#I ASKED MY ROOMMATE AND THEY JUST SAID “SCARECROW”

[goth-in-gotham]

Me waking up at 2 am at my first night in Gotham to sirens and my roommate calmly pulls a GAS MASK from under her bed

[serpentpoet]

fear is the teacher. the first one you've ever had. pt. 2

Pt. 1 here!

The first few days of the internship at Arkham went without incident; Lily’s job consisted of filling out whatever paperwork Dr. Crane was too busy handling patients for and brainstorming how she was going to assemble her proof that he was actually the Scarecrow. Dr. Crane didn’t say much to her at all. Occasionally he’d look up from his papers and glance at her when she’d clocked in, but some days he didn’t even acknowledge her presence. She’d walk into the filing room and find a stack of papers waiting for her as her work for the day. Lily knew that, although he was quiet, he was going to be decidedly dangerous, and that she would have to be extremely cautious about how she was going to approach turning him in to the Gotham City Police.

The difficulty of the task to Lily, which really wouldn’t seem that otherwise monumental, was that she wasn’t employed by the GCPD and would need solid evidence for them to take her seriously. Ever since her roommate had been assaulted with some kind of toxic gas on the street by the masked Scarecrow (Lily didn’t get much sleep anymore because of her roommate’s constant terrors about that night), she had been determined to catch the man responsible for the crime. She found it oddly lucky, and somewhat questioned how much of it was pure coincidence, that her research had led her to an internship in her own field under Jonathan Crane.

“You look tired today, Ms. McKenna. Sleeping well?” Dr. Crane’s voice caused Lily to jump a little, and she shut the door to the office behind her. This was the first time he’d spoken to her directly in days.

“Um, no, not really, actually,” Lily responded. Dr. Crane sat back in his chair and cocked an eyebrow.

“Oh?”

“My roommate…she doesn’t sleep well,” Lily responded, standing by the door, unsure if she should make a quick, polite exit to the filing room or continue the conversation. She didn’t like the way Dr. Crane felt like he could see right through her, even though she knew there was no possible way that he could know what she was up to.

“Your roommate?”

“Yeah, um, Chloe. She has bad night terrors,” Lily said. Dr. Crane smirked.

“And have you tried psychoanalyzing her?” he asked. Lily felt a hot blush creep up her neck onto her cheeks.

“Go on. Sit,” Dr. Crane gestured to the seat in front of his desk, and Lily sat down across from him. She looked anywhere else in the room but at him. His eyes bore into her.

“You’ve been here several days now and not said a word to me. Why do we think that is?” Dr. Crane asked. Lily flicked her eyes over to him. He twiddled a pen in between his fingers. His cold, long fingers. She tried hard not to think about the way they felt when she’d hand him his morning coffee and that he’d let his fingers brush hers for a few seconds too long.

“Honestly, sir, I didn’t want to bother you,” Lily said. Dr. Crane exhaled a laugh.

“Are you scared of me?” Dr. Crane taunted.

“No,” Lily said. Dr. Crane continued looking at her, not believing her.

“You know, I usually make a…point to get to know my interns,” Dr. Crane said. “But you seem so shy. I want to get to know you, Lily. It’ll make us work better together.”

Lily mustered a smile. “What do you want to know about me?”

Dr. Crane laced his fingers on his desk and leaned forward.

“Everything,” he said, quiet and low. “But first, what made you choose psychology as a profession? Bad childhood?” He smirked.

“No, I had a great childhood, actually. I’m an only child, so I had lots of time with my parents,” Lily said. “I’m just really interested in the subconscious mind, I guess. What’s buried beneath that we can tap into or explore. What’s trapped down there that people don’t let out.”

“What we’re not admitting to ourselves?” Dr. Crane asked, the corner of his mouth flicking upwards. Lily felt the heat rush to her cheeks again. She saw amusement in Dr. Crane’s eyes.

“Yeah,” Lily said. A pause. Dr. Crane sighed and thought.

“I see. What is your class currently studying?” he asked, interested. She felt herself need to break away from his gaze, so she looked down at his tie instead. She hesitated to answer.

“We started the semester studying fear, actually. We’re studying attraction now, sir. The physicality of it, to be specific,” Lily felt like she wanted the ground to swallow her whole as she said this. She could almost feel Dr. Crane’s amusement at her squirming under his questioning.

“Fascinating. The body can tell us so much about what the mind is thinking. A direct look inside the head of another. We have natural subconscious responses to people we find attractive. Pupils dialating, fidgeting with hair and clothes, shyness, either eye contact or an extreme lack of it….blushing.” He put extra pointed emphasis on the last word. Lily nodded, feeling like the room had gone up a couple of degrees. He continued to stare through her.

“Yeah…we’re studying all of that,” Lily said quietly. The pause that followed was almost insufferable. Dr. Crane seemed to enjoy making the conversation as pointed and uncomfortable as possible. Lily took a moment to reach her hand in her jacket pocket as slow and subtly as possible and press the record button on a small tape player she’d brought.

“Would you say you’re a person who keeps secrets?” Dr. Crane asked, breaking the quiet tension.

“If you’re asking if I’m dishonest, sir, I can promise you I do honest work for you,” Lily said, jumping and taken aback by the sudden question.

“Oh, but Lily, that’s not what I asked, now is it? You’re smarter than that. I asked if you’re a person who keeps secrets,” Dr. Crane said flatly.

“If it’s important to me, then yes, I suppose,” Lily said, unsure of where Dr. Crane was going with this conversation.

“And would you say that you’re being honest with your answers right now to me?” he asked.

“Yes,” Lily answered. She swallowed hard. Dr. Crane cocked his head to the side.

“Hmm. Good,” was all that he answered.

“You said your thesis was on fear?” she asked, thinking of something, anything to change the topic of conversation and to get the ball rolling on collecting her finalized proof. Dr. Crane seemed to break out of his trance, sitting up a little straighter in his seat.

“Yes,” he replied.

“What did you discover?” Lily asked, determined to appear to be friendly and asking him questions about himself as well.

“How breakable the mind truly is. Like I told you the first day, Lily, the mind is a fragile little thing. How easy it truly is to get inside of it. To create fear, or at least, the illusion of it. And then, once it’s created, to control it. To learn to fight it,” Dr. Crane seemed to note the confusion on Lily’s face.

“You can learn to completely control fear?” Lily asked. “So you’re not scared of anything at all?”

Dr. Crane shook his head, disappointed in her answer. “No, not so that you’re not scared of anything at all. Fear is a good thing. It keeps us alive. My research goes towards helping others conquer their biggest fears.” Lily stayed silent.

“I’ll prove it to you. What’s your biggest fear?” Dr. Crane asked.

Lily shifted in her seat.

“If I had to really think about it, probably a complete and total loss of control….I guess an example of a situation like that would be being kidnapped…?” Lily answered, trying to appear to be thoughtfully considering her response. Dr. Crane shifted slightly. Lily felt herself get a chill down her neck.

“Kidnapped?” Dr. Crane asked. “Interesting. By a man?”

Lily felt her crossed thighs grow slick with sweat and kept her hands in her pockets.

“Yes,” she responded.

“And would you say that being exposed to that fear and then proving you can conquer it would help cure you of it?”

“Like some kind of twisted form of extreme exposure therapy?” Lily asked, scrunching her brows in confusion. Dr. Crane nodded.

“Exactly that, Lily,” Dr. Crane replied, smiling.

“I mean, maybe. I don’t know. Exposure therapy’s kind of iffy, in my opinion. What if it made the fear worse, or even caused PTSD in a patient?” Lily asked.

“I will admit, some people in this profession might consider my practices to be a little…unorthodox. Some would go so far as to accuse me of being unethical. But I believe things like extreme exposure therapy have produced some truly fascinating results. You would never believe what the mind is capable of,” Dr. Crane said, smirking.

“Hmm,” Lily replied.

“You should talk more, Lily. I’d love to hear the rest of the thoughts in your head,” he said. Lily flushed, and thought the way he phrased it was strange, but brushed it off. She knew it was better to stay silent and guarded, especially now that she was convinced that he was a dangerous criminal. She hoped she’d actually hit the record button on the tape recorder.

“I better get started on my work for today,” Lily said, standing up. Dr. Crane nodded stiffly, agreeing. He didn’t say another word to her, going back to writing on the stack of papers in front of him. Lily slipped into the adjacent filing cabinet room and shut the door, breathing out a sigh of relief she didn’t know she’d been holding.

Lily sat down at the table and pulled out the tape recorder, shaking and relieved that she had been recording the whole time. She took out a pair of headphones from her bag and plugged them in to relisten to the conversation.

“Pupils dialating, fidgeting with hair and clothes, shyness, either eye contact or an extreme lack of it….blushing,” Lily felt her heart clutch nervously at Dr. Crane’s teasing words and skipped quickly ahead through the tape.

“Like I told you the first day, Lily, the mind is a fragile little thing. How easy it truly is to get inside of it. To create fear, or at least, the illusion of it,” Lily paused. She rewound the tape.

“To create fear, or at least, the illusion of it.”

Lily took off the headphones, realizing: the toxin that the Scarecrow had used on Chloe, the night terrors she consistently had since then, all of it was connected; the Scarecrow—or at this point she thought she should be considering him as Dr. Crane, was sitting just outside the door, and he’d created something that could induce extreme fear in others. For all Lily knew, he could very well have whatever toxin this was with him at that very moment. Lily knew what she had to do, what she was going to do as the last and final piece of evidence that would get Dr. Crane locked up in the very building in which they both sat.

She was going to find it and steal it.

[elliemarchetti]

right in the feels, where you reside

My entry for Momo's Unofficial Snapetober. I wanted to write something short, and at the same time cover all the prompts, so here we are, with the saddest drabble I could came up with.

Plot: something reminds Severus of Lily

Words: 729

With the arrival of autumn, the foliage of the Forbidden Forest was tinged in shades of yellow and orange, with a few brushstrokes of the same shade of red as Lily's hair. The harvest from Hagrid's pumpkin patch had been plentiful, and the smell of stews, breads and creams was carried through the maze of corridors all the way down to the dungeons were Severus held his lessons. Soon the tables of the Great Hall, above which the first bats already fluttered, would be filled with steaming mushroom soups, caramelized apples, and a dozen other seasonal delicacies that the ghosts roaming the castle weren’t able to savour anymore. It happened every year: once the elves started to get creative, the dead bemoaned to the tired students climbing the steep flight of stairs how much they missed a hot meal and the feeling of warm water on their skin. With their glassy gazes, they reminded everyone how lucky they were to have a family waiting for them at home, and with their perpetual whisper, they reiterated how ephemeral all the worries tormenting the minds of young wizards were in face of the eternal rest. Paradoxically, they always had the opposite effect on Severus: he had no loving parents to return to, and his worries could turn into a matter of life and death depending on the whims of that filthy murderer. The Dark Lord had always defined his plans as a quest for unlimited power, but it wasn’t necessary to know how to talk to serpents and read the future in smoky crystal balls to understand it was now just a personal revenge. If someone managed to deliver Potter in his hands, the child would be nothing more than cannon fodder, a soulless, tortured body to parade around to prevent insurrection. The fear of saying his name would no longer be just a superstition, but a way to invoke his masked followers, who like spiders left to breed uncontrolled for too long would cover the wizarding world in a web of hatred and discrimination. When Severus was Harry’s age, when he still explored the paths around Hogwarts with eyes full of wonder, those weren’t the kind of thoughts he harboured. His younger self, though hardly carefree, delighted in the invention of new spells, in perfecting potions texts, and playing guessing games with his only friend. A flash of remembrance made its way to the surface, escaping from the meanders into which he had thrust all those moments which now more than ever had a bittersweet taste.

The Gryffindors had organized a costume party, an event open only to members of their house that would take place after the Halloween dinner. Lily had been invited by her roommate, who would dress up as a scarecrow, but the beautiful redhead had declined the offer, preferring to spend her time with him. The crepuscular atmosphere gave something ethereal to her features, or perhaps it was just the aura of nostalgia for memories now distant, for moments lost forever.

“The answer is corvids,” she had said, with a satisfied smile, after a brief contemplation. “Next time you'll have to try harder, or I'll start to think you underestimate me.”

“I could never,” he replied, trying to hide the blush creeping up his cheeks at having her so close. “After all, you are the brightest witch of your age.”

He almost vomited hearing Sirius Black call Miss Granger that way. No one could compare to Lily, and if he loved her as much as he loved her son, he should have let that compliment die with her.

“And the answer to my riddle?” she asked, moving a lock of dark hair from his forehead. “Do you know it?”

“Amphibian,” he had replied, present only in the body, for his mind was lost in wondering what she would do if he kissed her. He had heard that many in their year had already had their first kiss, and if there was anyone he wanted to share it with, it was Lily. With hindsight, and a courage he acquired only after her tragic demise, he should’ve done it, tying her to him and averting that arrogant fool to ever come near her. It was one of his many regrets, and now he could do nothing but protect her son, and prevent her memory from being lost forever.

[chainsawgirlfriend]

hmmmmm... a few questions!! what do the dimension numbers mean? whats your most recent story, and whats your oldest thats archived? and that old warrior cats fanstory! you said you repurposed it, how so ? :O ALSO! i finally got to downloading st agatha ill definitely let you know how i like it 👍👍👍 i adore indie games like it and im so hyped to play it

AAUGHH... THANK YOU!!! For the asks, and for trying St. Aggs. I owe you more than silly doodles, that's for sure. Not to give you more quests, but I would love to hear what characters you end up meeting during your gameplay :D

Also I'm so sorry, this will be Kind of A Lot but I will treasure you forever for sending me quastions <3 <3 Answers under the cut!

Also here is your corresponding art, of Thistle and Nettle to commemorate them being mentioned :) BUT I will draw something for each question you asked once I get to work tonight because HOLY HECK this means so much to me

Dimensional Numbers

Dimensions are layered on top of each other very closely, like layers of paint on a wall! The first one is Dimension 0, or the Underunder, where all energy (navitas) emanates from. As navitas slowly escapes (and eventually returns) to the Underunder, it creates life along the way.

There are the vertical layers, represented by whole numbers like 170, 2814, or 8, which are anchors for multidimensions (170.4, 2814.0009, 8.341, etc.) which are variants of their parent dimensions, and from a writing stand point for me act as canon AU's! For example, St. Agatha City, my game, is set in 714.2, because I didn't want it to disrupt the plots currently going on in plain old 714.

Basically, I just use them to keep track of things, but they also represent a potential for magic in a realm (the closer to 0, the higher the chance.) Above is a section of my ugly spread sheet I try to use to keep track of things! For some reason I decided the Simpsons is canon to my universe (????)

Oldest and Newest Works

Newest - I try VERY VERY hard not to come up with new stuff at the moment since I have so many characters and am working on St. Agatha diligently, buuut... old habits die hard!

These are the newest characters of mine! They were in a dream I had and I got attached to them. The ratgirl, Naomi, was a human who was spliced into a rat to be studied by some dipshit mad scientist with a complex, and the guy with auburn hair on the left is Brennan, the son of the scientist, who is being pressured by his father into being involved with the experiments. Clearly reluctant, Naomi opportunistically attempts to befriend Brennan in the hopes that he would help her escape down the line.

VERY silly story that isn't in line with my usual works, but these guys haunt me!

The oldest thing archived are the dog characters I drew in elementary school, but that's not really a story so I don't think they count. The oldest story I currently have on Toyhouse is probably Nightworld or Zombie Lane, both of which were made in 2012!

Zombie Lane is about Ivy Kohen, a little weirdo with no useful life skills, accidentally becoming the center of the world's most convoluted reverse-harem! Despite this premise I am still very fond of the entire cast, and I think it holds up!

Nightworld is about a young autistic girl getting isekai'd to another dimension and then getting microwaved by the background radiation of the universe as she grows up on an alien planet, with her three roommates - hotdog vendor scarecrow, a bird man, and a sentient cloud of space-time continuum contained in an orange turtleneck sweater!

Warrior Cats

YEAH SORRY I lied. I MEANT to repurpose it, temporarily did, and then hated that and put them back in Warrior Fan Clan territory! they will have their moment... eventually. I don't want to leave these characters behind in fanon forever!

[mojo-oyedeji]

Boom!

BOOM!

George looked up from the wires of the disassembled phone that lay in front of him. He had concentrated to finally crack its hard, plastic outer shell, but now his focus had shattered like the glass of the screen.

He glared at the door of his dorm room.

“Dammit, Cass! What did you do?”

His roommate, Cassius, ran into the room with dirty grey spots all over his face. George noticed it looked suspiciously like ash. Some of it coated his hair, turning it from light brown to almost black. All the hair product he had put into it earlier in the morning for school to tame it was gone.

George thought he looked very much like a scarecrow. A spooked one.

“Something accidentally blew up,” Cassius said, slamming the door behind him. “It wasn’t me though.”

George crossed his arms. “Then who was it?”

“I don’t know.”

“Cass—”

“Who even says ‘dammit’?” Cassius wondered. He played up his London accent for this bit.

“You’re so American.”

George rolled his eyes. “Shut up.”

A stern male voice echoed through the halls of their school house.

“Cassius Grey!” Their assistant house parent, Flint Lockhurst bellowed. “Get down to this kitchen at once!”

Cassius’ mouth went into a small ‘o’, before he swore and bolted towards his wardrobe and shut himself in.

“George, you have to hide me!” He said, his voice muffled by the thick oak wood the door was made out of.

George groaned and face-palmed.

“I hate you.”

Careful to be light on his toes, George kicked the phone pieces firmly under the heavy wooden desk and plucked a red leather-bound book off of his shelf. The name, written on the spine in gold letters, was Marceline. The cursive style reminded him of his aunt; a tall, airy and rich Englishwoman, who introduced him to classics like the one he just picked up.

He settled himself into bed right on top of his dark brown, fluffy duvet, and opened Marceline to about three-fourths of the way through. If the plan to make him look studious was to be believable, he had to pretend.

I’ll just read the rest later, he thought.

He waited in faux contemplative silence until Mr. Lockhurst’s heavy footsteps paused for a moment outside his dorm room. A loud crack sounded before the door was forced open.

“Evening, Mr. Lockhurst,” he said, calmly, as if Lockhurst hadn’t just kicked a hole in his door.

Lockhurst was not-so-affectionately called ‘the Ogre’ by three-fourths of the boys in his house, Pendleton. Lockhurst had a chest the length of two wooden barrels, a head the size of a massive basketball—it was also completely bald, and it reflected all the light wherever he went to blinding proportions. He had massive tree-trunk-like arms and legs, and he was six-foot-four.

He sneered at George, his eyes bulging, face red, and teeth yellow.

“Do you want me to tell you about my book?” he asked with a touch of fake innocence. “It’s a rather riveting tale of—"

“Where. Is. Cassius?” Mr. Lockhurst punctuated each word with a grunt.

“I don’t know.” George took a breath. “Sir.”

“You liar!” he yelled. For such a big man, Lockhurst moved fast. Before George knew it, his house wear, a black t-shirt with blue sleeves and the school crest sewn on the left of his chest, was bunched up in Lockhurst’s hand by the neck.

Lockhurst shook him like a ragdoll and yelled in his face once again. George winced as he felt the full force of Lockhurst’s hot garlic breath right in his face, and droplets of angry spittle landed on his cheeks.

“I’m not lying,” he said, calmly. “He ran in here first and then ran off.”

“To where!”

George took a deep breath and closed his eyes. A flash of annoyance went through him.

“I don’t know,” he forced out through his teeth. “Now let go.”

George gripped Mr. Lockhurst’s thick wrist and twisted. The older man yowled in pain and dropped George onto the ground. He landed with a loud ‘oof’, right on his bottom.

“You…” Mr. Lockhurst spat. His eyes bulged further. He looked like he was going to burst. “You… Reynolds! I’ll get you!”

Lockhurst lunged towards George again, but suddenly, Cassius burst out of his wardrobe with a loud war cry.

“Yah!”

He jumped on Lockhurst’s back and sent them both tumbling to the hard and unforgiving blue carpeted floor of the room, with Cassius sprawled on Lockhurst’s back. He reached back, grabbed Cassius by his shirt and threw him to the ground. Lockhurst rose his fist over Cassius’s head, but George gave him a heavy kick to the head before he could swing.

Lockhurst collapsed on his back in a heaving, wheezing mess. His skin was red, and his eyes bulged. Veins were visible underneath his skin.

He screamed, and then exploded into a ball of pink, flesh-coloured confetti. There was no blood, nor gore.

George groaned. “We broke Lockhurst again! Look what you did!”

“Relax, yeah?” Cassius said. “We can put him back together.”

“The whole house probably heard.”

“Yeah, and they’ll probably thank us. No Lockhurst for a week.”

“But we’ll still have to answer to Mr. Isely-Lyle.”

“Don’t get your knickers in a twist,” Cassius drawled in his London accent. “We’ll be fine.”

“If you get me in trouble…”

“No trouble. I owe you.”

[ravenclaw-daydreams]

𝐚𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐝𝐨𝐭𝐞: 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐝𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐜𝐫𝐨𝐰 (𝟏/?)

𝐣𝐨𝐧𝐚𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐧 𝐜𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐞 𝐱 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

Warnings: mention of mature content, language, college life, creepy boys, a hot professor, fear toxin, mature themes

Summary of Chapter: After the tragic passing of Y/N's former psychology professor, she is introduced to Jonathan Crane, the newest doctor now embarking on a path to education. She also happens to have a frightening encounter with the fearsome Scarecrow.

A/N: I'm so excited for you guys to read and I hope that you enjoy it! Jonathan Crane is one of my favorite characters in the DC universe, I hope this will convince you to like him too!

Finally, at last, Y/N seemingly collapsed in her chair, exhausted from the early morning commute from her apartment to GSU's lecture hall, the morning being hectic anyways because her roommate Maggie decided to do a late-night cleaning session, successfully hiding Y/N's keys and hairbrush, the two demolishing Mag's hard work searching for them.

Not to mention the buzz around the new professor that was going to be teaching your course, your last professor passing tragically in yet another instance of Gotham crime. Mugging gone wrong was the verdict. They had yet to find the person who did it.

But the buzz was rather about who was taking the poor dead professor's place. A man with a doctrine and held in high regard in the ranks of Gotham's political and economic jungle.

Y/N couldn't help but listen in on the two girls behind her, going on about how cute they heard he was. A quick google search was enough to get them going, his pictures being taken for Gotham's most popular news sources for his achievements in this field.

The sudden thunk of a book landing on the table right next to her was enough to make Y/N snap out of it, jolting in her chair out of surprise, her gaze whipping up to the culprit.

"So. What do you think the new professor's going to be like?"

"Well, good morning to you too, Arthur," Y/N tiredly grumbled, pinching the bridge of her nose, her friend's new hobby in book slamming not helping her splitting headache.

"Heard he's a doctor. Spends a lot of time at Arkham Asylum. What is he doing around college students then?" Arthur quipped, sitting down as Y/N took out her laptop.

"Well, if you think about it, us college kids aren't that different from the crazies they got locked up in there," she tried to joke, her motor running low, but for Arthur, she would put in an effort.

"I guess we'll just have to see," he shrugged before setting up his own notes.

The sudden slam of the lecture hall's door brought everyone's attention to the figure now sauntering through it, a briefcase in tow, dressed in a sharp black suit and a dusty blue tie, glasses resting on his nose as he walked up to the front of the lecture hall, immediately looking at the class who had all eyes on him.

"Hello, everyone. I'm your new professor, Dr. Crane," his voice was unbelievably coaxing, a pleasure to listen to, making it easier to listen to rather than a monotone voice other professors tended to use.

Turning on his heels, he made his way to the chalkboard, the whole student body having their eyes glued on him as he picked up a piece of powdery white chalk, scrawling his name in neat cursive letters across the board.

"Now, I assume all of you have received the email sent to you by the school itself, in that you will find a link to my syllabus, but I won't bore you with the details. Just skim over it is all I ask."

Arthur found himself glancing at the girl next to him, and couldn't help but roll his eyes at the concentration her eyes now held. Where was all that focus when he was talking to her just seconds prior?

"So, with that all being said, let's begin."

. . .

At least 45 minutes had gone by since Jonathan Crane turned on the projector and began flipping through slides in his newest unit, 'the psychology of phobias', explaining how the fear transmitters were created through specific chemicals in your brain along with the brains response to triggers of those phobias.

Meanwhile, Y/N was caught up in taking as many notes as she could. Something about his voice was so convincing, so intriguing, he could honestly make anything sound interesting. But he spoke with so much passion behind his voice, she could truly see that he was a man dedicated to his work.

With a flick of his wrist, Dr. Crane took a glance at his watch, his eyebrows raising as he looked back up at the class.

"Alright, I trust you all took notes on what you found to be important, so I would like a paper on this simple outline," he instructed, pointing a clicker up to the screen that changed the side, "According to research, individuals with a social phobia have a distorted view of themselves; discuss arguments for and against this."

Y/N sat up slightly as she read the prompt several times over, processing his request.

"You have two days to write the paper, and I would like to see the paper on my desk before Wednesday evening. You're all excused," he waved off the class, dismissing them as he turns his focus to his desk, sitting down as a silent confirmation he was done with them, other students taking the hint and packing up their things.

He gave dismissive smiles to everyone as they passed his desk to exit, his habit of pushing up with glasses coming into play as they started to slide ever so slightly down the bridge of his nose.

At that moment, Y/N felt like she needed to say something to her new professor, to at least make him feel slightly more welcome, seeing as nobody else did.

She suddenly paused right before his desk, his glance reaching her eyes, his own electric blue ones almost stunning her in the process.

“It was nice meeting you professor,” she managed to spit out, anxiety whisking her away before she could draw out a response, Arthur dragging her away from the new, (now speechless), psychology professor.

“Well, I guess we know why he’s known for working in the asylum. Maybe he’s the nut,” Arthur’s mood was sour as he ranted on about every flaw he saw in the poor Dr. Crane, but Y/N wasn’t listening to a bit of it.

She was too busy thinking about his eyes… those damn eyes…

. . .

Maggie was waiting for Y/N to get home like a dog waiting for it’s owner, and right as she made it through the door, the law student was already on her newest tangent on her classes and stupid things she saw on the train on her way home from commuting to school.

“Umm, hello? Earth to you, are you even listening?” Maggie waved her hand in front of Y/N’s face, snapping her out of trance she didn’t even know she was in.

“What?” She muttered, turning her attention to her roommate.

“Alright. I know that look, spill it,” Maggie pressed, giving her friend a knowing look.

“The new professor,” Y/N admitted, Maggie’s eyes immediately lighting up.

“That was today?? Oh my god, I’ve been so selfish, I should have totally asked you the second you walked through the door!” Maggie scolded herself as Y/N let out a playful scoff, “so what was he like??”

“Well, he-,”

“Wait! We can totally talk about this over dinner! I heard there was a new restaurant around here, I’ve been dying to try! Hold off on telling me, build suspense!” Maggie rushed to get her shoes off and her purse, and Y/N (who never got a chance to take off her shoes in the first place) were whisked out into the night.

. . .

“Oh my god, these breadsticks are heavenly,” Y/N moaned with a stuffed mouthful of the new Italian joint’s bread, Maggie conquering.

“So. What’s going on with you, teacher’s pet?” She jabbed, stuffing her face with her 3rd bread stick.

“Well, he’s just… nice to listen to. He has a nice voice. Easy to listen to, doesn’t make me wanna bash my head into the table. Can’t say that for the last guy.”

She wasn’t lying. The last professor had a monotone voice that could put anyone to sleep, needless to say not many people did to well in his class on account of the whole class period being practically a nap period.

“Ooo, is he hot?” Maggie quipped, taking a sip of her Rosé, leaning in, obviously enthralled at the idea of a teacher/student style romance.

“I would think so,” Y/N sheepishly admitted, “I just can’t stop thinking about his eyes… it’s like he has the most interesting secrets behind them.”

“What a romantic,” Maggie laughed.

Suddenly, the door to the restaurant burst open, men in masks filing in at the rapid pace, all holding guns, scared patrons letting out screams and noises of distress.

“Everyone sit the fuck down!” A tall thug yelled out, small terrified whispers being let out into the otherwise tense air surrounding them.

A new figure walked in, something that stood no taller than 5’7, something that looked like a burlap sack placed over their face, covering and hiding their identity.

Y/N didn’t waist any time, kicking Maggie to get her attention and sink down under the table without the thugs around them noticing, hiding underneath, the table cloth working as a decent covering from the outside world.

A sudden hissing filled the women’s ears, the sound of coughs and screams sounding afterwards. A mist filtered throughout the room, both of the women harbored underneath the table instinctively covering their mouths.

Y/N held a terrified and shaking Maggie in her arms as the haze made its way under the table, the two breathing it in through the fabric covering their mouths.

They suddenly felt as if they were going through a panic attack, their stomachs dropping as if they were going straight down on a roller coaster, whimpering in fear.

Their vision became distorted, vertigo kicking in as they let out panicked screams, hyperventilating. The table cloth was suddenly yanked up as the freakish villain with the sack on his head came into view, much more terrifying than before, his voice distorted.

“There’s nothing to fear,” he spoke, pulling a screaming Maggie out of Y/N’s grasp, “But fear itself.”

A thug grasped onto her terrified roommate, the monster keeping his hold on Y/N as she squirmed, tears spilling out of her eyes as she let out cries of protest.

“Take her back to the lab. I have this one.”

For a split second, the two made eye contact, the holes in the mask seemingly revealing the windows to his soul. A needle was suddenly stuck into the side of her neck, a sedative, their eyes locked in a dangerous starring contest, before she uttered a name before her world swirled in black.

“Dr. Crane?”

[randishm]

The number three 3

Oh I was hoping for this one to be asked cause now I have a legitimate excuse not to keep them to myself anymore XD

Its a bit long and well I know it said one idea but I give you three because I cant keep them to myself anymore XD

I have 3 fanfic ideas for batjokes

One being an apocalypse type thing but I started this I believe last year back in November

I usually write down a paragraph or more plus the summary so this is the summary:

Scarecrow had sprayed a deadly gas showering the city with it creating Gothamites to turn into zombies. Batman meets up with the Joker after encountering a tough spot. And they must learn how to work together in order to save the city of  its demise. But working with a clown is easier said than done.

First paragraph: Time slowed in the moment everything went to hell, the once clear sunny day in Gotham turning a cold grey as gas spread over the city like a wildfire. Consuming the lives of innocents...

Body after body falling to the ground in a heap as blood curdled screams of terror and fear seemed to echoe endlessly through the clouds of smoke, only wishing to be heard.

Within fifteen seconds the once lively city became nothing but a ghost town….

And Batman couldn’t save anyone…

Still in the works lol but thats what I have so far xD

The second Idea is a Collage AU Ive had this sitting since the beginning of last year where Joker and Bruce are more or less eachothers wingbuddies lol

Summary: Bruce Wayne is quite popular around campus but, for all the wrong reasons. In his eyes everyone is a villain, they just hide it well within their masks of fake. When a guy named Jack, learns the billionaires ways, he becomes intrigued and decides to cause a little bit more chaos then necessary.

First paragraph: Bruce hated lectures, he detested them so. ‘Why can’t they just leave me in peace.’ he would ponder this daily. He was thinking about it while eavesdropping on his roommate, Harvey recite his lines for he's assuming that'll arise very soon. “Listen Bruce, I’m worried about you… I will be moving in with Selina soon and frankly… I am terrified! I mean who will be here when I am gone? Dicks is in the Bahamas, Alfred’s going to Hawaii! You need to find friend’s man. Open up, live a little!” Bruce could see friend reciting it like romeo and juliet.  “Now I get you see everyone is bad but, you need to get out there and show the world just who Mr. money bags is!” Ever met someone and went ‘wow I really hate you’. That was the infamous Bruce Wayne motto, everyone wanted a piece of him.

I really had to hold back the rest I have for that xD

Another one is Phantom of the opera AU I actually started working on it I don’t have a summary for it yet lol but this is the first paragraph:

It was years ago when the tragic accident took place, Selina could still remember that day vividly as she held the familiar music box in her frail hand. “Is this it-“she choked softly fighting back the tears threatening to spill from her emerald eyes. Caressing the indents that carved a bat she smiled softly as she remembered Bruce standing on that stage, his onyx locks slicked back as he belted out the lines, his chest heaving heavily in his diamond suit as the crowd cheered. Sapphire eyes gleaming against the illuminated flames below.

XD this will be a Joker as the phantom and Bruce as Christine because of the differences they have in behavior and ways lol I actually had to buy the movie off YouTube because I needed a refresh but I started writing this one XD

But I do have a fnaf sun and moon one I want to do just don't have ideas on that one yet lol I'd love to post what I have of these fics so far only problem is I'd lose interest in my other stories ^^; so I treat them more of a reward if I wait after one stories complete to keep the motivation xD

Thank you so much for asking and playing the game with me!! ❤ I hope to be able to get these out there and share them one day along with my own personal stories ^^

[chromium7sky]

The Devil wears Armani | chapter 12

A/n: I'm really sorry for the long hiatus of this au 😭. Finally got some spark about this update and I hope you guys enjoy it. Btw, guess who finally meet Raven? 😆😆

Raven finally reached her home after outing and small reunion with Karen. She remove her heels awkwardly as she yawned. It was a long night.

She tell Karen everything about what happen between her and Damian and of course minus the intimacy in his office.

-flash back-

Karen land her chin on her palm propped on the table as she listen to Raven's story. "You know, this is an interesting story though but did he knew about Melchior?"

Raven narrowed her eyes. " Why would I mention that jerk? Besides me and Damian still haven't declare about our relationship, I mean, he does flirt me back. Not to mention we did kiss..." Raven stop at the kissing part.

"Men can be complicated sometimes." She sighed as she take a bite from the cake she ordered.

"Couldn't agree more since I'm about to marry one." Karen wiggle her fingers that had betrothed ring on it.

Both designer and ex model giggled.

"I...I just hope Damian is serious about it. I'm quite invested my feeling for him." Raven chewed her lips.

"I hope so, Rachel. I hope he does." Karen smiled.

- end flashback-

Raven sighed on her bed after she change her clothes into night gown. "Gotta get some sleep because I'm going to meet him tomorrow. Should I ask again about us?"

Raven's mind wander about the golden question, her eyes start to droop as the cold night beckons her to the land of morpheus.

--------

Damian watched the E! Entertainment as he tidy up his studio to catch up any news on fashion industry then the anchorman, Josh Dirkmann said about a known designer from Europe came to town known as Melchior Draco.

"Melchior?" Damian arched his brows. Another designer in town? Maybe there's an event? And as soon as the reporter had some short interview with the silver hair gentlemen with black suit.

"So what makes you come to Gotham?" The reporter pointed the mic towards the designer.

"Well, a big company invited me to launched both of our collaboration and they said Gotham fit the aesthetic." He answered as he tug his silver hair behind his ears which earn a sneer from Damian as he watch the interview.

"Do you know Raven the designer?"

" Oh, yes. We did compete each other in Paris Fashion Show. She won first while I won second. It was a tough decision for the judges. Just so you know, between you and me, we kinda close during that time." Melchior slip out some interesting info towards the reporter.

The reporter almost gasped and demand for more answer but Melchior quickly waved away and walked towards the hotel lobby.

Damian quickly grab the remote control and closed the show.

" What do you mean close each other?" Both of his eyebrows knitted together. He closed his eyes and throw the remote at the couch. "It doesn't matter."

-------

Raven now in mess. The phone call came in nonstop just because of a statement when Melchior mention that both of them were close and the paparazzi possible sniffing out a scandal.

She sighed and landed her head on her desk. A hard knocking landed on her door makes her jolted. " Come in." As she turn her head towards the door.

Mona came in a hurry with an apologetic face. " Miss Rachel, I forgot to inform you that there will be a journalist came for your gala interview today. I'm really really sorry." Mona bow her head.

Raven stare blankly at Mona while her internal having conflict. 'First it's was Melchior statement and now interview? What...what should I do?'

Her palm start to sweat but quickly she fist up her hand. " When will be the journalist comes?"

The assistant girl check through her tablet. " In two hours."

"Who from where?"

"Jonathan Kent from Daily Planet, ma'am."

"Oh?" The same journalist who interview her winning success in fashion show. " Well, make sure escort him to my office and prepare our boarding room. Easier to execute it in there." Raven gives a stern order.

Mona nodded her head vigorously then quickly exit her room.

------------

She straighten her back as she heard a knock. She breath in. "Come in."

"Ms. Rachel!"

"Mona."

"A journalist came to meet you for Wayne's Gala interview." She gesture her hands towards a young man with curly hair and those prominent square glasses. "Mr. Jonathan Kent."

"Ah, Jonathan. Hi! It's been a while." Raven stretch her hand towards him.

Jon adjust his specs then handshake with her. "Thank you for letting me interview again , Ms. Roth." His face display his friendliness towards her.

Mona bowed her heads and quickly went out of her office. "How about we bring this interview to boarding room? More comfy?" Raven suggest about changing place.

"Yeah, you're right." Jon nodded.

Raven stood up and escort Jon to the meeting room for more proper place to interview.

She open the light switch and pull out a chair. " You can sit here."

"Ah, right, thank you." Jon smiled sheepishly as he pull the leather chair and sit, opposite with the owner of AMZ company.

" So, how long does this interview lasting?" Raven asked him as soon as she's in her seat and lean on the table with both of her hands propped on her chin.

"Well, not long, more or less 10 minutes." The journalist smile sheepishly. "Anyway..." He pull out his notebook, voice recording and a pen."Let us start with, how long you know Damian Wayne?"

"Well...since I was freshly involved in this industry, Mr Wayne offered me to promote myself at Gala." Raven calmly answer as she tried to cover Damian from being involve with fashion drawing class back in those days.

Jon then stopped the voice recording which made her jolted then adjust his specs. "You are the one who have the same class with him right?"

Raven almost gasped but she quickly act nonchalant as she tried to deny it . "Are you try to dig something from me, Mr Kent?"

"Ah, yes. Such as wanted to know more about Dami's secret girl." He smiled.

Dami? Her eyebrow arched as she heard the name. Why in the world he would address Damian that way? "You must be mistaking. We were only in term of business."

"Seriously? I thought you guys were serious." He's moping. "He did ask me about how to flirt a girl too. Man, he's really an emotional constipated." He laughed. "Besides, Dami said he haven't meet her in 3 years after he's graduated."

Raven with her eyes wide as she heard it from him. "HOW DID YOU KNOW ALL THAT?!" She quickly rised from the desk.

Jon jolted as he seen her reaction. " Ah, I guess that's why he keep a secret about his girl." Sweat drop start to rolled down on his forehead. "I'm sorry for making you uncomfortable. Let me introduce myself again."

Jon straighten his back and stretch his hand. "Hi, I'm Jonathan Kent. Dami' s childhood friend and school mate, same goes with roommate at uni and currently, a journalist." He smiled.

Raven tried to process all the information at once and it takes a few moment. "So, you are Damian's close friend?" She point out with as she narrowed her eyes.

"That's right!" Jon's smile getting wider.

"Ah, hello." She slowly put her hands on him which Jon grab it and makes a several shake as he excited to met her.

"It's really pleasure to meet you by the way! For sure if Maya and Colin knew about you they will be screaming or teasing him saying Dami has finally grown up!" He laughed.

Raven sit on her chair with unsure feeling. First the confession, then his childhood friend meet her, and then what? A wedding? She press her lips into a thin line.

"You know, Dami is not that kind of guy when it comes to women. He always thought they were hyenas." Jon chuckled.

"Hyenas?" Raven puzzled. "What's with hyenas?"

"Ever since he lives in Gotham, he always seen his father been in and out with other women who prey for money. Still, poor him having lack of parent's love." Jon sighed.

That explain why he's being hard on anyone. Raven attentively listen to Jon's story. "You know, he has pets like a zoo at his house. From cow to snakes. I remember when I came, This Alfred the cat always sulking and threaten to scratch me."

"An animal lover? That much?" Both of Raven's eyebrow jumpy as she heard it. She could imagine if Damian standing on the field, as birds will land on him, it either makes him look like Disney princess or a scarecrow.

"Most of them are animal rescue." Jon nodded.

"I see..." Then Raven suddenly remember something. "How did Damian took fashion drawing class by the way?"

"Actually we suggested to him. I mean seriously, you haven't seen his potrait and figure drawing, Those are amazing! He most likely to observe the surrounding and draw on his sketch book while on his free time."

Wait. Does that means Damian has a secret sketch book like her? Raven unconsciously put her hands on her lips.

"Still, what makes you suspect it was me? I mean we haven't contact it for a while."

"Other than he told me that he haven't met her in three years, I've seen a drawing that looks just like you at his studio." Jon smiled.

There it is.

Raven sighed and there's a slightly red tint on her ears.

"Why you haven't contact him when he's in middle east?" Jon asked curious question.

"It was because when I know that he's Damian Wayne, I..I was screwed. I mean, Wayne as in Wayne Enterprise. The biggest contributor on east side. Me? I'm just, just an orphan girl who try to rise my own feet."

"Oh?"

"My mother died when I was 14. I still don't know who were my father is and all I got is this necklace from my mother." She showed the necklace to Jon.

The young journalist seems to be fasinating with it's design. "I wonder where did your mother got this?"

Raven sighed as she try to remember. " I'm not sure. All I remember that it's been in heritage for years."

"I see." Jon rubbed his chin. "Well, Maybe you should hang up with us sometimes. I'm sure Colin and Maya would love to see you." He smiled.

"The thing is, Jon. I'm still unclear about between us." Raven chewed her lips.

"Ah nonsense, he really likes you. I can see from the way he look at you."

"Is it? Wait, where did you saw him see me?"

"I think it was two day before?"

Raven slap both of her cheeks. OH MY GOD, HE SAW BOTH OF US KISSING.

"And don't worry. I won't tell a soul, though, I've been warn by him and probably will be dig out by Colin and Maya." Jon widen his smile as sweat start to rolled down on his cheek."Dami has been my friend of more than a decade. I understand the way he express himself."

Raven nodded slowly. " Jon, a question."

"Yeah?"

"Since you are a journalist, do you know anything about Melchior?" Raven voice change to serious tone.

"That Silver Blond guy?"

"Yeah."

" I heard he's having collaboration with a big company. However, another speculation I heard that he choose Gotham because of its mysterious aesthetic."

"Well, uh, there's something I heard during interview. He claimed that we were close during the fashion show competition."

Raven as stared at the desk.

"Been wondering myself too. Are you close to him?" Jon's curious eyes start to lit.

"We do only for a while but the thing is he stole my design during that time which I never forgive myself for letting me get fooled by him." Raven sighed then she looked at Jon. "Wait. Don't tell me you're going to put this on paper?"

"Wait, I get it." Jon again propped his hand on his chin. "No wonder I've seen familiarity design between both of you. Plus you're having a hard time too."

"Uh, Jon?"

"I think I found something to investigate." Jon's mischievous smiles start to paint on his face.

"Now you act like Damian."

"Damian is more hardcore. I'm still on the average level." Jon beamed his happy face on her.

"Well, I think our interview stopped here. Besides, I need to cover some story from Me Wayne itself about the gala."

"Dami?"

"Yep."

"So, nice to meet you, Ms. Rachel Roth. It's been a pleasure talking to you."

"It's been a pleasure to spill tea with you." Raven smug.

Jon blinked then put on his mischievous smile.

-------

Somewhere in his office, Damian sneezed for no reason. " Is it me or is this office are getting colder?" He looked at the air ventilation.

[sserpente]

Pastel Blue (Chapter 5)

Synopsis: After his lucky escape, the Tesseract takes Loki on new adventures–but unfortunately, his journeys through space do not go unnoticed and he soon ends up on TVA’s radar. Working for them, albeit reluctantly, he keeps finding himself in the company of a young woman, Jess, who works in the linguistics department and who has a truly strange effect on him. Smitten by her confidence and smugness, he seeks her presence like a bee hunting for honey and lets her wreak havoc in his heart without really knowing why. But he is determined to find out. He means to escape this godforsaken place anyway.  

Find all chapters on my masterlist! (Unfortunately, Tumblr will not display my recent posts if I add a link.)

It almost felt like no time at all. Had one whole week really passed already since Loki had accommodated himself in her unit? In the books, the characters who had to share a room usually fell in love by the end of the story or, even better, they had some mind-blowing sex and then ended up together, and yet all she had done was play with her vibrator like it would be taken away from her the next morning for good.

But unlike any of the mischief and the chaos she had expected, Loki was a rather pleasant roommate. He was respectful, calm, tidy… and she doubted he had ever entered her room without her permission. Unless, of course, he had done so in her absence.

Jess gnashed her teeth, her eyes fixed on her brown hair in the mirror. Ariana had found this lovely youth magazine in the nineties yesterday, one that had already been thrown in the bin. The only reason she had taken it was because the cover showed a blue phone booth with Paul McGann as the Eighth Doctor on the cover. Jess had spent all morning skimming through it, reading the headline article as well as chuckling about the gossip and the ads—even though some of them were rather sexist.

At some point, she found a double page on fancy hairstyles for women and now struggled to copy one of the elegant braids to spice up her own hair. Thus far, she had been failing miserably, flinching with a grunt when Loki opened the bathroom door. He tilted his head upon seeing her sitting on the edge of her bathtub with her tongue sticking out a little and her fingers entangled in her brown hair.

“Yes?”

“I meant to get washed but clearly, you are occupied in here.”

Jess huffed, flinging the hair tie into the sink. “I’ve been trying to braid my hair. Like this, look!” She pointed at the magazine. The woman in the picture looked like it had taken her five minutes to create this look, and they’d had the audacity to rate this style ‘quick and easy’.

Loki chuckled. “You look like a scarecrow.”

“Why, thank you.” She rolled her eyes. “You can take your shower, I give up on this.” She said.

His sigh surprised her. “Allow me.”

“What?” Jess’ reply was all but a chirp but Loki had already approached her and fetched the hair tie from the sink. The braid was indeed a simple one, and as he stood behind her to part her hair for her, he had to refrain from letting her know just how soft it felt.

He had often braided his mother’s hair as a child. It was an activity that had calmed him down whenever Thor and his friends had made fun of how fond he was of books and preferred to use his mind and tricks rather than raw strength in play fights. The hand movements he was so familiar with that he had no need to look. Instead, he met Jess’ eyes in the mirror. She swallowed, and for a brief moment, he found himself remembering the whimpers coming from her bedroom at night.

Quickly, he averted his gaze again, parting her hair to reveal the earrings dangling down her earlobes. They shimmered in the artificial light of the bathroom. He had never seen her without them, come to think of it.

“They are moonstones.” She said when she noticed his glance. His finger brushed against her left earring once more, making it swing a little. “M got them for me on my birthday. The stone is said to soothe emotional instability and stress, and to stabilise emotions.” After all, her own parents were unlikely to buy her birthday presents anymore. “He asked me to always wear them… that they would protect me from evil.”

Loki hummed. He was familiar with the healing properties of moonstones. They were rather common on Asgard too. Only it made him wonder why Mobius would be so keen on her keeping them on at all times.

“Do you truly believe that?”

She shrugged. “I choose to.”

His fingertips brushed against the soft skin of her neck and he sucked in a deep breath. Jess’ lips parted. She was indeed a beautiful woman, was she not? Loki pondered if she was aware of just how alluring she was. How delectable she sounded when she came undone, believing so naïvely that he was unable to hear the fun she had with herself.

Lust flared up in his blue eyes, his fingers caressing her neck once more, and him braiding her hair all of a sudden turning into a subtle excuse to touch her over and over, to explore what their physical connection meant to him. Then it hit him. The inexplicable tension between them was indeed sexual too.

It was perfect, was it not? If Jess desired him, in whatever way she imagined to… then perhaps he could make use of her attraction, especially as this meant that he too would get to blatantly act on those carnal needs simmering right beneath the surface of his very core. He could not possibly trust her beyond that.

“There.” He announced, finishing up the braid by tying the loose ends together with her hair tie. She looked exactly like the model in the magazine now—only Loki had done an even better job. Jess swallowed once more, wishing, subconsciously, that he would touch her one last time. When he stepped away from her instead, she came to suppress a disappointed whimper.

“M is, um… you’ll be sent to a different unit next week.” She said, breaking the oddly peaceful but palpable silence between them.

“Am I?”

“Yeah. Reese recovered well, I mean, that’s what M told me. He will take over after the party.”

“What party?”

Jess stood, clutching the sink behind her for support—Loki did not fail to notice how flustered she was now, almost as if him braiding her hair had intensified whatever it was she felt for him. It had been a long time since he had last had to think this way upon meeting someone of the opposite sex, let alone a mortal woman.

“Dave is celebrating his anniversary this weekend. It’s a big deal here at the TVA, much more important than birthdays. M didn’t tell you about it, then.” She concluded.

Loki shook his head slowly and decided to give her a smirk. Her reaction, blood biting at her cheeks, pleased him. “I’d dare say I am not invited to your silly festivities.”

“M is thinking about it. About inviting you, I mean. And I guess you could… use a break from all… this. Besides, apart from security, everyone will be drunk by midnight. Lots of snacking and dancing…”

Loki rolled his eyes. He had already hated these kinds of parties back on Asgard. Fandral would shamelessly flirt with three women at once, Volstagg would stuff himself into a coma and Thor would brag with his hammer on the dance floor, making the women believe they could lift it as they danced with him.

If anything, however, this absurd anniversary was the perfect opportunity for him to let his charm play and gain her trust. Jess sighed, prompting him to look up and meet her eyes. She stood, approaching him with the hint of a smile both scornful and compassionate at the same time… and then wrapped her arms around him.

Loki tensed up, his arms hanging by his side motionlessly. Physical affection was the last thing he had expected in a place like this, even from Jess. Perhaps, gaining her trust would be easier than he thought it would be, and still, part of him was unable to deny how much he enjoyed knowing that someone at least pretended to care, as peculiar as she was. Her touch felt like someone had set his entire body ablaze.

“Listen, I know you’ve been through shit and I know you hate everyone right now, including me. M may or may not have red on his ledger but you’re a part of the team now. You’re one of us. If we don’t stand up for each other, then who will?”

“I never agreed on becoming a part of the team.” Loki responded darkly.

Jess moved away from him a little, her smile faltering. “Me neither.”

~*~

“You’ll have to explain that to me one more time. When your father, I mean, Odin, fell into the Odinsleep—whatever the hell that means—your mother gave you the throne?”

Loki hummed. That was the part of the story Thor had left out upon telling S.H.I.E.L.D. and all the other silly secret organisations run by mortals how dangerous and menacing his adoptive brother was.

Jess was flicking through one of the thickest books he had ever seen. It was a collection of astronomical anomalies written down in a language not even Loki could decipher and it was so big she had to stand upright rather than sit at her desk to read the top of the pages. She gazed at him from the corner of her eyes.

“Thor was no longer on Asgard and Mother refused to leave Odin’s side. I was the only one left fit to rule—only Thor’s idiotic friends did not accept me as their king.”

“Let me guess… they pretended you were the villain so you became the villain?” Nibbling on her candy necklace, she bit off a pearl with a loud crack. Loki flinched a little. It was short of a miracle she had not chipped any of her teeth yet.

“I saw my chance,” he said. “So I took it. I never saw myself as the villain. And I never lied. I was the rightful king of Asgard.”

Jess bent over to read the small print. She was still wearing the plait Loki had braided into her hair. It swayed from side to side a bit as it fell over her shoulder, revealing her neck. Her scent was almost unnerving—unnerving in a most ferocious and desirable way. Intoxicating. He had sensed it when she had hugged him already and now, part of him was greedy to press her close to him once more and feel her body against his. He suppressed a growl. He should be enjoying his quest to tiptoe nearer and nearer to getting this ridiculous collar off his neck and make this mortal woman swoon over him—not the other way around. He was the one in control. He had to be.

So he stepped closer, his tread so quiet Jess never heard him approach her.

“So you came to like it. The power of the throne?” She said without looking up. Loki nodded, oblivious to the fact she could not see him. She cursed under her breath when his arm brushed against hers, eliciting a barely noticeable smirk from him. It was amusing how quickly he could read her reactions to him now.

The Trickster swallowed. “I meant to prove myself to the man who never saw me as a potential heir in the first place.”

“How did Thanos find you?” Jess choked out when he moved in closer, demanding all of her attention to himself. It almost scared him how fast she forgot about the massive book on her desk, her eyes fixed on his face as if it bore the answer to all of her questions. Loki’s expression hardened nonetheless, regardless of how much the urge to taste her lips rose within him.

“How much do you know?”

“I know what M told me… that you were his ally and he helped you take over Earth in exchange for the Tesseract.”

Loki narrowed his eyes at her. “Then you know nothing.” Her glance found his lips now too. He was standing close enough for his warm breath to ghost over her mouth, her heart beating more rapidly with every passing second.

Fuck. Her office was being monitored. Sucking in a deep breath, she moved away from him and closed the thick book on her desk shut. “It’s late. We should head to the party.” She cleared her throat. “You can, um… wait for me here so I can get changed. Give me five.”

Loki nodded, taken by surprise until he noticed her glancing at the chunky surveillance camera in the corner of the room. Ah… there it was. The fear or shame or both to be caught being involved with him. Loki gnashed his teeth when she rushed past him, fleeing from the scene. That, at least, was something he was familiar with.

He remained in the office, almost as if glued to the spot, for a while longer before he made his way towards the cafeteria where the festivities would take place. Jess would catch up—besides, so he had to admit, he was indeed looking forward to seeing their faces when he joined the ridiculous little party and what it might give him to work with.

“Really, that’s all? That’s almost a little disappointing.” He heard Dave say in the distance, presumably a few yards away from him, his voice ricocheting through the dark hallway.

Loki stopped dead in his tracks. As silent as a mouse, he leaned against the wall, melted into it almost, and slowed down his breathing.

“Yes…” Another voice that Loki identified as Mobius’, replied. “We did take a risk with them but I must admit, I too almost expected a little… more. I thought one of them might… feel something, you know—a connection or recognition, maybe.” Loki could hear his suit ruffle as he shrugged. “Well, timelines can be unpredictable. We do know that better than anyone else.”

Connection. Recognition? For some peculiar reason, he was certain the pair were speaking about him. Him and… Jess? Who else could they possibly mean? His gut feeling, however, told him that he should, seidr or not, get rid of the security footage in Jess’ office as soon as possible. Whatever it was Mobius wanted to see unfolding between them, he was not going to grant him the satisfaction of presenting it to him on a silver platter.

Fortunately enough, they were too far away to hear him, he realised that once more when Jess’ footsteps echoed through the hallway. He knew it was her without even looking behind himself and yet, found his heart skipping a beat when she touched his arm.

“Ready? You know they might give you suspicious looks as soon as you… what are you doing?”

Loki gave her a disarming smile. “Nothing. Shall we?”

~*~

A/N: Put your swords up, put ‘em up; it’s going down.

[wordsfromthesol]

Worst Fear

Author: @wordsfromthesol Pairing: Tim Drake x Reader Summary:  Tim’s been acting weird and you ask Damian if he knows anything. Warnings:  Language, that’s it? All fluff all the time. Word Count: 1.1k A/N: Not a request, something I wrote a bit ago and didn’t post. Haven’t had a chance to write anything new in a bit, but felt you all deserved a new story…so here you go!

You sat in the Manor, waiting for Tim to get off patrol. This had become your normal routine and at this point you spent more time at the Manor than your own house. You didn’t have any family in Gotham, and the apartment you lived in was often crowded with your roommate’s friends, so you preferred it this way. As you flipped through the channels on tv, Damian stalked into the living room and sat beside you on the couch.

“Y/L/N, I see you are invading my house again.”

“Oh so sorry for the intrusion, Dami. Claire has like ten drunk idiots over at my apartment right now. But I can go…” You made no efforts to move, as you knew Damian would never truly ask you to leave.

“You are already here. No sense in leaving now.”

“Hmm, so did you go out tonight?”

“Father made me stay home. According to him, I acquired too much homework and my ankle still pains me.”

“Both good reasons.”

“Tt.”

Your eyes traced circles around the room until you finally asked Damian the question that had been plaguing your mind. “Has Tim been acting strange towards you lately?”

“No. Drake has been the same.”

“Hm, has he mentioned me? That I’ve done something wrong?”

“Drake is in love with you, therefore he discusses you quite frequently. Some of his lovesick recollections are painstakingly dull.”

“I…what…wait. Love? Damian Wayne do not make up stories about your brother.”

“I would –” Just as Damian was about to scoff at such an idea, Tim walked into the living room.

“Hey Y/N/N. I’m just going to shower real quick and then we can go grab some food.”

“Sounds good, take your time!” You were trying to hurry Tim out of the room so you could further discuss Damian’s confession. Alas, you were too late, as Damian had already moved from the couch when you turned your attention back to him. Dammit. It didn’t take long for Tim to come back down and for the two of you to make your way to the diner. Fine. I’m just going to ask him. This is stupid, we’ve been friends for years.

“Tim, is everything okay?”

“Okay? Yeah. Of course. Why would you think it wouldn’t be okay?”

“I dunno, you’ve just been acting strange.”

“I have not.”

“Timothy Jackson Drake do not try to get out of this discussion. We both know you have been. See! You can’t even look at me!”

Tim lifted his head and stared directly into your eyes. “I’m looking at you now.”

You huffed at his stubbornness, you needed a different strategy. “Fine. How was work tonight then?”

“The usual.” Tim grabbed a fry and plucked it into his mouth. “Still on low level stuff since what happened last month. Bruce is paranoid.”

“Eh, I’d say he’s just being cautious. How are you doing since what happened?”

“Honestly, I’m good. Bruises and scrapes all healed.”

“Yeah, but physically you weren’t in that bad of shape. How are you doing mentally? What even did you see? You never told me.”

“Okay, I guess. It’s not like I never think about that stuff to begin with. Scarecrow’s mojo just enhanced it all.”

“You’re still missing an answer there.” You commented as you shoveled some fries into your mouth, waiting on his reply.

“I don’t know, the usual stuff. What does it even matter?!” Tim was clearly getting agitated from beratement of questions, but you didn’t know what else to do. He used to talk to you about this stuff, about everything, but ever since he got hit with the Scarecrow toxin last month he’s been avoiding actually talking to you. Talking to you about anything real.

“I just want to make sure you’re okay Timmy.” You mumbled into the half empty milkshake in front of you.

“I’m sorry, I just. I saw you die okay. Happy?”

“You saw me die? No wonder you’ve been so weird. Why were you afraid to tell me that? I’ve been sitting here going crazy worrying about you the past month!” You shot a frustrated glare in his direction, thinking the whole thing was ridiculous. Why was it such a big deal he saw you dying, you had nightmares about him dying – nightmares where you woke up screaming.

“I think about you being dead and I freeze. I don’t know what –” Tim cut himself off, but you were making too much progress for this to be the end of the conversation.

“Tim, I couldn’t handle it if you died either. I think it would break me. But you have to talk to me, I felt like I was losing you,” you quickly corrected yourself, “you were losing yourself.” You could see Tim flush as he processed your words.

“Not losing myself, just taking a mental toll. Seeing you dead in my arms, before I could even –“ Tim shook his mind free from the debilitating memory, “It doesn’t matter.”

“Hm.” Your mind went wild as the two of you finished the meal. It doesn’t matter? Well it does if you love me. Damian sure thinks you do. Unless he was just messing with me…

The two of you were nearly silent until you held the motorcycle helmet in your hand, Tim already on the bike.

“You coming, Y/N/N?” He questioned as he watched you stare down at the helmet, unmoving.

You looked into his eyes and took a step closer, “I love you Tim.”

Tim chuckled, it’s not like the two of you hadn’t said it before. But it was always under a platonic blanket. “Love you too, Y/N/N. Now get on before I leave you.”

You let the helmet drop to the ground and enveloped his hands with yours, “No. Tim. I love you.” You stared into his eyes, willing him to understand. For one of the world’s greatest detectives, he could be remarkably thick sometimes. Especially when it came to emotions, though you supposed that ran in the family.

Tim looked down at your clasped hands, and then back up into your eyes. “Oh. Like, actually?” You could see Tim’s breathing grow more and more erratic. You brought your hands up to his face.

“Like actually.” You tipped your head down and pressed your lips to his, hoping that he would return the kiss and you had not just ruined your friendship. Your shoulders relaxed as Tim leaned further into you. As the two of you broke apart Tim looked into your eyes.

“I realized my worst fear was you dying in my arms before I could tell you. Tell you that I have loved you since the day we met. You are my whole world.”

[tsukkismoonlight]

I’ll Hold Your Hand

Hello everyone! I hope your day is going well! Im here with a short x reader to help everyone get into the fall season! This is a part of a collab with the BNHA Sanctuary, where many amazing friends of mine have also write a little something, you can find those here 🍁🍂 !

Summary: Reader and Nishinoya go to a corn maze, and one promises the other to hold their hand the whole way through so they don’t get separated 

Tags: @pattys-got-cakes

××××××

“It’s so dark out…” you comment lightly, the dull lights overhead barely illuminating your breath as it hangs in the air. 

With his signature snicker, Nishinoya Yuu turns to you, “Well yeah ! It’s scarier this way! Haven’t you been before?" 

You shake your head vigorously, "No! I much rather prefer to stay inside and read a book or watch a let’s play!” You pout, knowing that this maze would have scare-actors, fog machines, and speakers set up to give a more frightful approach. 

He motioned with his hand to the entrance, “What if I promise to hold your hand the whole way through? And afterwards I can get you hot cocoa?" 

You take a moment to eye him suspiciously, looking at how his hair was down under his beanie, but his blonde tuft still stuck out some, your eyes flicked to his and you gave a sigh, unable to resist him and his charm.

"Fine! But only for the hot cocoa" 

"Not for the hand holding part?” It was his turn to pout, doing his best to imitate hurt feelings. 

“Nope, not even a little," 

"Fine then I guess you don’t need my hand…” he paused, looking at you with perhaps the most innocent look you’ve seen from him, but he didn’t hold it very long, next thing you knew, he was grinning as he said, “and I can just go into the maze before you!” And dashed inside. 

“Noya!! Hey wait!” You let out a panicked yelp, and took off after him, immediately met with a split in the path. You took a right turn and slowed to a walk, figuring that running through here might just make the scares worse. 

You walked alone for a few minutes, grumbling to yourself about ‘how dare he leave me alone,’ and, 'When I see him I’ll kill him,’

It was then that a shrill voice rang out, “But killing him is my job!!! You can’t do that, no fair!" 

An actor popped out at you, dressed as a scarecrow but all bloody and clothes torn. You jumped back and held your hands up, words jumbling in your throat. 

The actor stepped clower, still trying to scare you some more, which was a little overkill but hey, maybe it was a slow night. 

Before he really got too close however, you turned on your heel and ran back the way you came, going down the left path from earlier. 

Luckily it went straight for a bit, which you took the time to slow to a walk and catch your breath.  Just where the hell was Nishinoya? When you saw him, you were gonna give you a piece of your mind. 

While walking, and being lost in your train of thought, you almost didn’t notice the smoke curling around your feet and the eerie music beginning to play. 

"Oh can’t I get a break!"  You exclaimed, mostly to yourself but hey, at this point the actors in the maze didn’t care. 

Regardless, you kept on going, following the path until the next set of choices. This time it was a crossroads situation. One way dead ahead, and two to your sides. 

You pulled your sweater closer to you, taking a moment to decide on your options. Just as you were going to head straight, a familiar voice came from your left.

"What am I supposed to tell their roommate? 'Hey I lost (Y/n) at the corn maze and I thought they left?’ No cmon Nishinoya, they’re in here-" 

He paused, eyes meeting yours, lighting up excitedly as he ran up to you, ”(Y/n)! You’re not lost!“

"Yeah no thanks to you!” You give him a playful nudge, unable to really be mad at him. 

Nishinoya can be pretty excitable at times, and tends to be impulsive, but he never means for it to be mean (well not to you at least). 

“Any good scares while you were scouting the paths?” You asked, cocking an eyebrow as you did. 

“Nah, one guy tried, but I wasn’t scared in the least, how about you though?" 

You grinned, putting on a brave face, "Same here! One scarecrow tried but I managed to escape his straw grasp,” you flexed your free arm, and gave Noya a pointed look. 

He gave a sigh, and looked towards his shoes, “Sorry babe…still wanna hold my hand?" 

You pretended to think about it for a few moments, taking the time to eye him and his now outstretched hand. 

"Okay…I’ll hold your hand,” you smiled to him and slid your hand into his, fingers interlocking comfortably.

“Oh thank god I thought you were going to say no,” Noya let out a puff of air, and grinned immediately after, starting to pull you down the path to your right.

Before you could stop it, a loud chuckle left you, finding that no matter what, Noya was still Noya, and you loved him for that. 

“Hey don’t make me run! Not all of us have boundless energy like you do Mr. Libero," 

"What do you mean? This isn’t how everyone else is?” He looked back to you, reluctantly slowing down to a walk, “Okay fine but just for you," 

You hummed in content and started forwards again, slightly swinging your hands back and forth, only slightly paying attention to your whereabouts in the maze. 

You were more focused on watching Nishinoya, his little grin as he found his way around or cleverly avoiding the scare actors. The determined glint in his eye. The snicker he gave when you did happen to get scared. 

Nishinoya was your favorite person in the world, and he sure knew it. That was evident by the times he caught your eye, and would crinkle his face up or stick his tongue out. 

You were his favorite person too. 

[sunflowersunshinevol6]

Punkinhead (spooky mini series)

Pairing: Harry Styles x Reader

Warnings: horror, drug usage

Summary: On a camping trip with their friends, Harry and Y/N awaken an evil unlike any other.

Friends to lovers, spooky series

Part One

1963

Hellen jumped, woken by the sound of her Father's drunken screams. She tip toed to the door of her bedroom. 

"Bout as smart as them cows you're supposed to bring in! An' ya couldn't even do that!" Hellen winced, hearing her father's hand come down across her brother's cheek. Hellen watched her brother stumble, only to be yanked back up by her father. 

"I'm sorry Pa." He whimpered. 

"Know wha? You're gonna keep watch over them cows tonight. Give that scarecrow a break." Hellen heard her brother take in a sharp breath, struggling against their father's hold.

"No Pa! Please-"

"An' maybe Punkinhead'll take ya off my hands! Only need one Scarecrow right?!" Hellen watched her father grab a lamp and some rope, dragging her brother behind him. 

Hellen put her boots and coat on quickly. Surely he was kidding about Punkinhead. Punkinhead wasn't a real thing. He didn't exist. Twenty minutes later she heard her Pa come back inside, slumping into his chair. She waited until she heard his soft snores before sneaking out into the night after her brother. 

It was windy, the pumpkin patch was eerie at night, like little goblins waiting around, ready to strike at any moment. She shined her flashlight up where the scarecrow should have been. In it's place her brother, shivering in the cold.

"Abel!" Hellen shouted. She held the light between her legs, reaching up to try and untie him. 

"He….he's coming." Able wheezed. His eyes were wide, staring at something in the distance. "He's coming for me." 

"What?!" Hellen shouted, but she could feel it, the chill on the back of her neck. She looked up, Abel's eyes were red rimmed and filled with fear. He looked down at her. 

"Leave." Abel gasped. "Go Hellen!" Hellen kissed her brother's cheek before turning away. 

The wind howled and as she ran a piercing scream, blood curdling and filled with agony shook the night. Hellen glanced over her shoulder. What she saw would haunt her for the rest of her days. 

Present Day

“I can’t believe you invited her to go with us.” Kennedi rolled her eyes as she hoisted her gym bag over her shoulder. She stood in the lobby with her boyfriend and their friends. Her dig was aimed at him though, Harry, her boyfriend, who had a female roommate she was not fond of. 

It wasn’t that she was afraid Harry would sleep with Y/N. No, that would never happen. It was more so the fact that they were so close and she was so weird, yet Harry fawned over everything she did. Like she was the greatest person ever….it was annoying.

“Y/N is my best friend Ken. I can’t exactly leave her behind.”

“Yes you can,” Kennedi hissed. “You’re not joined at the hip.”

“I think Y/N’s cool,” Niall interjected before Harry could say anything. “She looks like she could kick my ass.” Niall had liked Y/N from the moment Harry introduced them. She was more on the punk alternative side with ripped leggings, diy vests and a plethora of band t-shirts. Let’s not forget her Doc Martens that were entirely kick ass by themselves. Kennedi rolled her eyes. 

“Whatever Niall, you would.” Kennedi turned her attention back to Harry. “You live with her. You see her everyday. Do you have to invite her everywhere? That’s all I’m asking.” she wrapped her arms around Harry’s waist. “Don’t you want to be alone with me?” Niall rolled his eyes when she bat her lashes at Harry. God she was annoying. 

“We will be alone baby,” he kissed the tip of her nose. Niall smirked at the way Kennedi’s face fell, annoyance furrowing her brows. “She’s my best mate. I can’t leave her behind.”

“You can, you just choose not to.” Kennedi pouted. Harry sighed, dropping his arms. “I’m sorry.” she said quickly. “I just...I worry sometimes.” Niall wanted to be sick. She played Harry so easily. He knew the real reason Kennedi hated Y/N was because she knew Harry. Y/N was first, all the time, and that pissed her off. Harry could deny it all he wanted. But everyone knew.

“Look. I gotta go home, but Y/N and I will meet you guys here bright and early in the morning so...be ready to go.” Harry kissed Kennedi once more before leaving the gym. 

Harry skipped steps as he made his way up to the flat he shared with Y/N. They had met three years ago when Harry had moved to the states for school. She needed a roommate and he needed a place to stay. Though it had taken a couple months for them to get used to each other, it was true, they were practically joined at the hip at this point. 

“Y/N!” he shouted, kicking the door shut with his foot. Their dog, Scrappy, bounded up to him. They weren’t sure what he was, he had been a stray, living outside of their building when they found him. Maybe it was weird for friends that lived together to have a pet. But they did. 

“Hey boy,” Harry knelt down, scratching behind Scrappy’s ear. He could smell food cooking in the kitchen and hear what sounded like Iron Maiden, from the kitchen. 

Y/N was cooking something Thai, a red bandana around her head, keeping her bangs out of her face. “Hello love,” Harry said, sneaking around her towards the cupboard. He pressed a kiss to her cheek. Anyone watching them would think they were a couple, but they knew better. 

“Hey. I’m making chicken teriyaki. Know you’re not much for meat but-”

“No, no,” Harry interrupted. “It’s good.” He filled a cup with tap water, leaning against the counter. “You ready for tomorrow?” he asked, knowing full well that the answer was no. 

“You sure I can’t just stay here? I mean, then my mom won’t have to come take care of Scrappy and I won’t embarrass you in front of your friends.” Harry studied her. Y/N was gorgeous, her humor was dark, but she was such a good and caring person. He hated that people judged her for the way she looked, especially his friends.

“Y/N you don’t embarrass me,” he said, grabbing two plates for her and another glass for her to drink out of. “You’re always home. You never go out….I think you could have fun. Kennedi is...tricky,” he said, unable to find the right way to say it, “but Niall is great. You’ll love Elenore and Gigi. Maya and you could get along really well...Louis , Liam and Zayn, they’re fun.” He took her hand, rubbing his thumb over her knuckles. “I want them to get to know you. To like you as much as I do.”

“Harry,” Y/N said, turning to look at him. Harry was extremely close. Their noses almost brushing as she looked up at him. She’d had feelings for him for a long time, but she knew he would never date her. Guys like him didn’t date girls like her. She was lucky just to be his friend. “I don’t want you to think you always have to invite me.”

“I don’t. I’m asking you.” he poked his lip out, giving her puppy dog eyes. “Please.”

“Harry.” Y/N said, trying not to smile. “Don’t.” he wrapped his arms around her, placing his chin on her shoulder. “Don’t give me that look.” he fake whimpered, giggling at the end and hiding his face in her shoulder. “Okay. Okay.” she laughed, tugging at his arms. “Get off me.” she smirked. “Like I could say no to you anyway.” 

That night Y/N crawled into bed, burrowing into the blankets. 

It wasn’t like she hadn’t tried to be friends with his friends. She was a loner, granted she had a couple of friends of her own, she preferred her own company. That was until Harry entered her life. He was sweet and fun to be around, he didn’t care how much she liked horror films or if she preferred the pit at a rock concert to front row tickets to see Ariana Grande (she’d gone, much to Kennedi’s dismay.) Harry just fit. He was her one ‘normal.’ Her one piece of consistency. But she hated feeling like she was holding him back. 

“I’m going to have fun tomorrow.” she sighed, looking at the ceiling. “I’m going to have fun on this trip.”

It was a grave. Six feet deep, already laid out in front of her. The cemetery was dark, wind howling around her. The headstone was blank. She stepped forward, fear gripping her belly, she looked down into the grave-

Beep. Beep. 

Y/N’s eyes snapped open. Her body drenched with sweat. She threw her hand over her face, groaning. Why did she agree to get up at six am. Why did she agree to this. 

Harry was already awake when Y/N came out of her room. Dressed in sweats and an oversized Meat Puppets t shirt, her hair tossed into a messy bun. Harry was in the kitchen, leaning against the counter, phone in one hand, cup of coffee in the other. He was shirtless, his basketball shorts hanging low on his hips. He smiled up at Y/N, pointing at a plate of eggs and toast on the table. 

“Made you breakfast.” 

“Thanks.” Y/N smiled, sitting down. Harry watched her as she scratched her head, stretching her arms up before digging in. He smiled to himself. He thought she was always prettiest like this. No makeup, baggy, comfy clothes, hair out of her face. He could watch her all day. It was moments like this, when he was alone with her here, he would pretend they were more. He would pretend she was his wife and this was their home. He would never tell her that, he didn’t think she could ever like him as much as he liked her. That’s why he was with Kennedi. He needed to get over it. Y/N was his friend. Only his friend.

Y/N could feel Harry’s eyes on her. She cleared her throat, looking up at him. He was watching her with such intensity, she shifted in her seat uncomfortably. “Harry?” he blinked, looking at her. “Might want to get dressed. We gotta leave in like an hour.” she smiled softly, watching his cheeks go red. 

“R-right.” he stuttered. Y/N watched as he downed the rest of his coffee.

“You know, you could have gotten into the back seat after we picked everyone up.” Harry said as he pulled the van up to the gym. His friends were waiting outside. Y/N rolled her eyes, tapping away on her phone. 

“And let the princess see me sitting next to you? God forbid.” Harry’s jaw twitched but he didn’t say anything. He knew she was right. If Y/N was sat up front by him, Kennedi would blow a gasket. That wasn’t something Harry was looking forward to. He had hoped maybe on this trip they’d get to know each other. Maybe get along. But he was doubting that seriously.

“Harry!” Kennedi squealed, she hopped into the front seat, pressing her lips to Harry’s. Her eyes flickered to the backseat, disappointed to find Y/N wasn’t watching. She would get it through her head this weekend though. Harry was hers. And she wasn’t going to let anyone get in the way of that. 

Y/N took her head phones out as the back door opened and Harry’s friends clammerd in. The one named Niall sat beside her. “Hi,” she did her best to smile at him. 

“Hey,” he gestured to her phone. “What are you listening to?” he asked. 

“Oh,” she held out an earbud. “Black Flag.”

“No shit.” Niall sounded impressed. “Lemme listen yeah?”

Harry couldn’t stop glancing into the rearview mirror. Niall and Y/N sat closely together, talking and whispering to each other. He felt the weight of Kennedi’s hand in his but also the raging jealousy. He wanted to be back there with Y/N. 

About an hour into their trip Harry pulled up to a rundown gas station. As he pulled in an old man and his son came out of the building. 

“Everybody out! Stretch ya legs!” Harry shouted. Niall let Y/N go first, before hopping down out of the van after her. He stumbled slightly, reaching for her hand as he righted himself. 

“Careful there,” Y/N smiled. Niall reached out, gently grabbing her waist. Y/N felt herself leaning up, eyes closing softly-

“Y/N!” Y/N’s head turned sharply. Harry was glaring at her and Niall. “Can I talk to you?” Niall smirked, letting her go. 

He was gonna get through to both of them by the end of this trip. It amazed Niall how blind the two of them could be. I mean, he didn’t even know Y/N but could tell she had some major feelings for Harry. 

“What’s up?” Y/N asked as Harry pumped the gas. Harry looked down at her, trying not to let his irritation at Niall show. 

“What’re you and Niall doing?” Y/N raised her eyebrows. 

“Excuse me?” 

“Just….just be careful please. I love Ni but-”

“Harry.” Y/N cut him off. “Harry this is what you wanted. For me to get along with your friends. That’s what I’m doing right?” Harry huffed, looking away. “Harry you’re not my boyfriend….you can’t tell me you want me to be friends with your friends and then two seconds later get mad when I do.” she glanced over his shoulder. “And Kennedi’s watching….Look I don’t want any drama okay.” Y/N turned away quickly. Just as  Kennedi was walking up on him. She placed a hand on his shoulder. 

"You alright babe?" She asked. Harry nodded.

They got in the van and continued on their way. Louis and Zayn passed around a joint. Y/N talked with Gigi and Maya. They were sweet and Liam was adorable with Maya. Harry stayed up front with Kennedi. He hated hearing Y/N's laugh and not knowing what she was laughing at. He hated that she was having fun without him. 

"Hey! Hey!" Gigi crawled over Y/N's lap, pointing out the window. A sign reading 'Grover's Pumpkin Patch' was passing them by. "Come on Harry! Let's stop!" 

"We haven't even gotten to the cabin yet." Kennedi complained. Gigi rolled her eyes. 

"So? We can take some with us to carve." Kennedi huffed, crossing her arms as Harry made the turn towards the pumpkin patch. Y/N took Niall's hand as they made their way down the dirt path. An old house sat at the top of the hill, the wood rotted and flung apart. An old woman came out to the porch as Harry parked in front of the house, everyone filing out of the van.

"Welcome to Grover's Pumpkin Patch. How can I help ya'll?" She had thin white hair and coke bottle glasses, crows feet withered around her watery blue eyes. Her gingham dress blew gently in the breeze. Harry stepped up, shaking her hand. 

"Hi! 'm Harry. We were wonderin' if we could get some pumpkins?" She smiled, her eyes meeting Y/N's, there was something about the woman that put Y/N off though. She wasn't comfortable. 

"10 dollars. You each can pick one." Harry grinned, reaching into his pocket. "Just stay away from the Scarecrow." She pointed over their shoulder. A scarecrow stood in the middle of the field, with a jack o lantern head. Kennedi snorted. 

"What's that supposed to be?" Harry pinched her side and the woman narrowed her eyes. 

"That is the alter to Punkinhead." 

"Punkinhead?" Y/N repeated. "Who's that?"

"He's a demon. He fetches souls for the Underworld. If you done someone wrong they can summon him, and he won't rest until you're dead." Y/N's blood ran cold, the dream the night before flashing once more in her mind. 

"Sounds scary." Kennedi said sarcastically, "lets go Harry. Get the stupid pumpkin so we can get to the cabin." She tugged on his arm as the group followed them. Y/N lingered by the old woman. 

"It's true you know….you seem like you have sense." Y/N nodded. 

"I should….I should go." 

"Godspeed."

"Kennedi." Y/N said, her voice shaking with unease. "I don't think you should do that." She looked to Harry, hoping he would say something to his girlfriend, but he only glanced at Y/N and pursed his lips.

Kennedi had made her way straight to the Scarecrow. The old woman had annoyed her and she was gonna show her. She wasn't afraid of anything, especially not some stupid story. 

"Kennedi." Her eyes flickered towards Y/N, she looked genuinely terrified. "Don't." 

"Ooh." Kennedi said, her tone mocking as she grabbed the scarecrow's head. "Is Punkinhead gonna get me?" She yanked the head off the scarecrow, throwing it to the ground. Y/N shivered at the noise it made on impact, squishy as it split apart. Kennedi hopped down from the post, wiping her hands.

"Kennedi." Niall scolded. She rolled her eyes.

"Come on. I don't believe in stupid horror stories. Punkinhead is about as real as the Boogeyman." She nudged Niall hard in the shoulder as she yanked Harry back towards the car.

Y/N stood rooted to the spot, staring at the smashed pumpkin. A chilly breeze swept over her and her stomach was churning.

"She shouldn't have done that." She finally said, turning to look at Niall. "I have a really bad feeling." Niall shook his head, he wrapped an arm around her shoulders, turning them back to the car.

"I don't like her either Y/N but you shouldn't worry. Punkinhead is just a story....an urban legend." Y/N looked back at the house as they got into the car. The old woman stood on her porch, still watching them. As they made eye contact the feelings grew. Y/N didn't know what it was, but something bad was on the horizon.

Hellen went back into her house. She went into her bedroom, kneeling down she ripped up the floorboard and pulled out an old book. She brought it to the kitchen, slamming it on the table. 

"Stupid kids. They'll learn." She growled, flipping through the pages. "Here it is." She said, stopping suddenly. 

"Cross my heart and hope to die, please keep me blinded from the sight. When Punkinhead appears tonight. Appease the soul, save the right, bad blood will feed this patch tonight."

[prettyinlimegreenboots]

Hey there! Could you do stargazing and proposal for sprace? If you would rather someone else that's great too! Have the best day! I might send in another prompt later. <3

I’ve been throwing around an idea of how Spot proposed to Race in my Life in the Emergency series. @deliciouspeachpirate gave me the perfect opportunity to write it. So buckle up kids, this is a doozy. 

One point of noting, as I was writing this, I realized that Katherine would’ve had to be in school for 12 years, which would’ve made her at least 30 in this series. I’m envisioning the group to be mid-20s, 25/26 years old. However, she’s actually a PA, not an MD. I’ve made the updates in the other stories of the series. 

I do not own One Tree Hill. Curse words and alcohol included.

July 18, 2019 7:30pm

There were perks to working nights while his boyfriend was puttering around the house, unaware of what was to come that night. But little did Race know that Spot was only working until 8pm, having switched with a fellow nurse for the night. 

Tapping on the desk caught his attention as Spot looked over at Albert. “You nervous? Ready for this?” 

“Why I told you in the first place, I’ll never know.” Spot shook his head, looking at his boyfriend’s best friend. “I’m a little nervous.”

Albert smiled, putting a hand on Spot’s shoulder. “Don’t be . . . my best friend may be a dumbass but he’s going to be surprised. He’ll love it.” 

“You sure?” Spot bit his lip, his eyes flying up to see Kat throwing a chart on the desk. 

She rolled her eyes, looking at her friend. “Spot we’ve been over this a thousand times. You could propose to him doing the hula and he would say yes. This is perfect for you two and he’s going to love it. Now don’t you have places to be, other than the Emergency Room?” 

Spot rolled his eyes at Plums and Albert before quickly clocking out and pushing back the chair. “Wish me luck.”

“Good luck but you won’t need it.” Kat pulled him into a hug before lightly slugging his shoulder. “Text me later, might need some excitement to keep me awake.” 

Nodding, he said goodbye to them both, stopping by his locker before he walked to his SUV, his baby outside of Race. Throwing his bag in the backseat, he quickly checked the trunk, making sure the cooler he packed earlier was still cold. He saw the blankets there as well before shutting the trunk lid. 

Jumping into the SUV, he turned the radio on and let his thoughts drift over the last six years he and Race had been dating. They had been friends throughout high school but didn’t start dating until their sophomore year of college, when they were roommates. Spot grinned, remembering their wild times at 1456 Wakeman Ave. Jack and Crutchie had lived across the hall with Albert and Romeo just down the hall. 

Pulling into the driveway, he quickly grabbed his bag before walking into the house. Dropping his bag on the bench in the mudroom, he smirked, hearing the bass pumping as there was noise coming from the kitchen. Peeking his head into the kitchen, Spot’s eyebrow raised. “Racer, what the hell are you doing?” 

His head snapped up, hitting the underside of the cupboard, several curse words escaping his mouth. “Spottie? What the hell are you doing home? You scared the living shit outta me.” 

“Sorry about that. But this is your first surprise of the night.” Spot leaned over, rubbing the back of Race’s head as he kissed him. “I’m sorry for scaring you.” 

Race gave him a look. “Again, what the hell are you doing home? Thought you were working overnight.”

“That’s what I had you believe. I actually got off at 8 . . . now go get changed into comfy clothes and we’ll get going.”  Spot clapped his head, heading to their bedroom to change. 

Spot quickly got changed into an old pair of basketball shorts and a t-shirt before grabbing something from the top drawer, heading out to the living room, where Racer still hadn’t moved. “Racer, let’s go.”

“Where are we going?” Race asked, tilting his head to look at Spot. 

Shrugging, Spot smiled. “Figured since I don’t have to work tonight, we’d go for a drive. Go get changed.”

“That’s what you’re wearing?” Race asked as he headed for the bedroom.

Spot rolled his eyes. “Nah, I figured I’d change along the way.”

“Alright, smartass, you don’t have to break out the sarcasm.” Race called, as Spot went around the living room, turning off the many lights that were on. He yelled at Alexa to stop playing the music. Slipping his feet into a pair of Nike Flip Flops, he grabbed the keys as Race came out of the bedroom. “Alright I’m ready . . . do I need to bring anything?”

“Unless you want a hoodie or something specific to drink, everything is already in the car.” Spot said, twirling the keys in his hand. 

Race gave him a curious look, heading back to the bedroom, grabbing a hoodie for them both before meeting Spot in the entryway, heading out to the car. Unlocking the navy blue 4Runner, he quickly got into the driver’s side as Race hopped in on the passenger’s side. “So do I get a hint or anything? Still can’t believe you tricked me on when you worked.” 

“I haven’t surprised you in a while, figured it would be a good night to do it.” Spot grinned, leaning over stealing a kiss from him. “As for a hint, it’s something you’ve been wanting to do this summer but we haven’t been able to do it yet.” 

Every summer they make a bucket list on their chalkboard wall in the kitchen. Everything from visiting the beach to a summer roadtrip to getting ice cream from their favorite local shop, there are 14 things up on their wall that they’ve been checking off since Race got out of school for the summer. “There’s so many things still up on the board that we haven’t accomplished yet.” 

“Well we’ve got a bit of drive ahead of us so you can ponder the board for a while.” Spot smirked, pulling out of the driveway. “Do you want to pick a playlist?” 

Race shrugged, hooking his phone up to the system before the Lumineers poured out of the system. “So were you working this morning?” 

“Nah, I had some errands to run. I worked 2-8 but I have to pick up a shift in the next two weeks for Maria who is covering for me tonight.” Spot held his hand out for Race to lace his fingers through, giving them a squeeze. “All will be revealed soon but I just wanted to surprise you tonight. I put in a request to transfer to days.” 

Race’s eyes went wide as a grin slid across his face. “You did? But you love nights.” 

“But I hate not being able to spend much time with you.” Spot countered, taking his eyes off the road for a second. “Kat and Albert are also looking to transfer to days so the gang will all be together.” 

Race nodded. “Jack told me that he and Kat are trying to get pregnant . . . that might be why.” 

“That’d make sense.” Spot nodded, squeezing Race’s hand, sighing happily. “I love you, Racer.”

“Love you too Spot; even when you scare me shitless.” Race chuckled as Spot joined in. 

Spot turned onto the interstate, accelerating the car as he merged on. “So we’re heading out of the city?” 

“Yes, we are.” Spot agreed, giving him a look. “Any ideas?” 

Race shook his head. “Nah but I can check a few off the list due to going out of the city.” 

“Is this one of your random playlist?” Spot questioned, listening to the music fade from “This I Promise You” by NSYNC to “I Won’t Say (I’m In Love)” from Hercules.

Race picked up the phone and looked at it, shrugging. “I just picked one of the Spotify playlist. I can put something else on, if you want.”

“Nah this is good . . . just didn’t expect to go from NSYNC to Disney.” Spot chuckled, picking up their linked hands and pressing a kiss to the back of Race’s hand.  “How’s driver’s training going?”

Groaning, Race threw his head back. “Almost got into a wreck with two kids today. Luckily at the last minute they stopped but my heart was in my chest for the rest of the drive. Needless to say, they’re driving with another instructor for the rest of the week.”

“How close are we talking about? Darting out in front of another car or blowing a red light?” Spot asked, raising an eyebrow as he squeezed Race’s hand. 

Race sighed. “Darting out in front of a car, one side was clear but failed to see a car coming until it was almost too late. All I kept thinking is thank goodness you’re working today.” 

“I love you dearly but it’s never a good day when you end up in my Emergency Room.” Spot gave him a knowing look. 

Race half smiled. “I know but you look so damn sexy in those scrubs.” 

“I honestly have no words.” Spot said slowly as Race threw his head back and laughed loudly - one of Spot’s favorite sounds in the world. 

Spot grinned pulling off the interstate, applying the brake as they came up to a stop sign. Turning left, Spot saw Race’s face break into a big grin as he slowly recognized where they were. “You’re taking me to the old farmhouse?” 

“Maybe . . .” Spot shrugged as the playlist flipped over to “I Don’t Want To Be” by Gavin DeGraw. “Remember when you made me watch all 9 seasons of One Tree Hill over a two week period?” 

Race chuckled. “I thought you were going to kill me but you ended up loving that show as much as I do. Besides, I don’t think I’ve seen anyone ship Naley as much as you do.” 

“Leave my precious babies alone.” Spot took his hand off the steering wheel for a moment to point his index finger in Race’s direction. “They had their ups and downs but damn they were the couple that made that show!” 

Race rolled his eyes as Spot turned into the long driveway of the farmhouse Medda had bought several years ago as a retreat outside of the city. “Momma here?” 

“Nah, she’s in the city working on some new production.” Spot said, giving his boyfriend a grin. “She knows we’re out here though.” 

“Just in case there’s a stray killer scarecrow hunting the grounds?” Race quipped, giving Spot a look. 

Shrugging, he stopped the car, turning off the engine. “You never know what can happen in Timbuktu. Come on.” 

Hopping out of the SUV, Spot made his way to the trunk to grab the blankets, handing them to Race before grabbing the cooler. Closing the hatch, he offered Race his hand before leading him out to the fields behind the house. “What are we doing? You didn’t bring me here to die, did you?” 

Spot threw his head back laughing. “No one is going to die tonight . . . well that’s not in the plans.” 

“That’s reassuring.” Race mumbled, lacing his fingers with Spot’s. “What’s in the cooler?” 

Spot adjusted the cooler in his other hand as he tugged on the one laced with Race’s hand. “If you hurry up, I can show you. The more questions you ask, the longer until everything is revealed.” 

“Okay, okay.” Race motioned Spot to start walking as he followed behind him. “You sure there’s no cow pies out here?” 

Sighing loudly, Spot shook his head. “Momma doesn’t own any cows, for as long as I’ve known you. Do you think the cow pies would magically fall from the sky?” 

“I mean, you never know. There are cows around here that could’ve gotten loose.” Race defended as Spot looked over his shoulder at him. 

“In your dreams, Racetrack. Now pick up your pace. It’ll be midnight by the time we get everything set up at this pace.” Spot cracked a smile at him before looking up at the sky, knowing the night was perfect. 

Soon they came to the field that they had often found themselves laying in when they were at the farmhouse. It was a little tradition of theirs. “Here.” 

Dropping the blankets on the ground, Race sighed looking over at Spot. “Okay . . . now what?” 

“Oh how I love you Race.” Spot leaned over, stealing a kiss from him. “Please never change.”

Race’s eyes went wide as he looked at Spot. “What does that mean?” 

“You haven’t figured out what we’re doing yet?” Spot asked, putting the cooler on the ground before spreading out one of the blankets on the ground. 

As if something had hit him, Race’s eyes brightened up. “We are going to stargaze?”

“Bingo, snookums.” Spot said, dropping to his knees on the blanket before rolling over onto his back, propping an arm behind his head. “It’s the perfect night for it. Look at how clear the sky is.” 

Race soon joined him, laying his head on Spot’s chest as he gazed up at the stars, sighing in contentment.  “The big dipper is on bright display tonight.”

“Of course that’s the one that you always find first.” Spot grinned, running a hand through Race’s hair. “And there’s the little dipper and the North Star.” 

Race hummed in agreement as he tilted his head back to look at the star filled sky. “It’s absolutely gorgeous out here. Why do we live in the city again?”

“Closer to jobs, family, everything really.” Spot replied. “Maybe in the next few years, we can move out here. It’s not that far of a drive when you really think about it.” 

Race nodded against Spot’s chest. “Might be hell in the winter but we can always get a better car.” 

“It’s good to dream with you.” Spot mused continuing to run his hand through Race’s hair. “I’ve been doing some thinking.” 

Race sat up, giving Spot a look. “Is that good thinking or bad thinking?” 

“Always good thinking.” Spot said, sitting up, lacing his fingers with Race’s, squeezing them gently.  “How long have we been together, Racer?” 

A smile crossed Race’s face. “We’ve known each other since Freshman year in high school, god we were babies. But together officially since Sophomore year of college. I remember being so nervous to tell you that I liked you . . . it was a damn miracle that you hung out with me as a friend, let alone a boyfriend.” 

Spot laugh, nodding his head. “The feeling was mutual snookums. I couldn’t get over how lucky I was to have you in my life as a friend, let alone a boyfriend. I remember pinching myself so many times during the first month because I thought this was going to crumble and fall. You’ve been there for every good day, through all the triumphs and downfalls. You’re the first person I want to call when I’ve got good news, the person I want to hug when the day is just awful, and the person I want to vent all my frustrations to. But we’ve been through so much together and our journey is just beginning. Since we’ve been together for six years, I kinda don’t want to spend the rest of my life with anyone else . . . so, Antonio James Higgins, will you do the honor and marry me? Be tied to me for ever and ever?” 

Race’s jaw dropped, tears glistening in his eyes, as he started nodding his head before throwing his body weight at Spot, knocking him onto his back. He placed his hands on either side of Spot’s head before leaning down and kissing him. “Ja, Sí, Si, Oui, Yes, Sean Thomas Conlon . . . You're an idiot but I absolutely love you and yes, I will marry you.” 

“I’m your idiot now.” Spot said, leaning up to capture his lips in another kiss. “And I love you too snookums.” 

Race hummed into the kiss, pressing forward slightly to deepen it. Moaning slightly, Race pulled back with a smirk on his face. “Someone’s a little eager.” 

“I’ve been carrying this around for a while now.” Spot sat up, pulling a velvet box out of his pocket, cracking it open. A black Tungsten ring with a row of black Sapphires sat inside the box. A gasp escaped Race’s mouth as he looked at the ring before looking up at Spot. “I-Is that for me?” 

“Nope, it’s for the cow that’s in the next pasture.” Spot grinned, shaking his head as Race smacked his shoulder. “Of course it’s for you idiot. Now, can I put it on your hand without a comment from the peanut gallery?” 

Holding out his left hand, Race grinned at Spot. Race’s hand shook slightly as Spot pushed the ring onto his ring finger. “I promise you that I will always be there on the tough days, the good days, and the bad days. You will never walk alone as I will always be by your side. And I love you immensely.” 

Spot reached up and wiped away the stray tears from Race’s eyes before leaning up and pressing a kiss to his lips. “You’ve made me the happiest man alive, Tony.” 

“Ditto, Sean, ditto.” Race half laughed, half laughed leaning forward so that his head was rested on Spot’s chest. “I love you, Spottie. How long have you been planning this?” 

“Since a few days ago but I’ve had the ring since April.” Spot grinned. 

Race’s head flew up from its place on Spot’s chest as his eyes went wide. “Since April? Where was it hidden in the house?”

“Who’s said it was in the house?” Spot countered, grinning at Race’s jaw drop. “I’m not telling you where it was hiddened.” 

Pulling the cooler closer to his side, Spot opened the top, grabbing two red Solo Cups and the champagne bottle that was inside. He made quick work of popping the cork off the bottle of champagne, eliciting a whooo from Race before pouring some of the liquid into each cup.  Spot handed one to Race, clinking his cup with Race’s before taking a sip and making a face. Race busted up laughing, throwing his head back. “You should see your face right now.” 

“Ugh . . . why is this stuff so awful?” Spot spat out the drink, not even taking another sip.

Shrugging, Race took his own sip, and not a second later, spit it out in the field beside him before dumping the cup. “Please tell me that you brought something else.” 

Reaching back into the cooler, he grabbed two bottles of beer, pulling the tops off, offering one to Race before gently clinking the necks of the bottles together. “Much better, mi amor.” 

Stretching his legs out in front of him, Spot felt Race slide as he sat beside him, mimicking Spot’s position, laying his head on Spot’s shoulder. “This was more than I could’ve ever dreamed of, Spot. Thank you.” 

“You’re welcome.” Spot whispered. “Can I confess something to you?” 

Looking up at him, Race nodded. “I was nervous to ask you earlier but when I spoke from the heart, my nerves went away.” 

“Were you nervous I'd say no?” Race whispered. 

“Never. I was more nervous that you wouldn’t like what I was planning.” Spot explained.

Race laced his fingers with Spot’s. “Honestly, you could’ve been doing the Hula and I would’ve said yes.” 

Spot threw his head back, laughing, while tears streamed down his face. “You and Kat need to stop hanging out with one another.” 

“Kat knew?” Race asked, squeezing their conjoined hands. 

Spot nodded. “She did as did Albert. I threatened them both of bodily harm if either of them squealed. Eventually we need to take a photo so I can send it to them. I’m surprised my phone isn’t blowing up.” 

Just as he said that his phone dinged as a text came through. Spot groaned fishing his phone out of his back pocket and opened it, laughing at the photo that was texted to him. Race looked over at him, raising an eyebrow at his sudden laughter. “What?” 

Tilting the phone, Race laughed seeing Kat and Albert with their chins in the palm of their hands staring into the camera of the phone. “All Kat texted with the photo was well.” 

Race laughed. “So how do you want to play this?”

Holding their conjoined hands up, Spot quickly took a photo of it before sending it to Kat and Albert along with Jack, Medda, Crutchie, and Smalls. He locked his phone, throwing it on the blanket before sighing in contentment. “All of the important people just found out. My job is done.” 

“Leaving the story part up to me?” Race asked as Spot’s hand found the top of his head and started massaging it. 

Spot chuckled. “You’re going to love telling everyone that story. Might as well give you the floor.” 

“Ugh you’re so right.” Race said as he sat up. “As much as I don’t want to, should we get going?” 

Spot’s mouth slipped into a wide smile before shaking his head. “Nope, we’re staying out here tonight. Neither of us have to work tomorrow so no sense in driving back to the city when we’ll be out here over the weekend anyways.” 

“You think of everything, pooks!” Race said, leaning over and kissing him. “Planner by nature.”

 Spot snaked his arm behind Race’s head keeping him there, kissing him again. “Shall we move this party inside?” 

“Please do not quit your day job, Spottie.” Race laughed, standing up, pulling Spot to his feet before gathering the blankets and putting the stuff back in the cooler. They made quick work of cleaning everything up before making their way to the farmhouse. 

Walking inside, there was a light on in the kitchen. Dropping everything in the foyer, the two made their way to the kitchen and grinned seeing what Medda had left them. A cake along with two plates and two bottles of chilled beer were sitting in the middle of the counter. The cake read “Congratulations Spot and Race!” in swirly font. Next to the cake was a handwritten note, which Race picked up and read aloud. 

Race and Spot, 

Congratulations on your engagement. Spot, I’m so happy you’ll be officially joining the family. We will be back around 4pm tomorrow. Race, your bedroom upstairs has fresh sheets on the bed already. There’s stuff for you in the fridge for breakfast and lunch tomorrow. 

Congratulations again and don’t make a mess! 

Love, 

Momma/Medda

Spot pointed to Race with a grin. “She knows you too well.  Shall we dig into this?”

“It’ll be a damn shame if we left the cake go to waste.” Race said grabbing two forks before just digging his fork into the cake and popping it into his mouth. “Damn, momma knows how to pick out a cake.” 

Spot dug his fork into the cake popping it into his mouth with a groan. “Medda is amazing and so is this cake.” 

Digging his fork in, Race looked over at Spot, offering him his fork as Spot leaned forward, eating the piece of cake. “Hey Spottie?” 

“Yeah Race?” Spot asked, swallowing the cake. 

Race set his fork down, leaning over and taking Spot’s hand in his, squeezing it. “You know how you said earlier that I made you the happiest man alive?” 

“I did and you do.” Spot squeezed his hand in return. “Something on your mind, Racer?” 

Race smiled. “You make me just as happy. Honestly, I was thinking of asking you to marry me, but as always you are three steps ahead of me. And I love you for it.” 

Spot leaned forward, one hand still clasped in Race’s hand and the other moving to cup Race’s cheek before directing his lips to meet his. “I love you Racer; always, forever, and from here to the moon and back.” 

“I love you too Spottie.” Race whispered, before leaning his forehead against Spot’s, pressing another kiss to his lips. 

Thank you @deliciouspeachpirate for sending in the prompt. This was a lot of fun to write and feedback would be most appreciated! 

[loveforpreserumsteve]

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

Fourteen:

By ten, Steve was positive that his students needed a nap. The first graders were complaining and arguing, and Steve was losing his mind. It was a good thing that his hair was already a mess because he couldn't help but run his hand through it in his frustration.

By two, Steve was positive that he needed a nap. Not only had it been the third graders, but the fourth graders, too. Sure, Spirit Week was always full of emotions, but usually it was the positive kind. Usually, the kids were excited, and in their excitement, they had a difficult time containing it, so they barely listened. But today they were in bad moods. Steve was sure that it was due to the kids' hairstyles being too taxing on their scalps in their creativity and painful maneuvers.

Luckily, by three, he was just quietly cleaning up the typical messes made. Plus, the school day was almost over. All Steve had to do was wait a little longer. Just a little longer.

As he wiped down the tables, his phone vibrated in his back pocket. Leaving the rag on the table, he pulled it out to find a message from Katie. Seeing the first line of the preview were just a bunch of jack-o-lanterns, Steve good-humoredly rolled his eyes and opened the message.

Look what arrived in the mail! The message under the Halloween emojis exclaimed. Followed by a photo of the spooky seasonal care package. The gray throw blanket covered with a bunch of black cat heads. Some of them wearing purple witch hats and the occasional white ghost cat.

Do you like it??? Steve replied, hoping that she did. He had a feeling that she would considering it was stuffed with junk food, seasonal body washes, candles, and cat related stuff like coloring books, pillows, and other trinkets that Ethan and Sophia picked out. Since the girl loved cats despite being allergic to them, Steve was hopeful that they had done well with their picks.

Are you kidding? I love it! Especially the Halloweentown University sweatshirt! Came through, followed with, Mya is eating all my Scarecrow Chex Mix, so imma have to steal J's. And Heather loves the cookies!

Before Steve could tell her that Ethan and Sophia helped with the different colored sugar cookies that were scattered with white candy eyes, a picture of Katie's roommate, Heather, with a stuffed mouth while holding up a bright pink cookie. A smile tugged at his lips as another picture, one of Katie holding up a black cat mug that Bucky had made for her and a pleased grin on her freckled face.

Make sure you thank your dad for that mug! He was so excited when he finished it, Steve sent. The smile staying on his face as he thought back to the Thursday night he came back from pottery club with so much glee it bubbled over, infecting Steve and the kids. Bucky had just been so proud of executing the mug, and Steve had been proud, too.

Will do, Katie replied.

Checking the time, Steve knew that she had class soon, and so he said, I'll talk to you later, sweetie. Have fun in class! Love you!

Love you too!

Shoving his phone back into his pocket, Steve got back to wiping the tables. His earlier frustrations melting away as he finished up. Making sure to take care of the rags, he put the little chairs on top of the tables, so the janitors would have an easier time cleaning the floor.

Once done, he gathered his things, locked his classroom and left his room. Walking down the hallway to Ethan's kindergarten class, Steve passed by the art projects the students made and bulletins with other projects. For a moment, Steve paused to read the short autumn stories. A small smile on his face, Steve continued until he stopped outside of the kindergarten classroom. Steve peeked into the room where Hildy had the five and six year olds lining up in front of the door. Spotting Ethan, he noticed that the little boy's face was red and he was frowning at the ground.

Steve's good mood started to slip away. And when he spotted Lance -- the little brat -- SHOVE Ethan, Steve's anger rose up like fire from the pits of hell. His eyes narrowed at the interaction. Even with Hildy breaking them up and bringing Lance to the front, Steve was still pissed. No one had the right to bully any kid, but especially not his kid.

When the final bell rang, Steve moved to the side while Hildy opened the classroom door. She gave Steve a nod of acknowledgement, but could tell that he wanted to talk to her.

Really, Steve's heart was broken. He didn't want his children to go through the same pain that he had experienced growing up. And when Ethan ran right into him, wrapping his arms around his legs, and burying his face against Steve's black slacks. Not wanting to touch the painted hair, Steve rubbed at his back.

"Steve," Hildy greeted him as the teacher assistant, Okoye, led the line of children out of the school building to be collected by their parents.

"Hil," Steve nodded, rubbing Ethan's back. Glancing down at the little boy, Steve grit his teeth to stop the angry tears from rolling down his face. He had to stay strong.

Returning his gaze to the woman in front of her as she tucked a strand of black hair behind her warm, tawny, golden-brown ear. Taking in a deep breath, Hildy said, "We're transferring Lance to Hope's class."

"Good," Steve let out a sigh of relief. Hoping that his little boy would stop coming home in tears. That was all he really wanted.

"We want it to stop just as much as you do," Hildy added. Smiling down at Ethan, she said, "But tomorrow will be better. Plus, it's The Little Mermaid! That's gonna be fun!"

Ethan peeked his face out to watch her, but didn't do anything other than that. Managing to make the little boy loosen his grip around his legs, he told her, "Thanks, Hil. It means a lot."

"Of course," Hildy smiled and gave Steve's arm a tender squeeze before turning back for her classroom.

Heading towards the exit, Steve didn't try to pry Ethan from his legs. Even if it would've been easier to make him hold his hand instead of hide behind his legs. He wanted to comfort his son. Especially with all the other kids around.

"Papa! Papa!"

Pausing where he was, he peered over the throng of students to find Sophia. Really, it should've been easier. Only, some of the kids were rather tall, considering their ages, so he had to focus and find the unicorn mane and hair-horn that Wanda had artistically crafted. Once he did, he sighed in relief and crossed the hallway to meet Sophia halfway.

"Hi, honey," Steve greeted the little girl.

"I got a sticker!" Sophia exclaimed, showing off the sparkly black cat on top of a happy jack-o-lantern.

"That's so cool!" Steve agreed, earning a toothy grin from the little girl as she cradled the sticker in her hands.

Sniffling, Ethan removed his red, tear-stained face to look over at his sister, so he could see the sticker, too. Fixing his glasses, Ethan complimented, "That's a cool sticker, Soph!"

Sophia preened and said, "Thank you!" Brows furrowing when she noticed his red, puffy eyes, she looked back up at Steve, "Papa, we need more stickers."

"We really do," Steve agreed. Still rubbing Ethan's back, Steve offered, "How about we go pick up some spooky stickers? How's that sound, bub?"

"With bats?" Ethan asked, tilting his head up to look at the petite blond. Wiping his nose on his jacket's sleeve and pushing up his glasses as he awaited Steve's answer.

Nodding, Steve confirmed, "With bats."

Leading the kids out of the school building, Steve teased, "Bats with hats." When the kids giggled -- even Ethan -- Steve continued, "Bats with hats on mats sitting next to cats."

"Papa, you're silly," Ethan giggled, still huddling close to Steve.

"I'm silly?" Steve feigned incredulousness. The kids laughed even more as they repeated that he was silly, so silly. Steve didn't mind. He wanted nothing more than for his kids to be happy. And if Steve managed to make them laugh every once in a while, he felt like he had fulfilled his purpose.

[sassycassie-s-writing]

I Keep Seeing Your Ghost

By: SassyShoulderAngel319

Fandom/Character(s): DC, BatFam - Jason Todd/Red Hood

Rating: PG-11/T-

Original Idea: Uh... the aesthetics of Taylor Swift’s Style music video because why not?

Notes: (Masterlist)(By Character)(About Me) I swear I didn’t mean for this to be 2,368 words... it just really ran away from me. And it took me all freaking day to write this because I kept getting interrupted. Anyway! Enjoy! @welovegroot @jason-todd-squad @bat-shots @jason-redhood

^^^^^

Gotham’s usual fog was mostly burned off in the early-autumn heat. Except in the cemetery. For some reason the cemetery always had fog. Probably because the number one law of Gotham was to keep the gloomy aesthetic at all costs.

I sat down on damp grass in front of a headstone. The once-torn apart earth had been smoothed over and grass replanted, covering up the fact that the grave had been dug up and a coffin lowered in.

That someone being the name carved into the marble of the marker: Jason Peter Todd.

I sighed. “Hi Jason,” I said, setting the two plastic wine glasses on the ground. I poured part of a can of root beer into the one closest to the gravestone and a lemonade in the one closest to me. “Don’t suppose now’s a good time to apologize for… everything. I know I told you to choose between me or whatever your problem was that you had to go off and take care of. But I really didn’t think it was going to get you killed. It was wrong of me to say that to you. I was just hurt that you kept blowing me off for… whatever it was you were doing. Now that you’re gone all I can do is fear the worst. Were you involved in illegal substances and never told me? I don’t know what I could or would have done but… I would have tried to help you. With whatever. You just needed to tell me,” I said to the headstone.

The headstone, thankfully, didn’t respond.

I picked at my nails. “Jay… truth is… you’ve been gone for six months, and I… I keep seeing your ghost. Everywhere. I see you in the gaps between my curtains when they get caught in the breeze. I see you in my rearview mirror when I drive alone at night out in the Palisades. I see you out of the corner of my eye on the street.

“Jay, when will I be free of you?” I pleaded, tears welling up in my eyes and spilling over. “I miss you like crazy but I can’t keep holding on to this anger and guilt I feel. Why won’t you let me go?”

I wiped my eyes and sniffed, trying to pull myself together. I downed my plastic wine glass of lemonade and hiccuped.

“Hey!” The voice came from behind me, making me jump. I whirled. A man in some sort of security uniform came striding over the cemetery’s grass, carefully picking his way around headstones. “What are you doing here, miss?”

“Just uh… coming to talk with…” I glanced at Jason’s headstone, realizing it might look ridiculous, but knowing I wasn’t the only one who talked to the grave marker of a loved one as though it was that person. “Just here to talk with someone I loved.” I bent down and picked up the root beer. “Would you like some root beer?”

The man accepted the drink automatically. He had some sort of mask on over his face. Like a surgical mask but with little vents on either side, like a gas mask. This close to me I could see a ring of green in his blue eyes around his pupils. In the twilit cemetery, the green almost glowed.

“Miss, you have to leave. This isn’t fog. This is leftover fear toxin slowly dispersing. It’s not safe for you to be out here,” the security man said. “Let me escort you to your car.”

Without waiting for me to respond, he started pushing me away from Jason’s headstone. Still holding the drink. I stumbled over the uneven grassy earth and corrected the security man’s direction so I was actually heading toward my car.

I unlocked my driver’s side door, ducked in, and locked it again as soon as we reached my car. The security man stopped touching me when I pulled out my keys to unlock the door. “You take care now,” he’d said.

“Bye,” I’d replied.

I pulled off from the curb in the cemetery and started to drive away. I glanced in my rearview mirror.

The security man had lowered his face mask to take a sip of the root beer.

But all I saw was Jason, wrapped in Gotham’s fog like a wispy cape, swirling in a breeze.

I shook my head to clear it and kept driving.

^^^^^

Jason watched her go as he took a sip of the drink she’d offered. He smiled. “She remembered my favorite brand,” he said quietly.

He felt bad about lying to her about the fog. It was, in fact, just Gotham’s usual mist shroud.

But he really couldn’t stand listening to her cry over his grave anymore.

It hurt too much.

“It’s not your fault,” he whispered as her taillights disappeared into the mist.

He drank the rest of the root beer with a wistful look on his face before placing the wine glass on his headstone. She hadn’t even noticed how recently the earth had been churned up and placed back down again after he’d dug himself out of his own grave.

He sighed. “I’m just trying to keep you safe. I don’t mean to torment you. I didn’t realize you even saw me,” he muttered. “I’m sorry. I miss you.”

Jason stared at the spot where her car disappeared for a long time.

Finally he pulled out his phone. “Yeah, hey, Bruce? I need some advice.”

^^^^^

I flopped onto my bed and stared at the ceiling. My roommate in the dorms wasn’t back from her studying yet so I had some time to just decompress.

Which I did by grabbing my pillow and screaming into it. I wasn’t angry. There was just a lot of deep-seated emotions constantly simmering on the back burner that I needed to release. Let off some steam.

Once I felt a little better, I just laid there on my bed and started mentally rearranging the stars tacked to Daniella’s side of the ceiling into proper constellations.

The dorm room door burst open. “Wakey-wakey! Rise and shine sucker! I need your help!” Daniella exclaimed.

I winced at the loud noise. “What?” I muttered.

“Well, okay. I need your car and your stupidly photogenic face,” my roommate amended.

“What fooor?” I complained.

Daniella stared at me for a second. “Photography club, genius,” she said. “We’re meeting in the woods outside the Palisades to take ghostly pictures in the fog! And you’re stupidly photogenic so I want you to put on that white dress you have and be my ghost!”

“The fog is fear toxin dispersing, isn’t it?” I asked.

“What? No! Scarecrow’s hasn’t broken out of Arkham in, like, four months!”

“Then what…?” I whispered. What had that security man been thinking, then? That didn’t make any sense.

“So? Will you?” Daniella pressed.

I sighed and sat up. “Sure. Pass me my hairbrush.”

^^^^^

“Okay, now turn your back on the camera and your head so we can see your profile and stare longingly into the woods,” Daniella instructed. I followed her directions. Several camera shutters went off in quick succession.

I zoned out as Daniella came forward and started fixing up my dress to drape more aesthetically over the forest floor. My eyes scanned the trees, looking at the mist dancing around.

It curled around a silhouette. Black hair, with a single streak of white near the center of the hairline. Tall muscular.

It wasn’t Jason’s skinny, malnourished body—

But it was his face.

My throat closed up and my heart slammed itself against my ribs. “Jason?” I asked. “Jason?”

Not even hearing Daniella yelling after me, I took off running over the forest floor, ignoring the pain of being barefoot. Jason disappeared in the fog, but I saw him up ahead, off to the left.

“Jason!” I shouted, running after him.

I took several twists and turns before truly losing him in the mist.

Looking around, I realized I had no idea where I was. And that the light was fading. Gotham forest was always dark anyway but as the sun went down and the autumn chill started to set in, there was truly almost no light left. I fell onto my knees and looked behind me. My dress was stained with dirt and mud at the hem but had managed to avoid tearing.

When I took stock of myself, I saw that my feet were bleeding.

“Oh crap,” I muttered.

Pain flooded my feet full-force and tears pricked my eyes. I let them fall freely, cursing my stupidity. It wasn’t him. I’d been seeing his ghost for months. Why did I choose the time when I was already lost out in the forest to go running after a specter that wasn’t there?

Angry at myself, I shoved myself to my feet and started trudging through the woods, trying to find my way in the darkness back the way I came. There was no path, no tracks I’d left—not that I’d know how to read them anyway—and no way to see. My phone was in the glove compartment of my car…

“Great,” I muttered. “I’m gonna end up on Buzzfeed Unsolved for randomly running off into the forest and disappearing under mysterious circumstances while a whole club of photography nerds watched and no one is ever going to find my body.”

That was immensely frustrating.

I thought about tearing the hem off my dress to wrap my feet in an effort to stop the bleeding, but I wasn’t sure I was even strong enough. They weren’t bleeding that bad either way. And I didn’t think there were many predators in the woods this close to the city. None that could smell blood anyway… but I wasn’t entirely sure. There could be wolves behind every tree and I’d have no idea.

I found a clearing big enough for me to see the sky. Betelgeuse was just edging past a tree. Orion was an October-to-April constellation that had just barely risen for the winter. But even seeing it meant I knew which direction I was going. I couldn’t get a glimpse of the north star or even Ursa Major from here but I knew I was going east and if I turned right I’d be heading south—toward the city. Or at least the road. Where hopefully I could find my friends or someone willing to drive me back to my parents’ house so I could go to the hospital to check my feet—and call Daniella and let her know I was alive.

“Okay. Best to keep going,” I muttered, starting to trudge through the woods, going south.

The light was completely gone and it felt like I was walking for hours before I finally found a road.

When the asphalt—stranger to touch but just as sharp on my feet—was under me, I let myself cry again. I found the road. The connection to Gotham I needed to at least try to find my way back to the place where I’d parked my car. Daniella and the photography club had probably left. Maybe they’d gone to the cops. Maybe there was Search & Rescue scouring the woods for me already.

Looking up, I found Betelgeuse again to orient myself and started running—that was really more of a stagger—down the road toward Gotham. I was probably leaving a small trail of blood but most of my injuries had scabbed.

I was exhausted and desperate—and wearing a white dress. Any late-night travelers would be insane to pick up a hitchhiking, exhausted, barefoot girl in a white dress. Any sane Gothamite would think I was an actual ghost. And in Gotham that wouldn’t even be a stretch to have an actual hitchhiking ghost.

My run slowed down as my fatigue really set in. My eyelids were heavy.

As I reached the one strip of road that wasn’t twisting-and-turning, I tripped on a rock I couldn’t see in the darkness, falling to my hands and knees and scraping my palms on the ground.

I didn’t get back up. I just sat down and cried. My dress was ruined from the forest and the trip on the road and my blood as I held myself in a hug with bleeding hands.

The distant rumble of a car’s engine registered in my ears. I lifted my head and wiped my eyes.

The car that swung around the corner was old. Probably from the sixties. It looked like an old gray Chevy.

The headlights stopped about ten feet from me. A door creaked open.

Someone called my name, sounding comforting and yet confused.

The headlights filled my vision so I couldn’t see who it was. I blocked the brightness with one arm.

That same voice swore. “You’re bleeding!”

Joining me on the asphalt, bathed in light, was—

“J… Jason?” I asked, confused and tired. “H… how…?”

He carefully examined my hands, swearing again. “These look rough. C’mon. Lemme take you home. I’ll explain everything on the way, I promise,” he said.

Before I could respond, he’d scooped me up and set me gently in the passenger seat. He caressed my face before shutting the door, circling the car, and ducking into the driver’s seat.

“You’re… you’re alive,” I breathed.

“Yup. And you’re bleeding. From both hands and feet. So just relax. I’m gonna get you home. Or to a hospital. And while we drive, let me explain what happened.”

I sighed in relief at being off my feet—and at knowing that I wasn’t going crazy. Jason was alive! I was actually seeing him when I thought I just kept seeing his ghost in my guilt.

Before he could even start explaining how on earth he was still alive, I passed out.

^^^^^

Jason looked over at her as her head lolled down. She was asleep.

“I’m not leaving you again. I’m sorry,” he said quietly. He reached across the front bench to run the backs of his fingers down her face. “I promise… I promise that I’ll tell you everything. Just as soon as you wake up and feel better.”

[w-k-smith]

The Deetz-Maitland-Beetlejuice family is coping pretty well with shelter-in-place, until Adam invents an extremely complicated board game that no one else can understand. As more of them stop playing, the more obsessed he gets with perfecting the rules, leaving Lydia worried about what the endpoint might be.

Read here on AO3, or below the cut. All my off-topic ramblings author’s notes are on AO3, though.

 Day 1

No one knew what Adam was up to until it was too late.

The Maitlands loved their hobbies. Barbara often said picking up and putting down new hobbies was their only consistent hobby, and Lydia considered it to be one of the most fun things about them. Every couple of months, Adam and Barbara found something new they wanted to try, and asked a living member of the household to pick up supplies at the craft or hardware store.

The Maitlands would be the first to admit that they often had more enthusiasm than talent, but sometimes one or both of them turned out to be really good at something. They’d knit sweaters for every person, living and dead, in the house for Christmas. Beetlejuice refused to admit how much he loved the pullover his boyfriend and girlfriend made for him, and wore it nonstop for weeks, and only Barbara’s puppy-dog eyes had convinced him to part with it for one afternoon so she could wash it.

So Lydia was curious when Adam gathered an armload of scrap paper and cardboard and disappeared into the attic. She hoped it would be fun, or at least interesting, because she was anxious and bored enough that she was starting to miss school.

Connecticut’s shelter-in-place order had cast a new energy on the house. Lockdown was going fine, with a few bumps. Even with the protection of Beetlejuice’s sandworm-wrangling skills, the ghosts didn’t leave the house much, and were happy for the extra company. Beetlejuice had volunteered to do grocery shopping, but wasn’t one for sticking to a list or following directions, and had come back with eight boxes of Kashi cereal, a kumquat, and fish food. Delia was coping by meditating and doing yoga in the backyard up to six hours a day. She’d banned any discussion of the news in her presence, and Lydia still found her stress-vaping on the porch at three in the morning.

Lydia was annoyed at how well her father was doing. Charles was adept at sewing masks out of scrap fabric, and kept his hands busy by making piles of them during his endless Zoom work meetings. He’d also forced a quiet hours rule for those Zoom meetings after Lydia and Beetlejuice played a game of tag that ended with a broken window.

“Restricting the movements of the people is a symptom of a fascist state,” Lydia told her father.

“Go do your schoolwork,” he said.

“It’s Saturday. And I did it already! How do you think I know so much about fascism?”

He pressed his thumbs between his eyebrows. “I don’t care if you play around with Lawrence all day.” Charles had taken to calling Beetlejuice by his first name, because he had to explain Beetlejuice’s presence whenever Beetlejuice was around when visitors came over, or, these days, whenever Beetlejuice barged into his office while the webcam was on. “This is Lawrence, my oldest,” Charles typically said, quickly and gruffly, and people seemed to assume he meant “my oldest son, who I have from a previous marriage,” rather than “my oldest dead roommate who is my daughter’s best friend and is in a committed relationship with the deceased couple in the attic.” And Charles himself seemed fine with the assumption. It delighted Beetlejuice utterly. “Please just be quiet for a few hours.”

Lydia sighed, and stormed off. “We have to make as much noise as possible today,” she told Beetlejuice when she found him sitting at the top of the stairs.

“Normally, I’d love that, but we have a new problem,” he said. “Adam’s being weird.”

“Everyone in this house is weird,” Lydia reminded him.

“Adam’s destroying the living room.”

Lydia leaned over the banister. Adam had covered the living room floor with scribbled-on pieces of paper, figurines, and little improvised game pieces. He was speaking intensely to Barbara, but her head was tilted to one side, like she did when she was confused.

“What are you doing?” Lydia asked, walking downstairs. Beetlejuice floated behind her.

“I invented a board game!” Adam said.

“He did. It’s called, um…?” Barbara trailed off.

“It doesn’t have a name yet,” Adam said. “But it’s part Risk, part Monopoly, part Dungeons and Dragons.”

Lydia frowned. “That sounds–”

“Do you want to try it?” he asked, and his eyes were so bright and excited Lydia couldn’t turn him down.

“Let’s all play,” she said. “I’ll get Delia.”

“I’ll get Da-CHARLES,” Beetlejuice said.

Fifteen minutes later, everyone was sitting in the living somewhere that wasn’t covered with paper. Adam gave them all a set of pieces, but they each seemed to have a different assortment, because, as far as Lydia could tell, they were playing against each other. Except where the game was collaborative. Except where they had to group into different factions.

“I’m very confused,” Delia whispered to Lydia.

“I am, too,” Lydia whispered back.

“Why don’t we all ever play the games I make up?” Beetlejuice asked.

Charles didn’t look up from the board. “Because, Lawrence, much like you, most of them are very messy and hard to understand.” The roots of Beetlejuice’s hair started to turn purple. “Ergo, you are not allowed in charge of family game time.”

“Family game time?” Beetlejuice repeated, and the purple faded back to green.

Lydia saw Barbara catch Beetlejuice’s eye and mouth Oh, he loves you right before Adam announced he had an idea for a new challenge play.

 Day 2

One by one, the players dropped out of the game.

Charles was the first to go, because he got an emergency call from the vice-director-of-blah-blah-blah. Beetlejuice kept cheating, was ejected from the game by group consensus, and spent several hours sulking behind the couch.

Delia gave it a valiant try. She put more effort into following along than anyone except Barbara. Her enthusiasm started real, became fake, and ended with her asleep on the floor wrapped up in her caftan.

Lydia stopped playing, but stayed in the living room. She messed around on her phone but kept an eye on the Maitlands, wondering how far the game would go.

Finally, right before midnight, Barbara gave up. “Are you going to be OK on your own for a while?” she asked.

“Sure!” Adam said. “I’ll have this perfected in no time.”

Lydia watched him tape two pieces of poster board together, then went upstairs to go to bed. She hoped he’d be done by morning.

 Day 3

Lydia began to get worried. Adam’s game spread across the living room like a spider’s web, as he added more pieces, more levels, more intricate steps that only he could understand. It still didn’t have a name.

“Ghosts can get obsessed,” Beetlejuice told Lydia. “How do you think some of them keep haunting the same hallways for centuries without imploding from boredom? I’ve never seen a ghost get this wrapped up in a board game, though.”

“Something you haven’t seen?” she said. “That’s concerning.”

 Day 4

Lydia made Barbara and Beetlejuice sit down in the kitchen.

“I need your help,” she told them.

“What’s wrong, sweetheart?” Barbara asked.

“Whose body do you need me to hide?” Beetlejuice asked.

“We have to stop Adam.” Lydia pointed behind her at the living room. “This is madness. And not good madness. You guys have to stop him.”

Barbara nodded. “We have talked to him. But he’s pretty determined about this game. I suppose we could start another conversation…”

“I don’t mean that,” Lydia said. “I meant other stuff.”

“Other stuff?” Barbara asked, frowning. But Beetlejuice was grinning, because of course he was.

“I mean distract him romantically,” Lydia said. “Look, kissing is gross – you’re just mashing your food holes together. But this house is getting desperate. If you alloromantic people can’t use your wiles–”

Beetlejuice choked on nothing. “Wiles?”

“–What’s the point of having them?”

“That’s not appropriate, Lydia,” Barbara sighed.

“I’m offended you assumed I hadn’t tried already,” Beetlejuice said.

“We have to scare him out of it,” Lydia said. She and Beetlejuice stood in the foyer, right outside the living room, watching Adam drift around his enormous board. “Like the hiccups.”

“I’ll do the snake face,” Beetlejuice said. He started to storm in, but Lydia grabbed his sleeve.

“He’s seen the snake face. You do it all the time,” she said.

“Ooh, oh, what if I make the furniture come alive, and they all behave like different wild animals, and they all have teeth–”

“That’s not shocking enough. How about that thing where you turn yourself inside out?”

Finger guns. “I like the way you think, scarecrow.”

Beetlejuice strode into the living room, out of Lydia’s line of vision.

“Hey, sexy,” she heard him say. “Having fun – aaagh!” A squelch, splattering sound, a howl through an inside out mouth.

“Hi, BJ,” Adam said, his tone distant. “Can you hand me that deck of cards?”

“There are cards now?” Lydia whispered.

She heard a wet snap as Beetlejuice put himself back together. “Sure. Happy to. This isn’t disappointing at all.”

 Day 5

“Hey, guys?” Adam asked from the other room.

Lydia walked in cautiously. The debris of the game was still strewn all over the living room, so you couldn’t tell if the current round was in progress, or if a tornado had hit a hobby store.

“This is nothing, isn’t it?” Adam said, in a tired, defeated voice.

Lydia nodded. “Yeah. Sorry.”

“I just wanted a distraction,” Adam said. “I know we’re all as safe as we can be in here, I just get so worried.”

“Adam’s back! C’m’ere, hot stuff” Beetlejuice charged down the stairs, tackled Adam onto the sofa, and kissed him on the mouth. “Babs and I thought we’d lost you for good!”

“We didn’t think that,” Barbara said. She squeezed Adam’s shoulders.

“I completely understand, Adam,” Delia said, coming in from the kitchen. Charles was close behind her. “I’ve found diversion to be the best way of coping when life gets upsetting. When I was kicked out of that all-women ska band in the ’90’s, I threw myself into underground poker tournaments, and long story short I was briefly engaged to a prince of what turned out to be a micronation.”

“I’ll clean up the mess,” Adam sighed. Lydia suspected that would be easier said than done, because Beetlejuice was still sitting on Adam’s lap and wasn’t acting like he was planning to move.

“Then let’s do something fun together,” Delia said.

“Monopoly?” Lydia suggested, unable to hide her grin.

A chorus of “Absolutely not!” and “That’s not funny, young lady!” with Beetlejuice adding a mock-offended “Lydia Cordelia Deetz, who raised you?” though that wasn’t even close to her middle name.

“I’m kidding,” she said.

“How about a movie?” Barbara said, scooping up the closest pile of papers.

“Make it something with a lot of sequels,” Charles said. “We’re at home for the long haul, after all.”

“We’ll have to remember all this for the next plague,” Beetlejuice said. Lydia could have asked him why he sounded so sure when he said “next,” but decided it was just better to get some popcorn and ignore it.