#4.4K

[collectivecloseness]

I just saw this concept somewhere and immediately thought of robin, so imagine it's a summer day and robin is wearing a tank top, but that's not the important part, she's wearing one of thos candy necklaces and you just go and start eating it, while she's wearing it, might I add you're "just friends" (just friends my ass) and robin is literally dying for very obvious reasons

Bestie you are so right for this, I immediately jumped into this one. The sapphic panic would set in immediately for her.

-Tastes So Sweet

Robin Buckley x reader

It was a super hot week this summer, so you guys had decided to drive a few hours out for the weekend. Well, Robin had. Robin thought a little road trip, a weekend away at the beach, would be great for the two of you! A great place for her to finally buckle up and tell you how she feels. Even if she didn’t actually end up saying it... She knew you liked girls too, so it shouldn’t be that hard! Except it was!! Ugh!!! Robin swore it as a fact that the sapphic curse was real. She could never tell if any of the times she thought you were pretty ‘close’, or flirting, or doing things that surpass the boundaries of friendship, were just you being a nice friend or actually trying to flirt with her! Robin wondered if the same thing was happening on your end. Any awkward attempts at being slightly flirty from her, she knew weren’t exactly big power moves. Maybe you really didn’t know that she was into you? But if you hadn’t picked it up, how was she supposed to tell you! And why did she have to make the first move!?

It’d been a good plan, although when she asked you, as you came to visit her in Family Video like you did nearly every day, Robin had no idea Steve was right behind her too. If she had, she wouldn’t have said it! But Steve was in earshot, and as Robin turned around, she’d eagerly invited him too, for fear of him feeling left out. Which was stupid, because Steve knew, in extensive detail, that Robin had a crush on you, it would’ve been fine! But Robin didn’t really mind once she’d gotten over realising it wouldn’t be a strictly romantic getaway. A weekend away at the beach, with her two best friends, and absolutely zero monsters, or customers, was something she was really looking forward to the rest of the week! And she still loves Steve, she was happy he was coming, she just definitely did not love him in the same way she loved you... Well, at least Steve could drive, and had a car! Honestly Robin hadn’t even thought about that when she invited you. So it all looked like it was coming up Robin!

Robin had told Steve how she thought this was the perfect time and place to finally make a move on you. Steve asked if she was going to make ‘an actual move’ which was slightly annoying, if not very true. What’re friends for? But Steve definitely did not get a moments peace, without Robin raving about how great the weekend would be. Especially because of you.

Although he wasn’t complaining, it made him happy to see Robin so happy. He knew you felt the same, he was so sure. He just wished you two would get on with it! Even if Robin couldn’t exactly ask every babe who came into the store out, like Steve could, he still offered if she needed any of his ‘natural charm and allure’ to be graced with for the weekend, since she was seemingly born lacking. But that just got him with even more tapes stacked in his arms.

Although Steve did give Robin the great idea of making it a three day weekend. Since both of them were owed a shift swap with two other employees, after they both caught them calling in sick to work, only to try and break in after hours to bone in the stock room. You already had the Friday free, so Steve could drive you all that morning! Robin loved having a mom of the group, not that she was gonna take him for granted, but it at least gave her less things to worry about. She’d already had to borrow Steve’s deodorant towards the end of the day, after planning the trip now you’d thankfully said yes. He liked being in charge and on top of things! He at least swore that he’d be a good wingman. Even though he was always, he really wanted you two together. But this time, he’d push his best friend just a little, if she needed it.

But after he’d driven you all a few hours to the motel, Steve started complaining that he didn’t feel well. He still insisted he could carry some of the bags, while Robin grabbed an extra of yours, smiling with a raise of her shoulders. But as Steve collapsed onto his bed in the motel, he started saying he felt sick.

You both wanted to make sure he was okay, Robin checking his forehead as you looked in Steve’s bag for painkillers for his headache. Since Steve had been very meticulous with packing for the 3 day trip, even micromanaging to make sure you two brought essentials. Even though you both knew Steve would have spares for you.

You managed to find a bucket while you were getting Steve some water in the bathroom, bringing it to his bedside where he was curled up, before taking a step back, into Robin’s side, as you asked with the most sympathetic tone you could muster if he felt like he was gonna be sick. Robin grabbed your arm, rubbing it up and down, with your exposed skin since it was so hot outside, and you gave her a thankful look. She knew you hated vomit.

But Steve swore he was fine. Even as you and Robin rubbed his back, he said he was just gonna take a nap. Rest in for the rest of the day, and maybe he could join you two for dinner. But he encouraged you both to go out and have fun. At least it was a good thing you guys had three days.

Robin agreed with you to stay for an extra 15 minutes, just to see if the painkillers kicked in, which you both knew Steve would probably bluff about to stop you both from worrying, even if they didn’t. But as Steve curled up to his new blanket, his eyebrows scrunched up, either in a ‘bleh’ feeling, or simply being tired, Robin shook your wrist gently and asked if you wanted to head out.

Steve still managed to mumble yell about you both taking sunscreen, and you both chuckled as Robin stole some from his bag.

You both tucked him in, Robin fake cooing over the poor baby, as you both left with a sickly sweet “Bye Steve!” But gave him some pats before that, to let him know you meant it.

As you closed the motel door behind you, you both looked to each other and just giggled. Before you took Robin’s hand, and dragged her to the reception desk to go grab a map. Steve clearly must’ve been sick, if he’d forgotten to grab one of them.

Although, Robin didn’t actually know if Steve was faking or not. To let you two have the majority of the day together or something. To be fair, he looked like he really needed that nap either way. And you both would have had to leave him to the room if he napped anyway, since you were all sharing a room together, because it was cheaper. Steve got one bed, and you and Robin shared the other. A fact she was internally freaking at. She’d had sleepovers with you before, but nothing this intimate. Nothing like on this three day getaway. Even if you two were just nearly dozing off accidentally while watching a movie or something, Robin knew you got very cuddly when you were tired. So did she, but it still made her bashful.

You two had visited some of the local stores, before taking a long walk on the beach. Robin had laughed with you, talked about old memories, even shared gossip, but she hadn’t told you her feelings for you yet. To be honest she’d forgotten! Robin was too busy having fun with you, really enjoying her time. She’d forgotten she was supposed to be building up to asking you out by the end of the weekend.

It hadn’t really been that long a walk anyway, because you were desperately complaining of your need for food. So you’d both been trying to find an exit to the beach, that’d lead you back to civilisation. You were on your way to an ice cream stand Robin had spotted, near enough you could tell it sold ice cream by the small statue on top, but not nearly close enough to make out any words on it yet.

But you’d gotten tired, and asked Robin to sit with you for a few minutes. Robin had helped you sit down, worrying you and Steve were actually sick, but you’d just giggled when Robin held your elbow, gently leading you onto the sand at the top of the beach, easily sitting yourself down as you told her “You’re sweet.” Something that did not go over Robin’s head, while you rummaged to get her water bottle out her bag, that you two were sharing. Like usual, because of course you still forgot to pack water for a day out in the sun. Damn Steve for forgetting to mom them on that one, Robin thought.

As she watched you chug at her bottle, Robin was tempted to buy you a drink herself, to be your knight in shining armour that way. ...But, she also kinda liked the domesticity of you two sharing of bottle. Not even in an ‘ooh it’s an indirect kiss way’, although heck yeah she couldn’t help but think about it, it was just sweet to share like that, she thought.

“Ughhhhh. Robbbb, I’m hungry.” You whined, leaning on her chest dramatically. You were both in swimsuits, but with shorts, and low cut tops too. Meaning your head was nowhere near the top of her shirt, as you laid on her.

Robin laughed. “Well I told you, if we went down the boardwalk they had those cute little cafes! But nooo. You-“ Robin flicked her finger against your nose “wanted to go rockpooling first!” Robin couldn’t help but smile the entire time she talked with you. She could never actually be mad at you, she only ever teased you in jest.

You pouted, but your eyes were smiling back. “I only wanted to cause I know you’ve been waiting to all week.”

Robin’s ears started burning. She rubbed her hands on her exposed knees, trying to bite back a smile that’d be too wide. “Thank you.” It made a fire stir in Robins chest that you’d remembered she’d been wanting to do that since you guys planned the trip. She hadn’t been rockpooling since she was a kid, and she wanted to explore them again. Robin also wanted to come back to Hawkins with pockets full of neat rocks, although that was a separate mission.

“Well, the ice cream stand isn’t that far away. We can make it when your legs decide to start working again.” Robin promised, second guessing herself, but deciding to pat your shoulder anyway. It shouldn’t be weird, she’s done that a million times. She’s touched you way more that that! Yeah she was touching your naked shoulder and bikini strap only, since the strap of your flowy shirt had sunk a little... but really it wasn’t that weird, among friends right? You were both girls. You both had bra and bikini straps! Surely you wouldn’t think anything of it, that she touched them? She was just patting your shoulder! Although the whole point of this weekend was supposed to be that you thought about Robin’s actions more, that they were slightly risqué and that Robin actually makes a move!

You hummed, hungry. And then, you looked up a little bit, to see the cute new thing Robin had bought earlier. With a different type of hum this time, you reached up Robin’s chest, and played with her colourful candy accessory. “Your necklace is so pretty Robin.”

Now it was Robin’s whole face that was blushing. She just hoped you couldn’t feel the heat through her chest. “Thank you.” She responded, remembering how you’d tugged on it when Robin first came out of the seaside sweet shop, and how her legs nearly gave out with all the carnal thoughts that ran through her mind when you did that.

She’d also bought a pacifier lolly for poor Steve, and you’d bought a sweet in the shape of a spade. Which’d been all you’d eaten all day, with Steve ushering you to his car since you’d slept in.

Only a few seconds after she’d thanked you, Robin looked on in stupor, as you aimed forward, and chomped down on her. She felt the scrape of your teeth pulling at her necklace, and even more so, your lips, below her collarbone but just above her cleavage. And in a panic, Robin shoved her hand into her chest, blinking in shock as she tried to take in what’d just happened, and how the feeling of your mouth on her chest still lingered. “Errr, what’re you doing?”

You only looked at Robin like what you were doing was normal, and like she was being unreasonable. It was really confusing Robin’s already flustered thoughts.

“What? I told you I was hungry.” You reasoned, before a sigh that blew away a few strands of your cute hair gained Robin’s attention, but not more so than what you did next. “Pleeeeease? I’m dying here!” You collapsed dramtically into Robin’s lap.

Robin laughed, a little, as she tried to push down her feelings of you laying on her there. You’ve rested your head there before, of fucking course, you guys were good friends, but it was different right now. Especially as you wriggled around a little, cradling the side of Robin’s hips to do so, and you looked up at her, with those puppy eyes. “Please?” You begged again. And Robin was dying with you peering way up at her like that from below.

Robin was bowled over, and all she could do was watch, as you seemingly tested your limits, climbing up her gently, moving onto her lap, as you moved your mouth to another piece of her necklace. Robin held her breath as you, while keeping eye contact with her, slowly mouthed around a piece near her neck, picking at it. “-taste so sweet...” you mumbled against her skin, with the candy in your mouth. But Robin could not tell if you said ‘they’ or ‘she’ tastes so sweet... If Robin was pink before, now she was entirely red.

“Y-Yeah. Okay then.”

When you smiled against her chest like that, Robin felt like she could breathe again, even though it came out sharp through her closed off mouth.

She could see it moving your hair. Although she didn’t know that secretly, you actually thought her breath smelt really nice right now too.

You didn’t thank her out loud. Instead, you thanked her with a kiss to her cheek.

Robin didn’t know how she held down her squeal at that. She didn’t think she consciously stopped herself anyway. Maybe she was just too overwhelmed. But then you bent down again, scanning her neck, and her chest, something that made Robin feel like a piece of meat. And for the only time in her life, when being looked at that way... she liked it. She never knew she would like that look, but you looking at her in that way... fuck...

You placed your hands on either side of her ribs. Holding her gently. Like she was precious. And then one hand slipped down to cradle the curve of her waist, as you finally went at it. Eating the sweet candy.

Robin pressed her legs together. Squeezing them. She hoped you couldn’t tell, since you were still sitting in her lap. And she felt almost dirty for even feeling that way. But she couldn’t help it. Not when you were holding her like this... not when your breath, and lips, and teeth, and drool, and tongue were at her neck, and her chest. Thank god she picked the longer necklace. She had to squeeze her legs together or she thought she was going to burst. Excitement rushed through her body, making her feel even more sensitive than she already was.

You picked up one piece of candy delicately, and slowly, scooping it up with your tongue, against her skin. Robin thought she might actually faint. At least she could blame it on the sun. Not the way a moan nearly slipped out her lips though. That was something Robin was thinking real hard about. Biting her lips intently as she just stared down at you, almost pained with holding back.

As a sound left her neck like you were sucking on the skin there, as well as the pink treat, you peered up at Robin again. “Will you rub sun cream into me after this? On my back, and shoulders, all those nasty places I can’t reach.”

She didn’t mean nasty places like that, don’t be a freak Robin!!!

“Yeah...” Robin promised, although she had to swallow first. Holy shit!

Mentioning Robin touching you though, made her react, because now, Robin really felt the want to touch you. The idea had been planted in her mind and it would not move on. She raised her hand, with a shaky breath she was sure was moving your head, as your cheek was lightly resting against it, while she moved her ringed hand, and softly began stroking through your hair. Caressing your head, and your soft locks, as you kept at Robin’s upper torso.

You, sucking around Robin’s chest, as she nestles her hand over the back of your head, must’ve looked so intimate, Robin thought. Only to shake that thought away, finding it going to some very unchaste places. When in reality, Robin was happy just like this. With stroking your hair.

For a few peaceful seconds both of you were only looking out at the golden beach. Glancing with no thought, at the far off horizon, the sea line crashing into the shore.

Then you placed your hand on Robin’s thigh, and you leaned your chin against her actual chest. And all that tranquility was thrown out the window. Robin still stroked her hand through your hair, but she felt like she was about to explode now. Holy shit, how do you not realise what you do to her? How is it fair to have you like this, only for her to be too scared to tell you, and possibly never be able to actually have you in that official way? Robin desperately wants nothing more than to touch you right now, even though she is already touching you. She wants to kiss you! She thinks about it. Quite hard, as she watches your lips go, against her chest. She wants to touch your own thigh. Just to be able to place her hand on your leg, as you two sit together, and have it be just normal for you two! She wants to be able to hug you close as you lay against her like this, to be able to kiss your head, and for you to feel happy enough to snuggle into her chest, as she speaks softly to you. Loving words. To be able to swap positions, and have you hold her like she’s your everything... And your hand squeezes once more over her thigh as she feels slight dampness against her chest, and she’s set off into those instinctual and physical feelings again. She’s surprised you can’t hear her heartbeat hammering against her rib cage, as you’re laying against her.

Although maybe you can. Or maybe she’s just acting weird. Because that’s apparently why your chin is on her chest and your hand is holding her thigh more securely, as you look up at her with gentle eyes. “Is something wrong? Are you okay?”

You’re asking her so affectionately, and Robin can’t help but stare at your lips. They’re glistening, with the effort you’ve been putting in all this time. And Robin really wants to taste your lips. To taste just how sweet they are right now.

“Nope. Nothing’s wrong. I’m really good.” She promises, unsure how she sounds so cool. Probably from years of lying about her feelings. Something she hardly ever did with you, except for her primary one.

You seem to pick up on something though, because you shuffle more into a sitting position, much to Robin’s dismay, but you still stay on her lap, which she sees as a win. Circling her arms around your own lap, as she holds you.

“Well here, have some. I don’t wanna steal all of it.” You smiled, playing with Robin’s half eaten necklace, as you extended the invitation.

It also meant Robin had to pick up the necklace to eat some of it, instead of having you grazing lightly into her skin the entire time, but Robin didn’t really mind it. She ate a few beads of her treat, enjoying the sweet taste, and realising how you got so addicted into just zoning out and sucking- oh my god Robin stop thinking of that shit!- but another thought was swimming around the brain cell she’d managed to borrow from Steve now he was unconscious. One she was thinking about the entire time you both gnawed on the same piece of string, faces inches away. Until it finally just blurted out of her like word vomit, only half being able to come out as a flirty joke.

“Hey! Uhhh, you know! You know what- you know Lady and the Tramp? This, wel-uhmm, this kinda reminds me. Of that. Do you know?” Robin stammered over that statement/question.

You didn’t respond. Robin gulping, which you would’ve been able to hear from this distance. But instead, you sped up on the three beads that were in your way. And, with a nervous pace, and no thoughts, Robin ate the last one on her side. Only able to sit there and breathe, in anxious shock, until you finally made your way closer, and, after eating the final bead that was pressed against Robin’s lips, you kissed her.

Gently dipping yourself into her mouth, you took Robin’s lips into your own. And Robin’s nerves were quickly replaced by a love she’d needed for so long. Eyes slipping shut as she took in this moment fully, at what she’d been waiting and longing for, Robin quickly kissed you back. The kiss was nothing but even, and deep, and full of love.

She moved her lips against your own, the thick feeling of your lips making Robin feel full, as she moved from hanging onto your bottom lip, to brushing your top one. You tasted just like she dreamed. Robin kissed you back with the same paced ardour as you both moved around. The smallest kissing sound coming as you both barely moved your lips away, only escaping as you moved around. Robin takes your cheek in her hand, as she’s wanted to do for so long, the other picking up your hand that she finds even blind, to hold it. Rubbing it, feeling you, as your other hand goes to her neck. Your thumb rubs Robin’s jaw, and she sighs into your kiss. That sound, finally causing her lips to stutter. And she opens her eyes as you two only just pull your lips away.

Robin’s eyes brush up and down your face. Her hand shuffling to hold your cheek more, nervous but knowing you weren’t going to move away, wanting to hold you like she’d wanted for so long. You raised your held hand to Robin’s own cheek, caressing her warm skin as you kept her hand with your own, and watched as Robin’s eyes fluttered shut, leaning cravingly into your palm, eyes open as she searched yours. Finding that hooded and finally resolved look in them.

Robin always fantasised what her first words would be after she kissed you. But she should’ve known she’d never have been able to be that cool after. “I... I’ve wanted to... I mean, do you- do you feel the same way? I’ve wanted to do that for so long.” She asked, eyes crinkling with tears she dared herself not to come. She didn’t know if she could handle it if you didn’t feel the same way. Not after this. If she’d just thrown herself out there, only to get rejected now.

Only Robin was met with your hands cradling her face so lovingly, so... domestically, that she couldn’t help but sigh against your face. “Robin. I’ve been flirting with you since the day we met. Did you really not notice?”

Robin didn’t know whether to smile or cry. She was afraid she’d do both. Although she didn’t think the snot and sweat combination would do great for her second kiss. “But- I’ve been flirting with you too! I mean, well... I’ve been trying.” Robin’s head bowed down, her freckled cheeks heated. “I thought- I just thought you didn’t...”

“Robin, sweetheart.” You gently lifted her head up, and any shame Robin felt dissipated at hearing you call her that. Her blue eyes watery as she searched yours.

“I get it. I wasn’t sure too... But I could never not love you. I mean... how would that even be possible!” You cracked a smile, trying to make it big, although you felt your eyes stinging now too. Especially when Robin laughed, and a few tears finally spilled down her rosy cheeks. You just thought she looked so beautiful.

“Damn that sapphic curse.” Robin joked, wiping her tears with the back of her hand, only to feel her heart thud in shock when you suddenly leaned forward, and kissed that tear stain right off her cheek. Although she gussed she shouldn’t be shocked by it anymore. ...The thought made her smile even greater.

“Damn right. How could you think I’d want to be any less than your girlfriend? What a ridiculous thought. Glad we broke that damn curse.”

And this time, Robin wasn’t going to be caught rambling. She did the thing she’d planned to do this entire weekend, that she’d wanted to do the first time you walked into her store. She made that big definite move, as Robin pulled your cheeks close, and kissed you first.

[sh1-n0bu]

"love can make you do stupid things" no. you know what can make people do stupid things? horny.

horny can make people start a tumblr blog that was meant for only reblogging. horny can make people start writing when they know they have no artistic knowledge or even that much of a words in your second language vocabulary. horny can make people about to celebrate and make an event of their 5k followers a year after starting their little blog.

it's the power of the horny you dense fuckers. not love

[razzzletazzle]

title: Jacob's Ladder (read on ao3)

rating: G

summary: Digging for scraps in order to survive another barren winter, the boys find something far more precious than a space heater. The baby they pick up might not keep them warm, but he gives them something far more important: a reason to fight for the future.

inspired by this amazing art by @tapakah0 !

Dawn crawled into morning, sun peeking over the horizon, shining pale light on the razed town. Mounts of piled destruction littered the broken streets, heaping around the cracked and folded-together asphalt. Homes stood here, once, but now only skeletons remained, a glimpse of a simpler past found in the bright pink bike handle peeking out from under fallen walls, its purple glitter tassel rustling in a barely-there breeze.

Leo dug his hands deeper into the pile of debris he was sitting on. Sharp edges threatened to nick his hands, but he ignored the almost painful scrape against his scales.

Winter was almost at their doorstep, Autumn rolling further into dark, further into cold. Barely any snow fell anymore, but the nights and days had gotten more cutting, the cold had grown sharper teeth. If they wanted to make it through the coming season, they needed supplies. Clothes, blankets, machinery that Donnie could fix up or use to make new, better ones. Anything that would keep them alive and, if they were lucky, somewhat comfortable.

Rays of sun filtered from behind wispy clouds, finally finding him and his brothers. They brought him no warmth.

Leo tossed a broken phone – snapped clean in two and hanging on by force of will alone, the top and bottom parts crushed up almost past the point of being recognizable – over his shoulder. It clattered down the hill and onto the street below, where it either lay still, flat at the bottom of the pile, or disappeared into one of the giant cracks in the road. The noise echoed, only for a moment, and then all was quiet again, the only sound the scraping of concrete as their two strongest moved giant slabs out of the way, and the grind of small stones, wood, and whatever else was buried in the pile where he and Donnie were digging for scraps.

It was dull – almost oppressive, the silence that clung to his family. To himself, too, now, far too often. Sure, they still laughed, they still found comfort in each other, they were still there, but it was almost like they were muted, and Leo's fingers itched to turn the brightness back up. The need to speak, to fill the unbearable quiet, bubbled in his chest and clawed up his throat.  Sometimes Leo ignored it, this pressing urge, swallowed it back and pushed it down, hoping it would settle and ease. But sometimes he couldn't suppress it, the sight and lack of sound too heavy to endure.

A laugh, at the very least, would sound heavenly right now.

So he sighed, and he groaned, drawn-out and grossly exaggerated, and tossed his head onto his shoulder to look at Donnie, working diligently next to him. Leo's arms were still buried, half-way up to his elbows, in the debris.

"There's nothing but junk here."

He might've counted the familiar pull of Donnie's scowl as his first, small step towards victory, if Donnie's tone wasn't so tight.

"Of course it's all junk." Leo twitched at the edge that sharpened the words. "But it's your job to find the parts that aren't total scrap and give them to me so I can decide whether it's usable or not."

"I've done this before, you know," Leo muttered, and saw Donnie's scowl deepen out of the corner of his eyes. "I'm just saying, we've been at this for thirty minutes and we've found zilch."

There was a comment curling around Donnie's lips, Leo could tell, a rough dismissal, saying Leo just wasn't looking hard enough, then. Donnie probably found some useful things already. Instead, he said: "You have no sense of time. It's been ten minutes, at best."

"Says Mr. Hyper-focus," Leo said under his breath. He pulled at something stuck tight in the pile, wiggled it, and yanked it loose. He briefly lost his balance, rocking back on his heels, and managed to not tumble down. He looked at the piece in his hand.

More junk.

He tossed it over his shoulder.

Okay, new plan. Gauge how annoyed Donnie was exactly and how far he could push this, or if he shouldn't push anything at all, and if he should let the heavy shroud of silence settle back over them.

"Donnie," Leo whined, and watched keenly as his brother rolled his eyes. Alright, not a bad sign. Meant Donnie was in a poor mood, but not a leave me alone or I'll vaporize you mood. More an I need some TLC so I'd like my darling twin to annoy me mood. Sure, Donnie would never put it in those exact terms, but Leo was a verified Donnie-connoisseur, and he knew exactly what his brother needed.

Leo put his hands up and presented them to his still-working brother. They were dark with grime. "My fingers hurt," he announced with a pout.

"Tragic," Donnie said and dug further into the pile. "What do you want me to do about it?"

"Kiss it better?"

Disgust curled at Donnie's snout and Leo fought not to grin. "I'm not going anywhere near those dirty paws of yours."

Mischievously, Leo wiggled his fingers and cooed: "Awww, but Donnie, they hurt! You wouldn't leave your only twin to suffer!"

He lunged, shoving his hands into Donnie's face, relishing the shriek he drew from his twin.

Donnie spluttered, pulling away sharply and trying, futilely, to keep Leo at arm’s length. He bared his teeth, fangs glinting, and snapped at Leo's squirming fingers straying too close to his mouth.

"So mean, Don-Don!" Leo whined around a laugh.

"If you don't get your hands – off! I'll happily be an only twin in two minutes!"

"Awww, that's so sweet of you to say! You think I'd hold out against your arsenal for two whole minutes!"

"Make that ten seconds. Nine. Eight. Seven – "

"Donnie," Raph's voice came, tired but still fond, from a little way behind them. "Don't threaten Leo with fratricide."

"Then he shouldn't– !" Donnie made another attempt to bite off Leo's wriggling fingers. "Tell him to stop! And that he needs a bath." To Leo, he said with a glower: "You stink worse than the sewers."

"Like you're any better, hermano."

"We all need a bath," Raph said as he picked both of them up by the scruff of their shirt and hung them in the air like particularly naughty kittens. "Both of you stink to high heaven, but you don't hear me complaining. So quit squabbling and get back to digging."

Donnie made a noise of protest. "I was working just fine before Leo–!"

Raph shook him once, jostling him and pulling his shirt just so that his arms hiked up, and gave him a look. Donnie acquiesced with a grumble and a stubborn, but meaningless, attempt at crossing his arms, succeeding only in crossing his wrists and accidentally framing his face. Leo muffled a snort.

Satisfied, Raph placed them gently back down. With his feet back on somewhat solid ground, even if it was rocky and precariously uneven in places, Leo looked at Raph. Scars lined up his arms, and there was a particularly gnarly scar covered by his mask where he lost his eye to a Kraang attack that haunted Leo's waking dreams. On instinct, Leo breathed in, but no scent greeted him. Raph had learned, by force of necessity, to keep his scent under control, to the point Leo couldn't smell him at all anymore. He wished he hadn't teased Raph for it when they were younger. It was another small comfort he often found himself missing.

"Found anything yet?" Leo asked. A small frown tugged Raph's lips down and his gaze became troubled, and Leo wished he could take the question back.

"Nothing," Raph said. "Looks like some other survivors passed by here before us, probably took whatever useful stuff that was still around with them."

Leo sighed. “Yeah, figured as much."

"Not everything's been taken," Donnie cut in. "I found a few scrap pieces and wires that'll help me create a heater. I need a few more pieces before I can build it, but we'll get there."

Worry hung heavily off Raph's shoulders, even though he tried to keep them up. He might've gotten a handle on his scent, but he still wore his emotions like a comfortable vest, like pages of a book written in large font, an inextricable part of him laid out so openly for them. Leo didn't think he could ever do the same, and he didn't know whether he envied Raph for it or not.

But worry wasn't Raph's burden to bear on his own, not anymore.

Leo patted Raph's arm and mustered up an easy smile. "We'll be fine, big bro. Trust me."

"Yeah..." Raph sighed. "Yeah, I s'ppose. We always are."

Leo wasn't sure why the easy trust made his chest feel so tight.

"Course we are," he said instead. "So stop worrying that big head of yours, m'okay?"

"My head's not big."

"Raph, big brother, your head's massive, 'cause it keeps growing along with that giant body of yours. You're huge, accept it."

"That's a really interesting way of asking for shell rides, Leo," Donnie said, smirking, because he knew exactly which secret he just laid out in the open. Leo gasped; Betrayed by his own kin, and Donnie had the gall to stand there and look smug.

Raph looked at Leo with big, soft eyes. "You want shell rides?"

"What – no! I mean, yes. No!"

"Awww, buddy," Raph cooed, and the worst part about it was that his brother really meant the almost-aggravatingly sweet tone. "If you wanted shell rides, you should've just asked! C'mere – "

"Raph, wait, no – "

A loud crash from behind them – where their little brother was still working through the pile – had them instantly on high alert, weapons one swift movement away from being drawn as they spun, quick and practiced, ready to tackle any possible danger.

An ugly, chipped mug was raised high above Mikey's head. The gaudy thing was decorated with a round, yellow smiley face in its center, orange and green 80's flowers circling the body. They were scratched to hell and back, but still mostly recognizable. Mikey's grin was blinding.

"Donnie!" he hollered. "Bring out the Poppins bag! I'm taking this baby with me!"

Tension bled out of them in one collective sigh.

"It's called – whatever. You guys will never get it right."

The relieved slant of Donnie's shoulders betrayed his nonchalant tone. He took a small pouch out of his pocket and opened it, tugging at its edges to make it big enough to put the mug in.

"Don't mix it with the clean items," Donnie instructed as Mikey bounded up to them.

"Don, if you want him to do that, you gotta upgrade that non-existent sorting system," Leo said. "Just make sure it's at the top or something."

"You have no idea how difficult it is to create a contained, portable pocket dimension meant for storage, nevermind to create any form of system within such a space."

"Right, yeah, explain that to me again some other time."

Donnie huffed and rolled his eyes. The bag was a project both he and Mikey had worked a long time on, combining both their ninpo into creating a storage space that could hold almost anything. It wasn't endless, but they hadn't reached its end yet, and it'd saved them from a pinch more than once.

Mikey proudly presented his new mug to them. It was even uglier up close.

"Look at it and weep!"

Leo wanted to weep alright, but not as much as Donnie, by the scrunched look on his face.

"It's a cool mug, Mikey," Raph said.

"Right? If I clean it up a lil', it'll be as good as new!"

"I'm boiling it at least five times, I hope you know." Donnie held out the bag.

"Of course! Man, this is so cool, that's the best find I've had in ages! You guys must be so jealous right now–"

A noise, nothing but the smallest rattle, faint but there, drew Leo's attention. He turned to find its source, tuned out his brothers, eyes sweeping across the destruction, a quick survey of the area, but he found nothing.

Another sound, less a rattle and more something alive. Leo straightened his back, standing to full attention, and brought up his fist as he clicked once, quick and sharp. His brothers hushed at once. He moved, trusting his brothers to follow and cover his back.

Donnie scanned the perimeter before they entered the area, but it wouldn't be the first time one of those pink monsters managed to evade the scanners somehow. He'd upgraded them, and upgraded them again, until they had almost no fault, but they'd grown to be careful – couldn't be careful enough – unlike their days in youth where hubris colored their every action. Before the world went to waste and everything they knew disappeared. They'd lost almost everyone. They couldn't bear to lose each other, too.

A piece of rounded concrete stuck out between the pile of wreckage across from them, and another small noise echoed out. A tunnel, then, of sorts, whatever the concrete had once been had made a passageway under the debris. And something was in there.

Leo motioned to it, then twirled his finger, signaled his brothers to spread out and circle the entrance. They assumed their positions without protest, without question, silent and swift. Raph remained at Leo's back.

A roofing sheet covered most of the entrance. Leo counted down from three to zero with his fingers, hand in the air, and lifted the sheet with his sword, but the movement must've displaced something, because a moment later it came tumbling down with a loud clatter, stone and metal grinding their way down.

He tensed, but whatever was inside the tube – and he could clearly see it was one now, reminding him somewhat of the sewer tubes of his childhood – didn't startle and attack. But another noise came, clearly now, and Leo froze. It sounded like a cough. A very tiny cough. And a gurgle. It sounded like –

Leo ducked, without thinking, and climbed into the tunnel.

Black guck covered the bottom. It smelled rancid, pungent in a rotting way. His hands and knees sank into the wet mass. He sucked in a breath and held it, hoping the stench would leave his nose if he didn't breathe for long enough.

He ignored Raph's startled and concerned "Leo?!" and crawled further. He trudged through the sludge, trying not to gag at the slimy feel. Pieces of metal stuck through the roof of the tunnel, but Leo found himself lucky enough to not have to duck under them far enough to end belly-down in the gunk.

The baby looked up at him when he came to a stop close by. His cheeks weren’t nearly as chubby as they should be, and his hair was matted and greasy, clinging to his scalp. Only a ratty blanket covered him, flimsily at best. Something dark and unpleasant mixed with the black guck, and Leo didn't need to see the dried blood on the kid's arm to know what it was.

He looked past the baby, further down the tunnel, and saw a man. His arm was outstretched, reaching towards the kid, face turned towards them. A giant puncture hole was clear as day on his back, as repulsive as it was familiar.

Dead.

He must've died protecting his baby.

"How long've you been here, little guy?" Leo muttered, and regretted it immediately, a fresh wave of rot bombarding his senses. He coughed, covering his mouth and nose with the back of his hand.

"Alright," he said, strained. "You're coming with me."

He wiped his hand on his thigh, clearing most of the gunk from it, even if the baby was dirty enough that another layer wouldn't matter that much, and gingerly touched him. The baby grabbed at his fingers immediately, like a homing missile seeking warmth, sudden enough to startle Leo. He gurgled, big, doe eyes staring wetly up at Leo.

"Yeah, yeah," Leo mumbled, soft. "No need to look at me like that, I'm not leaving you here."

He unwrapped his scarf after wiping off his other hand, and fashioned it into a sling, knot tied atop his shoulder. He picked the baby up and murmured softly to him when he whined.

“I know, kiddo. Just a bit longer.”

The baby fit snugly into the sling, covered from head to toe by the scarf. The baby made a noise and curled his tiny fingers into Leo’s shirt, cuddling closer against him and burying further into the sling. He’d been out in the cold for a long time, it was nothing short of a miracle that the kid didn’t have hypothermia. Leo attempted to cradle him closer.

"Sorry, this'll be a bumpy ride. Hang tight, okay?"

Leo spared another glance at the man. It didn't feel right to leave him here to rot, after he gave his life to protect his child, but there was no other choice. Even if they dragged him out, there was no place to bury him, and no time to spare on it. Not with recent Kraang activity painted in the decay of his body. Leo closed his eyes, paid him respect the only way he still could, honoring the man's sacrifice.

His brothers called his name, their voices thin and sharp as they echoed through the tunnel and beat against his eardrums, their worry thick. Leo turned, and didn't look back.

Leo gulped in fresh air greedily the moment he tumbled out of the tunnel. He coughed, attempting to banish the foul smell out of his lung, while his arms curled around the baby.

"Leo," Raph rumbled, upset clinging to his words. "What were you thinking! You can't leave without saying anything! What if you got – " He paused. "What is that?"

The baby peeked over the top of the sling, curiously taking in his new surroundings and the people around them. Leo carefully took the baby out of the sling and showed him to his brothers. Their jaws dropped.

"Leo–  what– " Raph spluttered.

"Why do you have a baby," Donnie's tone was dry, like he couldn't quite believe what he was seeing.

"I found him," Leo said and held the child out towards them. "Isn't he cute?"

"He's naked."

Leo wiggled the kid. "Yeah, but so were we until we were forced into clothes. C'mon, look at 'im."

The baby cooed and giggled when Leo wiggled him again. Leo couldn't stop his grin. That's right, kid, back him up here.

"He's adorable," Raph said and Mikey nodded in agreement, a gentle smile and soft look on his face that Leo hadn't seen in a while. Then, it turned to a frown.

"He's dirty." Mikey looked at Leo. "You're dirty." His nostrils flared and he pulled a face. "Oh, Pizza Supreme, you reek."

"It was full of gross, rotting stuff in there, of course I stink."

"Nuh-uh, no, that's – Donnie, bag!"

Donnie, remaining at a decent distance from Leo, the scent probably having wafted his way now as well, shoved the Poppins bag into Mikey's hands.

"Leo, come here," Mikey commanded as he took out a surprisingly well-maintained towel and a bottle marked Rain out of the bag.

"No, Mikey," Leo protested, even as his little brother stalked towards him and the wiggling child in his arms. "We shouldn't waste water on something like this – "

Mikey shushed him. "If you think I'm going to let you run around smelling like that, you're an idiot. Now, hands."

There had never been any arguing with Mikey. Reluctantly, Leo did as told. The water felt wonderful on his scales, black gunk and slime washing off his hands, then his knees when those were clean.

"Baby."

Leo carefully angled the baby in his arms so Mikey could rinse him off.

"Hold him tight."

A task far easier than Leo would've thought it would be. The kid whined and fussed a little when Mikey poured the water in small streams over him and scrubbed the filth off him, but he was otherwise extremely well-behaved. Maybe he was tired. Leo hoped he wasn't sick.

Leo dried the baby off while Mikey dug a blanket out of the bag – and dropped Leo’s now-dirty scarf in – which he then used to swaddle the baby. The kid cuddled into the warmth of the blanket, and released a body-shaking sneeze.

"Is he sick?" Raph asked, worriedly. His hands hovered near them, shifting around, but never reaching out, as if afraid to hurt the fragile little thing curled in Leo's arms.

Leo examined the child's eyes, nose, and mouth. "Doesn't seem like it," he determined. "But it bears keeping an eye on, to be sure."

"Was he alone down there?" Donnie asked as he poked the kid's cheek and earned himself a gurgled coo in response.

Leo's face fell. "There was a man there, too. Been dead a few days. I think he was the kid's father. The..." he hesitated. "The Kraang got him."

The air turned tense, his brothers grew grim.

"They were here. Recently," Donnie mumbled. "We should..."

"Move," Leo agreed. "Soon."

Mikey sighed. "And I was just starting to like that place, too."

Guilt swirled like the beginning of a vortex in Leo's chest. He swallowed down the instinctive sorry, knew none of his brothers would appreciate that pesky self-blame rearing its ugly head again, not after they'd spent so long picking up and gluing together the pieces that'd shattered after the end began.

The baby shifted in his arms, rolling over and almost careening out of his hold and onto the ground. Leo, panicked, scrambled to shift the kid and hold him more securely.

"Don't do that!" he scolded, but the baby just blinked at him, like he had no idea why Leo had stopped him from whatever little plans his infant brain had hatched.

"Are we..." Raph hesitated. "Are we taking him with us?"

The question was tentative, a glimmer of something Leo couldn't quite identify sparkling in Raph's gaze, but he knew it was soft, and maybe even a little hopeful, but the uncertainty Leo himself felt was clear for him to see. The baby was heavy in his arms and suckled sweetly at one of Leo’s fingers.

"We can't leave him here," Mikey said, loud, like it was already a protest. "He'll die!"

"Yeah, 'course, I didn't mean..." Raph held his hands up. How he managed to always look so much smaller than their little brother in moments like these would forever remain a mystery to Leo.

"It's a fair question, Mikey," Leo said. "It'll be a lot of work. We'll need to find far more food and supplies than what we survive on now - "

"So we're leaving him here just because - "

"Michael," Donnie cut in. His no-nonsense tone always worked best on Mikey, and they watched the rush of a fight leave their little brother. "It's an important thing to consider. This is a child, an entire person we need to take care of. Are we the best choice for that?"

They didn't know anything about babies, all reference they had was from their Pops' stories about their own childhood – and most of that was probably not applicable to fully human children – and some TV shows, which left much to be desired.

Mikey looked sadly at the baby and rested the back of his hand against his cheek.

"Where else is he supposed to go?" he whispered. "We're all he has."

Sorrow frayed at Leo's edges. His brother wasn't wrong – the kid was all alone in the world. They couldn't trust other humans to take care of him, even if they managed to find a group of them anywhere soon. There was no vetting process trustworthy enough in the mess that was the apocalypse for them to entrust the baby to strangers. Leo glanced at Donnie and Raph, and knew, from the looks on their faces, they were considering the exact same thing. Leo and Raph's eyes met, they exchanged nothing but a wordless look for a moment, and then they nodded.

"He'll need a name,” Raph said. Mikey looked between them for a startled moment and then positively lit up.

"I've got the best names! There's Clunk, Cody, Haley, Joel -"

Donnie, a smile tilting at his lips, leaned in, consideringly, and he hummed a melody-less tune.

"He reminds me somewhat of Cassandra."

Leo made a noise that was a mix between offense and confusion, while Raph, looking only confused, leaned curiously closer to the baby.

"Oh!" Mikey said. "He does kinda look like her, doesn't he?"

Leo squinted down at the child in his arms. The baby looked back up at him with wide, dark eyes.

"I don't see it," Leo said. "He's so much cuter."

"He's a baby," Donnie huffed, but Leo could hear amusement in his tone. "They're designed to be cute."

"Which means I'm right."

"No, Leo, look. He does look like her," Raph's hands skated around the baby, one palm almost dwarfing the little guy. He pushed the kid's hair back with one, careful finger. "See?" The baby reached up, grabbed Raph's finger best he could with his tiny baby-grip. Raph melted, smile wide and warm, and Leo's breath almost stopped, stolen from his lungs, because he felt, vaguely, as if the sun had come out for the first time after a barren, endless winter.

"Okay," Leo said. Cleared his throat to rid it off its roughness. "Yeah, okay. I guess I see it. So, Casey, then?"

"Casey Junior," Mikey declared, a new sort of pride lining him almost as bright as his ninpo. "It's perfect."

"You wanna hold him, Raph?" Leo asked. It was easy to spot the building refusal, worry and hesitance pinging back in his big brother's eyes, so Leo, swiftly, and without too much jostling, deposited the baby in Raph's arms.

Panic seized, but only for a moment, because then Casey cuddled closer up to him, burying himself in the safe comfort of Raph's arms, and every bit of tension washed away.

His brothers huddled around, gazing at the slowly dozing baby nestled, like he'd always belonged there, in their big brother's arms. They talked in hushed, bright tones, and warmth sang like a crackling hearth through Leo’s soul.

Picking up Casey might’ve been the best thing he’d ever done.

[polar-equinoxx]

Vertigo - Chapter 3 is posted!!

[bookie-the-reading-junkie]

tagged by @ladynightlark Thanks for tagging me!

Rules: make a new post with the names of all the files in your WIP folder, regardless of how non-descriptive or ridiculous. Let people send you an ask with the title that most intrigues them, and then post a little snippet or tell them something about it! Then, tag as many people as you have WIPs

Since I kind of just got back into writing in the past couple of months, I don't have a lot of WIPs that I plan on actually doing something with. Most things I have planned are related to my Demon Slayer fic series Young Flames and Dying Coals (YFDC), because I have a few post-Lionheart fics in mind for that series. I'll list them as well as a couple ideas I have floating around!

YFDC: Lionheart ch 20

YFDC: Rust and Dust (Yoriichi's spirit is stuck in Yoriichi Type Zero)

YFDC: Pumped up kicks (one year later)

YFDC: Embers (final epilogue about ten years later)

Role Swap AU with Tanjuro and Demon!Kie (literally just came up with this yesterday but IDEAS)

non Demon Slayer WIPs/ideas

Fullmetal Alchemist x Harry Potter crossover (instead of getting his soul bonded to the armor, Al is sent to the wizarding world to defeat Voldemort)

How to train your dragon movie and book crossover (Movie cast is invited to the Wilderwest a year after the war)

@wanderinginkspots @ch1cken-egg @owlofthenight117 @ghostboymichael @wickedcriminal don't have to do this, but I'd love to hear your WIPs!

[enigmatic-mystery-777]

Hello, got a lovely weird wild little one-shot for you! It contains talking dragons! Go ahead and throw any realism expectations out the window because this one-shot *so* didn't follow those rules. Hope you enjoy!

Just Trust Me

You're a wildlife specialist, and you get to go with SG1 to a world of dragons to help them navigate so neither human nor dragon lives get hurt. It's not easy, there's a lot of preconceived notions about dragons that has Daniel, being overprotective of you, overreacting a little.

Taglist: @cuillere @stargaterevival @mrssci-fi-nerd-sg-1 @daydreampending @systemadministratorclu @riverageleis

[gaysforbyler]

Guys I REALLY don’t want to post this next chapter. I TRIED SOMETHING and I kinda sorta maybe like it, but I’m so scared of other people seeing it. Can’t this one just be for me? I’ll post the next one with no context and it’ll be really confusing

[paranoidgemsbok]

imagine making over 4 grand per month off nothing but ebegging and having the nerve to say you desperately need more money

[inastrangerskiss]

second nature

David Finlay x Reader

content warning: none, a little angst, a lot of fluff

summary: you were hoping dinner at david's might make a bad day better.

a/n: requested by @kcloveswrestling i hope you enjoy it! i haven't written in months so i'm definitely a little rusty but it was really fun to write!

It had been, perhaps, the longest day in the history of forever.

The gray clouds overhead, residuals of a dissipating storm, seemed almost a bit too cliché given how you were feeling today. 

The day had started with three back to back to back meetings, was punctuated with a spilled cup of coffee, and ended with a fifteen block trek in the pouring rain without an umbrella. The precipitation had only begun to lift as you reached your destination. 

Though you had maintained a smile the entire day for the sake of your co-workers, the waterlogged socks on your feet were threatening to send you past the breaking point as you maneuvered the key in your hand into the keyhole. 

As you stepped through the doorway a sense of relief washed over you. It was later than you had intended for your arrival but at least the workweek was over and you could make an attempt at relaxing. The apartment smelled of a mix of food cooking in the kitchen and the candle lit in the living room - an almost intoxicating aroma given the day you had just had.

“Hello?” You called out.

A sudden crash followed by quiet swearing met your words. Only seconds later David appeared from the kitchen, an attempt at appearing relaxed painted over his features. It hardly mattered as the expression quickly transformed into shock as he took in your drenched frame. 

“You look like a drowned rat! What happened to you?” He asked, hurrying to your side to help you shed your coat.

“Wow, thanks. Can always count on you to brighten my day.” You muttered with an eye roll. 

“Sorry.” David relented. “Did you get caught in that storm?” 

You stood still for a moment, fixing him with a blank stare as he hung your coat on his coat rack, placing it just right so the coat had the best chance at drying before you went back to your apartment at the end of the night.

“No, I fell into my shower fully clothed.” You said sarcastically.

David shot you a disdainful look, his shoulders dropping slightly. 

“Yes, I got caught in the storm.” You sighed, no longer interested in the banter. “I had to help my boss with an errand and ended up ridiculously far away from my train stop.”

“Why didn’t you use an umbrella?” He asked, genuine confusion resting on his brow.

“I didn’t bring one today.” You admitted. “It wasn’t supposed to rain though!”

“It’s the summer. There’s always a chance of rain.” 

He shook his head as he made his way back to the kitchen to check on the dinner he was making, assuming you’d follow behind him to continue your conversation. Instead you stood still, collecting your thoughts as they raced through your head, your eyes trained on where your best friend had vanished around the corner.

Best friend.

This was yet another reason as to why your day - no, your week - had been a complete shitshow.

David had been the closest person to you for as long as you could remember. Everything between the two of you had always been second nature. Friends expected you to arrive at parties together and were never surprised when you left, your hand intertwined with his. They teased you, saying that you were both oblivious to the other’s real feelings but you always just laughed their words off.

“David is just a friend.” You’d insist. 

He was just a friend. 

And then a girl appeared. Her name was Anna? Or Amy? You hadn’t exactly spent too much time trying to memorize any details about her existence. Your awareness of her began one day when her name, adhered to an alert about a new text, popped up on David’s phone while he was making popcorn in the kitchen. He had left his phone beside you, expecting to only be gone a few minutes. You knew everyone in his life. He had introduced you to anyone that carried any sort of significance to him. 

But you certainly didn’t know her. 

“Who’s that?” You had asked when he finally returned.

David glanced at the name before locking his phone once more, placing it face down on the arm rest beside him and looking up to the television where your paused movie sat, frozen in place just like you.

“No one.” He had responded quickly. 

There had never been secrets between you and David before. 

But this certainly seemed to be a secret and its shadow was looming over the relationship the two of you had so carefully crafted.

As days passed (and David’s inability to keep anything hidden from you began to shine brightly) you learned this girl was a new friend. A friend he had gone to get drinks with the night after you first saw her name on his phone. A friend he had invited back to his place that very same night. 

A friend he had slept with.

A friend he had asked out on - as he put it - an official date.

You sat at his kitchen counter in one of the uncomfortable stools that had come with the apartment, your body feeling numb as he announced this. 

For as long as you had known David, relationships never got in the way. He had been in a long term relationship up until a year ago. Coincidentally, you broke up with your significant other only days after his girlfriend dumped him. 

But that’s all it was - a coincidence. 

Since then, neither of you had had the time or energy to get back on the market. When you weren’t working you were hanging out with one another and that had seemed to be enough. There hadn’t been anyone new to share him with. There hadn’t been anyone to take up his time. 

It had just been the two of you.

And so, the week had passed, and that was how you found yourself standing stock still in his living room, wet socks on your feet and drenched hair running down your back. When he texted you, asking if you’d like to have dinner at his place, you jumped at the opportunity to spend some time with him, to forget the nightmare of a life you had been muddling through. 

You heard David’s footsteps returning to where you stood, causing you to become painfully aware of how long you had been stationary. 

“You coming?” He asked.

“Shit, sorry. Yeah.”

He reached a hand out to you, as though helping you to bridge the gap between the entryway and the rest of his home. You stared at it for a second.

You had held his hand a million times before. He had led you back to his kitchen by way of palm to palm connection nearly every time you had come over for a hot meal. 

But, for whatever reason, this gesture felt different to you.

You looked up at his expectant, albeit confused, face.

You wracked your brain for reasons why you felt you couldn’t take his offer of physical connection. Was it because you had had a long day and everything seemed foreign and strange to you? Was it because you were certain he was seeing someone and this felt like a breach of boundaries?

He waved at you, breaking the spell of overthinking you had cast upon yourself. 

That was her hand to hold. Wasn’t it? 

Once more, he offered the opportunity to weave your fingers between his. 

Quickly, you took it, mentally shaking off the stillness you had found. The warmth of his skin against yours caused your heart to pump just a little faster. 

You tried to clear your head. He was just a friend and friends sometimes hold hands and there's nothing deeper to it. Even if there was, why would you want that? You didn’t want to date David.

Right?

You felt a newfound tension in your chest as you contemplated the question. 

You had never questioned your feelings for him. Everything had always been platonic and you were more than happy to keep it that way. Anything else seemed complicated and altogether unappealing.

But, if that was all true, and you really were happy with how things had always been, then why did you feel unmitigated dread when you considered his new girlfriend holding his hand just as you were now? Why did the idea of her cuddling him on the couch make you want to turn inside out?

You looked at David as you both entered the kitchen. You hardly noticed the extraordinary mess he had created in his pursuit for the perfect dinner. You were too busy feeling horror for a newfound concept that had only just become clear to you.

You were jealous. 

You tried to find ways to deny it or invalidate the thought but there was no way around it. That was the only possible explanation.

“How was your day?” Asked David, oblivious to the panic written over your face as he tended to a pot of boiling water.

You let out a heavy sigh, trying to act as normal as humanly possible.

“It was shit.” You grumbled, sitting on the stool you hated so dearly. “You need help with anything?”

“No. Just relax.” He shook his head, his eyes now trained on his phone, reviewing the recipe he was trying to follow. “Why was your day shit?”

“Just work and all that.” You offered vaguely.

David looked up at you, his eyes clear and sparkling, the smallest hint of a smile on his cheeks. “And all that? What’s all that?”

“Just, y’know, work. Life. So on. So forth.” You waved your hand in the air. “You sure you don’t need help?”

“Can you just talk to me about how your day went?” He asked, his smile deepening a fraction. 

You hesitated. You weren’t sure why he was so adamant. All the same, you launched into the story of your day, complete with every messy detail and direct quotes from meetings and water cooler chats. You thought you would make him regret asking for this narrative by being so detailed but he simply nodded along, smiling at your cynical jokes and frowning when he deemed a comment from a co-worker to be too harsh. 

He listened to every word, offering eye contact as often as he could to remind you he was paying attention. It made you trip over the syllables as you spoke them.

By the time you were done, David was draining the pasta into a colander and turning off the burner beneath his homemade sauce. He served himself and then you, offering your bowl of food to you with a flourish and a cheesy grin.

“I’m sorry.” He said as you both walked over to his kitchen table. “That does sound like a shit day.”

“Yeah.” You muttered.

It was quiet for a moment, the only sound coming from silverware scraping against ceramic. But then David’s head perked up.

“You only told me about work.” He said, as though he had just realized.

“And?” You asked.

“You said you were also having problems with life in general.” 

You shook your head fervently. “Don’t worry. It’s too much to get into.” 

“You can tell me.”

He was earnest and his face seemed genuinely interested in whatever you had to say.

You so desperately wanted to blurt out every single thought you had had in the last forty minutes but knew you couldn’t. There was no point in ruining a perfectly good evening with words that could absolutely nuke the most important relationship in your life. 

You bit your lip.

You would simply have to settle for screaming them into your pillow later, when you got home. 

“How’s that girl you’re seeing? Anna or Amy or whatever.” You asked, a poor attempt at changing the subject.

“Andrea?” He asked with a laugh, turning to you, almost surprised you hadn’t cared to remember her name.

“Yeah. Her.”

David’s smile persisted for a moment before dropping slowly off of his face as he turned back to his food.

“It’s fine.” He said softly.

It was your turn to pry into his life, an opportunity you were almost thankful for as the spotlight was quickly taken off of you. 

“That doesn’t sound fine.” You murmured.

David groaned softly, abandoning his efforts to eat in favor of rubbing his hands over his face. Concern grew in your chest as you realized he seemed truly bothered.

Sure, you had come to the conclusion you were jealous of this girl’s relationship with him. It didn’t mean you had ever wanted to see him hurt by her.

Carefully, you put your fork down and placed your hand on his arm, causing him to lift his gaze towards you. The smile that had gradually returned was a forced one. It was trying.

“I don’t think that it’s going to work out.” He finally responded.

“Ah, shit.” You rubbed your thumb in small, comforting circles over his wrist. “I’m sorry.”

“No you’re not.” He chuckled wryly.

“Yes I am!” You protested.

“You didn’t like her.”

“I did!”

“No. You didn’t.” He spoke with finality. At first you could’ve thought he was mad at you but then he began to laugh softly to himself. “You’re really not as subtle as you think you are.”

You hesitated. You came here this evening for comfort after a horrendous day. You hadn’t expected it to get more complicated as a result.

“I just - I didn’t - it was complicated.” You sighed. “It was hard to get used to a new person. That’s all. But I’m sure I would’ve sooner or later.” 

“No. I get it.” David nodded, understandingly.

“I didn’t want it to be something that broke you guys up.” You said softly, your voice almost getting lost between your bodies.

“No, no.” David reached out to place a loving hand over your arm. “Trust me. That wasn’t what broke us up.”

“No?”

“No.” He shook his head.

You looked back to your food that was likely beginning to reach room temperature. You didn’t think you could stomach it anyways. David’s eyes remained on you, as though he were trying to telepathically communicate something to you but couldn’t quite find the right wavelength.

You didn’t want to look back to him for fear your minds might actually connect.

“I’m sorry you had a shitty day.” He said.

You only shrugged. “At least I’m here now.”

“Yeah.” David paused before speaking once more. “Want to order ice cream? I know that always makes you feel better and we can-”

“Why did you break up with Andrea?” You interrupted.

David’s face went blank as he looked back at you. His eyes quickly dropped and searched the floor for anything resembling an answer.

“It just wasn’t working out.” He offered.

“Bullshit.”

“It’s true!”

“That’s not the truth.” You retorted.

He pressed his eyes shut.

“There was someone else.” He finally admitted, his words a rush as they poured from his mouth.

The sentence was short. Only four words. It still took you off your feet. How could there be someone else? How could there be another person you hadn’t known about? 

Slowly, David opened his eyes and looked up to you, his face a grimace as though he were bracing for impact. 

All you could manage was a small nod. 

“Do I know them?” You asked.

“Yeah.”

“Who?”

You felt as though you were demanding answers now.

“Fuck.” He whispered, shaking his head from side to side as he pinched his brow.

“Who is it?” You pressed. Your tone softened slightly as you continued to speak. “You can tell me.”

“Can we talk about this somewhere else?” He asked. “Like the living room?”

“Why do we need to talk in the living room?”

“It’s just easier.”

“Than the kitchen? I-”

“Can we please just talk about this in the living room?” He pleaded.

You opened your mouth to argue but couldn’t get past the insistent look in his eyes. You had to back down.

“Fine.” You nodded, pushing your seat out and away from the table.

David followed you to the couch. There was no hand holding this time as you crossed your arms over your chest. You feared if you were to allow him that liberty it would only make whatever he was about to say ten times more devastating. 

You sat with a huff and he sat beside you, his body far too close to yours for comfort. You didn’t move away, though. You let his knee press against yours, all the same.

“So, we’ve been really good friends for a while, right?” He started.

“Yes?” You asked, growing more confused and more agitated as he went on.

“And you and I spend a lot of time together, right?”

“Yes.” You nodded. “Where is this going?”

“Every relationship I’ve been in since meeting you -”

“All two of them?” You asked with a raised eyebrow and a cheeky smirk.

“All two of them.” He nodded. “In both of those relationships I was dumped-”

“Damn. 0 for 2, it seems.” 

David shoved you playfully, reveling in the brief levity your commentary added to what he was trying to say.

“Can you stop talking?” He asked, a smile betraying his words.

You waved your hand, signaling for him to continue with what he had been saying.

“In both of those relationships I was dumped because of you.”

This admission made your heart drop to your toes and leak out onto the carpet beneath them. Your waterlogged socks were now the least of your worries. Fear began to creep in as you could guess where these words were going.

“I thought it was just that first relationship. I thought that was an anomaly. She said she felt like I was dating two girls at once and couldn’t stand that you, more often than not, took precedence over her.” He explained. “But then Andrea said, quite literally, the exact same thing.”

The room was too quiet. Normally, you could hear city noises or some sort of ambiance due to noisy neighbors or construction but today was different. Today, all you could hear was the breath coming in and out of your lungs.

“What are you saying, David?” You asked, your voice small to avoid the warble you knew was hiding in your throat.

“I’m saying that you are the reason Andrea and I broke up.” 

Anger began flooding your chest. It was the least you could do to fight back the crushing tidal wave of sadness that loomed desperately in the background.

“So what? What does that mean?” You snapped. “Are you saying you don’t want to be friends?”

“No! That’s not-”

“That’s not what? You literally just blamed me for your relationships falling apart!”

You felt tears prickling at the corners of your eyes. You stood quickly, no longer interested in participating in this heart to heart - or whatever David wanted to call it - but a hand just as quickly pulled you back to the couch.

You looked at him, your eyes narrowed as you pulled back from his grasp. To your surprise, his expression was one of fondness. It was one of gentleness.

It was one of love.

“Can you sit down?” He asked, his voice calm and balanced.

“What could you possibly have left to say?” You argued.

“When I told you that Andrea and I broke up, I told you it was because there was someone else, right?”

“For fuck - just tell me who it is so I can go home! This isn’t some kind of game, Finlay!”

Before the words could all but tumble free of your mouth David spoke once more.

“I already told you who it was.” He said, as composed as anyone has ever been.

“No, you haven’t.” 

“You are the reason Andrea and I broke up.”

Once more a hush fell over the apartment. Your mind, for the first time all day, was completely empty, save for his words that rattled around your skull like a ping pong ball.

With slight trepidation that you might lash out again, David moved a hair closer.

“Me?” You asked.

“You.”

“I’m the other person?”

His brow furrowed as he tried to find the best way to formulate his words.

“I asked you over tonight so we could talk about this.” He said slowly. “I didn’t know how to though. And I probably did it wrong but I just really, really care about you. And when I’m with another person it just feels like I’m biding my time until I get to see you. At first, when I was still in that last relationship, I thought that was just because you were my best friend. And then when that all ended I didn’t have to think about it anymore because we were just always together. But then I started seeing Andrea and I felt the exact same way. I was just waiting until I got to see you. Which is really tough when you’re seeing someone else 24/7.”

A small laugh found its way from your chest. David smiled to himself, realizing he had gotten through the hardest part of the conversation.

“I don’t know how you feel and maybe you don’t feel the same but when Andrea broke up with me I hardly fought back because I knew I had to at least shoot my shot here. I couldn’t waste more time. Especially not if there was a chance for things to work out.” He continued. “So, yeah. We broke up because of you.”

You were quiet for a beat, taking your time to ingest everything that had been laid out in front of you. After a few minutes of staring at your feet you turned back to him.

“I guess I really have an impact, huh?” You finally offered, causing David to laugh softly.

“Yeah, you’re a real pain in my ass if I’m being completely honest.”

“Wouldn’t want to be anyone else’s.” You said softly. “I guess it’s my turn to talk about feelings, huh?”

“That’d be nice, considering I just bared my literal, entire heart to you.” David smirked.

“Yeah. I’ll be honest, I am glad you guys broke up.”

“We’ve established that.” 

“But it’s not because I didn’t like her. I didn’t know her. I didn’t have enough information about her to decide whether I did or didn’t like her.” With a deep breath, you exhaled your next words. “I’m happy because I was jealous of her.”

David paused to look at you, his eyes darting across your face for any signs of a lie or a joke but coming up empty handed.

“Jealous?” He asked.

“Mhm.” You nodded. “I was jealous that she got to spend time with you that I didn’t get to spend. I was jealous that she got to, like, hold your hand and whatever else.”

A coy grin wrapped up in David’s cheeks as he began to relax. 

“What’s ‘whatever else’?”

“David.” You warned.

“No, tell me. I’m dying to know.”

You clenched your jaw defiantly.

“I was jealous she got to cuddle with you.” You grumbled. 

“You and I cuddle all the time. What’s ‘whatever else’ mean?”

“Do I really have to say it?” 

“Yes.” He was now grinning ear to ear in the most obnoxious display of shamelessness you had ever played witness to.

You balled your fists and shut your eyes, knowing there was no way out other than through.

“I was jealous she got to kiss you!” You blurted, leaving David in hysterics. This reaction earned him several hard swats on his arm.

“Ow!” He whined, continuing to laugh so hard his face turned red.

“Fuck this.” You muttered, threatening to leave once more but this time wholly knowing you were bluffing. “Goodbye! I’m leaving!”

You got as far as the coat rack before David sprang up, buying into your words, his face trying to regain composure.

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry.” He repeated as he placed a hand on either side of your shoulders. “I didn’t mean to laugh.”

“You sure about that?” You asked, your eyebrow arching into your forehead.

“Well… no.” He said sheepishly. “But can I make it up to you?”

“How are you going to-”

Before you could finish your sentence, David’s hand made its way to your chin, lifting it just a few degrees so you were facing him. Slowly, as though he were waiting for you to stop him, he leaned in. First, his nose brushed yours. Then, you could feel the warmth of his breath meeting your skin. 

Finally, he kissed you. 

His hand that had maneuvered your chin moved to gently hold the side of your face and the other moved to your lower back, pulling you in closer as though to not let you drift away. It only lasted a few seconds but it felt like a couple eternities.

When he pulled back you smiled, his face still only a few inches from yours.

“Now, what were you saying about being jealous that she got to kiss me?” He asked.

“Not sure if I remember.” You shrugged.

Almost reluctantly, David put more space between your bodies, if only to make better eye contact with you. 

“There was never a reason to be jealous of anyone else. You always, always came first.”

His words were honest. There was no joking, no playfulness, no sarcasm. You curled your head down and pulled him back to you, embracing him. He kissed the crown of your head as though it were what he had always done.

“I think, if it’s okay with you, I’d like to maybe try being more than friends.” You suggested.

“I think that’s probably a good idea.” David agreed. “For us and the people around us.”

“Might save a few more people some time they’d normally spend breaking up with you.” You joked.

“I’m going to order ice cream and I am not going to get you anything.” He threatened, despite his arms never leaving your body.

You stood there a while longer. 

Your day had been awful, there was no doubting that. But you were thankful for how it ended. 

And as you reflected on the evening, laying on the couch, still in David’s arms, you realized it had to end this way. There was no other way for this to end.

It was intuition. It was instinct.

It was second nature.

[gepard-draws]

otto luocha 👍👍👍

[the-kipsabian]

i'll brain this up properly at some point but

i fic'd

its not your story to write

[anaxandria-writes]

Snippet Sunday

Okay so I was tagged by @beaconfeels (hi lovely!) and it’s been so long since I’ve participated in one of these, so here’s some of the overdue next chapter from What Large You Hands You Have (my Steter WIP) in which Peter manipulates a hotel worker to find Stiles:

"Good afternoon. Are you here to check in?" she asked, her tone professional with no hitch of breath or hesitation.

"Hi, Kelly. I'm actually here to visit someone, but unfortunately, I can't seem to reach him and forgot his room number.  His name is Stiles Stilinski, but he might be using his given name of Mieczyslaw.”

"I'm sorry to hear that." No, she wasn't. That was an apathetic tone, if he'd ever heard one.  He decided to kick up the pitifulness a notch.  It wasn't like she'd ever see him again, his pride could take the hit.

He looked straight up into the lights above the desk as he swallowed, wishing that his body was more sensitive to the brightness. He glanced at her face then away then back again.  

"Sir, I'm sorry but it's our policy not to give out information of any of our guests."

Another swallow. He bit his tongue. Hard.

Come on.

Finally, he felt the prick of water in his eyes. He couldn't remember much of torts from his law school days, but he 100% remembered coaching defendants as witnesses. All it took was one tenderhearted juror to eat up a sob story.

Blink once, blink twice so the tear really starts to get going.

"He's my," voice crack for a pause, and another blink, "boyfriend." A deep breath, shake of the head to simulate pulling himself together, but really to flesh out the improv which would have to spill out with feigned emotion. "Stiles is my boyfriend. And we got into a stupid fight, and now I haven't been able to get in contact with him all day. You know how long distance can be, right? It's been killing us and he insisted on the hotel because you know how family can be and I've been so out of my mind that I can't remember which room it is.  I think it's the fifth, but honestly, it could be any of them."

Peter had to stop to breathe a bit and let his acting marinate before he went for the kill -- "I know you have your policies, but look," he shoved his phone with the chat to Stiles open on his phone, "he sent me a one letter text this morning and nothing since!  He has a heart condition, and I just... fear for the worst.  Is there anything you can do?"

Her colleague had returned to watch his display and looked far more moved than Kelly, but he had seen the flicker of uncertainty as soon as he pulled out the health card.  No hotel worker wanted to risk finding a dying guest.

Her eyes scanned the messages to Stiles again and he had to keep himself from pulling his phone back.

"Look, I understand you're upset. May I ask your name?"

"Peter. Peter Hale."

Her colleague pulled a bottle of water from under the desk and slid it toward Peter along with a box of tissues. And Peter was not one to say no to a prop, so he grabbed one and dabbed at his eyes before giving a small close-lipped smile to them both.

"Look, I'm not supposed to be doing this, but I can call his room and see if he'll agree to see you. David, if you tell anyone, you're dead to me.  What was his last name again?"  Her colleague (David, apparently) nodded, before turning sad eyes on Peter again.

[starstruckodysseys]

she’s getting into something (he’s going all or nothing) —

(or: lanie doesn’t do bets. or lessons, for that matter. there’s also not a lot she wouldn’t do for her friends. unfortunately.)

(or or: the ep8 business date/craps game but a little to the left. extremely to the left, some might say. possibly not even on the map anymore)

“Okay,” Lanie says, because she’s pretty sure they’re getting confused here, “hang on, sidebar real quick.”

She drags Wendell-as-Vic off to the side, just enough that no one should be able to hear them. It’s both easier and harder than usual, but somehow not in a way that cancels out.

“Wen,” she says quietly, staring him dead in the eyes, not taking her hand off his shoulder. “Wendell. You are aware that I, actual person Lanie Woodward, am not a lesbian, right?”

He stares at her like he was not, in fact, aware of this. “…What?”

Lanie sighs, rubs at her temple. “I’m— what do you mean what? I flirt with half the customers that come into the store!”

“I’ve never seen you flirt with a guy!” he whisper-shouts frantically.

Holy shit. Holy actual shit. There’s a voice in the back of her mind that isn’t hers yelling at her not to cry, but she feels pretty damn close to it.

It’s not— Lanie is not subtle. That has never been a word in her vocabulary. If she grins and laughs and leans a little closer during conversation than strictly necessary, people assume things, and that’s easier than dealing with her actual emotions. But this is not that, has never been that. She’s aware that she’s an awkward third wheel in whatever the hell Wendell and Liv have going on, but she’d assumed everyone was aware of that. It’s, like, her entire deal. Usha winks pointedly at her and Dang laughs while Russell attempts to be comforting when she groans too loudly and Paula— well, Paula might not actually be aware of it, but that’s perfectly fine with her.

But anyway. She was under the impression everyone knew, for the most part. Hell, Dave’s gotten onto her about it numerous times! Which, to be fair, he kind of does anyway, but fuck him because she’s nineteen and already in debt and—

Lanie sighs. Swallows. Glances around for anyone remotely resembling a bartender. Finds no one. “Is there a bartender here?” she asks desperately.

The weird clown man in the back steps forward, bowing slightly. Lanie squints at him, recognizes him as the guy who set up the kiss bet, and nods.

“Can I get, just… the strongest thing you have. In general.” She makes a vague hand motion that means nothing.

“Lan—” Wendell starts, stops, tries again. “Cara. I don’t—”

She waves him off. “I’m fine. Or, I will be fine in the next thirty seconds, if someone gets to it.” She raises a pointed eyebrow, something she’s never been able to figure out how to do as herself.

The clown man bows deeper. “Yes, ma’am.”

Lanie cringes, but nods, and he sets off to… somewhere. The where isn’t important. She’s currently unpacking the difference between what she’s meant the past few months and what everyone else has apparently assumed she’s meant. Or at least what Wendell has assumed she’s meant. Which is nothing.

She thinks she might have an aneurysm.

But that’s— they don’t have time for this right now. They have to learn how to play craps — and then pretend that they knew how to play craps the whole time, because Kingskin’s entire thing is crime and gambling and whatnot, and they can’t risk being found out now — so that Wendell doesn’t fucking die in the movie or whatever. Either that or he… kisses Liv on the mouth. As Kingskin and Vic Ethanol. She’s getting flashbacks to every high school party she ever went to.

Is it wrong that she doesn’t really care who wins? Probably. She’s also murdered several people at this point, so maybe her morals are a little off. Sue her.

Liv glances sideways at her when she sits back down. “Everything okay?”

“I think I’m going insane, Livvy,” Lanie mutters, just loud enough for only Liv to hear.

“Oh.” Liv frowns. “Do you want to head out?”

“I mean, I’d love to, y’know, survive,” Wendell cuts in, swinging around to sit on Lanie’s other side, which does not feel convenient if they do lose the game.

She’s not complaining or anything. It’s just impractical. From a logical standpoint. Obviously.

“They legally can’t kill you,” she says, bumping their shoulders together — a feat that’s a little more difficult now that their height difference… exists at all, really, but is more exaggerated than usual. “Pretty sure you made sure of that.”

“I didn’t do anything!” he protests weakly.

Lanie rolls her eyes fondly, and Liv laughs, and Wendell huffs but doesn’t say anything else. If she squints, it looks like he’s blushing, but that would be— well. Actually. It would be ridiculous on Vic Ethanol, sure, but she knows Wendell well enough that it’s hardly even surprising. It’s just… strange, seeing it on someone else’s face. Which is kind of a summary of their entire experience here so far.

The clown guy returns with her drink. He pauses in the doorway when he sees them, but recovers quickly, only looking at them a little suspiciously as he hands over the glass, the liquid somehow both muddy brown and bright pink at the same time. Right. She has a reputation to uphold, and the fact that her best friends slash main flirting targets are not women is not helping Cara’s whole lesbian thing. The lesbian thing being that she is a lesbian.

Maybe that’s Lanie’s lesson here. Stop being an obnoxious freak.

She’s never been good at taking lessons to heart.

“You all know how to play, yes?” French fry man asks — Pommefriete, whatever, it’s a stupid name. His accent is slowly getting less French and more incomprehensible.

“Um. Yeah. Definitely,” Liv says awkwardly. “But if we could get, like, a refresher? For the table…?”

This is going either nowhere or very badly and neither of those are great options.

“Just so we’re on a level playing field,” Lanie adds. If she leans a little more forward than necessary, well. “You wouldn’t want someone to have an unfair advantage, would you?”

Pommefriete shakes his head. “Certainly not. A refresher for the table it is!”

She lets out a very small sigh of relief. Wendell bumps their legs together under the table, and Liv flashes her a grateful smile when they make eye contact. She sends one back — it was Liv’s idea, after all. She’s just… using her resources. Yeah, that’s it. Pretty privilege works, kids.

Unfortunately, it isn’t enough to save their dice rolls, which end up being very bad. Lanie still doesn’t entirely understand how the game works, but the numbers are low and that’s not usually great in dice games. She leans back in her chair, lets out a low whistle. There’s not much else to do.

“Practice round,” Wendell mutters. Liv nods, determined.

Lanie takes a sip of her drink in preparation. It’s far stronger than she’d expected, even with her request, and it tastes strangely like nail polish remover. She coughs, attempting to muffle it with one hand and failing miserably. She’s still decidedly too sober to deal with literally any of this, so she takes another drink and pretends it doesn’t burn her throat on the way down.

There’s a tension in the air, electric and terrifying. Lanie isn’t even involved in the game, or the bet — they’d offered, but her luck has always been terrible — but she’s still on the edge of her seat. Metaphorically speaking, that is.

The dice clink against the table. Liv swears under her breath. Wendell goes deathly still. Lanie kicks back the rest of her drink before even bothering to look at the numbers. It’s entirely worth it once she does.

“Well then,” Pommefriete says, sounding just smug enough that Lanie actively resists the urge to not punch him in the face. “That’s the way the dice fall, I suppose. Or, roll, rather.”

He laughs as if he’s made some sort of clever pun, and not just a statement of fact. Next to Lanie, Wendell’s still completely frozen, and she covertly elbows him to drag him back to the present. He jolts, stares properly at the dice on the table, and seems to physically hold back a groan. She can’t say she doesn’t relate, and she’s not even part of the deal here.

“I, uh.” Liv moves like she’s going to mess with her hair, then seems to remember she doesn't exactly have hair to mess with. “Do we just…?”

Her hesitance is strange to see on Kingskin, but it makes it easier for Lanie to pretend that this is a normal situation for the three of them and not borderline life or death. Like they’re playing Truth or Dare at a sleepover, and not gambling Wendell’s life away.

The dynamite sticks out from behind the table. She thinks she sees red for a second.

Lanie has, over the course of their time in the movie and even before it, watched Wendell and Liv dance around each other. She’s seen Wendell forget how to form sentences like a functioning human, noted carefully as Liv’s feelings seemed to slowly blossom into something new. It’s cute, really, and she’s used to being the third wheel in their whole deal, used to being the advice girl, the therapist friend.

She scoots her chair back to give them space. Liv places one monstrous hand on her thigh to stop her and leans in.

It’s a painstakingly slow affair. Which is fair, because she doesn’t think either of them have kissed anyone before — not that she’s one to talk — and they’re two of the most awkward people she knows. When it comes to each other, at least. Thank god Liv is at least a little assertive when the situation calls for it.

They’re still incredibly far apart. The fact that everything feels like it’s going way too fast doesn’t change the actuality of the situation. Lanie sighs, leans back, catches Wendell’s eye for half a second and raises an eyebrow, pointed and teasing and a little jealous, all at once.

It’s just a Liv thing, he’d said. She doesn’t know if she still believes it.

“You chicken?” she says, like a challenge.

She doesn’t mean to say it, really. But there’s a buzz in her chest and a warmth in her bones, and her brain doesn’t feel completely tethered to the ground, much less her own head. It’s not entirely her fault she’s saying the first thing to come to mind.

Lanie isn’t particularly quiet, most of the time. The alcohol is doing nothing to help.

Wendell sputters, avoiding her gaze even as his face reddens. Liv pauses for a fraction of a second, glances at Lanie and immediately looks away. She doesn’t know what to do with any of this information. Her brain’s so fuzzy she might not even be retaining it.

(She is. It’s going straight to the back of her brain, highlighted in several different colors and cataloged under what the fuck what the fuck what the fuck. She’s used that box a lot more recently.)

They’re leaning in again. Not that they ever really stopped, but it’s actually happening now, and Lanie really feels like she shouldn’t be here, or should at least be looking away, but Liv’s hand is burning a hole through her thigh and she doesn’t even know if she could move if she wanted to. She should want to. This is weird.

The voice in the back of her head — the one that isn’t hers, technically, just trapped in its own body — has dulled down. Logically, Lanie knows Cara’s in there somewhere, probably shouting at her to leave the situation, but she can’t hear the woman unless she actively tries. And, for reasons she thinks are pretty solid, she doesn’t really feel like trying. She’s got… other things on her mind right now.

She hasn’t been able to take her eyes off of either of her friends in front of her, which isn’t much different from usual, actually, but there’s a flash of movement in the corner of her eye, and even in her clouded state she manages to clock it. Pommefriete is dashing away, more subtle than anyone else in this goddamn film.

“Fucking—” Lanie mutters, then continues, at a normal volume: “I hate to break this up, trust me, but french fry motherfucker is currently getting away, and I feel like we should maybe do something about that.”

Maybe it’s her words, or her voice, or the fact that half of those words weren’t even words because she’s slurring them just barely, but Liv and Wendell spring apart, nervous and hesitant. Lanie rolls her eyes — she loves them, really, but there’s a time and a place and yes she’s being a hypocrite, but that’s not relevant. Blame the fact that she’s getting drunker by the second.

They, eventually, dash out the door, hopefully hot on the tail of the clown guys who apparently want them dead. It doesn’t take long to find them, mostly because they’re brightly colored and in a large room. Lanie reaches for the gun in her pocket, then switches sides because that’s her taser, actually, which is also her MacGuffin and not something she wants to be throwing around for no reason.

And then it turns out they don’t even need their weapons, because the hotel staff spring out from literally nowhere and, quite literally, commit murder in their own hotel. It feels far too convenient, but then again, they’d said they’d protect their group when they walked in, no murder rules aside. Which is kind of just an everywhere rule, actually.

“Holy shit,” Wendell says, awed.

Lanie laughs. “Again. You did that.”

She doesn’t know how she knows that, or even if it’s true, but he smiles in response, a little proud, a little shocked, and something warm fizzles in her chest.

Liv, on the other hand, looks more downtrodden, slumping out of Kingskin’s ramrod straight posture. Her halberd sits loosely in her hand, resting against the floor. Lanie attempts to process this, connect the dots that feel way too far apart. She doesn’t get a chance to before one of the clown guys pops up from the floor, apparently not completely dead, and Liv brings the halberd down right across his neck. There’s a grin on her face as she does. A subconscious shiver runs down Lanie’s spine.

“Holy shit,” she echoes, barely above a whisper. Wendell nods slowly, eyes wide.

Never Stop Blowing Up is not a slow paced film. It’s quite possibly been the most insane god-knows-how-many hours of her entire life. She’s committed several crimes by this point. And she doesn’t know if it’s because they’re just standing around, for the moment, or if it’s everything crashing down at once, or what, but this feels like far too much. Like they’ve crossed some sort of invisible line she hadn’t even known existed.

Don’t get her wrong, she’s not upset about the series of events that have led up to now. She’s just… having an adrenaline crash, it seems. Not the greatest time, all things considered.

Liv leans down, tosses Wendell his dynamite, which he fumbles with for just a moment. Something feels like it clicks in the back of Lanie’s mind, but she’s far too out of it to know what. Or care what, for that matter. She would love to get out of the room with several dead bodies. Maybe even find the rest of their friends.

“Are you feeling okay?” Liv asks, her brows furrowed.

It takes Lanie longer than it should to realize the question is directed at her. “Never better,” she says, and the slur of her speech immediately contradicts it.

Neither of them seem to believe her.

“Right,” Liv says, audibly holding back a laugh.

Wendell loops an arm over her shoulders, and she leans in on instinct, only then remembering that Cara’s 5’4 on a good day and not Lanie’s comfortable 5'10. She’s never had to lean against him like this — never been able to, really, they’re about the same height. It’s weird. She’s also not completely upset about the whole situation.

Liv’s hand — Kingskin’s, really, but Lanie cannot find it in herself to care enough to differentiate the two right now — darts out, then retracts, like she can’t quite figure out what to do with it. There’s a dazed sort of look in her eyes, which might be bold coming from Lanie, who is notably drunk off her ass right now, but the fact that it’s there at all is… a little concerning. Then again, a bunch of shit just happened in the span of maybe half an hour, more emotionally taxing than anything else they’ve done so far.

Mostly it’s just been explosions. These are like… mental explosions. Or something smarter than that. Again, her brain is not in her head right now.

They make it back to the lobby, eventually, and Lanie has to blink to reprocess the deep purples and bright pinks scattering across the room. For a moment, the only coherent thought that comes to mind is holy shit they’ve got bisexual lighting this place fucking rules. And then Liv snorts next to her, and she realizes it is not just a thought.

She likes making Liv laugh, though. She’s gorgeous when she does, when her eyes sparkle and her lips curl into a smile to create the most beautiful sound Lanie’s ever heard. It’s even better when she doesn’t pretend, when her eyes fall shut and her head tilts back and she grins like nobody’s watching, and it’s breathless and melodious and if Lanie could play it on repeat every day she would for the rest of her life. It doesn’t happen often, but Lanie’s pretty damn funny. She’s heard it enough to make it count for something.

At some point in the process of being too gay about her friend’s laugh, she’s been handed off to said friend, Liv’s hand warm where it rests tentatively on her back. Lanie blinks up at her, which is also new — god, someone should teach Cara about platforms, or, like, inserts, or something — but also not a terrible thing. She kind of understands why girls go for taller guys.

“Wendell went to go get water,” Liv explains quietly.

Lanie stares at her, eyes no doubt strangely wide and pathetic if the way she feels is any indication, processing the information. Her brain is currently the equivalent of Internet Explorer right now, so it takes a moment, but eventually she nods, and Liv lets out a sigh of what might be relief.

“Anyone ever tell you you’re really pretty?” Lanie says suddenly, because she needs Liv to know, and sure, it’s a little weird saying it to Kingskin, but it feels like if she squints enough, tilts her head, she can almost see Liv herself in there. “Cause you are.”

Liv coughs, flushes a shade of red that only proves Lanie’s point. “Um. Thanks!” She sounds strained, but not upset. “You’re, uh. You too. You’re also… really pretty. And cool. And, uh.”

She cuts herself off, glances away, scratches her cheek. The words send a thrill up Lanie’s spine anyway.

There’s the hint of a smile on Liv’s face, though. Lanie tries not to think about that too hard before she spirals. It’s pretty simple — there’s a paper airplane flying out the window, and she slips out of Liv’s grip to follow it, ignoring her protests. Her brain tracks movement and bright colors and pretty much nothing else. It’s not entirely her fault for getting distracted.

Someone bumps into her, as to be expected in such a crowded building, but they seem to do a double take, which is less expected.

“La— Cara?” Russell’s voice says, distant, and Lanie turns to see Jennifer Drips, in all her glory. He stares at her in confusion, which slowly morphs into more concern than she thinks is warranted. “Are you… good?”

Why do people keep asking her that? “Feeling great,” she says, attempting to lean on the nearest table. There is no nearest table.

Russell catches her before she can completely tip over, sets her upright. “Lanie,” he says, worryingly serious, “what happened to you?”

She pauses. That is… a very good question, actually. “Uh. Wendell ‘n Liv—”

“Didn’t do anything,” Wendell interrupts out of nowhere, his voice at an octave she didn’t know voices could hit. “Nothing happened. She’s drunk.”

He passes her the water. She stares at the cup, then back up to him. Raises an eyebrow teasingly. Grins when he becomes obviously flustered.

“You do care,” she says smugly. It doesn’t come out as smooth as she would like, but it gets the point across.

“Yeah, well.” He gestures vaguely at nothing. “I’m going to go, uh. Talk to Liv. At the— at the blood rave. If you… wanted to come.”

Lanie considers this, deeper than perhaps the situation requires. She shakes her head. “I think— I’m gonna chill with Russell. We’re buddies. Besties. Pals. Uh.”

Wendell gives her a look she doesn’t think she could decipher if she were sober. “Right. Well, uh. Don’t die?” he offers. Glances up to Russell. “Please make sure she doesn’t die.”

“Sure thing,” Russell says, amused. “Have fun.”

“Love you!” Lanie calls at Wendell’s retreating figure. She turns back around before she can see him stumble so hard he nearly faceplants.

Russell definitely sees it, but doesn’t comment on it, just looks at Lanie, expectant and amused. “So, what did you say is happening with them?”

She lights up at that, grins, because she loves to gossip and she loves to talk about her friends. “They’re, like, making out in the blood rave or whatever. I dunno. So—”

“I’m sorry,” Russell interrupts, and he does genuinely look apologetic. Ignoring the fact he’s obviously trying not to laugh. “The what?”

“You know.” Lanie shrugs. They all know about the blood rave, duh. “The blood rave. I dunno. Not my business. They almost kissed, Russell. ‘N I was just kinda… there. In the middle.”

Rest in peace to Russell’s brain for trying to figure out what the fuck she’s talking about right now. Godspeed, soldier. She can see him connecting the dots, and waits patiently for him to do so — it’s not that complicated, really. Why is everyone so confused about all this?

“So— hang on.” Russell actually sits down on the ground, which is kind of weird considering how many chairs there are here, but Lanie just follows suit because standing is getting tiring, actually, and her feet are starting to hurt. “What do you mean in the middle?”

Lanie huffs petulantly, like a toddler. “We played craps, ‘n the french fry fucker had Wendell’s MacGuffin, so we bet on it, and it was either that or he ‘n Liv kissed. We… didn’t win. It was so bad, Russell.”

“The kiss?”

“No— well. Maybe?” She considers that, then shrugs. “I dunno. I wasn’t part of that. I was just… in the middle. Literally.”

Russell stares at her, Jennifer’s piercing gaze boring into her soul. She doesn’t entirely blame him, this time. Her brain was just as foggy in the moment.

“So no one actually kissed.” It’s a statement more than anything, as if he’s processing everything. “And you’re… okay with that?”

She shrugs again. “I like being the guy in the middle. ‘M not that worried about it.”

She’s surprised to find she really means it when she says it. Anyone with eyes can tell she’s absolutely down bad for her best friends slash coworkers slash multiple question marks at this point, but she’s genuinely never really expected it to go anywhere. Especially now that Liv seems to return Wendell’s feelings, even if she’s not completely aware of it herself. Sometimes Lanie uses the only two psychology classes she ever took for good.

Russell frowns, which confuses her, because she’s not upset about any of this. “But you’re into both of them.”

Jesus fuck, why is this a conversation she’s having with a coworker nearly thirty years older than her?

Because she’s drunk and no one else will listen to her, most likely. And anyway, Russell’s initiating at least seventy percent of it, so it’s not entirely her fault. Just mostly.

“‘S like… imagine a tricycle,” she says, only half sure of where the metaphor is going. “Three wheels. Two of them are in the front, and then there’s the one in the back. The two are like… bonded or whatever. Besties. Lovers. Worse. I dunno.

“You can’t get, like, stability without the third one, though,” she explains. Her eyes feel less dry than they were a minute ago, and when she reaches up to rub at them her hand comes back tear streaked. Huh. “It’s there for emotional support, or something. And it doesn’t mind being at the back, ‘cause how else do you get to see the other two?”

“That’s…” Russell trails off. “I don’t think tricycles are set up like that.”

Okay, so it’s not a perfect metaphor. Sue her.

Lanie groans, probably a little overdramatic. “Shut up, I’m making points. You get it.”

He smiles like he just might. “That makes a lot of sense, though, Lanie. I just think maybe you haven’t been paying close enough attention.”

And then, like he hasn’t just casually dropped a bombshell like that on her, he pats her shoulder before standing up and wandering off. She thinks she sees him with Usha, but she’s too busy staring at the ground and trying to refocus her brain as she runs through every interaction she’s ever had.

It doesn’t go well, not at the moment. Later, though — later, they’ll end up on a speedboat to the Amazon, and Lanie will squeeze herself between Liv and Paula and shiver in nothing but a tank top. Later, they’ll end up in Alaska first, and she’ll throw up off the side of the boat when Usha takes over driving, and Wendell will quietly confess that he and Liv didn’t kiss the night before.

Later, Liv will run off, and they’ll find out about Dave, and they’ll storm the White House when it flies away, and a million other things will happen that Lanie won’t comprehend at the time, much less afterwards.

Later — much, much later — they’ll have time. Time to choose, time to talk, time to figure things out.

For now, Lanie passes out in the middle of the floor until Dang nudges her awake with his foot and dreams about almost kisses that aren’t an almost.

[resident-rats]

Okay like,,, right now the fic I’m writing is sitting at 11.5k words

[oddinary4bts]

Did somebody say

Drabble? 👀

Where is this going to be placed in the story?

HELL YEAH

It’s going to be the evening with jk’s friends in jk’s pov!! I have just finished writing it so I’m going to reread and quickly edit and then post it! So expect to be seeing it today😎

[three-bunnies-in-a-trenchcoat]

I think I could reread the entirety of orv in like two weeks if I really tried