on it -a.k.a helping him both patrol the streets and teach Tim.

-I noticed the changes, yes, whatever therapy you’re doing is great for you -she encouraged, more honest than he thought her capable of. He could already see her deadpan when she figured out the reason for his change, his ‘therapy’ as she put it, was an eleven year old thrusting himself at this dangerous life of his.

-Hm.

-Well… Anything noteworthy about him lately? Crime Fighting related?

Since she was stressing the words so much, he gave them deep thought.

-He has been on a streak lately. A lot more arrests… What’s your point?

He could almost see the second she internally said ‘fuck it’ and just blurted everything out.

-That’s because his new suit is, and this is coming from me, B, indecent, and every criminal out there is focusing more on his ass than his punches and flips so he’s kicking ass easier.

Bruce kicked his way to the forefront of his mind, the father in him hip checking the vigilante out of the way so he could properly freak out.

What? He knew the suit was a lot more tight than the former one, but he’d been so relieved at it being mostly black he hadn’t given more than a cursory look… and he barely saw the man in it, often training together in workout clothes and coming and going to patrol at different times. He… wasn’t prepared for this.

-Excuse me?

-I’m sorry, someone had to tell you. Normally, I’d be completely on board with a suit change from boring to daring, and you know of my good relationship with leather, but I’ve literally seen that kid grow up. If I have to listen to Harley talking about Nightwing’s ass one more time, Ivy won’t need to worry any more about the Joker killing her, because I will do it myself.

He wanted to thank her for standing up for his son, but he was still busy internally screaming.

-You want to hear Riddle’s last work? While looking directly at N, he asked ‘is buttcheeks one word? Or should I spread them?’. And then he winked. Winked, B. At your eighteen year old kid. You need to get your ass on gear and make sure Nighting changes his. I mean, I’m getting used to it, but you’ve been doing great lately, violent wise, and I’d hate for you to relapse because you heard Zsaasz asking N to tie his ropes tighter and harder.

B… needed to go back to the cave and call N back early. They had to talk.

----.----

When Jason came back, the first thing to break past the ‘holy shit my son is alive’ wall surrounding his brain was just how tall he had grown. How strong, how broad, how big. The little boy he had picked up from the street, underfeed and hurting everywhere, had turned out almost bigger than B himself and twice as brave. The wave of pride he felt was massive, but the feeling was short lived.

Jason was killing criminals, had even attempted to murder Tim. Even if the father in him could, in his desperation, try and overlook the first bit, the same side couldn’t get past the second. Tim was as much his as Jason, and he couldn't turn a blind eye to it.

The relief of him being back that overflowed from Bruce clashed horribly with Batman’s unbending morals, and the two sides warred for days for control. The attack on his youngest son had been the deciding factor in who finally won; Bruce couldn’t fight the darkness in him when he needed it to help protect Robin from his predecessor, as much as it pained him.

Theirs was a long road, a difficult path to come back together as a family after so many mistakes on both parts (more his than Jason’s, he knew, but admitting so was so hard…), but they had finally, finally came back together. All his children, sitting around the dinning table at the manor, throwing food at each other behind Alfred’s back, Dick failing to give Jason a noogie, Tim succeeding in elbowing his way past both of them to claim first picks over the brownies, Damian rolling his eyes while sneakily drawing in his notebook what B suspected was a portrait of the three of them, Cass and Steph laughing at their antics… His heart felt like it could give out.

Again, his mind was anywhere but in… that. Already used to the dirty looks aimed at Nighting, he focused his anger into strength behind every punch, taking care to kick specially hard when aiming at the criminal’s genitals as light punishment for the lust they aimed at his oldest, but not longer trying to essentially castrate them.

He had the hang of it, and it was just one child. He could do damage control with one, it wasn’t that hard. Stephanie wasn’t really his, just under his protection as a mentor, and even then, she was mostly Barbara’s; Cass could and would take care of anyone who dared look at her in a way she didn’t like, so she was also good. Seventeen year old Tim and thirteen year old Damian were babies, so they wouldn't be an issue for a long, long time.

And then. And then, Steph had opened her mouth.

-Why can’t Tim do this? -she had whined, raising the heels to eye level and studying them with profound distaste- I hate fighting on these. He’s much better than me at that anyway, and he makes a hotter chick than I when he goes full out on his undercover gig.

Red Robin, who was walking past her on his way to the training mats, high fived her.

Barbara’s voice came from the Batcomputer, Oracle’s voice filter not needed while they still were on the Cave.

-Because he and Jason can’t act like a couple for more than two hours before one of them breaks into hives or laughter, and this is an all night long gig.

-Then why can’t Tim and Dick go? You just need a girl as pretty arm candy distaction, the guy is the one who’s gonna do the work, and Nightwing can take care of a few drug dealers himself.

-While Dick is certainly pretty enough to gain permission to enter this very private party -the man, stretching with Tim, stopped mid motion to give the computer finger guns. Barbara coughed to cover a laugh and kept going-, the goal is for him to be invited into the boss’s personal office, and we can only do that if he’s interested in what he sees. From what Tim gathered for me on his last recon, he favours… Jason’s body types more than Dick’s.

Bruce, who was just getting out of the locker room, suit fully in place except from the cowl, raised an eyebrow at that, stopping to analyze his second oldest. Tilting his head, and still as confused, he asked what would undoubtedly bring him an unhealthy amount of regret in the very near future.

-What does that mean? Jason’s...body type? You mean tall? Dick is also pretty tall.

There was total silence in the cave for a few moments. Dick and Tim got up from their positions, shared a look, and made a run for the showers, claiming they were ready for patrol (they weren’t, not warmed up enough, but he had other things to focus on now). Damian, already fully suited, tutted and dragged the hood of his cape over his face, almost completely covering it. Cass looked on impassively, and Stephanie seemed to be getting a worryingly amount of glee from whatever this was.

Jason himself was… blushing? What?

-Who’s gonna tell him? -finally asked Barbara, amusement breaking her professional facade.

-Oh, me, me! Let me do this!

Apparently still a naive man, he nodded at the blonde, ready for someone to clear this up for him.

He was regaled with a half an hour long rant about biceps, pecs, and thighs that could compete against tree trunks and win. It was supported by apparent citations from different criminals that ranged from appreciative to full on scandalous.

In the end, everyone left the cave, Batgirl with a notorious spring on her step, and Bruce had to stay home instead of going out, needing the night to fully process about his second son, almost twenty one but twelve in his mind’s eye, apparently featuring in multiple Arkham calendars.

He came out of that realization a scarred man, to say the least.

-----.-----

It was barely a few months after his traumatic chat with Stephanie when it happened again. He’d like to say he was ready for this.

He wasn’t.

When Conner Kent found him, he was completely focused on his WE’s work. For once on the office, with the TV providing some white noise in the background, he was fully prepared for a day catching up. He couldn’t keep letting Tim take over most of the work, the kid deserved to have a normal (or as normal as any of them could achieve) teenage life.

He was of course notified the moment the meta breached the city’s limits, but figured he was here on Titan’s business or hanging out with Tim. The light knock on his office window was a big surprise.

-This is unexpected, Conner. What can I do for you? -he greeted after letting him in- Tim isn’t here today, he’s giving a press conference.

-Yeah, I know. I’m actually here for you. We, the team, heard from Tim you’re making the blueprints for his next suit.

This conversation was already going in a very confusing way. Why did they care about Tim’s gear?

-Yes?

-Well, you need to double check with us before you show anything to him -something akin to indignant surprise must have shown in his face, because the meta quickly raised both hands-. We don’t mean that as you needing our approval, of course you’d know better how to keep a non-meta well protected. We know jackshit about kevlar and armor. But it’s the… style, that has us worried.

He let the anger bleed out of him, replaced with puzzlement.

-What do you mean?

Conner looked down, as if gathering strength, then up and straight into Bruce’s eyes, a feat very few younger heroes could achieve. This was serious.

-Tim isn’t big like Jason, or as… stretchy as Dick, but he has… very, very attractive features. I won’t go into detail with you about how thin his waist is, how shapely his legs or cute his ass. That’s not something I need to say or you to hear.

Yes, it definitely wasn’t. Bruce was having an inkling as to where this was headed, and he didn’t like it. Tim was a baby! Barely eighteen and so damn small!

-But I do need to tell you, his ugly ass suits have been good at keeping that all on the downlow. We made fun of him for them, sure, but never encouraged him to change, because we know what will happen if he does. It would be awful. You think Nightwing and Red Hood have it rough? Tim has Ra’s Al Ghul’s undivided attention and appreciation. If we add attraction to it? Mayhem. Absolute mayhem. We can barely keep him from being kidnapped by older, nasty villains as it is. We don’t need the extra work, sir. I’m begging you on behalf of the team, don’t let him get anything that would look good on him. Like that Untranet suit he told me about, for example. That one would be so bad. Or the Red Robin one with tighter pants and a domino under the cowl so he can take it out and flash the world his luscious hair.

Bruce fell back into his desk chair. Elbows resting on the table, he buried his face into his hands.

A long silence filled the room.

-You already approved and made one of those, right?

A small, shaky nod.

-...The Ultranet one?

A firm shake.

-Fuck me. The Red Robin with tighter pants and domino?

Another nod. Conner sat abruptly on the empty chair in the other side of the desk, like a puppet with its strings cut.

-Well, fuck.

Fuck indeed.

Bruce despaired.

----.----

This time, he would be ready. He swore it on his honor, on his oath, on his parents.

So when Damian turned sixteen, growth spurt kicking in (he towed over Tim, and it wouldn’t be long until he left Dick in the dust as well), he made a thought but necessary call.

He phoned Talia.

-We need to talk. About Damian, and… sex appeal.

Her shock was evident even through the phone.

-Excuse me? My son is a child. He has no such thing.

He closed his eyes. Once, a long time ago, he’d been just as naive. Now he knew better.

It was a hard lesson to learn, but she needed to. And quickly. Damian was growing faster than his other children. Time was of essence.

-Let me tell you what I wish I knew years ago, when Dick decided to change his Nightwing suit.

She was probably going to hate him for opening her eyes like this, but Bruce just couldn't do this alone.

He could deal with Talia’s hate, but criminals lusting after his baby son? Hell no. He might actually go rouge.

#my writting #I have no excuse #no edit #bruce wayne #dick grayson #jason todd #tim drake #damian wayne #Cassandra Cain Wayne #Stephanie Brown #selina kyle #barbara gordon #Alfred Pennyworth #conner kent #kon el kent #batfamily

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myatuesday · 3 years

Text

I hate that when we're coming to our dude w an issue (aka bitching)

All they hear is "blah blah blah" bitching Charlie Brown teacher voice.

Instead of listening to what the fuck it is we're saying.

I put the shit it writing. I guess he doesn't really read it? Cause he's still like

"Idk wtf you want. All you do is bitch."

Smh.

Sigh.

ISTG.

Or can't separate the praise from the pain

Wtf do you think it means when I say,

"Idgaf if you give me $1,000,000

I want you to stop talking to that bitch."

Did I stutter?

It means EXACTLY what the fuck I JUST mothafuckin said.

Idgaf if you give me $1,000,000

I want you to stop talking to that bitch.

PERIODT.

What about that is confusing?

Or hard to decipher?

Well I'm buying you flowers, I'm taking you to dinner, I'm trying to be nicer to you...

Are you still fucking w that hoe?

Ok then.

Ummm.

Then thanks for that

But

STOP FUCKING WITH THAT HOE

They don't cancel eachother out.

The fuck.

Oldest trick in the book.

Like I'm fucking stupid?

"Well you didn't tell me outright what you wanted. I asked and asked"

Motherfucker.

Not only have I been saying it, and yes, BITCHING about it for 3 goddamn years. I have indeed said it outright.

You wanna play dumb. To keep PLAYING ME.

Time. And time. And time. Again.

Do you need a billboard?

We've talked about it 1000x

You've seen it in writing countless times.

You read my goddamn Tumblr. Hello. Hi.

It's not a fucking mystery.

Period. Hello.

I'm not new.

Now I've gone so far as to offer this dude the

Girlfriend Experience (at his expense, of course)

Because he's made it

ABUNDANTLY CLEAR

Through his actions or lack thereof

That's what he's after.

He doesn't want a fn gf.

He wants a hoe he can fuck and go out w sometimes.

No strings attached.

Ok. Well let me just give you my cashapp and that can be arranged.

The Fuck.

But all this inbtwn BULLSHIT.

Is wearing on me.

Fucking pick one.

But COME CORRECT with it

Whichever way we're going.

I'm OVER this fucking playing dumb, playing games

"But but but..." BULLSHIT

Then gets an attitude w ME

And says he's sick of being the bad guy.

Well, NEWFLASH

Then... RADICAL IDEA

Stop being the fucking bad guy

You ARE the bad guy.

That's why you feel like it.

That's why you're treated like it.

You goddamn cheated.

(Still are, pretty much. Possibly even more than I know)

You live a double fucking life

You throw $ at me to shut me up

(Or you were. You kinda stopped... sooo... idk wtf is up w that. Give it all to somebody else? Smh)

BE A GOOD GUY

Stop lying

Stop cheating

Stop being fucking shady

And stop lying means to EVERYONE; yourself, me, her, your family, your friends, your followers, everyone.

If you just wanna hoe, say that

Stop claiming to me - and me alone - that we're in a real relationship

When you, me, and everyone else on this earth knows we're not.

He claims to finally get it this time (really?!)

But refuses to talk about it

Or do anything about it today

(We've just been discussing it for weeks.

Years.

Ya know. Whatever. Nbd.)

Fine.

But... I'm so sick of this shit

And nothing pisses me off more than this

Cop out playing dumb shit

Mixed w him having the audacity to get an attitude w me

For constantly bringing up his constant fuckboy bullshit

You know when I'll stop bitching?

When you stop giving me shit to bitch about!

DUH.

That's how that works.

YOU ARE THE BAD GUY.

You don't stop being the bad guy

Until you actually stop being the bad guy.

I've given you 1000 chances

Feel free to actually be a decent boyfriend

Or just honest about your real intentions

(Either one)

Any fucking day now.

But until then

Yeah. I'm pissed.

Duh.

And you are the fucking bad guy. Duh.

Buying me flowers like I'm a fucking mistress doesn't absolve you of that.

Yeah I like the flowers.

I don't like the fact you're using them as a detraction to kick the can down the road of just dealing w our actual issues. Or just... being a real boyfriend.

Basic ass shit.

Bare minimum ass shit.

Dudes who beat their wives buy them shit too.

It doesn't make them any less bad

It's a fucking bandaid

And one that does NOT cover up

Nor heal a goddamn fucking thing.

I am ready to be healed.

No more goddamn fucking bandaids.

Fuck you.

FIX THIS or FUCK OFF.

He keeps saying he will

But he never does

And, for whatever reason, rather than just

Calling it what this actually is then

And setting up an agreement and compromise

We can both live with

We're both just

Going through the motions of this bullshit

Pretty fucking miserable

I can't make him be honest

I can't make him give me what I deserve

(Namely, respect.)

I'll give him a fucking day.

Then... we apparently have to talk about this all over again.

Cause I'm : this close: to breaking up w him. Again.

Which he fucking knows.

So... what the actual fuck.

I have before.

He thinks I won't again?

Over this exact same shit.

It's fucking ridiculous.

I told him I'm looking into couples therapy (and I am. Cause this obviously isn't working. We need a place for clear, ideally honest communication. And ACCOUNTABILITY FFS.)

But he didn't say shit about it.

He was too busy being a jackass.

And I get if he feels like he's doing xyz

And all I can do is bitch about 123

But

I'm like... unless 123 are fixed

Xyz doesn't really matter.

Smh.

That's the part we can't seem to get on the same page about.

Which in fairness is frustrating when Iitererally gave him the option.

Fine. Give me xyz. You can keep 123 then.

Just... can't do that and call it a relationship.

He doesn't address that option either.

Smh.

I've done all I know to do other than

Roll over (what he wants me to do)

Or walk away (which is what's coming next. If he can't get his shit together)

But if we can stop fighting long enough...

I think couples therapy could help.

Cause that's the fucked up part

I do think he cares about me

Maybe even love me, on some level

He definitely needs me. No doubt about that.

He just... is letting Amy and his ego

(And I guess in some ways immaturity)

Fuck it all up.

I see potential.

And believe there are real feelings there

That's why it's so hard to give up

(Probably for him too)

But I CAN'T go on like this.

I hate it.

I hate the "relationship". I hate him for putting me through this shit. I hate myself for allowing this shit to go on.

It's absolutely untenable for my emotions, my well being, my fucking psyche, everything.

It's shattering. And soul crushing.

And I keep staying... hoping he'll make it better

Cause he keeps saying he will

And every time he let's me down

I'm just... that much further

From myself, from healing from all this

And the cycles of resentment and anger

It just spins and spins

Sigh

It doesn't seem like either of us actually want to leave

We just have to actually get it right this time

But... after 3 years of everything that boy put me through

Flowers and hugs and manicures ain't gonna cure it.

Especially not when the snake is still in the fucking mix. Smh.

Like... ugh. It's not rocket science

Why this isn't working

Or wtf my problem is

WHO else in their right fucking minds would deal w this shit?

Fucking nobody.

Sigh.

Then people wonder why the fuck I stay

Including my therapist

Sigh

I guess... hope.

I guess because the good is good.

It's a good I can't find anywhere else.

The bad is just... so fucking detrimental.

It's hard.

I've lost no matter what

Is the thing.

Staying.

Trying again

If he'll actually (keep) trying

And actually fully come correct this time

Is the only chance to heal from all this

Is how I feel, I guess.

I walk away.

Then what?

I'm totally damaged still

And... just likely gonna just jump off a fucking cliff

Seriously.

This relationship has destroyed me.

He's at least attempting to... sigh

Idk. He's making an attempt.

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sylvesterlestermanchester · 3 years

Text

Love is the Fulfilling of the Law

Summary: Dan’s happy in his relationship with Phil. If only everything else could start to fall into place, that’d be great.

Word Count: 5,700

Genre: Humor, fluff, angst. Isn’t that life?

Warnings: Swearing, mentions of homophobia, allusions to conversion therapy.

A/N: This won’t make much sense unless you read the first fic in the Fearfully and Wonderfully verse, Fearfully and Wonderfully! (I was really creative with that title huh.) Also, ty for all the love on the past two fics! I don’t have much free time to write these, so I appreciate a few people actually saw it lol.

Dear God.

Hey, God, it’s me.

Our father, who art in heaven...

Wait, am I supposed to pray to God? Or Jesus?

Dan let out a quiet groan, burying his face in his hands. It was way too early in the morning to be thinking, let alone trying to connect with a higher power.

Why couldn’t Dan pray like Phil did?

Yeah, Dan could’ve asked his boyfriend for help with this. His boyfriend, literally the most religious person Dan had ever met. His boyfriend, who had plans for seminary. His boyfriend, who...his boyfriend…

A sleepy grin spread across his face as he pushed all other thoughts out of his mind and snuggled up closer in his boyfriend’s arms, their bodies squeezed together on the tiny twin mattress that barely fit just one of their lanky bodies. In the month that they had been dating since coming back from the retreat, Dan still wasn't tired of calling Phil his boyfriend-when nobody was around, of course.

“Boyfriend…” Dan sang quietly as he moved to play with Phil’s shaggy hair, biting back a laugh as he received a quiet snore in response. “Oi, boyfriend.”

“Shush your hush.” He hears back after a moment, voice low and tired, but still fond. “Shush your hush?”

“Mmm.” “Wow, quite eloquent. Shush your hush. I’ll write it down for later, so you can-”

“Shush!” Phil suddenly rolled on top of Dan, pressing a sloppy, wet kiss to his cheek.

“Wha-Phil, guh-ross!”

“It’s what you get.” Phil laughed, nuzzling his nose into Dan’s hair.

The sleepy cuddles only last a bit longer before they force themselves out of bed, getting ready for class. It’s only when Dan tugs on a new shirt and catches a glimpse of Phil kneeling beside the bed and looking up at the ceiling that he remembers why he woke up early to pray-or at least try to.

Phil looks...peaceful. Transcended, almost, from their cozy but cluttered dorm room. Part of Dan winces for his knees, but part of Dan is jealous. This is something so deep, so meaningful to him, and it’s something Dan feels this need to share with him.

How could he be with Phil if he can’t even share the most important thing in his life with him? He’s pulled out of his thoughts this time by Phil’s soft giggle. “Are you watching me?” He asks softly, pushing himself to his feet and moving over to wrap his arms around Dan’s waist.

“W-What? No. Just zoned out. I need coffee.” He whined, running a hand through Phil’s hair and pushing it back lightly.

“You were creeping on me, creeper.” Phil giggled and tickled Dan’s side lightly, watching as he squirmed.

Before Dan can argue back, Phil leans closer and presses a lazy kiss to his lips. One month in, his knees still weaken as he feels his boyfriend’s soft lips on his.

“C’mon, we should get going.” “We could just kiss the day away.” Dan murmurs. “We could. But I could also buy you coffee and we can try to focus on these midterms you guys keep warning me about.” Dan grumbled and pressed a quick peck to his lips before pulling away reluctantly. He was dreading the mid-semester exams that were coming up just a couple weeks from now, and he knew Phil wouldn’t be prepared at all, considering he hadn’t even known they were a thing until last week.

Once they gather their things and share a final kiss (okay, three) they both pull away, Phil smoothing his shirt down and Dan fixing his hair before they step out into the hall.

Phil trails behind-close, but not too close. Far enough away that they look like just roommates. Close enough that it keeps Dan from reaching back and tugging him into his arms, just wanting to envelop himself in Phil.

It’s when they’re walking that Dan sees the glint of the silver cross necklace bouncing against Phil’s chest, and his eyes trail from that up to the clouds in the sky, finally getting as close to a prayer as he figures he’s going to get.

Hey, God. Speak to me, yeah? If for nobody else, for Phil.

“Okay, I’ve done the math-we can do this! With a week left before everyone’s first exam, we just need to keep up the studying, and-and maybe sleep, like, three hours less a night each.” Phil rambled, hands shaking from the abundance of caffeine rushing through his veins. He looks up from his calculator before looking at Louise and Dan across the booth, a nervous smile on his face as he tries desperately to cheer up his sullen friends. “Y’know, three hours isn’t even that much, especially if we work really hard and study non-stop. These tests should be easy then, right?” PJ chuckled dryly, rubbing his temples slowly. “You sound insane. You really never had to take tests in your little homeschool world up North?” He asked, pawing through the mountain of books in front of them. The fun “study session” that Phil had suggested had devolved into madness once the sugary coffee drinks had gone through their system, and Phil was desperately trying to scrape it back together.. “Well, not really. Once a year, we did this one just to prove we were actually learning. And then I took that weird G-C-E test or whatever, but I didn’t even take that seriously, because I barely knew what it was. But I must’ve done okay, because I ended up here, right?”

Louise stared at him before groaning. “Only you could half-ass the GCSEs and manage to score high enough to get a fucking huge scholarship.” Louise rolled her eyes playfully as she reached out and ruffled his hair. “The rest of us are doomed. Hey, Speaking of the North, why didn’t Chris show up, again?”

Phil giggled a bit as PJ shrugged, slurping his Frappuccino. “Just said he couldn’t make it, that’s all.” “He’s been ‘busy’ a lot lately.” Louise rolled her eyes gently. “He’s gonna bomb if he just stops studying.”

“What is he even doing?” PJ raised his eyebrows. “Seriously, I’m getting concerned-”

“Less gossip, more studying, c’mon!” Phil interrupted suddenly, shaking his head quickly.

Louise and PJ rolled their eyes but reluctantly grabbed their pens, but Dan is too focused on Phil’s slightly trembling hands thumbing through his textbook. His nearly-neurotic obsession with studying wasn’t anything new-Phil had been studying a lot lately, breaking both the coffee and all-nighter limit they had set earlier that semester.

Dan...well, he wasn’t exactly doing the same.

Pre-law was boring as fuck. Dan could feel his soul dying every time he went to a seminar. He couldn’t stand anyone else in his major. His eyes glossed over if he read case studies for more than 15 minutes, and if it came between studying and, well, literally anything else, he would gladly take anything else.

Especially when that anything else was kissing Phil.

Kissing Phil sounded really good right now. If their friends hadn’t been around, he’s sure he would’ve dragged Phil out of here by now and to one of the dozens of hidden corners of their campus for a good secret-kissing session. In fact, he’s tempted to make up some excuse and pull Phil away now when Louise nudges him.

“Earth to Dan? Dan, aren’t you slipping in this class? C’mon, stop zoning out and get to work.” “You’re slipping?” Phil frowns, head jerking up. “Oh, Dan, why didn’t you say anything? You know I would’ve helped you study.” Dan groans under his breath. “Okay, okay. I’ll do it. I can’t help that it’s just so incredibly dull and stupid and-” PJ rolled his eyes. “We get it, you hate it. Less bitching, more studying, all of us.” Dan ducks his head down and begrudgingly starts to read along with the rest of them. He doesn’t miss the way Phil’s eyes glance over at him, offering him a sympathetic smile. If he had to, he would. If only just so he could trudge through it and get to the other side already.

After a moment of debating, he glances up at the ceiling. God, if you’re there-let me get through this?

“Remand.” “I want to re-mand you that you’re my boyfriend, not my tutor.” Dan flashed Phil a grin, wiggling his eyebrows.

His grin wavered a bit as Phil shook his head, biting his bottom lip and giving him a stern look.

“Remand.” He repeated firmly, and Dan sighed.

“Um...the case in the court below it was incorrect?”

Phil shook his head. “Close, it’s actually-” He gets cut off by a dramatic groan from Dan, only muffled as Dan buried his face in their mattress. “Dan, I know you had your English exam today, but this law test is in two days. You need to-”

“Give me another one.” He snaps, and Phil sighs.

“Preemption.”

“That’s not a word.” “Dan, yes it is.” Phil says, voice softening as he reaches out and rubs Dan’s back. “Head up. What does it mean?” “Wait....is it when two courts, can-can...they can hear the same case at the same time?” Dan asks hopefully, looking at Phil, who’s grimacing.

“Not-Not exactly.” Before Dan can start up again, he quickly jumps in. “Let’s try an easy one-Plaintiff.” “Who even cares?” Dan snapped, kicking his feet childishly. He’s being annoying, he knows. He knows it’s late, and Phil has his own studying to do, and that he’s just trying to help. But Phil’s been on him since their study session last week when Louise let it slip that Dan wasn’t doing well in this class.

“I care, Dan.” Phil sighed, looking down and speaking quietly. “I-I just want you to do well. I’m praying for you and everything, but you gotta put some work in as well.” That shuts Dan up.

“You’re praying for me?” He asked quietly. “I mean, I pray about you all the time.” Phil lays back down and gently pulls Dan with him. “But yeah, I’m praying for you. You just-you don’t seem happy with what you’re studying, and I just want you to be happy and successful. So I’m praying you find that.”

Dan pauses, not sure how to react. He doesn’t have a chance to when Phil gently adds “Even if...even if that means not doing law.” At that, Dan turns to look at Phil. “Don’t say that.”

“Seriously, Dan, if you want to study something else-” “Phil, drop it. I mean it.” “Fine, fine.” Phil pulls away, rolling off the bed and padding over to his desk. “You take a break, I’ll study on my own.” Dan curls up slightly into himself, his stomach turning. Phil sounded...defeated, almost. Maybe it was the lack of sleep, or maybe Phil was more stressed than he was letting on. And Dan was only adding to it, oh God, what a fuck-up he was- “Pray with me?” Dan blurts out suddenly.

Phil freezes mid-highlight before turning to Dan, eyebrows furrowed.

“You just...you look so calm when you do. It’s worth a shot, right?” Dan says, but it’s a weak lie. He doesn’t just want the calm Phil has. He wants that relationship with a God, that spiritual awareness. He wants to feel close to Phil in the way that seems to keep them apart, moreso even than the physical distance that they keep when out in public.

After a moment Phil’s expression softens and he gives Dan the kind smile that always makes him melt. Before Dan knows it he’s back on their bed, pulling Dan close. “Why don’t we do the Daily Examen?” “More exams?” Dan raised an eyebrow, smiling as Phil giggled.

“Examen. It’s a guided prayer. It helps me when I’m all over the place and can’t think as clearly.”

Dan nods a bit, taking Phil’s hands and watching as his eyes fall shut. “Dear God...we’re now entering a space where you’re with us.” Dan watches as Phil takes a deep breath before realizing he should probably close his eyes, too.

Phil starts them by listing their gratitudes (coffee, a kind professor who let Dan finish the last bit of his essay despite being over the time limit, a sunny day), focusing on emotions (Dan’s a bit surprised with how empathetically Phil agrees with Dan’s overwhelment), picking one area to pray (peace), and then their hopes for the next day (just to get through it).

As he leads Dan, Phil gets that serene smile on his face, and Dan opens one eye slightly to watch him. He wants what Phil has, really. But he can’t shake the feeling that, well, they’re just talking to someone who isn’t there.

When Phil opens his eyes, he gives Dan a slightly hopeful look. “Better?”

“I feel...calmer,” Dan says, and it’s true. He feels a bit better, but he’s not sure that it’s as much because of the prayer or because of Phil’s soft, guiding voice.

“Good. Now, let’s forget about vocab, yeah? We can study more tomorrow. Let’s get some rest.” He presses a gentle kiss to Dan’s forehead, and suddenly Dan feels the guilt build up further. He wants to feel this sense of closeness, and he’s pretty sure by the relaxed grin on Phil’s face he wants it as well.

“Night, love.” Dan whispers, watching as Phil snuggled up close before drifting off. With a sigh, Dan looks up at the ceiling.

Okay, God, I had Phil with me this time. He thinks, furrowing his eyebrows a bit. And you still can’t talk to me? Give me a break here, yeah?

Dan and Lou stand in the cold a couple days later when they're outside the church for study group, waiting for Phil.

PJ had to cram right before an art exam, which seemed like an oxymoron to Dan, but he couldn’t be envious of how cool that sounded. They both had tests-Phil a math exam that he was surprisingly confident about, and Dan’s law exam, which, well…

“How’d it go?” Phil asked cheerfully as he jogs up to them both, and despite the heavy feeling in Dan’s chest as he flashes back to the test-he had barely finished in time, and he knew that a lot of guessing was involved.

“It’s law. But, um, you know. Decent.” Dan lies with a small shrug. Louise quirks her eyebrow subtle, a trait that Phil doesn’t seem to pick up on as Dan asks about his exam and smiling as Phil lights up.

“Good! I know I nailed the extra credit. I’m exhausted, but-” “Chris? Hey, I thought you said you weren’t going to come!” Louise says as Chris walks over. It’s only then that Dan realizes he hasn’t seen him for more than a passing wave in the halls for about two weeks now.

All their study sessions, and group de-stresses, and snack runs, Chris hadn’t been there. But here he is, Bible in hand and with a weird grin on his face.

“You know me!” He says, sounding just a bit too cheerful. “Unpredictable Chris. Let’s get inside, yeah?”

Phil watches as he makes his way through the chapel. “Oh-yeah, that sounds good. How is everything, by the way? It seems you’ve gone MIA-”

Chris waves him off. “I’m here now, Phil, c’mon. I need some snacks.”

They head down the stairs and make their way to sit in their regular seats, Phil and Dan exchanging quick glances. After a few minutes, they begin-brief introductions, a few announcements, and finally the starting prayer.

Before Caroline can direct them to a verse to study for the day, Chris butts in. “Can I ask a question?”

Both Phil and Caroline smile widely and nod, and Chris flips open his Bible.

“I was reading some 1 Samuel, about David and Jonathan.” He starts, gripping the book tightly in his hands. He taps a bit of a highlighted text, raising his eyebrows. “And they talk about how “David loved Jonathan more than women,'', and how, and I quote, ‘the soul of Jonathan was knit to the soul of David’. I mean...they were gay, weren’t they?”

The group seems a little taken aback by Chris’ bluntness, and Dan doesn’t need to look over to sense Phil shifting uncomfortably in his seat.

Caroline jumps in quickly. “I-I mean, people have interpreted it that way, yes. But they could have just had a deep, brotherly bond-”

Chris’ snort cuts her off. “I dunno, it seems pretty gay to me. I mean, they literally start smooching it up.”

“I think that they were gay, actually.” A girl across the room says with a shrug. “I mean, there had to be gay people back then. And Chris is right. They seem to act pretty romantically.” “You really think so?” A guy furrows his eyebrows. “I never read it like that. Judas kisses Jesus, but they weren’t gay.” “Yeah, well, I guess that’s not exactly the point. Here’s my question. How can you guys read and live by this book, but even though you claim that God is all-loving, some of you guys hate gay people?” The group falls silent, but that seems to only spur Chris on further.

“Seriously. You guys talk so much about loving God, and God loving us, and loving brothers and sisters, but what if somebody in here was a guy, who happened to love guys? Like…” Dan holds his breath, eyes wide as he stares at Chris.

“Like me?” He continues. Dan blinks a few times, looking equally as stunned as everyone else as his eyes dart around the room.

“Well-we want to be tolerant of everyone in here, so let’s start off with that.” Caroline jumps in again, but Chris shakes his head and barks out a laugh that doesn’t sound funny at all.

“I don’t want to be fucking tolerated, I want to be respected, and loved, and cared about-not just in spite of my sexuality, but because of my identity.”

Chris stands to his feet, gritting his teeth as he slams the Bible shut and starts pacing around the circle. “It really, really fucking hurts when people don’t respect that. It hurts when I have to hear from my friends-” With that he whirls around, walking over to Phil suddenly.

“Chris…” Phil whispers, sinking down in his seat somewhat as he looks up at him.

Chris stops in front of him, crossing his arms over his chest and glaring down at him. “When my friends talk so much about loving one another, but I’m not sure that they would love me if I was authentic with him.”

Phil sucks in a deep breath, slowly standing up. “Chris.” He says, voice shaking. “Chris, I promise I had no idea.”

“Yeah, well, forgive me for being nervous.” Chris snaps. “I mean, you-Phil!”

Chris lets out a small yelp as Phil suddenly tackles him in a tight, desperate hug. The entire group is watching their every movement. Dan feels like his heart is going to explode. Finally, Phil pulls away, still holding both of Chris’s hands in his.

“Chris, if I haven’t shown you that I love you dearly as one of my greatest friends, I have f-failed you. As a friend. As a man. And as a follower of Christ.”

“You haven’t failed-” Chris laughed shakily, trying to hide the fact that his eyes were welling up, but then he looks shocked as a small sob erupts from Phil.

“I love you s-so dearly, Chris.” He says, quickly trying to control himself. “ ‘If a man say, I love God, and hateth his brother, he is a liar: for he that loveth not his brother whom he hath seen, how can he love God whom he hath not seen?’ “

“Chris, I-I know what love is because of the undying love of you as my brother. Through that I know God, and I know that God loves you so, so much. E-Even if you don’t believe, nobody ever-and I mean ever-should use him against you or your sexuality.”

Chris is full-on sobbing now, and Phil pulls him to his chest, rubbing his back.

“If you’re gay, or bi, or-or whatever, I love you, and I love you b-because of it. I never want anyone to f-feel hated for that.” Phil pulled away after a moment before turning to the group. “And-And if you call yourself a servant of Christ, and you want to perpetrate this hate, or intolerance, I-I’d ask you to question why seeing someone-someone like Chris love another person with a pure heart makes you s-so uncomfortable.” Phil hugs him again as Chris’s shoulders shake and he balls up Phil’s shirt in his hands, mumbling “Thank you, thank you, thank you...”

After what seems like an hour, Caroline speaks quietly. “I think you both brought up some great points. Why don’t we wrap up early today, and-and we can try to pick this up next time, okay?” The group stays silent as Caroline leads them in their closing prayer, Chris’s quiet sobs the only noise besides her soft voice. People stand, a few shuffling over to give Chris hugs and murmur in his ear. “I think I’m gonna go for a walk with him. Y’know, help calm him down.” Phil murmured to Dan when he got a moment away. “Clearly a tough time, yeah?” “Yeah, yeah, of course.” Dan nods quickly, still a bit shell-shocked from the sudden outpouring of emotion. “Are you gonna-” He glanced between the two of them, and Phil bit his lip.

“I don’t think this is the best time to tell him about, um...that. It’s about him right now, me.” He said, glancing back at Chris nervously. “I just want to give him time to decompress. But we’ll grab dinner later, yeah?”

Before Dan can answer Phil is back over with Chris, a supportive hand on his shoulder as he leads him out. The next thing he knows, he’s alone in the small room, and he takes a few deep breaths before looking up at the ceiling.

Why do you have to make this so hard, God?

It’s just about eight-thirty when Dan’s phone buzzes.

We had a long talk-tho i guess u guessed! Lol! 0_o U want 2 meet @ snake path? -Phil!

Dan couldn’t help but grin in spite of the heaviness he had been feeling for the past several hours, practically jumping off the bed.

Omw in five.

Snake Path was Phil’s name for this little curvy path near the edge of campus, totally obscured by trees. The two had shared plenty of kisses and mini dates there, hiding out from the world when it all got to be too much. Some time with Phil sounded perfect-time where he didn’t have to think about God, or Chris, or coming out, or God forbid the fucking bombed law exam.

Dan can practically feel the sadness dissipating as he makes his way down, pulling his jacket tighter with a happy hum under his breath. Once he sees Phil, he picks up speed, laughing a bit as Phil gives him a small wave.

“Why didn’t you ask me to bring you a jacket?” Dan whined, wrapping his arms around Phil tightly. “You must be freezing!” “Well, good thing I’ve got you to warm me up.” Phil grinned and sat down, pulling Dan into a kiss as soon as he was sat down as well.

Dan giggled and started to speak, but Phil was kissing him again, hands moving to gently hold his hips.

“I missed you.” He murmured against his lips. “I know it’s stupid, but we haven’t had enough time to ourselves lately.”

“I missed you, too.” Dan sighs, wiggling slightly under Phil’s hold as he pulled him into another kiss.

Phil kisses back, and for the first time all day, Dan feels good.

Dan’s totally lost in the feeling, letting out a happy sigh. Before he knows it, he’s climbing into Phil’s lap, hands cupping his cheeks.

He doesn’t even realize that he’s sliding his tongue into his mouth until Phil makes a surprised noise, quickly freezing as he feels guilt swarm inside him.

“Phil…” He starts to push him away, but Phil giggles a bit, looking a bit stunned, before he slowly tries to pull him back. “Nobody’s out here…” He assures Dan, shrugging a little bit. “If-If you want to keep going-”

“Phil, I-what are we doing? What am I doing?” Dan quickly moves off of Phil’s lap, hugging his knees to his chest.

Phil blinks a few times. “...Kissing your boyfriend?” He asks, tilting his head to one side. He’s giving Dan a clueless look, like he really doesn’t get what’s going on. That only makes Dan’s stomach hurt worse.

“You know I want to do a bit more than kissing, don’t lie.” Dan’s snapping now, but he can’t help it. All the frustration is bubbling up, and the way Phil’s face turns red and he looks away sheepishly. “And I think you do, too.”

“Is that such a problem?” He said quietly. “That I want to...do more, with you?”

“Yes, Phil!” Dan groans. “Are you-Are you kidding me right now?”

Phil takes a deep breath. “I’m sorry-you just came on kind of strong. I-I guess I must’ve gotten the wrong idea.” “Yeah, well, you sure did.” Dan grits his teeth, running a frustrated hand through his hair. “I’ve had the worst fucking day of all time, and now look what’s happening.” Phil looks completely beside himself, curling up a bit further into himself, but before he can speak Dan’s going off. All these things he’s been holding inside him for so long, they just seem to be exploding out.

“Everything sucks, yeah? I get that for you, it might be different. You know what you want to do with your life, and you love it. It’s your calling or whatever. And you’re naturally some freaky genius who gets to do everything right the first try.” “Dan, c’mon-”

“No! It’s true! You’re Mr. Saintly, you can do whatever you want! My parents think I’m some delinquent, and I have to become a shitty lawyer to convince them I’m not!” “Hey, hey-” “You don’t get the pressure I’m under!” Dan snaps finally, slamming his hand against the grass. “I don’t know pressure?” Phil says, voice quiet. Dan opens his mouth to speak, but freezes as he catches the glare Phil shoots him. “You’re telling me I don’t know pressure? The model Catholc ex-homosexual?” Dan nearly shivers as the way Phil’s voice raises in anger-it’s not even that he looks that mad, but it’s so foreign that it terrifies him.

“I mean, really, Dan! I’ve never taken exams like this, I’m exhausted, I’m worried about you, I learn my-my friend thinks that I’m just as bad as the people who tried to ‘cure’ me, and now my boyfriend is getting mad that we just want to kiss after a long day and telling me I don’t know pressure?”

Dan gulps audibly, wrapping his arms around himself. “I didn’t mean to get mad.” He says finally. “Then why were you?” Phil sounds exasperated. “I don’t understand how you can kiss me like that and then just freak out and expect me not to get worried!”

Dan sniffles a bit, looking down. ”Well...we were getting kind of intense. And we’re Catholic, so I thought-”

He falls silent as Phil’s anger fades away and is replaced with confusion.

“Wait, hold on.” He shakes his head. “We’re Catholics?”

Dan freezes before looking over at him with a guilty look, feeling his insides physically ache at all of the hurt inside him. “Well...I-I’m trying to be one, anyways.” He explains shakily,

Phil gently rubs his hand with his thumb, letting Dan continue.

“I-I’m always trying, you know that? Even if I seem like I’m being a little bitch about flashcards, or-or slacking off, or just being weird and watching you pray. I’m trying! I’m trying to believe in God, I’m trying to not flunk out, I’m trying t-to not kiss you in front of everyone, I-I’m trying so hard, and it’s just-it’s not enough…” “Baby…” Phil reaches out and pulls Dan into his lap again, this time only to hold Dan as tight as possible.

“Why isn’t it enough?” He hiccupped out as he started crying, breath coming faster. “E-Everyone else g-gets to do everything s-so easily, s’not fair!”

Phil didn’t say anything, just humming sympathetically and rubbing slow circles onto his back. After a bit, Dan finds himself slowly starting to calm down, and when his crying has been reduced to sniffles and a shaky sigh, Phil pulls away.

“Do you want to start brainstorming solutions?” He suggested gently. Dan shrugged, rubbing his eyes. “Okay, let’s start with an easy one.” He says, voice somehow managing to be matter-of-fact and still loving. Dan feels himself shrink slightly, pressing his cheek to Phil’s shoulder. “You think you’re going to fail?” Dan laughed weakly, nearly about to start crying again. “It’s not really a question at the moment. I totally bombed that test today.”

“Do you care?” Phil said, quickly clarifying. “Do you care if that hurts your chances of having a career as a lawyer?” Dan pauses, taking a deep breath. “I don’t...I want to be in college. I don’t wanna flunk. But, fuck, if I become a lawyer I think I’m gonna be sad, and miserable, and having a miserable mid-life crisis, fuck-” Phil tugs him closer. “Hon, you don’t have to do law. You can do something else.” “You don’t get it, my parents-” “Dan.” Phil nudged Dan’s side. “Remember, I’m supposed to be an ex-homosexual and a future man of God. My parents expect me to be holy. Literally. I know it's tough. But it’s your life, right?” Dan nodded, rubbing his eyes. “I just...I don’t wanna be aimless.” “Then don’t be. Use the rest of this year to explore what you’re into, and then we can regroup and come up with a plan.”

Dan bit his lip. At first, the thought terrified him, but really after this semester there was only a semester left. Maybe Dan could take that theater class he had heard about...and the idea of not having to do another law seminar didn’t sound too bad…

“Mmm...I suppose I could.” He mumbled, rubbing Phil’s chest absentmindedly. Phil smiled and kissed his nose. “Now. About the religion stuff.” He started, sighing as Dan groaned in embarrassment before continuing on. “Are you really wanting to be Catholic? Like...really?”

“I want to be Catholic with you.” Dan said softly. “I want to share that-that idea of God with you. Because what if, when you-you go to seminary-which I know is a million years away, but still-what if you realize you need to be with another Catholic?”

Dan’s voice broke at the end and Phil cooed, rocking him back and forth gently in his arms. “Daniel, I-I...I don’t even know if I want to be Catholic anymore.” He admitted. As Dan shot his head up,

“I want to follow God, and be a leader for Him. And I love some of the ways that the Catholic church does. But the idea of trying to be a religious leader for a religion that can’t support me and my relationship...” He took Dan’s hand and laced their fingers together. “Maybe I could check out some more, um, progressive Christian denominations.”

Dan took in a deep breath, cupping Phil’s cheek with his free hand. “Wow. Just...wow. You see us lasting that long? Even if...I’m sorry, but even if I don’t think I could ever believe in God?” He asks, a bit doubtful. “Owe no man any thing, but to love one another: for he that loveth another hath fulfilled the law...” Phil began, nuzzling his cheek. “Love worketh no ill to his neighbor: therefore love is the fulfilling of the law.” At the blank look on Dan’s face Phil laughed. “It means love is the most important thing, out of all the rules and commandments of Christianity. I think you’re a wonderful person who acts with love as much as possible, and I think that’s why I love you, and honors God-whether you call it that or not.”

Dan blushed. “You really think so?”

“Of course. And we can share deeper, spiritual things together, if you want to get close in that way. We can try meditation sometime. Or-Or more midnight talks, you know I love those.” “And what about...getting close, y’know, in that way?” This time it was Phil’s turn to blush, looking down. “I’m not exactly saving myself for marriage anymore.” “Can’t you become a virgin again?” Dan asked, and Phil turned infinitely redder.

“I-yeah? But do I really want to do that? I mean, I did what I did. And I don’t want to be a virgin until I can sign some piece of paper. I-I don’t want to wait that long at all, actually.”

“Oh?” Dan gulps thickly.

“I want to share it with you, because I love you, so much. I’ve never done it with someone I’ve, um, loved before.” He whispered softly. “Only quick, desperate stuff when I was...y’know.”

Dan cooed and cupped his cheeks, kissing him slowly. “I want to share it with you, too, love. We can figure it out later, yeah?” Phil grinned and nodded before leaning into the kiss, Dan giggling a bit. It might sound stupid, but he just felt so good. So light. Like he could just sit here in Phil’s arms forever, and nothing bad could happen. Like-

“Are you two tonguing right now?!” Louise shrieked, and Dan yelped as suddenly Phil was scrambling away, both their faces bright red as they turn to look up and see Louise, Chris, and PJ looking down at them with amused looks. “You totally were!” “Noooo…” Phil whined, burying his face in his hands as Chris snorted out a laugh.

“Wow, Phil, kinda bummed you didn’t show me this kind of brotherly love.”

Dan and Phil exchanged small glances, a slow smile spreading across each of their faces. “The soul of Daniel was knit to the soul of Philip.” Dan teased.

“Oh-shush your hush!”

#fearfully and wonderfully #fearfully and wonderfully verse #phan #danielhowell #phil lester #dan howell #phanfic #phanfiction #phanfic au #au #phan au #college phan #uni phan #phan fluff #phan angst #phan hurt/comfort #phanfiction au

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charmed-asylum · 4 years

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𝓣𝓱𝓮 𝓟𝓪𝓻𝓽𝓷𝓮𝓻𝓼

𝘛𝘩𝘦 𝘗𝘢𝘳𝘵𝘯𝘦𝘳𝘴, 𝘱𝘢𝘳𝘵 4

Summary: Finn Cox had everything boy would ever dream of a hot cheerleader girlfriend, loved by everyone, and caption of his hockey team. So why is since Camille Dawson step into his life he starts to have second thoughts about everything

FYI: 1st week back to school. This part is short. Ever hear the saying quite before the storm well. Get ready because it is about to be a class five hurricane Lets CHAT Get tag or Whatnot. If you are new catch up :)

✨ The Partners: Ch.1/ Ch.2/ Ch. 3

𝓉𝒶𝑔𝑔𝑒𝒹: @weapinggwillowss @nottherightseason @strangerfictions @thewolfswriting @hauntor

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2014

The crowd called for him praising him like he was a god. Going nuts. It was the winter finale game they been undefeated all season and it was time. He rushed out to the ice and gave them a show skating around waving his hands up. He was only a freshman and on the varsity team for St. Cloud State University. He wears his black, red, and white with pride. Hockey his friends was his life and the girl of the week. Finn was the young man on the campus. It was his life. One he would never give up.

The blood rushes down his forehead his mouth crunch harder onto the mouthpiece. He looks at his teammates as the captain told them the next play. It was Finn's big moment. It was up to him to get the point that could give them the win. BREAK He waited for tell. The bits of ice rush in his face as he rushed down to the goal. Fitting the enemy trying to steal his shine. As he took it he hit it in. The crowd scream in excitement. Others turn around to Finn on the ground screaming. Throwing the helmet off he screams as he tried to get up. Stumbling back down. Before blacking out he saw the scoreboard. THEY WON

FOUR MONTHS LATER

He looked out at the gentle white snow. Hunch over missable. The doctor said it could be fixed but instead he was still wheeling himself around. ACL about gone damage due to years of playing. All his friends didn’t call him as much and he wasn’t getting much action like before. Him this smell room and his dad.

“ Where you going anyway" Finn said wheeling himself around following his dad. “I and a friend are going on our annual fishing trip. Every year I get one weekend Finn. To myself" dad said with a chuckle. Probably gonna share a tent with a dude and experiment “ You know I’m okay with that dude and dude stuff” Finn added trying to stop his dad. He turned to Finn and red face still chuckling. “ I ain't no... Finn, I’m gonna be on a big ass boat with rooms and shit that I don’t get here anymore. You know peace” dad said. Finn looks back at the phone ringing. Damn it. He wasn’t in the mood. Rolling back to his room he shut the door and watch his glory days.

It must have been months. No movement. Mad at the world. Unsure where everything when to Shit. Asking himself if there was a way out. Suddenly their movement out the doors of his room breaking him from his daily life is over. Finn was drench in the sour smell of beer stuck in bed. Slowly getting up he dragged his fingers to the door. Peeking out the door he sees his dad talking to someone. Could he be back yet from his trip Finn thought to himself?

The voice has been popping in and out never a face. Yet it was a familiar voice. They were talking about everything including him. His father looks past the figure to Finn door. Rushing away from the door he rolls over and drops a big stack of trash. He quickly tries to fix everything and rush back to his bed. Full of pain. As he crouched over closing his eyes. He felt the light from the hallway hitting his back. A sweet perfume. Fresh. He tried to see if he could peek. But it was too dark. Soft whispers. Then a touch. One-touch. He could not resist so he slowly turned around to see the back of a girl. Who are you?

Unable to sleep he kept thinking about the stranger with the sweet scent and soft touch. Dad was by the table looking at the yellow book. The last person he ever thought would be here but things had slowly changed in the past years.

" Looks who up. Why are you out of the room. Need more painkillers. Use the crapper " dad asked with his reading glasses tip down. Finn smiles. "No, dad. Thought it finally time to come out. Test the waters. What are you doing" he says rolling next to him. He was in pain roll himself everywhere. " Think we should change doctors someone refers me to a better doctor. Also thinking therapy. They told me a good place. Next town. She always such a great big help" he says shaking his head hug grin on his face. Finn seeing his opening took it. "She. Do I know her" he asks grabbing an orange from the fruit bowl.

Dad looks at Finn confuse then shakes his head yes. " Not supposed to tell you. Her words" he says getting up. Finn turns around to his dad. Who can it be? Rolling himself back and forth. "Come on. Tell me. I know her. Who an ex my old math teacher" he says. Making a cup of coffee dad shakes his head. " This is childish your childish. She has been always helping us and I can't even tell you. Because of you two history. Whatever that means. It's the Dawson girl. She has been lending a hand whenever I need it since your mom died" he replies and walks out the room with his coffee. Finn follows him to his bedroom cursing to himself as he pushes himself fast enough to catch up. " Dawson. You mean Camille Dawson. I haven't heard that name in years. What, why, huh" he starts to say.

Dad looks at him and rolls his eyes. " She felt guilty about your mom. Something that wasn't her fault. Days after your mom's funeral she asks a favor for me. She talks to me to explain to me things. Help me see. Be better. Just simple things. Cook a few meals. You're favorite. Then after a while, she would check on us. When you got hurt sometimes she comes up a few weekends to help when I couldn’t. I should of drop kick you. Your mom was going to die and you know that. She asks to die that day. In peace. She saw we be fine. She saw that when you were with her. She saw how happy you could be. She was dying for a while but when she saw we could be ok. She let go into peace. She would be ashamed of you. Here. I told you what has been on my mind for a couple of years. Now I’m going to watch my sports and sleep" he said closing the door.

Finn was shocked. Lies, the truth. He tried not to think about her. It was like she was in a box that he put up away in the attic or at less that's what he wanted to believe. Rolling back and forth by the laptop trying to do something else. Keep the mind busy. "Fuck it". He spends hours checking up the years they last talk. The evolution after high school. The many pictures of her and friends, Will, and a boy who look just like him. She was at NYU. Now ending freshman year. Happy. She was happy. After that night he looks her page each night before he fell asleep.

There was a knock on his door. Is it her. The OxyContin must have been really working was it her or was he just imagine it. " Hey there. Stranger. Your dad out wanted me to check on you" she stops and fixing a few strings of his hair "you're going to make it" she says full of sympathy. Finn slowly opens his eyes. It was her sitting at the side of his bed silent. Slowly getting up. " What are you doing here" he asks grabbing an old beer off his nightstand. She glances at him. That sweet smell. " Home for the break. Heard about you. Dad told me I should come by maybe help. How are you? Taking it easy. There was a lot of neighborhood talk about our rising star" she says opening an orange juice taking the beer out his hands and putting between her thighs. He said nothing just looks at her. She tents up and looks away. " Look. I don't judge or care. Just think you should know it's not over. You can walk again. Have the chance. Many dreams about that. You have friends and family. Supporting you I guess. Maybe even a child. Then again she always did cheat around even with people close to you" she stops and peaks back to him "In high school. Anyway. You give up and that's letting all those people win. You were always better at the buzzer. Your better then this Cox" she says and gets up to start to leave. He watches her. " How can you make it sound so simple. Get hurt right before my career can even start. My life was just starting. Life pretty much fucking over. Dawson" he spits out.

She turns around to him. "You been in here too long. In this room. Small four by four. Going a little wallpaper crazy. That your funk is smelling better than your attitude. Looking like a nightly creature in the sunlight. Legs are going to work. Always practice gets better to get back in there for the second half. Maybe this is meant to be. Come back here. And think about what you want. At less think about it, not for you but your mom" she stops and brought his chair to the bed" Get in the chair. I am taking you for a short ride. Then you and your funk can come back and sit here and decay" she says looking at him. Her hands on her hips full of sass.

The ride was short. He was forced to go. Okay, ask very polity to wear blindfolds. After a while, she took them off. They were at the old oil mill. She locks his chair and starts to grab him out of it. For a small girl pushing 120 tops, she was strong. Helping him sit down on the ground. She sat next to him. Past them was lights then water. He never saw this spot before. It was actually beautiful even though it was dark. She glances at him then back at the view. " Only you. Cox. Only you. See out there. It's whatever you want. Nothing. Ok. Simply a joke to the town. Maybe a small job somewhere. Watch life pass by. You just in your chair rioting. Or change. Get past it. Get back and see pass those lights to the unending ocean whatever. It's up to you. Finn. I’m only here because your dad ask. And I would feel really guilty if I couldn't help. But I said yes" she says leaning back looking up at the stars.

He looks at her then at the view. Her phone begins to ring. Crap she mouths. She gradually finds her way up and answers it. She was gone for a few minutes. He turns around and watches her talking. Kicking the ground nodding her head. Coming back to him. She reaches out for his hands to go. Sitting down in the car. He looks at her. Then back away. " Thanks. For this. Tough love with a hint of kindness. Tomorrow would you come back. None of my friends come by plus my dad great but it is not the same" he said looking at her. She looks at him and starts to smile. Leaning she looks up at the stars. " I always wanted to travel adventure out from Alaska. On my own on my terms. Did with New York. Now. The phone call was from my school. Telling me I got in. Study abroad in Europe. For a year. I leave in a day. Back to New York. Have you ever went. Last I heard it was in your plan. Finn" she says. He looks away from her and shook his head no.

She looks over, " You should. I love to show you. Give you the triangle experience" she says trying to cheer him up. Confused from what she meant he smiles at her. He begins to laugh. She hits him on the side. " Hey, it's a rare package Jimbo Finno. See first there the standard things to see. Which by the way to much for a day. I recommend the first time you should stay a week. Then second is my favorite things that I personally think people should know about then you. I would do things I know you would personally like. Like. Going to Madison Square Garden for a game or ride by Long Island where this cool hockey exhibit is. The triangle experience" she says with jazz hands. Knock knock on the window. It was Finn's dad. She smiles and waves hi then talks to him a little. Getting out. He looks back at her. Watching him. "Hey. So you know things are going to get better. That place we went to was my place. I go there when I need new pear eyes. But now it can also be yours. You need it as bad or worst than me. Directions on your desk. A get a better gift if you will" she says. Once he got inside it was right on his desk. There was a note. From her.

✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼

After that night. That unaware needed to slap into reality finally hot him. Finn started to give in. Maybe it was the urgency of dad. The simplicity of if you don’t you shit together then I’m gonna kick you numb ass. He would mumble to Finn every time he resists. Probably it was the fact of the matter it was an old friend not his father no him. Or maybe was that first video blog Camille mail to Finn in a care package.

With the months going by Finn started to go to community college. Then on his off time working with his dad in the office or going to therapy. What care he was not getting from therapy he got from the random hookups he did every night. Becky Stephanie Val Renee Heather Melody and so on and so one. Till it got to the point he had to write the name on his hand. Even with all those girls he still found me himself after some fun in the sheets watching her vlog looking at her social media. Will and his dad were close so that gave him all the gossip on her outside of social media.

“ Hey, dad do you mind if I talk to you” Finn said clenching onto his crutches. He nods and motions to come in. He was on the phone with a client. Finn is their top player. “ Didn't see last night. Another night out” dad said looking at Finn. Playing on his crutches he nods yes. “ So what is it, son. You need a ride to therapy today. Day off” dad ask. Finn turns one of the pictures over and looks at it. Everyone at his brother's high graduation. Before they even knew there was an actual name for what his mom had.

“ I have been thinking. You said some time ago. Dawson spoke to you help you understand. I want to know what it is” Finn said passing the picture back. Dad sat back and look at the picture. A tear slowly drips down his cheek. His dad was a proud man proud men don’t cry. He taught him that. He taught every one of them that. “ She told me what I need to know. She introduced me to the man you were. The man I made and the one I could have made if I continue the way I did. Even told me the husband the father I was. She then asked me what part I wanted. Dam girl had me crying like a newborn baby. I didn’t care for a word until I realized she was right. I called her that night again crying feel I failed. I was asked by your wife a stranger to look after all of you. That weekend Will invited me out on our trip. Who thought all I ever needed was a friend” dad said with a chuckle.

A young girl with strawberry curly hair walks up to Finn as he was laying by the country club pool. Peeking up he smiled. He gets up and follows her into a men's bathroom. “ God my girlfriends are gonna die when I tell them I road the Finn Cox” strawberry said fixing her hair. Finn put his pants back up and yawned. Wasn't best sure was not the worst he had. “ Or don’t waste your time. Berry” Finn said looking down at his phone. The girl sat behind him and kiss his neck. “ Why don’t you put this down and let me entertain you a bit longer” the girl said kissing him across his neck and shoulders. Still, on his phone, he stops a video. “ How do you think this would taste like” Finn said showing her the phone. There was a toasted bun with fresh fruit beside it. She tossed it away then continue to kiss him rubbing her hand across his thigh. Flustered he tossed her off and show her again. “ It looks like shit” the girl said ignored. He smirked. “ Actually it’s pretty good. Looks good though I think it’s a Scottish dish. Hey huh, you think you can cook this. All the girls I asked said they can’t” Finn said watching the video again. “ How many people you show this shit too” the girl asked. Scratching his nose. “ So that’s a no. You think any bakeries would have it.” Finn asked. Upset at his manor she slapped him across his cheek and walk off. He looks at himself one good time in the mirror. Damn not again

By the time he got home, there was a package for his dad from Camille. Fascinated by what could be intakes it inside. Sitting on his couch he grabs his keys and opens the package. Inside was a letter to dad, Birthday card for him, and a signed Jersey with a video for Finn. Grabbing up the jersey he walks back to his room and closes the door. It was a New York Ranger jersey with all the players' signatures. Pulling it up he grabs a hanger and puts it up on his shelf.

Hey Finn. So I know I was just checking in on you. Just heading back to the states. You might be down so I decided to surprise you with a limited edition preview of the triangle experience. So we are at the MSG where yes the Ranger playing Tampa Bay Lightning. Two of what World Wide Web has said is a good show. I am here with Will he came by for the weekend say hi. A great game was able to get the teams to sign the jerseys said you a cancer kid. Remember you can do what changes the world in a better way. Bye Finno

Fin lay down across his bed rewatch the video once more. She didn’t have to do it and maybe she was doing it for dad. Anyway, this video gave him an idea of something that might help him his dad and others.

Pulling up to the local Polar Ice Box Fin grab his papers and his good tie. He was hoping his classes and work would help today. Something important for once and not so selfish. They didn’t come right away which was good because he was able to practice. He got his bill of health and he wanted to hit the comeback with a bang. For you mommy

The idea was simply a place for boys and girls to learn to be healthy and play hockey. It came to him years ago but it didn’t hit him till that package. He talks about his dad and Will to get some people together to want to help start the program. While it didn’t become a franchise as he went in with. They agree to give it a chance. A chance was all he needed. Just one.

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unbrckenwallsxinspo · 4 years

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Trigger // SELF PARA

When: April 1st, after midnight

Where: Devon and Alyssa’s House

Summary: Kinsley Maxwell decides to play an April Fools prank on Devon, but it goes horribly wrong.

Trigger Warnings: Guns, mentions of death, murder, suicide, and drugs

Mentions: Devon, Ryan, Tavin, Alex, Kinsley

@thewiildthings

🖂 Incoming message! From: [email protected] To:[email protected] I found some old pics of Jade that I thought you might like to have.

A few years had passed since Jade's murder. Devon was now only a couple weeks away from his 25th birth, he was raising their daughter as a single parent, and still lived in the two story cabin home that his in-laws had helped them purchase. He wished he could say that life was good, but deep down, there was still pain that just wouldn't disappear no matter how hard he tried to ignore it. No matter what he did, he still lived with the memory of watching Jade take her last breath.

It was after midnight in Nashville. He should've been asleep, but instead he was on his laptop, looking at the email that his mother-in-law had sent. Four pics of Jade that he'd never seen before. The first one being when she was only about four months pregnant with Alyssa and went to a late night diner with friends. The second being her with friends at a hotel about a month before she and Devon got married. The third was her wit friends atsome electronics store in a town they didn't recognize. The fourth was one that Devon had taken of her while on a lunch date after their wedding. So many good memories. No more to be made.

A year after she died, Devon tried to take his own life. Months of therapy followed until he finally stopped going. In his mind, he no longer needed the help. For a few years, that mindset worked. Until recently. Lately he'd begun to sink back into a depression, suicidal thoughts and all. Alyssa was the only reason he hadn't ended his life. She was his reason for living. Still, he was haunted by nightmares of Jade's death. He blamed himself for it happening. After all, he shouldn't have tried to escape, then the robber wouldn't have felt the need to fire his weapon. So it had to be Devon's fault, right?

"Daddy?"

He clicked out of his email and closed his laptop as soon as he saw the seven-year-old in the doorway, clinging to her teddy bear and rubbing her tired blue eyes. "Hey, love, can't sleep?"

Alyssa shook her head and climbed onto the bed, nuzzling her face against Devon's shoulder. She knew how to make him feel safer without even trying. Wrapping his arms around his little girl, he laid back against the pillows, a heavy sigh leaving his lips as he looked at the clock on his nightstand. It was 12:30 AM. He'd surely be awake until it was alright daylight out. That was often how his nights turned out. Good thing he had tomorrow off from work.

"Daddy?"

"What's up, kiddo?" He ran his fingers through her hair, forcing himself to smile as he lovingly kissed her head.

"Do you think I'll ever see my mommy again?"

The question was anything but simple. He believed they would see Jade in the afterlife, but he knew what Alyssa really meant, and he couldn't give her the answer she wanted. That broke his heart.

"Someday, baby." He gulped, rubbing her back. He was kind of relieved when she didn't push the issue farther. Normally she had a lot of questions about pretty much anything and everything, but he preferred that she not ask too many questions about her mom. He never had the right answers.

Their brief conversation was interrupted by something outside. Something that Devon didn't recognize. He supposed that it could have been the wind or a trashcan falling over or a bird or something, but it sounded like none of those things. So Devon's fight or flight response was quick to kick in.

"Stay here. Try to get some sleep." He murmured as he got up from the bed. A few months after Jade died, he purchased a pistol without telling anyone. He kept it in a safe in his closet and only he knew the combination. Maybe right now he didn't need the gun, maybe there was a logical explanation, but that knocking...it didn't sound good, so of course his first reaction was self defense.

"Dad--"

"Stay here!" He whispered before he walked into the door, shutting the door behind him. He was about to head downstairs when he heard the familiar ring of his phone, which was coming from Alyssa's room. Huh. He must have left it there when he was putting her to bed earlier.

He hurried into her room and grabbed the phone, answering with urgency.

"Hello?!"

"Hello, friend. Remember me?"

"Who is this?!" Devon snapped as he pointed the gun in front of him, inching slowly out of the room and towards the stairs.

"You mean you don't remember me? From the Flash Mart?"

Chills went down Devon's spine. The Flash Mart was where Jade was killed. But her killer was in prison! He couldn't possibly be calling. This had to be a joke. A sick, evil joke.

"Come on, Devon. I met you and that lovely wife of yours for a few minutes. Lovely couple, you two were."

"Whoever you are, you better leave me alone or I'm calling the police!" He yelled before promptly hanging up. He choked back sobs as his shaking hand clutched the gun tighter, walking slowly down the stairs. To his horror, his front door was wide open, wind blowing leaves across the floor. And in the doorway was a tall, hooded figure wearing a hockey mask and holding what appeared to be a machete. A bloody machete.

BANG!

Devon didn't notice that the man had practically jumped back through the doorway in fear, as a bullet struck the floor and another at the wall. His mind was spinning, but he was focused enough to fight back against the perceived enemy. This was not happening. This was NOT happening.

"BRENDON, YOU WERE SUPPOSED TO BE JASON VOORHEES OR SOMETHING, NOT MY SISTER'S KILLER, YOU MORONIC ASSHOLE! Tavin, seriously, get over here now. Devon's got a gun! Shit shit shit...No, I'm hiding behind the car!"

Devon paused at the sound of Kinsley's voice. He knew this was some kind of prank that she'd come up with, but his mind was racing and his muscles were so tense that somehow he still felt like there was danger. So the gun never left his hands and his finger never left the trigger as he searched the surrounding area for Kinsley's "friend."

"Devon, it was a prank!"

Devon no longer heard a word Kinsley was screaming at him. He was focused entirely on finding the asshole she'd used for said prank. The scary thing was that he wasn't even thinking of the potential consequences of his actions. He didn't think about the possibility that he might hurt or even kill someone. He was definitely not himself in that moment.

"W-where are you..." He murmured, panicked tears in his eyes. The flashbacks were playing over and over in his head, and he felt nothing except a desperate desire to protect himself and his daughter. In that moment, he wasn't at his home. He was back at that convenience store and he was fighting for his life.

He was so deeply trapped in his own mind that he didn't hear the slam of the car door a few feet away. He heard someone call his name and he cried out softly as he whipped around, pointing the gun in the direction of the voices. Then, all of a sudden, he felt a pair of arms grab him from behind, the gun falling from his hand.

"Ryan, did you just forget that he has PTSD?! You don't sneak up behind someone who--" Was that Alex or Tavin speaking? Devon had no idea. He was too busy crying and trying to get out of Ryan's grasp, panicked breaths escaping him.

"Well, did you want him to shoot someone? Because I don't know about you, but I like liv-Thank you, Devon, for your knee making contact with Ryan Jr." Ryan groaned as he let Devon go, gripping his crotch as if that would relieve the pain Devon just inflicted upon him.

Devon was spiraling. Heavy breathing, sweat dripping down his face, barely holding back sobs as he combed his fingers through his hair. He was going insane, he was sure of it. Maybe he was even dying. At this point, he didn't mind that possibility too much. He just wanted the pain to stop. He didn't want to live in fear anymore and if dying would relieve that fear, then so be it.

"Okay, I got pot, coke, or molly. Take your pick." Dammit, Alex. No one gives a shit about your stupid drugs.

Suddenly, Devon's mood changed from fear and panick to pure anger. "Alex, I don't want your drugs. I want to take that pistol and put an end to me misery, that's what. I'm sure you can relate, right? Besides, we all know that you'd rather keep that shit for yourself."

Alex had a stricken expression on his face now and if Devon were in his right mind, he'd feel guilty. But he didn't. He didn't care if Alex got his feelings hurt. He had just as many problems as Devon did, if not more, and it was time someone called him out on it.

"Dude, that wasn't cool and you know it. Let's just...go inside, okay?" He felt Tavin's hands on his biceps and he relaxed only slightly, shaking with panic and anger as he was ushered into the house. He was close to breaking down again, but whatever. Tavin had seen him break before. In fact, he was the one person that Devon felt comfortable being vulnerable in front of.

"I'm gonna use the restroom." He gulped, shaking off his friend's hands and hurrying into the bathroom, shutting and locking the door behind him. He took the time to look at his reflection. Messy hair that he hadn't washed in days or really maintained at all, heavy bags under his eyes, pale skin that was currently sparkling with sweat, obvious weight loss...clearly life had been kicking him in the ass and he hadn't done a damn thing to make it any better. He didn't see the point.

Momentarily, he saw Jade standing behind him, then he saw a dark, hooded figure drag her away. He sobbed as he threw a punch at the mirror, watching the glass shatter. What followed was a few knocks on the door and Tavin calling his name. Devon figured if he stayed quiet long enough, maybe he'd be left alone. But of course not. Within a few minutes, the door somehow opened. Ryan had picked the lock. Lovely.

"Dude, what the--" Tavin grabbed his hand and said something to Ryan about getting the first aid kit from the kitchen. Then he felt Tavin's arms around him and he finally broke completely, tears soaking his friend's shirt.

#{self para; devon}

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artificialqueens · 4 years

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Couples' Therapy : Chapter one (Branjie) - BlackHighHeels

AN: This is a ‘kind of 'sequel to “For they know not what they do”.

Actually it’s just a way for me to have fun with this idea of therapy and Branjie combined ;) I am not sure however how much sense some parts make, if you don’t know the the first part.

(Read on AO3)

Chapter 1: Mommy Dearest

"Hey, you look nothing like Dr. Phil, mama,“ Jose greets their therapist when they walk into her office. His charm is coming across and it hits Brock once again how incredibly charismatic his boyfriend is, even when he is nervous.

"I’d hope so,” the small blonde woman replies, with an amused smile on her face. “My name is Dr. Bernard, but you can call me Laurie. Most of my clients do.”

“I’m Brock,” he introduces himself as they shake hands.

“Jose.” Another handshake, then they both take the offered seats on a couch opposite the chair where the therapist sits down.

“I hope traffic wasn’t too bad and you found my office alright.”

“It was fine,” Brock replies politely.

“It was the usual rush hour nightmare, bitch, that’s why you made us leave an hour earlier than necessary and we been hanging out at Starbucks round the corner for the last forty minutes,” Jose snorts with amusement, teasing Brock. He, however doesn’t find it too funny and gives the therapist an apologetic look. This is just about a bit of small talk and not about recounting every detail of their drive.

“Still fine. We got here on time, found everything alright.”

“I’m glad you’re here,” Laurie intervened. “So, how can I help you?

"We here for the couple’s counselling therapy stuff. We thought maybe you could fix us so we won’t break up again. 'Cause it fucking sucked.” Jose mumbles more than he speaks, the longer he talks.

“Is this your first time in therapy?”

“Yes,” Brock nods.

“No,” Jose says at the same time.

“You’ve been to couples therapy before?” Brock is more than surprised.

“Huh? No, no. Not Couple therapy. Just therapy. Feels like I spent most of my damn time at school in some sort of therapy.” That is also news to Brock, but he decides not to get into that here. He will just ask him once they are back home. Jose looks really uncomfortable and shy now, so he’ll need a moment anyway.

“So, seeing as neither of you has been to couples therapy before, I think we should start with the basics, so you can decide, if you want to really do this. First, everything you say is absolutely confidential. I understand that the both of you are in showbiz, so I want to point that out that this is a safe place.” They both nod and Brock feels himself relax a bit, even though the whole thing still makes him anxious. The fact that Jose is so unusually quiet and shy forces him to remain calm though. They can’t both lose it.

“As for the rest, I will usually give you some sort of homework. And I also want to point out that therapy only works if you are honest, but also respectful with each other. So, no yelling, no insults or threats.”

“You did good when you researched the shit for our big talk, boo” Jose whispers, meaning Laurie can still hear it. Brock just smiles at him when he feels his hand slide into his at the same time.

“Also, I don’t know if that’s an issue here, but no drugs or alcohol while your are here. I know these talks can be tricky, but I can’t really work with you if you are under the influence.” They both nod, knowing that this wouldn’t be an issue for either of them.

“Soo, shall we start?” Laurie smiles and grabs a notepad from the table. Brock feels Jose tightening his grip on his hand. “How about you tell me a bit about yourself and the relationship? Brock, why don’t you start?”

He takes a calming breath before he starts to talk and laces his fingers through Jo’s to make the physical connection tighter.

“Uhm, we’re both working as drag queens and met while filming Drag race. We got together in front of the camera’s and then dated for a while afterwards. After couple of months we broke up, because it wasn’t working for either of us. But, like…. we remained friends. At some point I moved here to L.A. and Jo moved in with me for logistical reasons. We became closer again and finally got back together. We’re here now so the issues we had back then won’t break us up again.” It is the best he can do for now. He knows it is a very brief version and a lot of details are missing, but he doesn’t know this woman yet. And the fact that she’s taking notes doesn’t make it any easier.

“Jose?”

“Uuhm… what he said. I agree,” he mumbles. Brock gets the impression that if he could, Jose would hide behind him or underneath the table. Brock has rarely seen him this shy and intimidated. Where is Miss Vanjie when he needs her?

“Can you still tell me your own version of events?” Laurie’s smile is friendly and open. Brock really likes her. She reminds him of his best friend in South Africa.

“You a Emeli Sande fan?” Jose asks, suddenly a bit more himself. The therapist just laughs and looks expectantly at him. “So, uhh… I fucked up the first time I was on Drag Race, but then became a meme and they called me back for another season. He was on there as well. We started jokin’ and flirtin’ from the get go and then suddenly we were kissing. We couldn’t talk for shit or do anything more, 'cause of the cameras. He kicked my out by winning the lip-sync against me and Miss Vanjie had to go home for a second time. Once he was done filmin’ we spent some time together and dated for 18 weeks. Then we broke up, cause he wanted his freedom and my clingy ass was travelin’ all the time because of season 10. After filmin’ the reunion and the finale and all that shit we went on tour and started hanging out again. Then started doing more than hanging out.” Brock does a double take when Jose actually blushes.

“Were you back together or were you just having sex?” the therapist asks.

“We were just hooking up. I knew he didn’t want me back, but I couldn’t stay away. I mean, look at him, he cute right?” Jose smiles and slowly relaxes. “We lost contact after the tour for a while, then bumped into each other. And again, I couldn’t resist him. But, uhm, he… did what he did and I dated someone else and then after the break-up he asked me if I wanna join him in his house to look after the kitty cats and 'cause I was looking for a new apartment. And then… yeah… we started talking, started flirting, started hooking up again and then got back together. And now, four months later, here we are.”

“Thank you for sharing that with me, both of you. That was very interesting. If each of you could name one thing that you think is the biggest problem in your relationship, what would it be?”

“I start again?” Brock wonders.

“Whoever wants to go first.”

“I’m fucking scared all the time,” Jose suddenly blurts out and Brock’s head whips around to face him, mouth hanging open.

“What?” he gasps. He is truly shocked by Jose’s choice of words. Why is he scared? Not of him, right? And why all the time? What is going on?

“What are you scared of?” Laurie speaks out loud what Brock also wants to know, but she is a lot less panicked than he feels.

“One of us gonna fuck up. He gonna leave. We gonna fight again and I’m gonna get so fucking mad again I wanna hit him again,” Jose takes his hand back and leans forward, both arms resting against his upper thighs, head hanging down. “Me being too much. He wanting his freedom again.” He shrugs but doesn’t look up.

“So, is it ok to say you’d think 'trust’ is an issue? Trust in the relationship and in your partner? Maybe in yourself?”

“Yeah,” Jose nods and finally raises his head. Brock reaches over and rubs his back encouragingly. The slow movement calms him as much as his boyfriend.

“Brock, what do you think?”

“I agree,” he says and takes his eyes off Jose to look at the therapist. “Although I think that the reason why we have trust issues is because of our communication problems.”

“Yeah, boo, we really suck at it most of the time.” Jose’s hand is back in his, gives it an encouraging squeeze.

“Do you think you don’t communicate well because you don’t trust each other, or you don’t trust each other because you don’t communicate adequately?” Jose looks at him helplessly and Brock gets that he doesn’t understand the last word, but doesn’t want to ask.

“I think either, both. I don’t like talking about hard things, it gives me anxiety. But if I have to talk to someone, I know I can talk to him, better than to anyone else. Just when it’s about us, it gets hard. He doesn’t trust me being committed to the relationship or him. But he usually tries to communicate with me. I just don’t always wanna talk to hear it.” He doesn’t really know how to explain it. It’s like a vicious circle and he doesn’t really know where it starts or ends. It’s like the question with the hen and the egg.

“Jose, you agree?”

“Yeah, sounds right.”

“Ok, then I think we should stop here for today and I’m going to give you your homework for next time. Do you have any questions before then?”

“We not gonna get graded, right?” it bursts out of Jose and Brock has to laugh. The panic on his boyfriend’s face about possible grades is simply too cute.

“No, you won’t,” Dr. Bernard smiles as well. “Any other questions?”

“Actually, Doc, I think I do,” Jose says and surprises Brock once again. “I think maybe you could help us with a real communication issue we having right now.” Brock groans loudly, because he suddenly knows what’s coming.

“Jo, this is really not Dr…” he tries to stop him.

“No, it’s ok. You can ask and I’ll tell you if it’s too much,” he is stopped by the doctor.

“Imma be real quick,” Jose is looking smug now and continues. “This morning we had a fight cause my man thinks it’s my job to tell my mama and aunt that they shouldn’t hang by the pool all the time and shouldn’t come in with their own key whenever they like. Now, I know they’re my family, problemo is, that he the one who gave them the key and he the one who said, and I quote 'You can come over any time’. What do you say to that, Dr. Laurie?”

“Why don’t you want to be the one who talks to your mother?"

"She’s gonna whoop my ass and think I don’t want her no more. Also I don’t care if they hang at our place.”

“You do care! You’re as annoyed as me,” Brock interrupts.

“I am, but I told you before: you fucked up. You fucked up when you gone and said Bienvenido and gave them the key, so you fix it, boo,” Jose leans back against the couch.

“Why don’t you talk to them together and explain that you need your privacy and agree beforehand on some rules for the use of the key?” The therapist proposes.

“She’ll whoop both our asses!”

“Don’t you always say that we’re in this together, papi?” Brock laughs and bumps his shoulder against Jose’s.

“You suck!” Jose huffs, but smiles.

“More questions? About the sessions? Anything?” the therapist asks again.

“Nope,” Jose shakes his head this time and Brock does the same.

“Good, then I want to start with a small exercise for next week. I want each of you to write down three small things in your relationship that annoy you about the other one. And three small things you love about each other. For now I don’t want you to talk about any of this at home, because we will talk about it here. Ok?”

“Dully noted,” Jose nods as they both get up. With another handshake they leave the office and Brock takes a deep breath when they’re outside. Although it wasn’t as bad as he’d feared, he is still glad he has another week until they have to go back. If only the talk to his mother in law wouldn’t await in between now and then…

TBC

#rpdr fanfiction #branjie #brooke lynn hytes #vanessa vanjie mateo #couples therapy #blackhighheels #canon compliant

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the--blackdahlia · 5 years

Text

Free Falling (Tommy x Nikki)

Title: Free Falling

Summary: *Sequel to Nothing Else Matters and Holding on* Tommy’s still struggling and trying to hide it from Nikki.

Warnings: There’s nothing explicit in this. Just some mental health issues and fluff.

It had been over a year since Nikki had found Tommy half dead on the floor of his kitchen. Things had been a slow process. There were good days and there were bad days. Nikki was trying so hard to make sure there were more good than bad, but sometimes, things just couldn’t be helped. But Nikki was sure Tommy was getting better, and that’s all that mattered.

They had started dating not long after Tommy moved in with Nikki. Tommy had been a little nervous as to how Mick and Vince would take it, but they seemed pretty understanding, cracking jokes about how the two of the terror twins had been a married couple since 1981 anyway. It put Tommy at ease, and Nikki was just so happy to see him smiling again.

That’s what led them to the point they were at.

“Wait, what?” Vince asked one day when him, Nikki, and Mick met for lunch while Tommy was at therapy.

“You heard him Vince,” Mick told him, smiling. “It’s about damn time. I thought we’d be getting a surprise trip to Vegas after he moved in with you.”

“Marriage Nikki? Really?” Vince asked. “Like, are you sure you want that?”

“Of crouse I do.” Nikki told him. Vince just sighed. “What?”

“Don’t you think that’ll scare him or something?” Vince asked. “I mean, he’s not exactly the most mentally stable person right now.”

“He’s gotten better,” Nikki told him. “He smiles more. He wants to play the drums again. And god, his cooking is amazing. He’s been showing me plans for a better drum set for concerts. And he’s been writing songs with me again!”

“I just...I don’t want to see him fall again,” Vince told him. “The kid might annoy the shit out of me, but if anything happened to him…”

“We’ve talked about it and he seems cool with it,” Nikki told them. “I’m not going to ask like right this second or anything. I’m gonna give him a little more time.”

“We start touring soon,” Mick told him. “This could be the test on if you two should be togehter like that or not. We all know how things get on a tour.”

“You think he’s ready for a tour?” Vince asked, looking over at Nikki.

“Yeah,” Nikki told them, even though something in the back of his mind was telling him different. “He’s good to go.”

****

Tommy finished up his therapy early and left the center. Nikki didn’t drive him to them anymore. Not because he didn’t want to, but because Tommy told him he was fine and he didn’t have to anymore. It gave him a chance to filter through emotions on the way home. He could take the scenic route, blair some music, and let it all out before he went home to Nikki.

He had just talked to his therapist about going back on tour. He thought he was ready, and he was happy to be doing it. But here recently, he could feel himself forcing himself to smile more. He didn’t want to cook as much as he had at the beginning of his therapy. He found himself thinking about the past more, looking at old pictures from the days on the strip, when Nikki hid behind his hair, Mick had those over contoured cheekbones, Vince looked like David Lee Roth, and he was a carefree party animal.

Sometimes he missed that Tommy.

The radio was playing the newest single they had dropped while on hiatus from touring. Tommy hated it. He felt like he was holding them back from achieving more. Because he had done something stupid and they had to stop doing what they wanted to do. He shook his head, trying to get those ideas out of his head.

They had one more practice before the tour launched with a kick ass show in LA. And Tommy had to prepare himself for it.

****

Practice had been great. Tommy had kept a smile on his face the entire time. They left the studio afterwards, everyone heading home. Tommy and Nikki went back to the house they shared, the house that used to be exclusivly Nikki’s. Tommy worked on dinner while Nikki sat at the table with tour notes and lyric sheets spread out in front of him. It all felt so domestic. Like they hadn’t just been destroying hotels and doing cocaine just a few years prior.

“How are you feeling?” Nikki asked out of nowhere. Tommy jumped a little. He honestly wasn’t sure how to answer the question. Nikki looked up from his papers. “Babe?”

“Sorry, got distracted,” Tommy turned and smiled at Nikki. “I’m great.”

“You sure?” Nikki asked as he got up and went to the drummer, wrapping his arms around his slim waste. “You can talk to me.”

“I’m perfectly fine.” Tommy melted into his embrace. Nikki placed a kiss to his temple before looking at the food Tommy was cooking.

“It smells good,” Nikki smiled and let go of Tommy, heading back to the table to get back to work on some things, leaving Tommy to his cooking.

****

“Just like riding a bike.” Vince told the other three as they made their way towards the stage the next night. The tour offically started tonight, but they didn’t have to hit the road for a couple days.

“I missed this,” Mick stretched, trying to get some relief to his sore bones. “I’ll hate it in a few weeks, but right now I love it.”

“It’s nice getting back to work.” Nikki added. Tommy stayed quiet, which was unlike him. The three looked at the drummer.

“No sarcastic comments?” Vince asked. “You feeling okay?”

“I’m great dudes,” Tommy offered a smile. “Let’s kick some ass!” They all looked at each other and nodded before heading out.

****

There had been so much adrenaline during the show. Especially with Tommy’s new drum set up. The crowd had went wild for it. But Tommy’s mood hadn’t improved with the close of the concert. In fact, he felt worse than before and he just wanted to go home. But Nikki was being mobbed by fans, reporters, and record executives. Vince was chatting up some girls. Mick was no where to be seen. So Tommy slipped out a side door and started walking.

“Vince!” Nikki called out awhile later. “You seen Tommy?”

“Not since we finished up the concert,” Vince admitted. “I’m sure he’s around here somewhere. Did you check all the dressing rooms and stuff?”

“Yeah.” Nikki nodded. Vince could see some fear in Nikki’s eyes.

“Let’s go look for him,” Vince said. “I’m sure he’s not far.”

****

Tommy was sitting on the the railing of a bridge. He had just kept walking until he got tired, and his long legs had carried him a fair distance from the venue. He sat on the bridge and overlooked the water. He let his mind wounder as he watched the water move along.

His meds that he was on didn’t seem to be cutting it. His doctor seemed hesitant to up the doseage due to possible side effects, and other things on the market didn’t seem like a good fit. He was stuck and it was getting harder and harder to do things that made him happy. He was trying so hard to keep it from people. Because he knew the first thing they would do was look at his scars. They would look at his wrists and Nikki still got emotional when things like that were brought up.

“What the fuck is wrong with me?!” Tommy screamed into the night. He was sure anyone who would come by would think he was batshit crazy. He was screaming at nothing, sitting on the side of a bridge. Any sane person would’ve called the police, thinking there were a loon about to jump off a bridge. Tommy rested his head in his hands, honestly not sure what to do.

That’s when the headlights lit up everything. He barely had time to react when he heard his name being called.

“Tommy! No!” Nikki screamed.

“Nikki?” Tommy asked. Nikki was on his knees by Tommy, pulling him to his chest while Mick and Vince stood back from them.

“Fuck baby,” Nikki whispered, holding him close to him. “I...what are you doing out here?” Nikki pulled back to look into Tommy’s eyes.

“I just walked,” Tommy shrugged. “I needed to think about things.”

“Were you going to…” Nikki trailed off. Tommy shook his head.

“Just thinking…” Tommy told him, eyes cast down. “Thinking about how not okay I am.”

“Tommy…” Nikki saw the defeated slump in his shoulders. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Because you guys already put so much time on hold for me,” Tommy admitted to them. He looked up at Vince and Mick. “A year guys. Because I did something stupid. You had to give up a year of doing what you guys loved because of me!”

“It wasn’t like that kid. Not at all.” Mick told him.

“We all needed a break man,” Vince added. “Just some of us more than others.”

“Maybe you guys need to get another drummer,” Tommy told them. “I don’t want to screw anything up.”

“No,” Nikki shook his head. “I won’t go on tour without you. And Vince and Mick wouldn’t either.” The two other band members nodded. “I love you T-Bone. And I’ll be damned if we have someone else behind that kit besides you.”

“How can you love me?” Tommy asked. “I’m just a big fucking mess.”

“Have you met Nikki?” Vince asked. Mick slapped the back of his head. “Ow!”

“He’s right though,” Nikki said. “I’m not exactly the poster boy for mental health. But I’m trying so hard to help you because I love you. And I can’t imagine my life without you. I don’t want a life without you.”

“Almost sounds like a propsal,” Tommy smiled a little. He couldn’t imagine anyone wanting to marry him. Not after everything. Nikki looked over at Vince and Mick, who offered thumbs up.

“I didn’t want to do this this way,” Nikki sighed. He reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out a box. “I thought about waiting until after the tour, just to make sure you were okay. But honetly, that was apart of the speech I had been practicing.”

“Nik…” Tommy stared at the box. Nikki opened it to show two matching black bands.

“I got one for each of us, to show that we’re together,” Nikki told him. “But I’m asking you, will you marry me Tommy?”

“You want to marry me?” Tommy asked. “This isn’t a sick joke? And there’s guys with cameras in the cars to make fun of me when I say yes?”

“I might pull pranks on you, turn the whites pink, draw a dick on your face, but I would never do that to you,” Nikki told him. He used his free hand to cup Tommy’s face. “I will never intentionally hurt you.”

“Yes.” Tommy told him. Nikki stared at him for a second. “I said yes Nikki.” The smile that spread on Tommy’s face warmed Nikki’s heart. He turned back to look at Mick and Vince.

“He said yes!” Nikki called out, excited.

“We know. We can hear!” Vince yelled back.

“Way to ruin the mood Vincent.” Mick sighed. “Come on, let’s leave them alone. I’m sure they’re going to be busy these next few days before we hit the road.” Nikki had been putting Tommy’s new ring on him when he heard that and he looked at Tommy.

“Can you still do the tour?” He asked, letting Tommy put the other ring on him.

“I think so,” Tommy nodded. “As long as you’re there.”

“I thought I’d go to the Bahamas and let you three handle it,” Nikki laughed. Tommy playfully hit his arm. “Ouch! I’m kidding!” He leaned in and kissed Tommy deeply. When the broke apart, Nikki rested his forehead against Tommy’s. “There’s no place I’d rather be than with you.”

Forever Tags: @anathewierdo @dekahg @marvel-af-imagines @feelmyroarrrr @nanie5 @imboredsueme @gemini0410 @aiaranradnay @babypink224221 @mogaruke @xxwarhawk @sandlee44 @shatteredabby @caswinchester2000 @supernaturalwincestsblog @lauravic @mrsambroserollinsacklesmgk @teller258316

Motley Crue Tags: @primal-screamer @waywardprincess666 @twistnet @saint-of-los-angeles @vader-kai @motleyfuckingcruee

#motley crue #nikki sixx #Tommy Lee #terror twins #tommy lee x nikki sixx #nikki sixx x tommy lee #fanfiction

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kariachi · 5 years

Text

And we’re going to try for another two episodes today, which’ll be the last season 4 ones I have access to in a language I know for a while. So after today we’ll probably be getting breaks of at least a week between liveblogs. But that’s something to worry about then, this is now, and we’re going for What Rhymes With Omnitrix.

There’s poetry in this episode, I love poetry. Ya know before I settled deep into fic I used to mostly do poetry? Anymore I only rarely do, but back in like the sixth, seventh grade? Poetry all over the place. Then I realized I could induce emotion better through narrative prose and dialogue and a true ficcer was born.

Anyway, is another Kevin episode of course, and Charm but who gives two shits about Charm, so let’s get into it! My son and poetry!

They’re just dropping us right in with Charm, who has poetry very blatantly about Gwen and how she hates her. In public. Can’t fault the kid for confidence or dedication.

This girl and Kevin both need therapy, preferably in different cities because last time she and Kev were in the same space he looked this close to killing her and while that would be entertaining to watch, kinda hard to go to therapy when a pissed off tween is carving your bones into parts for his latest piece of tech. Because if anybody would tap into the necromantic arts purely as a fuck you to someone he’d already killed, it’s reboot!Kevin.

‘Ode to Hating Gwen So Much #16′ Charm, kiddo, you need therapy and a hobby. Have you considered felting? Maybe videogames? A couple hours of Terraria would do you good.

Polite people at the (presumably) Amateur Poetry Night.

Oh look, a Kevin. Of course any book you carry around is gonna be black, you aesthetic mess.

Also can I pause a moment here in appreciation for every bathroom we’ve seen so far I think appearing to be unisex? Very nice.

“Conning” and here is where I heave a sigh and my bloodpressure goes up a bit, because what she did to Kevin was not conning in any way, that was clearly and blatantly magical enslavement complete with chains, torture, and mindcontrol. You can’t just downplay that shit like this and expect me to go along with it, not when the sequel series already tended to pull that, especially with regards to Charmcaster doing that sorta shit. You do not get to blatantly show Kevin being forced to do things against his will, being tortured for fighting back, and then try to pass it off as him having been tricked into working with her. What the fuck is with this franchise with having Charm do horribly evil shit and then just waving it off?

At least Kevin still clearly hates her.

Charm trying to play like she’s actually gotten more powerful since they last saw each other and is not, ya know, powerless in front of somebody she literally tortured and who is bigger than her even without his shapechanging watch. At least she’s reacting appropriating even if Kevin isn’t. Laying it on kinda thick though for someone who just ruined her makeup with tears not three minutes ago.

Are these children both trying to outbluff each other? Oh that works. I can totally work with a Kevin who’s kinda scared of Charm after what she did, alongside a Charm that’s definitely scared of Kevin now that she’s powerless and has hurt him so bad. That is something I can enjoy. Not that Kevin does it particularly well, but he’s young yet and anyway he doesn’t need to bluff well to avoid trouble here, he just needs to fall for Charm’s bluff.

And lo, the classic ‘we bumped into each other and dropped our books, then each grabbed the wrong book when we walked away’ trope. Always a good one. I hope they realize they have the wrong books fast though, given they look nothing alike.

Definitely a unisex bathroom, nice.

Charm’s uncle gave her a magic amulet. I’ve seen people theorize this is referring to Hex, but I don’t think that makes sense given what we know of either of them so far so I’m not giving the reboot back those points.

Of course Slam Poetry Night attracts a Rath. Of course. I wondered how they were going to get Ben into this.

Max really needs to stop using slang from any decade. It’s just painful.

Gwen sees Kevin take the stage and just, “oh no”.

So, this is definitely where Kev realizes he has Charm’s book, he’d have to, it’s full of somebody else’s poetry.

Also can I just say 1) I am proud of my baby for going into poetry, it is very good for working through your emotions (am proud of Charm for that too, but, ya know, my son vs Charm) and 2) I am not surprised to see him being into poetry given the sheer number of books we see him owning in other series. Like, at least 65, which doesn’t seem like a lot until you remember he’s probably only been acquiring them over the past few years, if not just over the course of the sequels, and that he’d have to be putting aside time specifically to read them given how much shit he’s shown doing regularly. Basically- my boy is literary and it’s wonderful.

And he has realized this ain’t his book.

Ben no heckling! There are rules and manners to the world you know! Gwen smack him.

And upon being heckled Kevin just tosses the book and decides to freestyle it ‘I came out here to have a good time but bitch if you wanna go I’ll go’ style.

He’s not bad. Especially when you consider he’s, so small. As nix would put it ‘this is a fetus’.

Ben, not happy with getting called out.

Ooo, complete with dropping the mike and walking away, point to Kevin! That is Kevin 1:Ben 0 so far this episode.

Ben just the living embodiment of that Pikachu meme after that.

Climbing on stage to try to win a point for himself in this battle of the wordsmithing. Godspeed, Tennyson.

Rath is being Rath and Kevin is just, not impressed. He knows he’s won, he knows Ben is rising to the bait and can’t do shit.

Kevin glancing out into the crowd like ‘am I the only one seeing him being this... wtf? tell me I’m not, we’re all seeing this right?’

Kevin trying to point out to Rath that he is not rapping, not even close, wtf Tennyson. The best part being, I’m fairly sure he’s offended on behalf of all rap at Rath’s complete failure to even be in the same ballpark.

And Ben times out, thank fuck, maybe we can make some progress here before Kevin kicks his ass just to defend the honor of a whole artistic medium.

Also I’m already counting the above as point 2 to Kev.

He hasn’t even started and I’m in pain.

Not eight words in and already Kevin is even less impressed and I’m in even more pain. Just gonna channel Ben trying to rap when I head into urgent care, that should be enough pain to chill me out.

Not even a verse in and Gwen and Max are this close to skipping town and just, abandoning Ben here. “Tennyson? No, no, we’re the Smith family, never seen that kid before, think he might be delusional.”

Point Kevin. He didn’t even have to do anything for this one, just not be Ben.

So that’s Kevin 3:Ben 0, so far this episode.

“Even your grandpa wants you off the stage.” Which is true, but gets Kevin dive-tackled offstage anyway.

Hello Charm, back again I see.

And now it is your turn to realize you have the wrong book?

Oh gods Kevin put effort into making his alien names cooler than Ben’s. And the early ideas were shit. But it worked in the end, so hey. At least we can assume his band-related naming scheme is deliberate in-character. Good on him, too, for writing everything down, it’s good for reference and can help get thoughts straight. (part of why it’s good for dealing with emotional shit)

Don’t you side-eye the camera, child, you mean to tell me you just jumped straight to Charmcaster without any stupid name ideas along the way?

“You started it!”“No you started it!” Okay boys, take you shoving match elsewhere and also Ben, Kev’s right, you are the one who started it with your heckling.

Charmcaster is just, not for Gwen existing in the same area as her. Gwen, meanwhile, is just surprised to see her.

Charm I don’t know what you’re looking for in there, it’s a tween engineer’s private journal, it’s not gonna have anything you can use against Gwen. Against Kevin, probably, against Gwen, not likely.

Charmcaster you cannot get up anyone’s ass about emo poetry when you recited ‘Ode To Hating Gwen So Much #16′ on stage. Pot, kettle, black.

It’s a poetry powered amulet. Either that or Kevin’s poetry counts as spellwork. I wonder if there’s something specific you have to do to make a poem count as a spell or if it’s just whatever works as long as it’s a magic user reading it aloud? Because Charm clearly ain’t meaning to cast this as a spell, at least at first, and yet. That seems kind of worrying though, if that’s the case. I mean what happens if a warlock tries to read his kid some Shel Silverstein at bedtime?

What happens if a sorcerer recites It’s Raining Pigs And Noodles?

I don’t know whether I’m more concerned to continue listening or for how Kevin’ll react if he notices Charm is reading his poetry aloud. I mean this is sounding like a personal one (and speaking as a former 11yo poet with Issues, I know what that sounds like) and gods if somebody I didn’t like was reading one of mine aloud I don’t know if I’d have broken down or killed them where they stood.

Gods I’m gonna have to rewatch this episode when it ends up on CN’s site so I can get a proper transcript of this, their captioning works right.

Welp. I knew emo poetry was powerful but this takes the cake.

Charm that is not your shit! Go find your book again! Or are you worried your shit isn’t as strong as his? I mean I’m getting more and more convinced this isn’t something he’d have been reading aloud.

Oh gods it does only go for real poetry! She tries to throw in some stuff built for spellcrafting and the amulet nopes right out! ‘Sorry, kiddo, there’s gotta be emotion involved or it’s just not happening’.

Hopefully that answers the Pigs And Noodles question

I’m kinda hoping Charm’s mini reign of terror is ended by a beet red Kevin divetackling her from offscreen and wrenching his journal from her. Bonus points if he gets her upside the head with it.

Gotta love when youtube decides to while you’re trying to pause on a scene.

Meanwhile, the boys have worn themselves out with their fighting and arguing.

Kevin, panicking because Charmcaster has his notebook and is also reading it aloud. As is the only proper response to such things.

Ben- out to stop Charmcaster because she a dangerous badguy Kevin- out to stop Charmcaster because she is reading his poetry aloud AAAAA

Charmcaster pls, stop being an ass for seven seconds

Child you cannot just recruit emo boys to write you sad poetry! Especially not after you just read their poetry aloud without their okay, it’s just not right! Besides, that’s not the look of someone who wants anything other than for you to close the book and forget you ever saw anything that was in there.

Charm: Work with me Kevin: Fuck you and the horse you rode in on

“You two are weak” Chamrcaster you only have power right now because you’re taking it from his poetry. I’m pretty sure that puts him above you on the scale by default.

Kevin, joining Team Tennyson purely to get back his notebook. Again, perfectly valid.

TL;DR: Kevin accidentally wrote a spellbook

I’m still wondering what it is that makes his poems work but not Charm’s actual spells? Is it the emotion behind them? In UAF magic was made of life force, in theory putting enough emotion into your writing could maybe imbue the words with magic? Is the solution to this puzzle that Kevin was feeling so strongly when he wrote this shit that they became magic on their own? Or does the amulet just search for true emotion in words and make it so? How is this all working?

If these boys could stop fighting each other for like 13 seconds we might actually get something done.

Charmcaster sealed Gwen’s voice with poetry. Welp.

Welp, the old ‘everything’s an enemy’ illusion trope. Not an illusion this time, but same deal.

Kevin: *easily sees through the spell because Charmcaster!Humongasaur keeps growing his damn tail* “You’d have to be a complete nincompoop not to see through this, right Tennyson?” Ben: *falls right for the spell*

Damnit Ben, Kevin thought you were better than that.

“I can’t not hit the dweeb now.” These children.

Charmcaster leave the innocent bystanders alone!

It takes Ben hearing himself get called Dweebyson to realize he’s fighting Kevin. Kevin knew the deal from the word go. Have I mentioned which one is my son?

Kevin makes Ben embarrass himself to prove he’s him, even though he already knows. Turns to him for a plan.

Kevin as Darkmatter: Finds Ben not timed in, fiddles with Omnitrix to bring it back up to charge, throws him at Charmcaster

“Stop her before she finishes that poem!” Well I’m concerned now

“I’ll show them all what I can do, I’m much more than a leech, their bodies paralyzed by words, their hearts grow heavy from my speech” Yes yes this was a very powerful verse magically I’ll unpause for the results in a second, do you see that second line? That second line there. Do I have to kill somebody? I have to kill somebody don’t I...

Huh, that verse increased gravity on the target(s).

Charm trying to recruit Kevin again, and he’s still turning her down because fuck her and everyone who looks like her. He looks so small in this frame. Very soft faced, he’s got two years younger from the stress of all this.

Oh and she’s pulling out WIPs to blackmail him into complying. I’m going to guess it’s less emo and more Gwen-focused, because I’ve seen media before in my life and know how that shit works. Would prefer more Kevin inner working stuff, but whatcha gonna do. If it is a love poem it’d knock down the rating though.

Also, when you’re so pissed the animators have to give you sharp teeth to emphasize it.

Okay, Kevin’s doodles are cute.

Also why do you have a note in your notebook denoting the secret shit Kevin? Do you have siblings or something? Who is going through your stuff, or that you’re worried might go through your stuff? Or are you just paranoid? It could be the last one.

Okay, so I’m paused on the poem in question and aww, Kevin’s ‘h’s go directly into his vowels. Yes I am commenting on his handwriting let me live. It’s an emotional poem and I’m working out things to say...

Kevin trying to claw his way forward to shut Charm up, it’s not working but he’s trying

Welp

Kevin, wearing a hoodie this episode purely so that during this scene he could drag it over his head to hide his embarrassment at having a poem about caring about Gwen read aloud.

I’m still deducting a point from the episode.

The good news is, the poem restored Gwen’s speech, which, I don’t know what Charm expected to happen there. Of course the semi-positive poem would have a positive effect, come on girl, do you know nothing of magic?

Okay, so, they’re gonna defuse Charm by using her own magic to silence her, via Kevin playing along and writing her a poem that’ll do just that. His improve abilities shall save the day, and what’s left of his pride.

Charm fuck off

Charm, digging your own grave, pls

And Kevin drops the hood when he sees Charm falling hook line and sinker, so proud of himself

Oh that was brilliant darling! “My spells undone, I’m speechless at my own defeat”, two lines and he not only stopped her but undid all the damage she caused! My son! My brilliant, poetic son!

Kevin, so smug

Gwen calling Charm’s ass out on treating people like toys when she of all people should know what that feel like

And not Charm’s amulet responds to her rhymes. Guess it does have to be tied to a proper emotion, rather than just being willy-nilly

Kevin is just happy to get his notebook back.

And Gwen compliments his work which, of course, leads to complete avoidance tactics. I don’t know what you expected Gwen, that last poem was all about him not knowing how to talk to you or even really having a solid hold on how he feels.

And we end with Kevin walking away as Ben disappoints everyone with more horrible rapping.

10/11, the Kevin stuff made up for the Charmcaster bullshit, but we still lose a point for Gwevin as is the rule. I continue to eye Kevin’s backstory with suspicion and suspense.

#ben 10 2.os

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notstars-doors · 6 years

Note

Hi. if you’re still doing requests, what about Dick getting injured and Wally taking care of him after? Thank you!

This one was actually really fun, thanks for requesting it!!

Here we go!

~~~~

“Babe, I’mfine.”

“Don’t.Even.”

“Babe.”

“Dick, Iswear to god, if you try to get out of this wheelchair one more time I’m gonnadrug you.”

“Hey,that’s for-”

“I knowwhat it’s for, you asshole, Leslie gave me a very thorough explanation as tohow to administer your morphine. She also gave me clear instruction to use myjudgement as to when to administer itbecause you and the rest of your family aretoo fucking stubborn.”

Dickpouts, slumping back in his wheelchair as much as he can without injuringhimself further. “I have things to do, Wally.”

“Thingsthat can wait.”

“Wally-”

Wallyrolls the wheelchair to a halt in front of their apartment door, fumblingaround in his pocket for his keys. “Tim is more than capable of taking on yourcase load, and Bruce is there to help. The BPD has already given you paidleave. Just relax, babe. Please.”

Dick sighsas Wally unlocks the door, then pushes the wheelchair inside. The place is a mess,as they haven’t been back here from the hospital for at least a week. Wally hadonly left his bedside a handful of times, most of them to get coffee or food ora nurse when the drugs started to wear off and he could feel the agony in hisleg again.

The livingroom is in shambles, probably from Wally scrambling to pack up before rushingto the hospital, and the kitchen is exactly the way they left it: sink full ofdirty dishes, dinner left to sit on the stove in their hast to leave earlier inthe week. Dick would be ashamed of the place at this point if he wasn’t so exhausted.

They’dbeen called in on an emergency League mission, an attack on Metropolis that hadleft half the city destroyed. Dick had gotten caught in the blast as one of thebuildings collapsed, his right leg and a good part of his side getting torn up bythe shrapnel. He was close enough that it went right through his Kevlar, but thepadding managed to save his internal organs. His leg, however… well, it’ll be awhile before he’s swinging across rooftops, that’s for sure.

Wallywheels him over to the couch, quickly folding up and tossing aside the varietyof blankets that they keep there and fluffing a couple pillows.

“You wannashift over here for a bit? We can watch a movie or something.”

Dick isabout to protest, opening his mouth to tell his fiancé that he has far too much work to do to sit aroundand watch a movie. But when he meets Wally’s eyes, the words falter on histongue.

The manlooks about as tired as Dick feels.

Wally had gotteninjured in the fight as well, but his accelerated healing had taken care ofthat in no time. He’d been checked out of the hospital within hours, but thesecond he could leave his room he’d joined Dick in his. He’d woken up everytime Dick was lucid, held his hand through the pain, signed more paperwork thanshould ever be allowed.

Wally rancoffee for everyone who visited. He sat with Tim when Dick was still sleeping offthe surgery and comforted him, despite being worried sick himself. He raninterference with the Team and transferred all of Dick’s case work to the BatCavewithout blinking an eye. He’d called BPD before Dick was even awake and gottenhim several months paid leave.

He’d doneso much, even before the real work had been addressed. Dick is going to needphysical therapy after this. He’s going to lose muscle mass in spades and willneed to work that back up quickly enough to get back in the field. Probably fasterthan would be recommended. Dick knows he’s stubborn – he’s going to be stubborn about it – and he knows Wally’s going to putup with all of that with zero complaints.

So, Dickcan handle one movie night. For him.

“Soundsgood to me.” Dick smiles, raising his arms for Wally to help him up.

The gingerblinks in surprise, probably expecting at least a little bit of push back, butshakes it off quickly and helps Dick to his feet. Dick hisses through grittedteeth at the weight on his leg, but Wally sets him down gently on the couch andprops him up carefully.

“Cold?”

“Always.”

Wally chuckles,grabbing a soft throw blanket from the back of the couch and tossing it lightlyover Dick’s form.

“I coulduse my space heater of a fiancé too, y’know.” Dick mumbles as Wally tucks theblanket under his toes.

“I’vegotta get the rest of the stuff out of the car.” Wally grabs the remote fromthe coffee table and hands it to Dick. “I’ll be back in a minute. In the meantime,you pick a movie and decide what you want for dinner.”

Wally turnsto leave, but Dick grabs his wrist before he gets too far. “Wait.”

“What’s up?”

“Kiss.”

Wally rollshis eyes affectionately but complies, leaning over the back of the couch andcapturing Dick’s puckered lips in a gentle kiss.

Dick smilesinto it, his fingers slipping into Wally’s soft hair as they break apart. “Thankyou.”

“Don’t besilly, you don’t have to thank me for a ki-”

“No, I mean…”Dick tilts his head towards his fucked up leg, “Thank you.”

Wally looksat him for a minute, his gaze indecipherable, then shakes his head. “Hey. Don’tbe silly.”

He plantsanother kiss on the top of Dick’s head before zipping out of the apartment.Dick sighs, settling more comfortably into the couch. He switches on the TV,flicking through movie channels to see what’s on. He’s too lazy to search throughthe endless options on Netflix, resigned to letting the cable company decidefor him.

Wally’sback in no time, dropping various bags of clothing and medical equipment fromthe hospital in the front hall. He’ll end up dealing with that later, but he’sprobably too anxious to leave Dick alone for long. Which Dick has no problemwith at all, starting to feel a little cuddle-deprived at this point, afterhaving to sleep in a tiny hospital bed for a week.

“What didyou decide on?”

“SantaClause 2 and pizza. I don’t think I can handle Chinese food tonight.”

“Goodcall.” Wally nudges Dick forward on the couch a little bit, squeezing in to sitbehind him and let Dick settle against his chest.

Dick humsat the warmth that radiates from Wally’s body, wiggling closer and pulling Wally’sarms around his waist. “God, I missed this.”

Wally restshis cheek against the side of Dick’s head. “Me too.”

“Hey babe?”

“Yeah?”

“I’m okaynow.”

“I know.”

“You canstop worrying now.”

“Never.”

Dick tiltshis head, so he can peer up at Wally. “Babe.”

“Don’t bother.”

“I’m fine now.”

“Yeah. Now.”

“Wally.” Dickturns as much as he can to look Wally in the eyes. “It’s over. I’m in the clear,baby, you can-”

“Dick.” Wallyshakes his head, clamping his lips together for a second. “Just… let it go,okay?”

“Walls…”

“I’m nevergonna stop worrying. Okay?” He sighs. “It’s just… I know you’re not fragile,but… it’s…”

Dick purseshis lips, then nods. “I know.”

Wally letsout a deep breath, pressing his lips to Dick’s temple. “You scared the crapoutta me.”

Dick biteshis lip. “I’m sorry.”

“No, it’snot your fault.” His hand grazes over Dick’s side absentmindedly, fingeringgently at edge of the gauze. “I just… I can’t help it. You’re so human.”

“You aretoo.”

“I canheal a broken bone in hours.”

Dicksmirks. “I can do that too… in a few months.”

Wally chuckles,shaking his head again. “Just… let me worry. Please?”

“Alright…”Dick agrees, then prods him sharply in the chest. “But if I catch you lookingat me all forlorn, I’m gonna mess up this leg even more and kick your ass.”

Wally laughslouder this time. “No sappy gazing, got it.”

“And nowatching me sleep either, that’s weird.”

“You do itall the time!”

“Because you’repretty, not because you’re dying!”

“You arenot dying, don’t you dare.”

“I’m notallowed to die, now?!”

“Nope. Offlimits.”

Dick rollshis eyes, tilting his head back to lean it on Wally’s shoulder. “Neither areyou.”

“Immortal together?”

“Forever.”

Wally nudgeshis nose against the side of Dick’s head, then presses another kiss to histemple.

“Deal.”

#birdflash #dickwally #dick grayson #wally west #yj #young justice #drabble #short fic #thanks for the ask!! :D #mine

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andallwaswell-ish · 5 years

Text

Yours, Draco - day 11

Harry Potter left England after the war, the only people he had contact with in years are his best friends. Until Draco Malfoy writes him a letter…

advent fic - start at day 1 (you can find the links to all days there) or subscribe to AO3!

Dear Harry,

the first couple of days will be the strangest, I think. You will get used to the people.

Getting used to talking about what happened will take way longer. I’m still not really used to it, I don’t know if you can get used to it. But we’re working on it, right?

The way you write “There’s no going back now” sounds at the same time hopeful and devastated. I really hope it turns out good for you. I really hope you’re not leaving again. We only just got you back.

I think it will turn out perfectly fine. You will stay at Cloud Ocean’s for a few weeks or months our however long you need. Your friends will visit you. We will write. You will get better and you will start a normal, boring, ordinary life again. With no one trying to kill you or your friends and family. Just you, I don’t know, working in a bookshop or something. And you will come to pub nights and on Sundays you will eat with the Weasleys. You could play Quidditch with me and my co-workers on Wednesdays and visit Ron at WWW during your lunch breaks. One day you will have a girlfriend and therefore that endless supply of sex we were talking about. And you will go to Healer Anna every week because you will have good days and bad days and you will remember things you tried to forget before but in the end it will all turn out fine. Because that’s the past, and your future lies before you.

Hermione and Ron are so excited for you to be here, they couldn’t stop talking about anything except how it was to go and get you. How you hut looked like (sounds cozy, but lonely) and how happy they were when you had already packed and waited for them. They were afraid they would arrive and you would simply refuse to come with them or you’d just left.

Also Ron hugged me because he thinks that’s due to me. He never hugs me, it was weird but nice.

Hermione told me you hired Mrs Zabini's press officer. I’m glad about that! There’s nothing in the press yet but I think hell will break loose if they get word of you being back.

How is the chocolade pudding?

Yours, Draco

Hi Draco,

I was really expecting them to start with the really tough things. Like my parents, Voldemort or how I died. But I guess they’re afraid of me not being able to handle that yet.

We started with the easy things, like why I came back.

They asked me to write a list with things I need to process before I’d consider myself fine again. It’s gonna be a long list.

It’s been good so far here. My mind healer agreed to go on a walk with me during our sessions. I won’t join group therapy yet. People are too starstruck by me. We will start family therapy in a week or so.

That version of my future sounds good! Maybe they will let me work at Quidditch Supplies!

The chocolate pudding is amazing.

Harry

@thefangirlofdoom, @kick-it-in-the-ass-cas, @gnarf

#drarry #drarry squad #drarry advent #drarry fic #harry potter

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spellcastersjudgement · 6 years

Note

scoopshipping #20 😊

hm yes the second 5ds otp so now yall gonna see the other part of the 5ds world i’ve created in my head and it’s gonna be another headcanon dump with a side of hella feelings

#20: a kiss on a scar

Carly peeled herself off of the dining room chair, cursing the weather with every bead of sweat that ran down the back of her neck. It was the end of August, classes had just begun, and now the air conditioner had decided it wanted to break. Jack, who was usually an endearing level of insufferable, had now passed into flat out insufferable. Several loud phone calls later, hollering at the top of his lungs, sweating to death in the leather outfits he adamantly refused to take off because it’s what the fans want, Carly (even though they were at home where there were no fans), the HVAC company had agreed to come out–on Saturday. It was Thursday, and Carly was not looking forward to sweating through forty-eight hours with renowned duelist and diva Jack Atlas.

As she watched the water dispense into her cup, she thought about crawling into the freezer. Jack could lift her up, stuff her in there–she could probably fit if she dislocated a few joints, but it would be relief. Unfortunately, Jack wasn’t here to lift her up, and there wasn’t any light in the freezer for her to finish her assignment–what kind of professor gave homework during syllabus week?–so the table would have to do for now.

Shorts were supposed to make it easier to tolerate the heat, but as Carly sank back down into the chair and all she could think about was how if she were wearing leggings she wouldn’t be sticky. The laptop seemed to be a space heater, only adding to the discomfort, and as Carly put her glasses back on to stare at the video editor she thought of how Akiza would never be subject to the horrors of an overheated computer. This would be the one situation where she’d rather stare at books than look through a camera lens, and she texted her best friend as such.

Akiza responded after a moment, telling her to come down to Yusei’s shop and work with her, the air conditioning worked and she could come over afterward, Jack was welcome too.

That wouldn’t be a bad idea–the going to Akiza’s afterward. Going to the shop would end in a very unproductive evening, as when Jack and Yusei got together they did more arguing or running off to some corner of the garage to tinker with Yusei’s latest pet project. Either way no work got done and Jack would get a smudge on his shirt or get a pimple on his chin a couple days later and blame it on the impure air of the shop.

She texted Akiza asking if she and Jack could come crash in their living room tonight, thinking about the sweat sliding down her spine, making her shiver in disgust. Jack would be home any minute from training–or was today interviews? There was too much to keep track of in Jack Atlas’s schedule and Carly could only be bothered to remember his matches and tournaments so that she could attend and cheer for him.

Pushing sweaty bangs back with an equally sweaty hand, Carly thought about convincing–or well asking, because it’s not like Jack would need to be pushed–him to call the HVAC company back and demand that they come out today instead of Saturday. This was a hostile work environment, the phone nearly sliding out of her fingers as she sweat.

The sound of a motorcycle in the driveway made Carly stand up–bad idea, she thought as once again she felt her thighs peeling off the chair–walking over to the door, opening it to lean against the door frame.

Jack turned off the engine, pulling his helmet off and running his fingers through his choppy blonde hair, cheeks glistening with sweat–it looked like highlighter, like he’d carefully, artfully applied the sweat to his face to accentuate his cheekbones. Of course, he looked absolutely miserable as he swung his leg over the motorcycle, the tight pants barely allowing him to bend his legs enough to walk. Carly, who lived in leggings and oversized t-shirts, most of which she stole from Jack who wouldn’t be caught dead leaving the house in them, never understood her boyfriend’s need to be fully dressed and made up, especially in such horrible weather, but watching his clothes hug every bit of muscle as he walked toward the door made her thirsty, and not for water.

It was too hot to even think about that, ugh.

“Hey!” she tried to inject her usual energy into greeting him, but just lifting her arm to wave was exhausting, the humidity making everything heavier, harder.

He didn’t say anything, only towered over her, putting a gloved hand on her head to ruffle her hair, his standard greeting. Today she’d tied it back in a ponytail, leaving only her bangs free to move, which annoyed him–she could see by the slight narrowing of his lilac eyes, the downward quirk of his mouth. He was fond of her hair, had even helped her dye it last time–she could feel another rant about the stupid repairmen and how it was their fault she was wearing her hair up coming on.

“Shorts,”

Carly shut the door. “Oh yeah–unlike you I’m not interested in dying of heat stroke,”

“Hmph,” Jack set his helmet down on the dining table, next to her laptop, crinkling the edge of her notebook.

“Take your clothes off,” Carly followed him into the kitchen, reaching out her hand to tug on the back of his shirt.

“Aren’t you being bold today,” Jack quipped. “It’s too hot for that, Carly,”

Somehow her face managed to get hotter as she realized the innuendo. Jack opened the fridge, and from where she was standing behind him she could feel he blast of cold air, making her think of crawling in there and dragging Jack with her. “That’s not what I meant, you ass! Looking at you in long sleeves and pants–it’s making me sweat and I’m tired of looking at you in it,”

He popped open a can of that horrid sparkling water he so loved, turning back around, looking down his nose at her as he took a long sip. She looked up at him, crossing her arms over her chest. “Jack, come on–we’re going to Akiza and Yusei’s tonight, but for right now, please take that off,”

“If I didn’t have a headache, I would be throwing you over my shoulders,” Jack put down the can, stripping off his shirt without pretense, dropping it on the counter. “You picked a horribly inconvenient time to be so demanding,”

“I’ll remember that for when the house is at a normal temperature,” she laughed, even getting a small smile from her boyfriend that he tried to conceal behind another sip.

“When are we going over?” he asked, leaning against the counter.

“Um, uh–I guess when Akiza gets home,” Carly said.

Jack nodded, looking down, but not quite at her, something slightly to the left holding his attention. Carly looked to the right, expecting to see a mirage of a swimming pool or a bathtub full of ice–her head was certainly foggy enough to start hallucinating. There was, unfortunately, nothing but the air waving as light poured in from the kitchen window. Maybe Jack wasn’t looking at anything–he did say he had a headache.

“What’s that?”

Carly looked up at him. “What’s what?”

His hand landed on her shoulder, pulling the thin strap of her tank top down, his fingers tracing a thin, raised line that ran from her deltoid to her clavicle. His palm was searing against her skin as he rested it on her forearm, still rubbing the spot with his thumb.

“Oh, oh–in high school I played volleyball. I tore my rotator cuff and had to get surgery–never played again but I was the manager and worked with the coach and stuff. Got to take lots of pictures and go to all the games and write about them in the yearbook,” Carly explained, the fond memories bringing a smile to her face. “I thought I told you about it,”

“You did,” Jack said, crushing the can with his right hand and tossing it into the recycle bin, not even bothering to look, still staring at her scar. “I can’t believe I didn’t notice it before,”

“Hey, when I’ve got my shirt off in front of you it’s not like you’re looking at my shoulders,” she laughed. “It’s not a big deal, I mean, it’d disqualify me from military service since I have the full range of motion, but I’m not too beat up about it, y’know,”

Jack was silent, still stroking the scar with his thumb. Carly couldn’t figure out why he was so entranced, but she knew her boyfriend well enough to not interrupt him in his musings.

“Did it hurt?”

“The surgery? I mean the physical therapy was annoying but not too painful. If anything it was great because I got out of so many tests and stuff because I couldn’t use my dominant hand–oh, oh! And my mom finally bought me that tripod for my camera because I couldn’t hold it steady with my left hand, so actually, no I don’t think it was painful,” she answered. “I mean, that’s when I really started getting into photography and stuff, and–”

She stopped talking as Jack bent down, pressing his lips to the scar, bringing his right hand to rest on her other shoulder. His bangs tickled her neck, the heat radiating off of him adding to her discomfort but she was not going to move away–Jack was pulling back, looking down at her, eyes uncharacteristically soft, the slightest frown on his face.

“Jack?” she asked.

“I hate thinking about you hurting,” he whispered.

“Don’t worry,” she reached out to tug on one of the strands of hair that came down well past his pectorals. “It doesn’t hurt anymore, I promise,”

“Will you tell me if it does?” he asked.

She twirled the blonde strand around her index finger, smiling up at him. “Of course, Jack,”

His hand slid up her shoulder, her neck, laying on her face, and Carly thought she was going to faint from the affection in his eyes, the way it was making her blush, only adding to the heat in the room.

“Come on, let’s go,” Jack broke the moment by picking her up without warning, his shoulder digging in to her ribs as she yelped, his hand resting on her backside, making her blush even more.

“Where? What are you doing?” she asked, kicking her legs as Jack started up the stairs. “Jack! I can walk!”

“My headache’s gone,” he said. “It’s hot, and after telling me to take my clothes off I want a shower. With you,”

Carly’s feet hit the bathroom floor. Jack was already stripping off his pants.

“Get in. We can’t show up to Yusei’s smelling like this, and I’m not interested in christening his couch,”

“That’s a lie, Jack,” Carly laughed.

He looked at her, thoughtful. “You’re right. I would love to see his face. You know what, Carly? Put your clothes back on,”

That wasn’t usually what he told her. “What?”

Jack looked up from where he was re-buttoning his pants, a devious grin. “We’re going to Yusei’s–we’re going to destroy his couch, then we’re going to steal all of his hot water,”

#2andahalfpotatoes #asks #scoopshipping #i loved this i love them #i love carly shes so fucking cute #i love how jack pretends not to have feelings but he's a fucking sap

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aces-to-apples · 6 years

Text

@norcumi Eeeee! No one’s ever sent in an ask for this meme! So:

[Aboard the Resolute, a hangar bay is in a flurry of motion as several different squadrons of troopers scramble to load up onto various gunships and starfighters.]

Caption: Why do we always get stuck with the shit missions?

“Shit mission”, in this case, meaning that they aren’t even being sent to the front lines, they’re sneaking past the enemy (as much as they can manage) and Fives just wants to kick some clanker ass.

[Shown: surroundings too dark for anything but vague shapes to be made out.]

Unknown voice, singing under its breath, to no particular tune: “We’re gonna kriffing die, we’re gonna kriffing die, I don’t know how we’re gonna go but we’re gonna kriffing die. And it’s all Echo’s fa-a-ault…”

Second voice, hissing: “If you don’t shut the kriff up you really are about to die!”

This is a post-Citadel AU in which Echo didn’t die because fuck David Filoni but he did get blown up and severely injured. This is only like his second or third mission after being let out of the medics’ sight and Fives isn’t coping very well. So he’s being a dickhead because that, my dears, is how real siblings deal with joint-trauma. By giving each other shit, stealing their stuff, and calling each other names.

[Twin flashlights click on, showing several troopers with blue trim making their way through a cramped hallway. The dank, crumbling walls imply the location is both abandoned and very, very old; the architecture is consistent with holos of pre-Ruusan Reformation Jedi temples.]

First voice, no longer singing: “Hey, Echo, just out of curiosity, why the fuck did you have to touch the one suspiciously clean wall decoration?”

Second voice: “Fives, I swear to god…!”

[The trooper leading the group spins around, helmet decal revealing them to be Captain Rex.]

Rex: “If you two don’t shut your karking mouths, I am going to—”

Fives and Echo, at the same time: “Yes, sir, understood, sir!”

The first paragraph of this description was added by a brother in the 327th with an interest in architecture. Fives wouldn’t know the difference between a pre-Ruusan Reformation Jedi temple and a temple built last year besides “one looks old as dirt”.

In regards to the shit-giving: look. Echo is tired, okay? He got blown up. He spent like two freaking months in mandatory convalescence. And only seven weeks of that was for actual healing and physio therapy. The other three were just him being told over and over again to “take it easy” by the Jedi healers. Shaak Ti herself told him that he wouldn’t be allowed back on the front a moment before the Jedi said he could. It was infuriating. You know who’s never taken a break in his life and wouldn’t know how to even begin? Literally every single brother in the army! And he finally gets back to his one surviving batchmate and what happens? Oh yeah, he takes a quick fucking breather while trying to make their way to General Kenobi’s last known position, grabs onto a weird-looking carving on the wall to hoist himself back up, and they all take a trip down a trapdoor. Fucking typical. He’d’ve preferred getting blown up permanently at this point.

And Rex? He just wants everyone to stop screwing around and to make sure his favorite Jedi isn’t fucking dead.

Why is everything in this family such a goddamn trial?

[A group of troopers wearing gold trim surround a stone dais in the middle crumbling, circular room with most of its ceiling missing. A small hexagonal gem resting on the dais pulsates deep green in the afternoon sunlight.

Off to the side, Generals Kenobi and Skywalker murmur to each other very seriously while casting anxious glances at the gem.]

Fives, yelling from behind the camera: “Hey, everybody, Echo got us all dumped into the dungeon! How did the battle that we were supposed to provide back-up for go?”

[The camera lurches forward and down, as if the carrier was shoved from behind. Fives lets out a startled yelp.]

IMPORTANT EDIT: "A group of troopers wearing gold trim surround a stone dais..."

I👏WILL👏DIE👏ON👏THIS👏HILL👏

The aforementioned “shit mission”, specifically, was to provide backup to the generals who had gone to Mumblecough in order to retrieve some kind of Force object that they knew Ventress was being sent after. Ventress was sent after the Force object because Dooku knew that the Jedi were being sent after it. Neither of them actually know what it’s supposed to do, but it feels… weird in the Force. It’s freaking Anakin out, bringing to mind the way his nightmares felt leading up to his mother’s murder. It’s freaking Obi-Wan out too, reminding him of a lot of shit he’d rather not think about; he’s just better at hiding it.

When Fives calls out Echo’s accident in front of the fucking Marshal Commander of the entire GAR, Echo loses it, kicks out the back of Fives’ knee, and punts him into the fucking ground. Asshole better stay down too if he knows what’s good for him. (Spoiler alert: he does not. That’s the most Echo-like that Echo has been since getting back to the 501st. Fives is gonna be insufferable.)

[Video begins zoomed in on General Kenobi mid-sentence, gesturing widely with an arm.]

General Kenobi: “—ll never figure out why the Separatists are so interested in this artifact if we don’t take it back with us and study it!”

General Skywalker, exasperated and without a single shred of self-awareness: “I just don’t think that’s a good idea, Master! We have no idea what it does and I don’t like the feel of it in the Force. It could be dangerous.”

Kenobi: “Anakin—”

Rex wrote Anakin’s description. He also adds “full of unrestrained scientific curiosity” about Obi-Wan, but Fives vetoed it because ~conjecture~.

Overall, what’s a 501st/212th team-up without Anakin and Obi-Wan arguing like a married couple and Obes sighing Anakin’s name like That?

[Video begins zoomed in on General Skywalker, red-faced and all of two inches away from General Kenobi. Given the much tenser body language of the two and their changed positions, the argument has likely been going for at least a couple minutes since the last video.]

General Skywalker: “—nd just because nothing bad happened last time doesn’t mean you should just go around picking up random Force-objects!”

General Kenobi, stroking his beard: “… Very well, Anakin, I see your point.”

Skywalker, throwing his hands up: “Thank you!”

[Camera zooms out. General Skywalker’s breathing begins to slow and he backs up several steps, evidently realizing how closely he’d been invading the other man’s space. He carefully brushes down the front of his tabards before turning to face Captain Rex.

The moment his back is turned, General Kenobi turns to the dais and strides purposefully towards it while Skywalker is distracted.]

Commander Cody, realizing General Kenobi’s intent: “Sir—”

[General Kenobi quickly but carefully picks the gem up from the dais. The room is filled with a blinding white light and a rush of ear-splitting static is heard.]

[A bright blue sky with two suns is seen through the crumbling remains of the ceiling.]

Fives, groaning from behind the camera: “Oh my sweet karking gods, what the hells was that?”

[Camera shudders and tilts as its holder gets to their feet. Reoriented, the mixed group of troopers is scrambling to regain their own feet, check in with each other, and examine the surroundings for danger.

Commander Cody is a singular beacon of stillness amongst the chaos, standing next to the dais and looking down at the prone figure wearing Jedi tunics.]

Commander Cody, voice strong and level, but with an odd note of strain: “General Skywalker, you may want to see this!”

Fives, emphatically: “Well, kriff me.”

Fives pls

[The holder of the camera quickly makes its way across the room over to Commander Cody and General Skywalker—both staring at the unconscious figure on the ground—apologizing to several other troopers as he pushes past them until he reaches his destination.]

Fives, even more emphatically: “Well, kriff me.”

[Camera zooms in on the unconscious face of General Kenobi, who is now clean-shaven and sporting a different set of tunics from before as well as a Padawan braid. He looks to be at least a decade and a half younger than before.]

ARC-Trooper Fives: just call him “Mr. Sensitive.”

Also, Houston, we have several problems.

#by apples #ask meme #adventures in writing this bullshit #the adventures of shiny!wan and the 501st #sw fic #star wars #the clone wars #answered ask #norcumi

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5hfanfiction · 6 years

Text

Before It All Began - Chapter 16

Your POV

I plop down on the couch, running a hand through my hair. “Hey babe, how was your day?” Lauren sits next to me, putting a hand on my thigh. She kisses my cheek, resting her head on my shoulder.

“I don’t know why they are making me go through this ridiculous training. They don’t even check up on my fitness once I start working.” I mumble, kicking of my boots and unbuttoning my jeans. I slide them down my legs, just trying to get comfortable.

“Hey! Don’t put your dirty boots on my new rug.” Lauren yells, slapping my shoulder. I smile, turning to my girlfriend. “What?”

“We’re officially a family. You’re like my wife now.” I smile, kissing Lauren gently.

“You’re just way too excited to be a family aren’t you?” Lauren laughs against my lips.

“I don’t think I’m too excited. I’m the right amount of excited.” I kiss her again and carry my boots over to the front door.

Lauren’s team is having me train with the Navy recruits for 7 months. They are giving me time off before the babies are born, as well as after. Then my actual work starts.

The rest of the girls will still be recording and doing interviews, Lauren may join them depending on how the babies and everything is going.

I put my dirty clothes in the hamper, and jump in the shower.

It’s only been about two weeks, but Lauren and I have kind of fallen into a routine. Lauren would go into the studio after I left around 9 am, and then would be home at 5ish. I left at 7 and came home at 7, so my day was a bit longer than Lauren’s.

Time wise, not struggle wise. Her bump was a bit bigger now, and I loved it more than ever. There were rumors spreading around the media about Lauren being pregnant, we had an interview with Ellen tomorrow to announce it and all of that fun stuff.

After I get out of the shower I brush my hair, throwing it up into a bun. I throw on a pair of boxers, a sports bra, and a t-shirt.

I walk into the kitchen, seeing Lauren putting grilled cheese and tomato soup on plates. I kiss her on the cheek, and carry the plates to the table. Lauren sits while I grab water, and sit across the table my gorgeous girlfriend.

Lauren and I had a cute dinner, then while I washed the dishes, Lauren setting up our show.

Recently we have been watching Handmaid’s Tale after work. It gives us an hour to completely relax and just spend time together.

I plop down next to Lauren putting my feet up and an arm around her. “Baby…” Lauren puts her lips real close to my ear, her hand on my ribs. This was her sexy voice. “Maybe we shouldn’t watch our show, nad head straight to the bed room."

I turn my head, connecting my lips with hers, pulling her onto my lap. "We do have to break in this couch.” I smile, Lauren rolling her eyes.

I flip her onto her back, settling between her legs. Lauren and I continue slow deep kisses before I remember something.

“You’re pregnant.” I mumble, pulling away. Lauren’s eyebrows furrow. “I can’t put my thing in there near the kids. That’s gross.”

Lauren laughs, rolling her eyes. “That’s not how it works. You won’t be anywhere near them.” She smiles, putting her hand on my nape and pulling me down to meet her lips.

“I’m gonna trust you. But if I hit them I’m out.” I smirk before sliding Lauren’s leggings down. I toss them across the room while Lauren pulls my boxers down so they’re around my knees.

She grabs my member, running her gorgeous hand along me while she kisses my neck.

I moan, holding my self up with one arm, pushing Lauren’s shoulder so she’ll lay down. I look up at her, and she nods. I slip my member into her warmth moaning loudly as I start pumping in and out slowly.

“Fuck, Lo. You feel so good.” I mumble against her lips, Lauren nodding rapidly. Her eyes were lightly shut and she was breathing deeply, both hands scratching my lower back.

“Baby, faster please.” She moans, grabbing her own tit. I start a faster pace, Lauren shaking her head. She pushes me off of her, then sits me on the couch, climbing on my lap riding me up and down at a pace I didn’t know was possible.

“Lo, I won’t be able to hold on much longer.” I groan, grabbing Lauren’s ass as she bounces up and down on me.

“I’m right there with you babe.” She reaches down rubbing her own clit vigoriously.

We climax at the same time, Lauren grabbing my head, and pulling it to her chest.

Lauren tries to climb off, but I hold her down because I’m way to sensative. “Not yet baby. I can’t yet, just stay right there for a bit."

My girlfriend laughs, connecting our lips in a gentle kiss. "I love you so much.” She smiles, laughing lightly.

“I’m so fat.” Lauren mumbles, tears forming in her eyes. She turns to the side in the mirror, pure sadness on her face.

“Hey, baby. Come on. Do not say that. You are not fat. You are carrying our children. Our children. The ones we made with our love for eachother. You are carrying our three children, and giving them a place to live before they’re strong enough to be out here.” I wrap my arms around her, holding her from behind as I put my cheek against hers. She wasn’t wearing anything on top, so I could put my hands right on her growing stomach. “You are the most gorgeous woman I have ever seen. There is nothing you could change about yourself that would make me think you were more beautiful."

Lauren turns around in my arms, interlocking her fingers behind my neck. "I love you more than I can put into words.” Lauren whispers against my lips.

I kiss her briefly before helping her get into the tub. I take off my clothes, sliding in behind her. I put my hands on her stomach, Lauren leaning back into my chest.

“5 months tomorrow.” I mumble, Lauren letting out a sigh. “That means we should probably start talking about names because the babies are due in a couple months."

"I think we should pick names once they’re born. That way we can see what they look like.” Lauren says before closing her eyes gently.

“All babies look the same. We should just make decisions because they’ll grow into their names.” I explain, Lauren humming quietly.

“I’m not trying to avoid htis topic, but give me your hand.” Lauren puts her hand on mine, putting it on her stomach. I feel a small push, practically screeching with excitement.

“It kicked. One of them kicked!” I yell, pulling Lauren closer. She’s laughing as she grabs my other hand. All three of them were kicking or punching or something, and I had tears in my eyes.

“I feel like they’re growing super fast.” I nod in agreement with Lauren kissing the back of her head lightly. Lauren lets out a deep breath before stepping out of the bath, wrapping herself in a towel.

Eventhough we had just had a happy moment, Lauren still had some sadness on her face. “Come on baby. Let’s get dressed and talk. We need to have a good conversation."

Lauren and I put on comfy clothes in silence before crawling into the bed. I pull her into me, not knowing exactly how to start the conversation.

"You really don’t like what you look like, do you?” I mumble, Lauren breaking down in my arms.

“I’m bloated and uncomforatble and am constantly eating and going to the bathroom. I’m disgusting but nobody will say anything because I’m pregnant. I’m so fucking gross and fat.” Lauren was sobbing into my shirt, holding me tightly.

I didn’t know what to say, so I just hugged her tighter and kissed her head. “I love you.” I mumble, genuinely not knowing what else to say.

Unfortunately, Lauren cried herself to sleep, the next morning I called a counselor, explaining that I wanted to get both Lauren and I individual therapists as well as a couples therapist.

Everything with our past, our present, and our future it was stressful as hell. Both of us could use someone to talk to, and help us honestly talk to eachother.

It could do nothing but help us. Lauren and I weren’t in a bad spot, our relationshp was good, the sex was better than ever, we didn’t have any issues. The only problem was communication. Lauren was feeling super bad about herself and wouldn’t talk to me about it.

When she did it was at the point wehre she was bawling and saying such awful things about herself that I didn’t know what to do.

I had finished my work with the trainees, so now Lauren and I were home together for the next six months.

We were sitting and eating breakfast, I was about to bring up the therapy thing to Lauren.

“So, Lo. I called a therapist group a couple blocks from here. I got us couples therapy and individual therapists so we can start talking to professionals about everything. Our situation is pretty stressful and I think it would be good to talk to professionals.” I explain, Lauren looking at me with furrowed eyebrows.

She doesn’t say anything. All she does is nod, looking back at her food. I didn’t want to push it, so I just cleared my plate, then went to the babies’ room and continued to put together cribs.

I was working continuously on all of the new furniture and things to put together.

After lunch I drove us to the office, checked us in, and sat next to Lauren. She hadn’t said a word since I explained all of this.

We were called in by Dr. Akerson, who was our couple couselor. We sat on the couch for an hour while I explained the history of our relationship and where we were right now with everything.

The second hour Dr. Akerson attempted to crack Lauren and get her to open up. She kept talking about her image of herself. It made me sad.

“So Lauren, what is something Y/n could do to help you, or something that is helpful when you’re feeling like this?” Dr. Akeson, focuses on Lauren as she thinks about her answer.

“I just need more laughter in the house if that makes sense? I feel like a lot of the conversations we have are super stressful and focused on the babies. We lost our relationship. I just want what we used to have back.”

A/n: Sorry for mistakes, I would love feedback, thanks for reading, hope you enjoyed.

#UPDATE #series #g!p #/you #family #humour #romance fluff #submission #Before It All Began

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