#I bet my brother would be down for a Chinese as well. Ordering for one person is impossible bc you want a bit of everything.

[satans-knitwear]

What does a takeaway even cost?

I don't think many deliver round here unless you spend at least £20??? Some are more??

[writingsbychlo]

let me down slow (prologue)

word count; 3432

summary; you’re in love with stiles stilinski who will never love you back, and mitch stilinski is freshly heartbrokenand home to try and redeicover himself. after being ditched by stiles, mitch offers you some company.

notes; let me just make it clear that there is no wolves in this, also, she’s 18 and Mitch is 20. OH, and a big thanks to @stylesharrys​ for proof reading this for me. I love her.

warnings; smut, unprotected sex, underage drinking, that’s pretty much it.

Your toes caught on the slightly uneven paving stone on the front garden of the Stilinski household, noting the absence of the cruiser on the driveway, the space beside it clear of the usual powder blue jeep that was never clean, but a black jeep that was clean sat in its place, a precocious vehicle that and you roll your eyes in a heatless judgement.

In some ways, Mitch Stilinski was the opposite of his younger brother.

He excelled at lacrosse, earning himself a scholarship to a college on the other side of the country, and handing down his famous ‘24’ number to his brother, who had finally tried out for the team at the beginning of junior year after his brother left. He was clean, and he worked out and ate healthy foods, and he had a car from this century that he actually respected. There was something under one of the seats of Stiles’ jeep that was unrecognisable at this point, and you didn’t particularly want to question it.

Despite this, there was a lot they both had in common. Their sarcasm, and loyalty, and passion for the things they loved. Not to mention, the spooky similarity between them both.

Though, Mitch possessed the ability for growing facial hair, which had started coming in his sophomore year, and now in his senior year, Stiles still had a baby face that was smooth and soft, and entirely hairless. It was adorable, really.

So, no, the absence of the blue jeep didn’t immediately clue you in to something being off, because you assumed he may have pulled into the driveway to make space for his brother’s car. Instead, you remained positive and sunny, a collection of DVD’s clutched in your arms and a change of clothes in your bag for the sleepover you were intending to have with your best friend, pizza money tucked into your bra for the food you would undoubtedly order and your heart skipping a couple of beats as you waited patiently for your spastic best friend to swing the door open following your series of knocks.

A few beats passed, before the lock was clicking and the door was shifting, and you dragged your eyes up along his chest. It was not the skinny and plaid covered frame you’d anticipated, but that of the messily cut tank top of a broader and more muscled older brother, a piece of candy hanging from his lips as he chewed it slowly, staring at you expectantly with a blank look.

“Mitch. I see you’re home, then.”

“Well, well, well. Aren’t you the observant one?” His words were sneering, and you scowled at him, used to his moody attitudes from over a decade of knowing the Stilinski boys, but not missing the colder than usual undertone to his words. The banter between the three of you had always been playful, somewhat teasing but his lips would always flicker up at the sides and you’d always been able to see the amusement sparkling in his eyes - much like his brother’s - but this version of Mitch just seemed empty and angry. “What do you want?”

“You’re being awfully rude to someone who knows your real name. I’ll post it under your next status update on Facebook. I wonder if the lacrosse team at Syracuse knows how to properly pronounce Polish names.”

Your threats about revealing his name always got a laugh out of him, or at least a fond roll of the eyes, but this time he just grunted at you and pulled a sour face, sighing like he had somewhere else to be, despite the fact that he was standing with bare feet and a pair of sweatpants on, and clearly had no other plans.

“Fine, be moody. Is Stiles here?”

“Do you see his jeep on the driveway?” Your jaw dropped at the tone of his voice, your shoulders slumping as you glanced back for a second, and when you turned back to him, you didn’t let your eyes meet his. Heat was crawling at your cheeks, and you took a few steps back from the doorway, swallowing down the beginnings of the lump forming in embarrassment from your faith and optimism, and Mitch let out a groan, lifting a hand to run through his hair as he swallowed the last of the candy stick he’d been nibbling on. “Wait, wait. I’m sorry, okay? I shouldn’t have been so rude to you.”

“It’s not the first time I’ve seen you in a bad mood, Mitch, it’s alright.”

“I’m still sorry, kiddo.” Once again, you were scowling, the nickname he knew annoyed you so much peeking through, and at your distaste for it, he was grinning at you cheekily, and just like that the tension between you both had been brushed away, no matter how many months passed between seeing on another. “Stiles isn’t in, though. He went out, like, a couple of minutes before you got here, I’m surprised you didn’t catch him before he went.”

“Well, did he say how long he’d be?”

The elder actually cringed, leaning on the doorpost and looking out at the surrounding of the street for a second, before fixing his attention back on you. “He told me not to wait up, so I'm assuming he’s going to be a while.” His eyes then dropped down to the bundle in your arms, and a pitiful look took over his features. “You had plans, didn’t you?”

You simply hummed, feeling your body deflating sadly as your plans fell through, and while you were disappointed, you couldn't exactly say you were surprised. Lately, your plans had been coming second in his eyes a lot, and he let out a sad sound himself. Something between attempting to comfort you, and annoyance at his younger sibling, and your cheeks twitched to show a barely present smile, one shoulder rising and falling as you tried to brush it off. “I bet he said something about Lydia needing him, huh?”

“He did, actually..”

You nodded, more to yourself than to him, before doing your best to perk back up, adjusting the belongings in your arms and trying to mask your disappointment. “Right, well, that’s all good. I can just catch up on some reading, anyway, it’s fine.”

“It’s not fine, it’s a shitty thing for him to do.” His voice was a little sharper than usual, and you let out a laugh, nodding at his words as he stood up a little further and opened the door for you. “Why don’t you come in, anyway? You can hang out with me?” You paused, eyes narrowing at him for a second as you studied him, and he raised his brows at you in his own silent analysis of your reaction. “You’re in love with Stiles, it’s been written all over your cute little face since you were freshman, and my girlfriend broke up with me, and you’re not the worst of his friends. So, why don’t you bring your broken heart inside, and we’ll order some takeout, and wallow in self-pity and misery together?”

Once again, a blush was covering your face, splotchy patches of warmth that made you uncomfortable. You wanted to get in your sweats, and order food and laugh with your best friend, but now Mitch was holding open the door for you and looking at you with a little grin, and you accepted, taking a few steps forwards and over the threshold and into the house as your emotions bubbled up and over.

Dropping your bag beside the front door and kicking off your shoes, the man plucked the armful of belongings from you and moved away for only a second, placing them down on the table and coming back to stand before you. It was an uncomfortable tension, but it was unusual. You had hung out with Mitch on multiple occasions, but never just the two of you. You sniffed lightly, and he let a rumbling sound out from deep within his chest, before placing an arm around your shoulders stiffly and pulling you into a loose hug. “I’m sorry about my brother, he’s an ass.”

You nodded into his shoulder, before bringing your arms up around him and squeezing him tightly, your hands bunching up in the back of the thin cotton shirt he was wearing. Only a second later, he was wrapping his other arm around your waist, and pressing his nose into your hair, letting out a shaky breath over your skin, and suddenly you were clinging to one another, your sniffling breaths muffled against his body.

You were trembling, you could feel it within yourself, the rush of emotions all making you feel weak, and yet no tears came out, because you weren’t entirely sad. You felt comfort in the arms of your friend, you felt safe, and you felt understood. His own pain made you feel less pathetic, and the way he was holding onto you just as tightly gave you the understanding that you weren’t suffering alone, and so when you were finally ready to pull back, his cheeks were a little damp and you gave him your best smile, bumping your forehead against his chin before stepping back.

“You promised me food, then?”

“That I did. What do you feel like?” He beamed, dragging a hand down his face and walking towards the kitchen letting you follow of your own accord and hop up onto one of the stools at the counter to watch him as he sorted through takeout menus. Passing them over to you, you glanced down at the pile of laminated and colourful leaflets, and you looked back up at him, shrugging.

“Stiles normally just orders us pizza, I brought a twenty because he likes the stuffed crust ones and to put his own toppings on and it adds one hell of a cost.”

He chuckled, rubbing his hands together and leaning his hands on the counter. “Yeah, that does sound like him, but what do you have?” He fixed you with a look when you gaped a little bit, before sighing and spreading out the collection before you. “Next time Stiles goes to just order a pizza, tell him what you want. These places are good if you want Chinese, but the Blue Dragon is my favourite because they do some pretty awesome spring rolls and dumplings. There’s also a Korean place, or an Indian place if you want something spicy but I don’t know if they deliver, we may have to go get it. If you really want pizza, there’s a place in there that’s better than Dominos, they just aren’t as popular so Stiles doesn’t bother with them.”

Upon finishing his spiel, your eyes were wide, and you thumbed through the other booklets, noting the way some of them had meals and dishes circled or highlighted, and the shiny blue of a fold-out menu for the Blue Dragon caught your attention, and you shifted it to the top.

“Do you really want Chinese food, or are you picking this because I said it was my favourite?”

His voice was stern but playful, and you opened it up, waving him off idly as he laughed at you and he circled around to stand beside you, the warmth of his body flushing over your side as he waited patiently. “I do actually want Chinese food, by the way. But since this is your preference, I figured we could order from here. You can tell me what’s good, and you get the stuff you like. Win-win.”

“Alright, I’ll take that deal.”

The two of you debated for a couple of minutes over the choices, before he was pulling out his phone and sitting up on the counter beside you, legs swinging as he orders all the food you both wanted, indulging you each time you poked at his leg and added onto the order when you came across something you liked, and you were sure you’d spent considerably more than you had on an unnecessary amount of food, but if you didn’t have the funds, you could always pay Mitch back.

He was holding up a bottle of whisky, offering you a glass with a few chunks of ice in the bottom, and you accepted it happily, following him through to the living room and collapsing on the couch. It was a little awkward, to begin with, the two of you chatting between yourselves and sipping on the drinks you had, before eventually settling on a movie. When it began, however, you were a few drinks in and suddenly the conversation was flowing smoothly, the dialogue and plot of the film falling away as the two of you inched closer to one another from opposite ends of the couch, more and more enthusiastic about the topics you ricocheted between.

Food had arrived, and you’d eaten, between laughs and jokes and his eyes lingering on you each time you tried new portions of the meal so that he could watch for your reactions. You loved them all, his recommendations panning out, and soon, half of the bottle was gone, and you were laying out across the couch with your legs across his lap and you head in the cloud, warmth filling you from head to toe.

He had a hand on your knee, full-bellied laughs coming from his mouth as he stroked up and down your leg gently, the movie had faded away into the background. He had listened as you poured out your heart to him over his younger brother in your tipsy stupor, and he in return had shared with you the truths of his break up.

You told him about the way you hated that Stiles seemed to never have time for you anymore, and that he continued to chase Lydia years later than his original crush, hopelessly falling at her feet when she’d only just become aware of him and was using him for her own gains. He told you about Katrina, the blonde bombshell whom you remembered. She was a cheerleader at Beacon Hills high and Mitch’s high school sweetheart, and she went to a college in New York like him, but after the first year the spark began to fade, and the distance may as well have been ocean’s wide, because they had drifted. What hurt him the most was change, the nagging feeling that he could have done something different, that she could have been the one if he’d made more visits to her on the weekends and more trips to see her on the holidays.

The confessions had only ever been shared with one another, and suddenly the two of you had a bond that nobody else could touch, because your deepest fears and secrets had been exposed to one another in a night of greasy takeout and almost a full bottle of whiskey, but the absence you’d felt when your best friend wasn’t by your side was filled in an entirely new way by Mitch.

It was playful and refreshing and relaxing, it was everything you didn’t know you were missing. Until it wasn’t.

Somewhere between the end of the movie and the end of the bottle, the atmosphere between you both had changed. Somewhere between the time his thumb has stopped rubbing at the skin below your knee to move up to his fingers digging into your lower thigh, and when you sat up to talk to him and found yourself almost seated in his lap. After you told him to stop calling you kiddo, and he called you kitten instead, the energy between you both was different.

His eyes were darker and he was licking at his lips and then his mouth was slotted against yours, tongues tangling and hands roaming and the temperature in the room shot up to boiling. You were in his lap, grinding and letting his hands wander, and then he was thumbing at your tits and mouthing at your neck. Somewhere between him moaning kitten into your mouth and sucking on your lower lip to the way he was bucking his hips up into you and suddenly, it was more.

He was dragging your panties to the side and you were tugging down his seats just far enough, and then you were riding him on the couch. Sloppy and messy and a combination of the need for connection and the wish for affection, you were all but sobbing into his mouth as your eyes rolled back and his fingers dug into your bare flesh, and then it was over.

You were sweaty and hot, and you felt boneless as you let him lift you off of his body, pressing one more long kiss to your lips before he was tucking himself into his sweats and laying back on the couch and chuckling at you with a dark smirk when you wobbled on weak legs as you went to clean yourself up. It wasn’t awkward when you returned, it was calming and relaxed and you grabbed yourself a second plate of takeaway food and settled back down onto the couch with your feet in his lap once again, and a new movie on the screen.

The night passed with the rest of your movie collection, and eating a surprising amount of candy, and you inevitably changed into your comfy clothes when the hour passed midnight. You had teased him about his long hair while running your fingers through it, and he had made you flustered in return by speaking through his food and telling you how you weren’t complaining while tugging at it and bouncing on his cock.

It wasn’t until you heard the rumbling of the jeep that you felt that same dread and loneliness slip back into your body, the squeaking of tires on the stones and the slamming of the door one side, and you rolled yourself off of the couch with a groan, a scowl taking over in place of your smile as you scooped up everything you had and tried to shove it haphazardly into your bag, booking a cab in the process and leaving you phone on the side.

He began to grab at the rubbish littering the surfaces with you, the two of you stumbling and scooping up empty food boxes as you crammed them all into the kitchen bin, and did your best to clean up after yourselves, when the door finally opened, the sound of Stiles kicking off his shoes and hanging up his cute, humming happily to himself as he walked through the house.

“Oh my God, it smells like food in here. Did you get takeout? Did you save me any an-” He paused as he saw you, your eyes avoiding his as you grabbed your phone, smiling at the boy you had spent your evening with as he slid it towards you. The easy and lightweight vibe you’d found so easily with Mitch was now thick and tense, and you wanted to leave as soon as possible. “Hey! What are you doing here so late?”

You purse your lips, a tight smile on your face as you pushed past him without a word, and Mitch simply fixed him with a disbelieving look, the hyperactive of the pair of brothers was watching you go curiously, and both followed you to the front door as you pulled on your shoes.

“Are you mad at me, or something?”

“Yes, Stiles, I’m mad at you.” You bit your tongue from saying any more, wanting to let him wallow in it a little longer, and his jaw dropped and brows furrowed as he watched you go. Leaning up to press a kiss to one stubbled cheek, you patted his shoulder as you opened the door and stepped out, pulling out your phone to check on the taxi, only to see it pulling up to the curb, and you flashed him a toothy grin. “Thanks for being such great company while your brother was a jerk.”

He leaned against the door, muffling the sound of protest from Stiles behind, his body filling the doorway as he winked at you cheekily. “No problem, kitten.”

With that, their front door slammed shut, and you were stepping into your cab, tired and buzzed and ready to get into your own bed, and try to forget that the boy you loved had once again forgotten about you to chase after a girl who would never see him as anything more than friends.

[waywardwrestlewritingwaif]

Raise the Stakes, Part 8

I swear, I will wind this one up in the not-too-distant future but I keep kind of thinking of different things to do with it. Bad writer, bad. Finish your work!

You can find the previous bits of the story:

Place Your Bets

Part one two three four five six seven

Pairing: David Finlay x OFC (referenced Jay White x OFC)

Word count: 3,824

Content advisory: graphic sexual content, cursing

You feel like an idiot for actually believing that he was going to talk to you the next day, or that he was going to do anything other than ignore you the way he has since your arrival. If anything, he’s ignoring you harder than ever, or at least taking greater pains to be anywhere around you. If you see him, he’s always moving and with others. The wall between you is so thick you start gaslighting yourself, wondering if you imagined the tryst in your car.

The whole company is buzzing. It’s the last few days before the big Slammiversary show, the peak of their year. The excitement for the show and for finally having a small audience is mingled with the knowledge that every year, there are some surprises. THe bigwigs play their cards close to their chests, which means that the talent and behind the scenes people, yourself very much included, don’t know who could pop out at any moment. New Japan has been frustratingly tight-lipped. It’s supposed to be your job to bridge the gaps between New Japan and Impact but no one will tell you who might be trying to cross those bridges.

Is Nagata coming back? You’ll find out.

Another appearance by Phantasmo? Wait and see.

Tama and Tanga are mouthing off at the Good Brothers all the time on social media. Are they showing up?

It’s like shouting at a wall.

Finlay and Robinson are there, they tell you. Take care of them.

It’s almost more frustrating to hear that because, of course, you’d like to do that but one of them is very determined not to let that happen.

By Thursday afternoon, you’ve done everything you can.

“Take a day off,” Scott Damore, the man tasked with keeping this little beehive running tells you. “Go home and relax. You’ll want to be rested for Saturday.”

You want to tell him there’s no need for you to leave now but your aching back, neck, and head disagree.

“What time do you need me here Saturday?”

“Morning?” He looks surprised. “Just come in an hour or so before the show.”

“But what do you need me to do?”

“Sit in the audience, cheer at the right points, look excited if the camera passes you.”

“That’s it?”

“There’s nothing that needs to be liaised in the middle of a show. Grab a seat, have some fun. Be a fan for a few hours.”

You laugh a little because you can’t remember the last time you were able to just be a fan.

“You do like wrestling, don’t you?”

“I do,” you chuckle. “I just don’t really have the opportunity to indulge that very often.”

“So go home, have a nice dinner and a glass of wine. Do whatever it takes to get rid of that headache that I can see right through your skull. Spend the day in your pajamas playing videogames with teenagers online.”

You rise slowly, thanking him as you move to go.

“Hey,” he calls softly, “you’re doing a great job. Don’t think they’re not going to hear about it in Tokyo.”

It’s such a sweet note to leave on that you’re most of the way home, or to the temporary rental that’s passing for home right now, before you think about the fact that you haven’t laid eyes on David all day. He’s been around, because if he hadn’t been, you’re the one who would have had to field questions about it. But he’s been invisible to you.

You end up taking Scott’s suggestions very much to heart. You order dinner from the Chinese place you’ve become addicted to, watch early episodes of The Walking Dead, and have a couple of drinks until you can feel a warm blanket of sleepiness wrapping itself around you.

And that’s when your doorbell rings.

You grab your phone, although there’s a large part of you that wants to ignore it because it’s a little unnervingly late to be getting callers. But you pick it up just on that off chance, because there’s that sliver of hope that it’s…

“It’s David.” He sounds tired and grumpy but you don’t even care because he’s there, at your door and it makes your heart race. You buzz him in and then just stand in front of your apartment door like a complete idiot until you hear him knock.

As soon as you open the door, though, your heart sinks.

“Seriously?” he snaps, holding your panties up for anyone to see.

“How long does it take you to go through your damn pockets,” you hiss, trying to hide how close you are to crying.

“What the hell is wrong with you? You want me to get a restraining order?”

“I’m sorry,” you croak. “I know it was stupid, I just thought maybe if I left you a little reminder that… I don’t know. I thought that if I could get you back once…”

“You did not get me back. I’ve been lonely and I had a weak moment. And even then I couldn’t bring myself to fuck you.”

“Fine. I misinterpreted and thought it was me you wanted. Happy to have given you a show and a nice warm surface to rub one out.”

He throws your panties on the floor without another word. Now you have a problem. You know perfectly well that the second you let him out of your sight, he’s going to disappear. But the door to your apartment is going to lock automatically if it closes unless you step back inside and adjust it. So if you want to avoid giving him the chance to run away, you have to find a way to reach your discarded panties without allowing the door to close behind you.

Awkwardly, you bend forward but it’s immediately obvious that the offending garment is still out of reach. You try looking at him but he seems amused by your predicament. So you have to get right down on your knees and stretch, all while keeping your foot on the door, which weighs a ton. You’ve never felt less elegant in your life, nor more ridiculous than when you glare up at him. His expression is scornful and amused, but there’s a hint of something else you can see in his eyes. There you are, the bitch who he believes used him, the one who’s been begging for his attention, now on her knees in the most humiliating position.

You grab the scrap of fabric and scramble into a standing position before starting to speak. Unfortunately, you move enough that your foot slips from the door. You flinch as you hear the heavy thud.

“Fuck!” he yelps, loud enough you think the neighbors will show up.

It takes a second for you to register that he stuck his hand up to stop the door from closing and that the full weight of it crashed onto his fingers.

“Oh my god, I’m so sorry!” It’s like every time he gets near you, something awful happens to him.

You push the door open and take his hand, trying to see if there’s any damage. He’s obviously irritated and tries to pull it back but it occurs to you that this could be serious.

“Come on, you have to at least let me put some ice on that.”

“No.”

“You have to. If it swells up, your hand could be screwed up for Saturday.”

He looks positively disgusted as it dawns on him that you’re right but he lets you lead him gently into your apartment.

You take out your ice tray and wrap a few cubes in the dish towel, pressing it softly against his hand. He swats you away and holds the makeshift ice pack himself. There’s a little grunted sound that might be a thank you.

“What even happened?”

“I thought the door was going to lock if it closed, I just tried to stop it. Don’t know why I did that.”

“Thank you,” you say softly, guilt soaking your voice. “I would have been locked out.”

“Boohoo.”

“I’m really sorry about the panties, I just-”

“You’re just a disaster area and I need to stay the fuck away from you. I should have just thrown your little present in your face at the show.”

“I’m so glad you didn’t.”

“I’m going to wait a few minutes until I’m sure my hand is ok. I would really appreciate it if you would just not speak for the rest of the time I’m here.”

The look on his face is so pained, so defeated, that you just nod and look at the floor. But you can’t hold it in. The insanity of the situation you’ve put yourself in and the feeling of having him close enough to touch while also being so remote burns through your insides like a wildfire and you just… break.

You let one loud yelp out and then it’s nothing but tears and loud sobbing. He immediately looks up at you and although your vision is blurred, his expression isn’t unsympathetic but that just makes it worse and you cry harder as you try to speak.

“You’re right, you should stay away from me… I thought that if I came here… I thought that if you knew I left him… that I left him for you…”

Your voice breaks up and you have to wipe your face just to keep yourself focused.

“I didn’t think about how bad I am… for you… for whatever… I just wanted…”

You break down in sobs again and you’re just about to go and hide on the balcony until he leaves when it happens. A miracle. He lays the towel on the counter and walks towards you. Even through your tears, you can see that his expression is much softer and that allows you to hold it together until he lays his hands on your shoulders and pulls you just a little closer.

At that point, once again, you lose it, the memory of how that touch felt back before you’d made a mess of everything. He presses you close to his chest, which amplifies the feeling and you feel like you’re going to pass out.

“Look at me,” he murmurs, cupping your face with his hand.

You open your eyes a little and he makes a face.

“You’re a mess.”

“I know,” you blurt. “I don’t know why I do the shit I do, it’s just-”

“No, I mean your face… there’s mascara stuff happening. It looks like an oil spill.”

Despite yourself, you laugh, holding back the tears as he uses his sleeve to wipe your face.

“Your hands are freezing.”

“Yeah, well, I don’t have another pair with me. Besides, it helps with swelling, remember?”

You laugh a little again, trembling when he holds your face in his hands. For the first time in ages, he doesn’t have any of that vicious resentment in his eyes. It’s almost like the way he looked at you that day you had breakfast in the cafe, just sadder.

He looks at you that way for what feels like a long time, allowing you to regain control of yourself.

“You have really cute ears.”

“Wh- what?”

He smiles. “Your ears. They’re so cute, you have no idea. You always have your hair pulled back or up and I just remember noticing at one point. I’d smile about it all the time when you weren’t looking.”

“How do ears… be cute?” You can’t imagine what he’s talking about and yet the weirdness of the compliment makes it wonderful.

“Come here.” He takes you by the wrist and leads you into the bathroom. He positions you in front of the mirror, standing behind you and pulling you back against his chest. He takes your jaw in his hand and gently turns your head so that you can see the side of your face and your apparently adorable ear.

“You see,” he explains, running his thumb delicately along the outer ridge, “it’s kind of big and round up here, and then it tapers right off into this perfectly proportional little lobe and it looks like a half a heart. So they look like two halves of a heart. I can’t believe you’ve never noticed this before.”

He laughs softly and presses his face against yours, the scrape of his beard on your skin sending shivers through your whole body. His lips touch your cheek so fleetingly that you almost wonder if you’ve imagined it.

“Crying takes it out of you,” he sighs. “Let’s put you to bed.”

You feel numb as he leads you into the bedroom and helps you onto the bed before turning to close your blinds.

“Do you like being back in the States?” you ask, hoping you can stretch out his visit a little longer.

“Yeah, I do. I mean, it’s weird, all the back and forth lately. I swear I think I’m still jet lagged, or I’m just permanently fucked up.”

You smile as he sits down on the side of the bed. He smiles back but he makes no move to touch you or get closer.

“How do you like Impact?”

“I like not working Japanese hours.”

“Damn, I’ll bet. It’s one thing with the wrestlers but they don’t give you guys a break ever.”

You suddenly realize that you don’t want to talk about your work in Japan at all.

“I heard your brother is getting into wrestling too now?”

“Yup. I’m not sure Dad wanted either of us doing this for a living but I guess it really is in the blood.”

He takes your hands and places them on your stomach, very ladylike and demure, and pats them with his.

“You need to get some sleep. I’ll go fight with the door to get out.”

“Tell me a bedtime story?” You try to make yourself sound as cute and harmless as possible and not like some crazed broad desperate to prolong the moment.

“No.”

You pout a little, gratified when you hear him chuckle.

“Ok, once upon a time there was an extremely silly little princess who could never figure out what she wanted. And no one ever seemed to be able to help her decide what that was, no matter how hard they tried. The end.”

You can’t help but give a wry laugh at that. “At least it’s nice to be a princess.”

“Who said I was talking about you?”

You stare at him a long time, trying to figure out how to untie all the knots of what you’ve done. You can’t even imagine. You’re still trying to figure it out when he bends down and touches his lips, very softly, very quickly, to yours.

He pulls back but then almost immediately repeats the gesture. Then repeats it again. And again. He shifts so that he’s hovering over you, continuing to give you these little kisses.

“Stop that,” he rasps.

“Stop what? You’re the one kissing me.”

“Hm. I guess you’re right.” He leans in again. “Stop me.”

“I don’t want to.”

He doesn’t stop.

“Yeah, I don’t really want you to stop me either.”

And from that point, it gets more insistent, more romantic, and more passionate, until you feel him easing your pants down and running his hands over your thighs and ass. Determined that he is not just going to turn this into another resentful mutual masturbation session, you pull at his shirt. He wriggles free of it immediately easing you out of yours.

“How do you manage to run around without a bra on like that?” He squeezes and licks at your breasts with a little wink.

“I’m in my own apartment. I’m allowed to walk around however I want.”

“Yeah. But you don’t always wear one at work either, do you?”

He crashes his mouth into yours, tongue eagerly breaching your lips.

“Don’t think I don’t notice,” he pants.

He slides down and presses his face between your legs before you can think of a witty comeback, and once he does, you can’t think of anything. It’s so intense, so determined the way he goes at this, the way he picks up on every little twitch and tremor in your body, how he paces himself and you enough that it never feels like a rush to a goal. You don’t deserve this. You have no right to have him be this good to you.

You twist your hand in his hair, pulling it loose from the disheveled bun he’s always sporting. The parts of it that were trapped inside are still damp and you tug firmly to make him look up at you.

“Did you shower before you came over here?”

He smiles coyly and presses two fingers inside you, curling them like he’s beckoning you forward, making you moan and twist even as you’re trying to keep your mind focused.

“I shower pretty frequently,” he grins, “what’s it to you?”

He presses his lips close to your clit, allowing his tongue to flick ever so lightly against it.

“I don’t know,” you breathe, trying not to get overwhelmed by what he’s doing, “I like thinking you got yourself all cleaned up and handsome for me.”

You feel the soft vibrations of his laughter as he dives back into you, tongue pushing up inside you and making you scream before you grab at his hair again.

“I don’t know why you’re doing this,” you whimper.

“Oh I love doing it.”

“I mean I don’t know why you’re doing this to me, when I’ve been so-”

You’re cut off as he goes right back at it, licking and pushing harder for a few seconds before he whispers, “If you had any idea how often I’ve jerked off fantasizing about eating you out, you’d probably stop speaking to me.”

With that he pins you down and continues in earnest, going at you with a zealot’s vigor so that you can’t question him or do anything but scream and beg him to continue what he’s doing until you fall apart, trembling and gasping.

You feel him wriggle out of his pants before he pulls you onto his lap, kissing you and playfully biting at your lips, his arms wound tight around your waist. You run your hand slowly down the length of his shaft, smiling at the little gasp this elicits.

“I want you inside me.”

“Yeah…” the hesitance in his voice terrifies you. “I was… I was hopeful enough to get all showered and freshened up before I came over but I wasn’t so confident that I actually brought any kind of protection with me.”

“I’m on birth control. And I get checked regularly, I swear, I’m-”

He kisses you hard, so passionately that you almost tumble over.

“You sure?” he whispers when he breaks the kiss.

“Very sure.”

He flips you onto your knees and pulls your hips back towards him. As he enters you, you realize that you’d convinced yourself you weren’t ever going to get this again. It’s like a reprieve from prison, feeling him fill you up.

He leans down enough that the feathery tips of his hair brush against the skin of your back, a stark contrast to the powerful hold he has on your hips. There’s an unbroken stream of praises coming from him but all you can think of to whimper in response is, “Thank you.”

“What?”

He slows his pace just a little.

“Thank you,” you repeat. “I didn’t think you’d want to touch me again. I don’t deserve you being this good to me.”

“Oh sweetheart no.” He pulls you up and holds you against his damp chest, one hand immediately falling to your clit while he continues to thrust inside you. “It’s ok, I’ve got you. I want to feel you come again, I want you to come on my cock.”

You let yourself relax into his touch and it takes very little time until he has you falling apart for him again, your muscles contracting sharply around him as he clearly fights to keep control.

He flips you onto your back like you’re nothing and smiles down at your dazed face.

“Let’s do this right.”

He leans down and pushes himself back inside you slowly crushing your body close to his and planting a fierce kiss on your lips. His movements are agonizingly slow, letting you feel every bit of what’s happening, picking up only when you hitch your hips against his. He keeps you wrapped up tight and close, faces practically touching as he finally lets himself come, eyes locked on yours. It’s a long, tender few minutes while he holds you, touching his lips to your forehead.

“I love you.” You just put it out there before the post-coital haze can fade, hoping it’ll stop him from closing himself off again.

“I love you too,” he whispers, nuzzling against the side of your head. “But you knew that already.”

You dig your nails into his shoulders a little.

“Stay with me. Sleep here, please.”

He looks thoughtful but it doesn’t take long for him to smile, stroking your cheek as he does.

“Yeah,” he beams, “I will.”

He rolls onto his side and pulls you close again.

“Did you seriously think I was going to be able to stay away from you forever?”

“Yes. I was pretty sure that you didn’t entirely want to, but I figured you’d fight it off.”

“How long have we known each other?”

“About six years.”

“You were working at the dojo and we all used to hang out together, right?”

“Yes.”

“How long had we been there before I asked you out to dinner?”

“I don’t know. A few months.”

“Closer to four. And I was already so hung up on you that I could barely think straight when you were around.”

You look at him in surprise. Yes, you’d known that he’d flirted a lot, but at that point all the boys at the dojo were trying to scheme their way into your pants. You’d always assumed that his real interest had developed much later.

“Yeah,” he says, noticing your expression, “I was that into you that early. And you know damn well it only got more intense from there.”

He wraps his arms around you and presses your head against his chest, kissing your hair. “And you thought that having finally gotten to take you to bed, having gotten you to say that you liked me, that I was going to be able to walk away?”

You squeeze him tight and nestle against him, your head immediately finding its way to the hollow of his shoulder. And as soon as it does, your whole body feels warm and safe and content. You want to keep talking to him but you can’t because this sort of bliss doesn't allow you to stay awake.

[thebiscuiteternal]

“Competition”

Reverse Age Nies, One-Sided Attraction, Sexual Harassment, Ancient Chinese Roofies (but nothing happens), Nie Mingjue is this close to committing murder. And his friends might help.

__________

"What has you so troubled?" 

 Nie Mingjue blinked and looked up from adjusting the fletching on his arrows to find Lan Xichen watching him with concern. A short distance away, his friends from the Jiang sect were also studying him with expressions a bit more tense than usual. 

"Nothing. I'm fine." 

Wei Wuxian openly snorted. "You usually kick our asses way easier than this. Something’s got you off your game." 

He rolled his eyes, then scratched the back of his neck with an annoyed growl. "He's doing it again." 

Lan Xichen’s eyes went wide. “Oh, no. I thought that would have stopped by now.”

"Wait," Jiang Cheng cut in. "Who's doing what again?" 

"Every time they're in the vicinity of each other, Wen-zongzhu starts eyeing my brother like a particularly nice dish at a banquet." 

Wei Wuxian's nose wrinkled. "Seriously?"   

"Watch this." 

Turning, Nie Mingjue waved to his brother up in the stands. Nie Huaisang beamed and enthusiastically waved back, and, just a couple seats away, Wen Ruohan turned his head slightly in the middle of a conversation with one of the minor sect leaders. 

There was no missing the way his gaze tracked from Nie Huaisang's raised hand down his back and then back up before he resumed whatever he and the other sect leader were discussing. 

"Oh, that's fucking creepy," Jiang Cheng muttered in disgust.

"How long has this been happening?" 

"Seven fucking years. Ever since their first meeting as fellow sect leaders. Sang-ge insists he's only doing it to provoke us into embarrassing ourselves by making accusations we can't prove." 

"Yeah, no. If that were the case, he wouldn't be doing it where other people can see it."

"Unfortunately, no one seems willing to actually call him on it," Lan Xichen pointed out, disappointment written on his face. "Even shufu only reminds him of propriety every so often." 

"Which is why I told the disciples that Sang-ge has to have at least one guard at all times until we get the hell out of here. I trust that bastard as far as sect Leader Jin could throw him."

“A fair assessment.”

---

It was well after dark when a pounding on the door startled Wei Wuxian and Jiang Cheng out of bed. 

"Wen Ning? What are you doing here so late?" Wei Wuxian asked, ignoring his shidi's hissed question as to how the hell he knew a Wen. 

 "I am so, so very sorry!" Wen Ning stumbled over the words and nearly his own feet as he bowed low. "But there is a problem and your room was the closest!" 

 "What kind of problem?" Jiang Cheng asked, immediately suspicious. 

 "This way." 

 The two of them glanced at each other, then followed. 

Whatever possibilities they had been considering, finding Nie-zongzhu slumped against a pillar in a daze, barely able to stay standing, wasn't it. 

"Drunk?" Wei Wuxian asked. 

Wen Ning shook his head. "I checked his eyes. This is something much worse. He needs to see a-jie, but-" 

"We'll help," Jiang Cheng said roughly. "Wei Wuxian and I can get him to his room, then one of us can keep watch while the others get Mingjue and your sister."

They took up positions on both sides, slung the barely-conscious sect leader's arms over their shoulders, and put their own around his waist. Even with the sluggishness of the drugs, one of them probably could have carried him easily, and he made only the smallest incoherent mumble of protest as they started down the hall. 

"Wasn't he supposed to have a guard already? Why the hell is he out here alone?" 

"I have a feeling that no matter what answer to that question is, we're not gonna like it, and Mingjue's gonna like it even less." 

Nie Huaisang's room was empty of anyone when they arrived. At the sight of the overturned table near the door, Wei Wuxian cursed softly. 

"What?" 

"And was already addled enough to get lost. Damn. Lucky he came our way, instead of running into a Wen guard." 

"He must have tripped over it trying to get out of the room." Which would have meant he was aware of the drugs starting to take effect. "He wasn't just wandering around, he was trying to get help." 

Actually getting their burden onto the bed proved more difficult than getting him down the hall. Whatever it was he'd been given had progressed enough that it was more like moving an oversized noodle than a person. 

But they managed, and when Wei Wuxian turned, Wen Ning had already vanished. "Okay, so who has to break this to Mingjue?" 

Jiang Cheng winced, then sighed. "I'll do it. If someone shows up to make trouble, you have a better chance of defending Nie-zongzhu." 

Wei Wuxian clapped his shidi on the shoulder with a grin. "You're a brave and noble man." 

"Shut it."

---

Nie Mingjue stood beside the bed, a positively murderous scowl on his face as he watched Wen Qing work. "Well?" 

He didn't bother fighting the urge to growl. He had absolutely no illusions as to what this was about. There was only one reason that someone here would so obviously want his brother alone and entirely unable to defend himself. "Can you purge it?"

"Frankly it's a miracle he was still on his feet at all," she said as she finished running her tests. "The combination of sedatives and muscle relaxants should have put down a horse." 

"Qi circulation would help, but with that dosage, it'll still take hours. Since there's no danger to his breathing or his heart, it would probably be better to just let him sleep it off." 

"Why not?" Nie Mingjue asked bitterly. "He has been for almost a decade." That earned a round of flinches from the rest of the room's occupants. "But I know what Sang-ge will say," he continued. "And as much as it pisses me off, he's right. We have no way of proving that it was actually Wen Ruohan or someone on his orders. It could have been Jin-zongzhu or one of the vassal sects looking to settle a score." 

"What do we do in the morning?" Jiang Cheng asked. "Sect Leader Wen can't just... get away with an attack on another sect leader." 

"If that were the case, it says nothing good about the security here," Wen Qing pointed out archly. "Wen-zongzhu would still take offense." 

Wei Wuxian looked absolutely galled. "So we have to keep quiet about this? That's horseshit!" he protested. 

 "It is horseshit," Nie Mingjue agreed. 

Wen Qing sighed. "You're... not wrong. But you're also in the middle of a stronghold not your own, with only a few disciples to back you up. Can you actually afford to piss him off?" 

Nie Mingjue gritted his teeth, and for a moment, he was damn well willing to try. But... if he lost, that would leave Huaisang alone to face someone who'd already shown he'd use the worst of underhanded tactics to get him into bed. 

He forced his jaw to unclench and his hands to relax. "No. We can't. Not yet." 

Wei Wuxian looked like he had something to say about that, but Jiang Cheng elbowed him sharply before he could run his mouth. "So what do we do?"

"I'll tell Sang-ge what happened in the morning and see if I can find out what happened to the guard. And then I'm taking over guarding him myself. There's still another day and night to go before we can leave, and if that bastard had the stones to try once, he'll probably try again." 

 "If you don't mind other sects assisting, we could take a couple of shifts," Wei Wuxian suggested. "I bet Lan Xichen would, too." 

"I'll consider it. For now, the rest of you should get back to your rooms." He hesitated for the briefest moment, then saluted sharply. "Thank you all for your assistance and good night."

---

His brother was still sleeping when the door cracked open and Jiang Cheng poked his head in. "The first event for today's at si shi, do you need one of us to take over so you can get a bath and some sleep?" 

"I bathed before bed last night," Nie Mingjue replied. "But I suppose I could use an hour nap or so." 

The other boy nodded, then vanished. Roughly a fen later, the door opened again and Lan Xichen entered with a breakfast tray. "The others explained what happened," he said as he set it down on the bedside table. "Is he alright?"

"Hasn't so much as twitched, but his breathing evened out a few hours ago. It's just a waiting game, now." 

Lan Xichen shook his head a little. "Horrible. I knew Sect Leader Wen was brazen, but this-" 

A tiny, confused noise from the bed caught their attention, and when he turned his head, Huaisang's eyes were slitted open. They still looked cloudy, though, and when Huaisang tilted his head to look at him in turn, his brother blinked several times before registering his presence. "Jue-er? What time is it?" 

"Still early," Nie Mingjue murmured, gently sweeping mussed bangs out of his brother's eyes. "Do you remember anything from last night?" 

"Anything after the banquet?" Lan Xichen clarified. 

"N... no." Huaisang put an unsteady hand to his forehead, then rubbed his eyes. "I don't. Gods, did I seriously drink that much?" 

"No!" Nie Mingjue snapped vehemently, then at the startled looks from the other two, he took a deep breath to get his anger reined in. "You didn't. Someone gave you drugged wine." 

Huaisang stared at him, the color slowly draining from his face. "What?"

"Nothing happened!" he quickly elaborated. "Some of my friends found you and got me and a physician." 

"Still... Wait, what happened to Zhang Fai?" 

"I'd like to know that myself." 

"I overheard Liu Hei telling your deputy that he didn't report in this morning." 

Huaisang groaned softly. "Fantastic. So he's either in a dungeon or a ditch somewhere, or he left on purpose." 

"He better be in a dungeon or a ditch," Nie Mingjue muttered. "And I'm taking over guarding you." 

"No. We're not arguing about it. My friends-" he nodded to Lan Xichen, "-have offered to help when I absolutely have to take a break, but I'm not letting that asshole get near you again." 

"Jue-er-" 

Huaisang sighed and reached up to swat lightly at his cheek. "Stubborn brat," he chided fondly. "Fine, then. I'm in the capable hands of you lot until we leave for home." 

"Good. And on that note," Nie Mingjue said as he rounded the bed to flop on the other side, "You're up, Xichen. Don't disappoint." 

Lan Xichen smothered a laugh with his sleeve. "I'll do my best," he said with a teasing salute as Huaisang rolled his eyes.

Satisfied, Nie Mingjue settled in, and sleep claimed him surprisingly quickly. 

[blushing-starker]

Ok but Peter Parker leaving Tony voice messages in a reversal of infinity war? Swinging his legs over the roofs ledge, churro in one hand, mask half on, sugar everywhere and phone by a frail shoulder as he says

Hey. I know we haven't talked in a while and you're, you're probably busy resting or restructuring heavens or wherevers archive system so it's more efficient. But the little old ladys daughter bought me a churro. Showed me a new Chinese place too. It's small, tiny, really. I barely didn't see it until mr barnes saw the cat. You know, the gold one who keeps waving? It drives him nuts, the owner offered extra dumplings if i convinced him to stop touching the cat.

Anyway, it's a nice place, tucked between two skyscrapers, which is weird. You'd think it'd be replaced or something, but the office workers love visiting and take lessons to improve their pronunciation. The owners niece, her names Mulan, and I think that's awesome, got super excited when mr barnes showed up. I swear, mr stark, her english is way better than mine. She comes up, barely reaches my knee so you can imagine how cute she looked next to mr barnes, and pats his hand. Hold on, I've got churro stuck on a molar, shit. She pats him and goes, white wolf! White wolf! And at first, I have no idea what's happening, the owner is dying of laughter, the office workers are going back to their shifts and nobody can explain.

Turns out, when Mr black panther went away (he can't say it yet, the words are right there, he can practically taste the ash alongside the sugar and cinnamon but they won't move past his teeth and this is uncle Ben all over again and Liz and Betty and-) Wakanda kind of adopted mr barnes. He's not black panther, that's princess Shuri.

Ok, right now, hes, um. An Avenger in training, I guess? Like Vision. Besides the Sokovia Accords, they made the Wakanda Declarations and now the team has to, I think Happy said 'kick it down a notch'. Still, mr barnes has gotten famous with the whole pardon and everything and Mulan liked him! A lot! She had the action figure and the black panther poster. Her brother has a falcon bed sheet that's really cool. Redwing glows in the dark if you keep your head on the pillow for a few hours. I told him to put a book on it if he's too jittery to rest and wants to be distracted by the kight. I do the same thing with my Iron Man, um, aunt Mays old bed sheets.

Crap, I'm running out of battery. I just, I wanted, I want to take you there. God, that sounds like I wanna take you on a date, it's not a date. I mean, if you don't mind, wait. Nevermind, wrong choice of words; why would you be interested, it's me. And like I said, I know you're busy and all. Um, I think you'd like it, is all. Yeah, it's something you'd be into. Mr barnes couldn't stand the cat, but I'm pretty sure you might dig it. Although, miss pepper says those things could go either way. If you dont, you'll figure out how to make it stand still. Id bet my life on that.

Well, um, I gotta go. Ned and MJ are waiting for me. We're gonna watch Back to the Future since I leave for mit on monday. I got this roommate, Miles, who just transferred and I'm pretty optimistic about helping him out with his boxes and furniture. It can't be worse than when I dislocated my shoulder. To be fair, I thought Mays fridge would be a lot less heavy.

So, I'm going to stop now. I hope we can talk again soon. We always do when I'm back in New York, though. You won't have to wait a long time, at least. Maybe one day you can head to the Chinese place, upgrade the cat so it has more speed settings. Mr barnes looks funny trying to stop it. Ok, I'm at five percent.

Take care, mr stark. Don't let mr rogers hog the shower. And mr hawkeye owes me an archery lesson. I hope you have fun making weird physics experiments with mr banner and Thor. Loki is teaching Rhodey magic tricks to impress Morgan. It's really fun. I might swing by them, too. Say hi to her and her Iron Man doll. He's a bit ragged now, but still handsome. No worries, there, since it's you.

...

Love you, Ton-

Battery Depleted

(In a different time, he does get to see the place. Tony upgrades the cat. Babbles back at Mulans granddaughter. Orders the White Wolf special. Catches sight of tattered Falcon sheets clinging to a giggling baby, a great niece, maybe. Is comforted by an absurdly old man who reminisces about a reformed supersoldier swatting at a gold cat and a young boy laughing at his antics alongside a crying Tony.)

[deepdonutkid]

Gambling man

Warnings: swearing, smoking, drinking, dirty talk (starting soft here)

A/N: This is the first chapter of my newest series: Do you wanna touch ! There is also the summary of the story and the masterlist and the warning for the story as a whole. Have fun reading it and I hope you leave some love here!

There were no words to describe how annoyed he was. Why should he do something for Tommy after the regular work in the betting shop? John was tired and this was an understatement. He was nearly constantly yawning, rubbing his eyes and his head was aching. The kids kept him up all night. One wet the bed. This woke up the others. They wouldn’t go back to sleep that easily, of course and John was already half-dead when he arrived at work. And now he had to go to a swanky bar called “The mockingbird” to pick something up for this brother.

He didn’t even know what it was, but apparently it was expensive. Tommy was god-knows-where and John was sick of being his clown. It was always the same. ‘John do this’ or ‘John do that’ and he couldn’t escape it. Of course he tried, like a million times already. It has been like this since they were kids and even nowadays he couldn’t say no to his family.

After all, family was the most important thing in his life, but that didn’t mean that he couldn’t complain while doing the dirty work again. At least he didn’t have to care about his kids for the rest of the night. Polly was watching them. He agreed with Tommy about that. It was his only condition. When the job was said and done, he wanted a good night sleep. John couldn’t remember his last peaceful night, maybe before the war or even before his wedding. He was still a child back then, but he doesn’t really miss this part of his life.

Back then they were poor kids with some knives, robbing some fellows to get some coins. When he was hungry he had to steal, because begging never has been his thing. Looking back wasn’t glorious. It was just sad and nothing more. Now he has the money for food, but nobody will cook for him. Martha died during the war, so when he finally came home, broken and shattered; he was all alone with no one to comfort him. Well, he had the kids, but they behaved just as bad as waifs and strays. They still did. Always jumping around, asking way too many questions, destroying everything that comes to their hands and John just needed a break.

Just one night, was all he was asking for.

But first he had to do his job. Then he could think of all the ways he could spend his free time. So he walked to the pub and grumbled. How fucking garish it looked! Everything was so nice and expensive and everyone acted like they were about humans. John gave a sniff about these posh fuckers. The look in his eyes was dismissive as he entered this fancy place.

Indoors it smelled like wine and cigars. Not bad, he thought as he glanced around. The place was light and warm and full of laughter. Golden ornaments everywhere, he noticed and shook his head about it. This was nothing he cared about. They wouldn’t even serve beer here.

John walked to the bar and ordered a whiskey, Irish of course. Then he waited at the counter, like Tommy had explained to him. A man would walk up to him and asking him how the weather was outside and regardless of the cloud free sky that night, John should answer: “It’s fookin pouring.” What a bloody drama was this anyway? Why he couldn’t pick up the package like a normal person? But with Tommy and his secret plans and all this bullshit he had no other way, but to do as he was commanded.

The Shelby drowned one glass and then next and then the next, still no contact in sight. For the glimpse of a moment he thought he had to wait all night for the man to come. After his fourth glass of whiskey a small man with a bowler, white stubbly hair and a curly moustache arrived. He had an umbrella with him and used it as walking stick. The way he walked looked almost cartoonish. John gave his best not to laugh about this codger, especially when he asked the question. “Oh, young boy, could you please tell me, how is the weather outside?” The voice of the strange man was croaking, which made the whole conversation even more farcical.

Now he really had to bit his lip, so he wouldn’t burst out in laughter. “It’s fooking pouring”, John chuckled and emptied his glass.

“Good”, the old man said: “Just as I expected. Now I don’t need the paper anymore. Take this.” He handed John a newspaper with something inside. John took it and put it in the inside of his jacket. The dossier was safe there.

Instead of saying thanks, John shouted to the bartender: “One drink for him and one for me.” The guy behind the bar rushed to them and poured another drink. John wasn’t drunk yet, but sooner or later the whiskey would do his work.

The job was a simple transaction, but his part of the deal wasn’t done yet. First he paid the barkeeper and waited for him to leave. Then he sat there awhile and drank there quietly. He still didn’t know how he should hand the money discretely… until the man asked: “Boy, please do me another favor. Lend me some money for the cab.”

This had to be a sign, he thought and pulled out a thick wad of money, which he slipped into the wrinkly hands of the geezer. “This would be more than enough. Farewell.” He muttered and stood up from his stool, ready to leave.

Just in this moment he realized nature was calling and he should do that, before walking into the cold night of Birmingham. So he took a little detour to the lavatories.

With steady steps he headed to the exit. One last time he turned around. There was something interesting about this place after all. In the back were four card tables. John liked to play, whenever he was at the garrison, but even if he left right away, the garrison would be closed as soon as he arrived in Small Heath. It was almost midnight by now, but John was now more drunk than tired and he though one or two rounds of cards couldn’t hurt.

So he walked towards the tables and studied them to pick the right one. On the first were just some posh greybeards, which weren’t interesting at all or at least not for John. The second was empty and on the third table were two Chinese men talking in their mother tongue. The last table caught his attention. There sat the croupier, a man with a scar across his face in his forties, a Spanish guy with gelled hair and a lady. She had her hair open, so the blonde locks would reach her tailbone. This seemed by far to be the most interesting table.

Without a second thought he sat down at table number four. The other players nodded slightly, when he arrived. The round wasn’t done yet, but the pot was full of chips and in the middle was a golden hair pin. Now he realized why the woman wore her hair open. She had used her pin as her stake.  

John decided to take a closer look at his fellow players. The two men were exactly what he thought they would be… greasy, compulsive gamblers. Nothing more to say.

But the lady… Well, there was something about her. John couldn’t point it out yet, but he was eager to find out. Everything from her golden shiny hair to that arrogant grin on face was capturing. She had a fierce look on her face as if she knew something everyone else didn’t. Every little detail like her dominant cheekbones or tilted chin seemed to add to the impression how privileged and entitled she was. Yet, she was quite charming in her pink dress. Her clothing seemed to be expensive, but it completed her appearance.

John was so caught by her presence; he didn’t recognized when the round ended. The other player with the scar and the hat folded, so she won. As she revealed her hand, her opponent groaned and slapped his fist on the table. Apparently she had nothing, but a good poker face. The Shelby was pretty impressed. He had played cards with some girls before, but none of them were really good at it. They just tried to flirt with him, while playing.

So he leaned closer to her and whispered: “Any luck today?” She gave him a dismissive glare and then collected her stake.

While she twirled her hair around and put the pin back in place, the croupier asked John, if he wants to join for the next round. He nodded, pulled some bills out of his pocket and gave it to the dealer. In return the dealer handed him some chips and started riffle the cards.

The man who just lost the last round stood up and left the table grunting. Then the lady declared in a dry tone: “At least more than him.” John let out a little laugh. Obviously she was funny too. He already took the bait and was curious to get more information about her.

The Shelby slid closer to her and smiled at her, but that didn’t seem to please her. “Don’t fucking look at my cards.” She growled, raising an eyebrow. John bit his lip, glaring at her with amusement. Then he noticed, he didn’t even check his hand, so he did that- a jack and a five- and then placed a bet.

After he had done that, he started staring again and couldn’t stop until she nagged: “What exactly do you want from me?” He chuckled. As if he would know that?

“Whatever you want to give me”, he grinned and leaned forwards as he tried to get in a more comfortable position on his chair. While talking he noticed her smell. It was a combination of roses, vanilla and oranges. What a great contrast to the people he usually talked to. He wanted to ensure, that this wasn’t an illusion, but sniffing on woman wasn’t a publicly accepted thing to do. Even he knew and heeded that.

With widened eyes she gazed back at him. “So… you want to get slapped?” she answered, with blank eyes. The woman was quite serious, but John couldn’t help but smirk at her. He liked her fervor.

John smothered to say a little delinquent ‘Maybe’ and placed another bet as it was his turn again. His cards weren’t the best, but he wanted to keep playing.

They played for a while. Then out of the blue the lady asked: “Should I take you silence as a yes? Or did you swallow your tongue?” He didn’t expect her to insist on an answer.

His hand scratched the back of his head as he searched for words to say. “No, I just…”

“Just what?” she interrupted him, before he could even finish his sentence. Now she seemed to sneer.

Her laugh made him laugh too. It was contagious and he always had a thing for fierce women. “I just want to know you name at least” he added.

“Does this matter?” she responded while fumbling with her chips: “Aren’t we here to play cards, ey?”

The Shelby nodded. She was probably right. He shouldn’t care about this, but yet he still had the desire to know more about this mysterious creature in front of him. “To the game… no” he murmured: “To me, yes.”

She looked down at her cards, as she raised the stake. He didn’t know, if she would ignore him again, so he introduced himself first: “I’m John.” He raised her by two more chips.

The blond groaned as if she was almost disappointed. Then in the next round she called and said with the most Russian accent he could imagine: “I’m Darja, but you can call me Dascha.” Now he was surprised again. He didn’t expect that. From first sight she didn’t seemed to be Russian… but who would have guessed he was Romani. They would have thrown him out, if they knew.

“It’s a pleasure” he nodded and waited for the other player at the table to end his turn. That slickly guy folded and now it was just the two of them in the game. John decided to call and as he placed another red casino chip in the pot he whispered to himself: “Dascha”

Her name was like a sweet melody to him and fitted her image as an entitled little madam. They moaned the loudest though, when they get a good fuck. The picture of them doing it in the lavatories wouldn’t leave his head as he peered into the distance. How he would shag her, grabbing her tiny little butt, while she begged for more.

This little though brought him unholy amounts of pleasure. With a grin on his face he finally arrived back in reality, just to notice that he should shut his cards down. She waited patiently and then showed her hand.

The two of them starred at the cards. He had won with just a three of a kind. That was luck indeed. She had a pair of queens.

“Seems like you’re lucky tonight”, she mumbled as she took a sip from a colorful drink.

His eyes widened from surprise and amusement. Grinning at her he asked: “Oh, is that so?”

The blonde woman clucked her tongue and gave him a dismissive stare. “Don’t get cocky after just one round.”

So the next round started. They played for a while. Sometimes she had won and sometimes he did.

Now his cards were even better than the last time. John had to bit his lip to hide his smile. Soon after he placed a bet, he got an idea. The guy on the other side of the table was nearly out of money and so it was clear it was a race between them now.

When the other guy reached his limit, John put three of his red chips in the middle of the table and said to the croupier: “Open a side pot, please.” Then he slowly turned to the woman. She hasn’t changed mimic or position, almost statuesque. There was still this mysterious smile on her face. But then she moved her hand to call.

“Shall we make this more interesting?”, he purposed and flicked a coin in his hands.

She glared at him for a while, completely silent, as if she tried to read his thoughts. Very quietly she hummed. John had to focus on the melody to even hear it, so it wouldn’t get lost in the surroundings. Finally she tilted her head and inquired: “What do you have in mind?”

It seemed like the Shelby had caught her interest as well and he was ready to play with her. John licked his lips and laughed. “Just a little bet. If I win this round, we’ll meet again… on a date.” He knew just too well, that if he mentioned something more sexual, this little lady would run away. But as his grandfather used to say, he had to think of the long game.

The Russian nodded. “But what if I win? What do I get? Do you even have something interesting for me?”

Now he was a little lost. He thought he’d never get this far. What could she want was the question in mind. Well, he couldn’t give up his pocket watch and he didn’t have anything else expensive with him. But on the other hand she seemed to be rich enough to deny his offer.

John was desperate, not completely, just a little. This might be his only chance with a woman like her. So he did what he could do best- be an arrogant asshole! He looked at her the whole time until he made his move. His eyes wandered from her to his manhood and then back to her. With a cocky smile on his face he underlined his wager.

And she burst out in laughter: “Hell no!” It took almost a minute until she calmed down again. She was still giggling like a five-year-old, when she added: “This is not going to happen, but I’m going to take your ring as a stake. So you’ll learn your lesson.”

At first he didn’t know what she meant. Then he looked at his hands. Like other Romani he wore at least five of them. Most were family heirloom, but his wedding ring wasn’t. All his other rings were luxuriant. His wedding ring was simple golden and had no ornaments like the others. Until now he had completely forgot about this. Of course he was still wearing it. He never took it off. Not during the war and not after Martha had died.

John had never questioned it, but now he had to. If he wasn’t so sure, he would win, he would have never agreed to this. It was a weird feeling to take it off, after all those years.  He turned the ring in his hand, still worried if he would get it back. Then he heard her giggle again. She felt confident, John wouldn’t cross this line, but because she was so convinced, he finally put the ring on the table. “Then teach me”, he grunted.

Once again it was time to turn the cards. His heartbeat was going crazy as his fingers reached for the two cards in front of him again. He flipped them as quickly as possible. There was no chance, she would win. John had a fucking flush on his hand.

He was watching her closely, as she played with one lose streak of her blond hair. One moment she was laughing, and then she hung her head. Suddenly he would realize the bittersweet nuance in her smile, as she had shown her cards. The Russian had lost again. “My luck ended, when you came to this table, I guess”, she mumbled.

On the other hand John couldn’t feel luckier. He took his bet back, put his ring back on and piled up his chips gleefully. “Oh, you shouldn’t be sad. You just won a date with me”, he joked knowing he was just rubbed salt in her wounds.

Amused he watched her as she pouted her lips. She stood up from her stool, stretched herself and declared: “I better get going, before I lose the rest of my dignity.” A nod to the croupier was enough to tell him to change the chips back into money.

John did the same, when he had put his money away, he ran after her. “Wait, darling”, he said under his breath: “You don’t get away this easily. You still owe me something… Let me walk you home, so I know where I can pick you up for our date.”

She chose to ignore him, so he grabbed her wrist to stop her from going away. Then she turned around to him and raised her eyebrow. “Do I?”, she asked: “I thought this was a joke or would you really gamble away your wedding ring? What would your wife say about this?”

Before he could even answer, she added: “I mean I feel very flattered by your attention, since you’re somehow good looking or whatever, but I don’t fuck married man.”

“Stop right there”, he replied: “Yes, I was serious and don’t bring my wife into this discussion. The date doesn’t mean we have to have sex… I mean it would be nice, but that’s not my point. I want to get to know you… and I won.” Somehow he couldn’t tell her the truth. He was a widower with four children and he didn’t want her to pity him. Actually that was the last thing he wanted right now. In his opinion it was better if she thought he was a married asshole, than a poor, sad widower.

With a straight face she wrest herself free, just to offer her arm, so he could link in. Her cheeks were gleaming red as she moaned: “Let’s just get out of here.” Gladly he would take her hand and guide her outside.

It was still warm outside and it would be one of the last pleasant evenings in Birmingham for the next time. Fall was coming soon and it would get way colder. Right now, he and the lady to his right could walk down the street without a coat. John was mentally prepared to give her his jacket, if she would need it, but she was silent as they left the nightclub.

“Why do you want to walk with me? I don’t live so far from here”, she asked and looked the other way.

It was so dark outside; he could barely see his own hands in front of him. Yet he knew that her face was still flushed with shame. His smile was undeniable. “Well”, he explained: “You don’t come from Birmingham and so you might not know, it’s a dangerous town for a woman like you.”

He could see the silhouette of her head nod. Then he heard her laughter. “And you are here to save me?”

Of course, it wasn’t his job to bring her home, but it felt like the right thing to do and after all, he wanted to spend more time with her. It was a weird thing, yes, since he had only known her for maybe an hour or less, but there was something about her, something captivating and he thought that eventually- if he could get to know her better- he could figure out why she was so fascinating to him. There was something in her eyes, something he had never seen before and he was keen to know, what it was. Or maybe he was just needy and an idiot to fall for the first pretty woman he had seen for months. After a while he answered: “Yes, I do.” His voice was soft, when he spoke, it sounded so unfamiliar.

“What make you think I need a savior?” was her next question. Somehow he got the idea, that she would never stop asking things. The way she said it seemed so innocent to him. He had seen war and violence en masse and he knew his city well enough to predict something bad, without having any second Romani sense like his aunt.

“Nah, I just think it’s better to be safe than to be sorry”, he responded and caressed her arm with his thumb. Usually he wasn’t so sweet, when it came to woman, but he still tried to charm her. And it somehow worked, at least she giggled again.

Then she joked: “So what? You’re going to heroically fight them off with your fists? Is this what you want me to believe?” Suddenly she stopped walking and just stood there, staring at him.

John chuckled and stopped as well. “No, I have a gun.” He didn’t want to scare her, so he just said it very calmly. And well, there was no need to show his Webley to her, right?

The Russian laughed even louder. Somehow she managed to say: “Excuse me… English is not my first language… Is gun another jargon for cock?”

Another time this would make him laugh as well, but now he thought she was not taking him seriously, which hurt his big male ego. After all, he was a goddamn Shelby, a King of Small Heath, a gangster or whatever people liked to call him… and yet the little lady in front of him was twitting about him.

So he opened his jacket and his gun shimmered in the light of the nearest lantern. “See? I’m not joking, honey”, he grunted. Others would fear him now, but she looked very unbothered right now. She wasn’t impressed or scared, she hid all her emotions beneath her brilliant poker face again.

They stood there in silence for quite a while. John wasn’t sure how to proceed and he was still waiting for her reaction.

All the sudden a big smile from one ear to the other was carved into her skin. Her eyes seemed so lost, like she wasn’t mentally here anymore, when she lifted her hand to his head, or to his cap to be precise. She snorted as she hovered with her finger over the edge of his flat cap. He was about to tell her about the razor blades he had sewn in there, when she presented the blood on her index finger. “You are one of these Peaky Blinders. Am I right, John?”

He felt caught, even though this wasn’t actually a secret. It was more like everybody knew who he was. So why couldn’t he say something now? All those words were stuck in his thought and he couldn’t break nor speak. His head was all blank and he still wanted to turn this conversation around. The only thing he could do was to nod.

“Good”, she whispered and came close to him: “I like when someone doesn’t play by the rules, because neither do I.” The Russian moved away and her cheek briefly brushed against his.  A shiver ran down his spine. Her voice was electrifying and he wanted her to moan his name over and over again.

She was so mean, when she teased him like this, but he couldn’t deny that this was appealing to him. “Fuck”, he groaned and put his hand on her waist to pull her closer. Now he could see her face in the light of street lantern again. To his pleasure he noticed that she seemed at least a little scared. “Following the rules is just so tiring and on top of that also boring. Why should I keep playing by the book, when is so much more fun, just to break some shit?” Under his fingertips he felt the fabric of her dress and how she trembled.

Just like he thought it was getting to cold for just a summer dress like hers. “Do you want my jacket?”, he offered with a smile and moved his hand to her cheek to caress it gently.

Slowly she shook her head and refused his kind gesture. “No, I’m fine. Thanks.” They were still close and she hasn’t hurried away, which was a good sign for him.  He liked to feel her warm body against his. The last time he had felt something like this was so long ago.

A small, but very vulnerable smile graced his lips. “Dascha?” Calling her name like was oddly intense, but his heart jumped when she squeaked. He hadn’t imagine her to be so soft all the sudden as if she was melting in his hands. And the look in her eyes gave him the rest. It was like the world had stopped for a second. There was no sound, no other smell and no other visual sensation. Everything else became so blurry. Now there was just her. Maybe it wasn’t even his action, maybe the whiskey had made him to it, but he leaned in to kiss her.

Their lips met a lot sooner than he thought. John was so relieved, she didn’t push him away and seconds later he was surprised how soft and sweet her lips tasted. He couldn’t get enough of this. His hands were all on her body. Right now everything else that happened this night was irrelevant. This was worth all the stress. And he was glad, he had enough courage to do it.

Even when they parted, they were still strangers to each other, but John was sure he felt a connection. Heavily breathing he couldn’t take his eyes of her. She was still panting. Her lips were swollen and her whole face was heading a shade of red unknown to mankind, but fuck, she was beautiful.

“You stole a kiss from me?” It sounded more like statement than a question, but John nodded in agreement. Yes, he did that and he was so proud he did. It was the most interesting thing, that has happened to him in months and he would do it again, if he had to.

The blond bid her lip and moaned: “Now I have to steal it back.” He hadn’t even realized what she just said, when he felt her lips on his again. She had caught him in surprise and he got the idea how she must have felt, when he attacked her like this. It was rushed and yet perplexing good.

They only stopped, because the bell announced the next hour. She looked up at the sky as if she could she the clock tower from this dark alley. “I have to go now”, she explained: “But let’s meet here again next week. Same spot at eight.” Then she pointed above them. Only now he noticed they were standing at the corner of St. James and George Road.

“Can’t wait”, he replied and smiled. There was no point in asking her again, if he should walk her home. She seemed to be sure to go home alone. The Russian nodded and hurried away. He kept eying her until she disappeared behind the next corner. This whole encounter was so surreal.

On the way back home he thought about her and hoped he wouldn’t forget their next meeting. Now he just had to figure out, how he would convince Polly to take care of his kids. When he got home everything was silent. The kids were asleep and he would go straight to bed to. As he stumbled out of his clothes and into his bed, he still could feel the touch of her lips. Needless to say, he had a wonderful sleep that night.

tagging: @theshelbyclan​ @justalonelyslytherin​ @bonniesgoldengirl​

[official-weasley]

The Irreplaceable Charlie Weasley: Pt. 8, Ch. 9

PART 8: WHERE IT ALL ENDS

Chapter 9 - The Invitation

Charlie

1 year later...

“Easy there, boy!” I held up my hand at the Swedish Short-Snout, my wand ready in the other one. “We talked about this, Thor. One day without breathing fire at me and we'll call it progress.”

I started working with Thor again last month. I have to admit I needed quite some time to even go and see him. He was the one that burnt Nova and even though I knew it wasn't his fault and he was in pain, I made the mistake of blaming him.

—

After more than a year of her being gone, I think it's safe to say I am getting back on my feet. As much as I can, anyway. I am regularly corresponding with all my family as I promised Bill on his last visit. Nobody talks about my feelings or how am I feeling anymore and I am grateful for that. Things are back to normal.

That doesn't mean that I forgot about her. That I don't miss her. That I don't think about her because I do. Every. Single. Day. But it's easier than it was, I have to admit. It's bearable now. And between how busy we are in the Sanctuary, me working for the Order and recruiting new Wizards, and listening to the Wireless about people going missing every day, I think it's safe to say I am doing okay.

I got used to coming home to an empty house. Pip is in a better mood as well and he is keeping me company when he's not out delivering letters. I started talking to my co-workers again and I have to say that it has been one of the best decisions. They make me feel less lonely.

I am also sleeping better. There are still nights when I wake up to Nova screaming or from a nightmare, reliving what happened but it's getting rarer and I am so happy about that.

It might sound harsh but Bill was right when he said that the tragedy that happened here that night made so many Wizards wanting to join. We get new letters and recruits daily.

So many who I've known have died or been murdered that I have to say I am getting used to it, no matter how it sounds. Everything is getting more serious with every new day and we have to be prepared for the worst. I am just happy to hear my family and friends are okay. That's all I can ask for after what happened over a year ago.

I try to think of the whole thing from a positive note. Nova was such a loved person and when I try to get someone to fight for our cause they mostly join because of her. She had so many connections but nothing we did ever worked when we tried getting people on our side while she was alive.

Death does bring people closer together and if they needed a reason to see that this is everyone's fight, I have come to terms with it that the attack needed to happen.

I am not going to deny that I would leave everything behind if it meant she could come back but no matter how I beat myself about it or how guilty I feel, it won't bring her back. I can be as content with what happened as I possibly can be. I promised her I will continue doing what I love and I came so far, even with Thor.

I also promised her to be happy but as much as I am trying, I still feel the burden of her death on my shoulders. I still think it should have been me and I will never be as happy as I was with her no matter how much I laugh at my co-worker’s stupid jokes. It's simply not the same and I know it never will be but I don't mind.

I came to the conclusion that I was lucky to get to experience what I had with her. Not many people do and some search their entire life for it. I had it, even though it was cut short, I can't complain. Before I met her, I knew what I wanted to do with my life and if I can't be with her, I can at least do what I love and that counts for something.

It helps if I try to stay as positive as I can. So many things remind me of her that it's hard to keep my mind off her. But instead of being miserable about it, I try to look on the bright side.

Just yesterday, I was having dinner with Andrei and some of the others and we started debating whether Norbet is a he or a she.

He has been acting strange for years now and Nova was the first to bet that he is actually Norberta. We can't do a gender check-up on him because he is too vicious which only proves that she was right. When Andrei asked what we are going to name him I said that we should call him Norberta as Nova called him the first time she observed that he might be a female.

It used to pain me thinking of things she liked and did and I couldn't even imagine doing something like that a year ago but I am pushing myself to try harder. I promised her I will be happy and I am trying to do my best to make her proud.

—

“There you go!” I beamed as I levitated a steak in front of him and he didn't try to kill me before eating it. Thor has been hurt more than any other Dragon in the Sanctuary when the Death Eaters attacked us and he has been having trust issues ever since. Who could blame him really, I was just glad he was okay. It took the Healers months before they mended all his wounds and his left leg is still not completely healed and perhaps it never will be.

“You're a good boy, Thor!” He breathed smoke out of his nostrils and I knew he was proud of himself even though he probably wanted to eat me for dinner.

“Steaks taste good, Charlie tastes bad.” I laughed at my joke, knowing full well I was talking to a Dragon.

“Charlie, there you are!” I stepped backward, carefully, and turned around to see Andrei panting. “We have been looking all over for you! I thought you were with Arto today.” He tried his best to catch his breath.

“I decided to give Thor another chance at keeping me alive.” I smiled.

“At least you're wearing your protective gear this time.” I looked behind Andrei and saw my brother step cautiously from behind a boulder.

“Bill!” I walked to him and gave him a hug. “What a surprise! What are you doing here? Is everything okay?” I frowned, suddenly remembering that we are at war.

“Everything's fine.” He grinned, showing his white teeth. “I was just in the neighborhood and decided to visit you.”

“In the neighborhood, huh?” I crossed my arms on my chest and lifted my eyebrows in disbelief. He was a bad liar and even worst at making jokes.

“I'll tell you everything when you're done.” He beamed at me. He looked like he couldn't wait to talk to me about something and he looked so happy. Well, he looked like that most of the time since he met this girl Fleur at work.

Bill, Andrei, and I made our way down to the village and we said goodbye to my boss.

“Want to grab something to eat or want me to cook for you?” I winked at him.

“What put you in a good enough mood to cook?” He asked surprised. I rarely did. It's not the same if you have to cook only for one person. The only time I ever really put the effort in was when it was my day off and I made pancakes for myself.

Nova and I ate pancakes for breakfast every time we had a free day. It became our tradition and it was the one thing that I could keep going.

“Thor, the Dragon you just saw, didn't try to eat me today instead of his steak for the first time since we were attacked.” I said proudly.

“Wow, what an achievement.” Bill laughed, trying to understand my situation.

“And he didn't try to burn me alive, another first!” I continued. I knew he couldn't understand how big this was as I never understood what all the treasure he kept describing in his letters was worth.

“I'm glad you're alive, brother.” He tapped my back as we stopped in front of my cottage, me unlocking the door.

“So what delicious meal will I be served today?” He mocked.

“Steak or meat pie?” I scanned my fridge for ingredients.

“Steak!” I laughed at his enthusiasm.

“I was hoping you would say that. It's easier to make.” I grinned.

“How are you, Charlie?” I winced at his question. I was doing okay but I still didn't like it because I never knew what the question was going to lead to. Bill was the only one I talked and wrote about Nova. I was happy when he came to visit me last year when I completely shut myself away from everybody. I might be corresponding with all my family and friends again, but I only share my feelings and thoughts with Bill.

“I'm fine. Pretty busy this time of year.” I took a frying pan out of one of my counters and a pot to cook the vegetables. “We're getting another Welsh Green tomorrow and our Chinese Fireball's eggs are hatching any day now!” I heard Bill chuckle at my excitement. He was the only one I could talk to about this, besides Tonks. They were the ones who didn't look at me like I was mental when I talked about Dragons as if they were baby Crups.

“I wish I could stay.” Bill said while pouring some Firewhiskey in the glass I gave him. “I would love to see baby Dragons hatch.”

“If you're prepared to stay awake day and night and keep your eyes on 3 crimson eggs for 8 hours straight, be my guest.” I laughed and poured myself a glass as well while waiting for the pan to heat up. There was something about Muggle cooking that I found soothing and I burnt fewer things than if I were to use magic.

“On the second thought, just send me a picture, will you.” We both laughed.

“How are you, Bill? How is Fleur?” I teased him. Nothing made me happier than seeing him blush whenever I mentioned her name.

“I'm good. Great actually.” He cleared his throat. “She's the reason I'm here today.” He looked like he was going to explode from excitement any moment now.

“Oh, Bill. You didn't come here for love advice, did you?” I frowned. “Because I am the last person to give you advice on that.”

“No.” He grinned. “But I am here to ask you something.” His smile grew even larger.

“Well spit it out, will you!” I quickly put the steak in the saucepan and sat back next to him. My head leaning on my hands, staring at him. At this point, I reminded myself of Penny who used to stare at us whenever one of us was about to tell the others a secret.

“I asked Fleur to marry me.” He said, shyly.

“I think my heart just skipped a beat!” I said and stood up. “This is the best news I have heard in a while!” I pulled him into a hug. Nova was right, he was going to find someone just right for him.

“At least someone's excited.” He sighed. “Mum's reaction wasn't even close to yours.”

“She'll warm up to her.” I tapped his shoulder in reassurance and then went to check on the steak and turned off the boiling water with vegetables.

“Yeah. She thinks we are rushing it with everything that's going on.” He rolled his eyes.

“Bill, I think you're old enough to make your own decisions.” I turned the steak around.

“Tell that to her.” He laughed. “I know she's the right one for me, Charlie. I have never felt this way about anyone.” I glanced at him and seeing his cheeks match his hair was simply adorable. Nova would've loved teasing him.

“She will see how happy you two are and she'll come around.” I brought the plate with food to him. “And besides...” I put the second one into the pan. “When did mum ever stop you from doing something?” He laughed at my question.

“Whatever do you mean, Charlie?” He looked amused.

“Piercing your ear, letting your hair grow out, becoming a Curse Breaker, wearing nothing but leather...” I looked down at his boots.

“Don't give me that judgemental look, get over the fact that I have Dragonhide boots!” He rolled his eyes playfully at me.

“I don't judge your look.” I lifted my hands in my defense. “But those...” I shook my head, looking at his feet again. If I was close enough he would've punched me in my arm.

“So what did you come here to ask me?” I said when I finally sat down, placing my plate in front of me. I cut my steak, waiting for him to stop chewing so he could speak.

“I want you to be my best man.” He said so quickly that I needed a second to realize what he just asked me. I looked at him and he looked nervous. I hated the fact that he did, I knew exactly what was going through his mind.

“I don't know how you feel about this, giving the fact that you asked me first and then...you know...” He started blabbering. “But I can't imagine anyone else standing by my side on my wedding day and if it wouldn't be too much for...”

“Oh, shut it, Bill.” I stood up and hugged him so tightly that he couldn't continue speaking. “I would be honored.” I tapped him twice on the back and pulled away.

“Are you sure?” He asked, looking a bit less worried.

“Yes. Just because I didn't have a happy ending doesn't mean I am going to be bitter about someone else's. Especially yours!” I pointed my fork at him. “So stop blabbering like a baboon and eat your steak!”

“You sound just like mum.” He laughed and couldn't help but join him.

It was great having him here. I missed my family and now more than ever it wasn't safe for me to go home and visit. I was glad I will be able to see everyone at his wedding and I was nothing but excited for them to get married.

I already met Fleur. I visited Bill a few months after they started dating and when she came into his office, he introduced us. She was so polite and as nice as I remembered her from the first Triwizard Tournament task. I thought they looked fantastic together and seeing Bill happy and looking at her, being so in love, how could I not be excited for them.

I didn't care what mum thought about them getting married so soon. I just wanted him to be happy and in these uncertain times, who wouldn't want to celebrate love. Seeing him exchange vows with Fleur and seeing all my other siblings be happy and in love was my purpose now. I can be the fun uncle in the family, everyone knows I have the best sense of humor anyway.

Sometimes, I surprised myself how okay I was with everything after such a short amount of time. But I have made my peace with what happened to me and knowing I can't do anything about it, I can at least be supportive of others. I know how it feels to be loved unconditionally and I hope all my siblings get to experience that.

Just because I don't have it anymore, doesn't mean I have to be angry about it. I would never try to ruin that for anybody else. It's beautiful and I am grateful I have the memories of it and I am trying as hard as I can to keep them alive. It's all I have and all I will ever need. I have amazing family and friends and my dream job and that's enough for me now.

[dramatic-squirrel]

Daminette December Day 1- Inspiration

Here is my first attempt at writing for Damianette December. For my own sake, I have chosen to be liberal with the themes but (at least to me) they still fit, so fight me.

@daminette-december2019-2020

Her mind was blank. Even though she saved Paris on a daily basis, could create a new stage outfit for Jagged in 3 days and babysit for Manon, she couldn’t solve this problem. It was her first Christmas with Damian and she was spending it in Gotham, yet she couldn’t figure what to give him.

“Tikki, what am I supposed to do!? I don’t have any ideas. I want it to be perfect but I don’t know what to give him.” The park was empty except for them, everyone else was inside avoiding the cold.

“You don’t have to be so nervous Marinette. Damian will love whatever you give him.” Tikki patted her in comfort through the purse she was always in.

“Yes, but I want it to be perfect. It’ll mean more if I put a lot of thought into it, it’s just that I can’t even think about what to get in the first place,” her pacing left a long trail of footprints in the snow. “I don’t want it to be generic, but his family is rich. He literally could get anything he wanted, what do you get someone who could just buy it themselves anyway?” At that point, the only thing she knew for certain was that she was going to handmake the gift.

She didn’t want to mess it up either. She really liked Damian. Unlike her, he was always composed and calm and even though he came off as rude to most people she knew that he really cared about those he let into his life. She saw how gentle he could be, especially to his pets, and she saw how his pets trusted and loved him. She knew that, despite the fact that he claimed his friends and family annoyed him, that he cared about them. She even bet that he would do everything he could to protect them.

Damian was amazing, and the one final thing she knew about him was that Damian wasn’t really used to affection. He brushed off Dick’s constant care towards him, even though Damian relied on Dick the most out of everyone in his family.

So she wanted to make something special for him, that would show that she also cared about him. But no idea’s were coming to mind.

“Why don’t you try walking around Gotham a bit, Marinette?” Tikki’s voice was reassuring. “You always come up with great ideas when you look at the environment around you. I’m sure if you looked around Gotham, where he lives, you’ll come up with something.”

A sigh left her in resignation. “You’re right Tikki,” she tried to be positive about it all. She still had time, and she always managed to solve her problems in a pinch. Her confidence restored itself as she left the park to go wander around the city he called home for the past six years.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Things were not going so well for Damian either, although he had to admit, he hadn’t seen a problem until Grayson had brought up the issue. 

“So, Babybird, want to tell me what you got Marinette for Christmas or am I going to have to guess on my own,” he barged into the room like he owned the place.

“What are you talking about, Grayson?” The complete confusion on his face clued Dick in to the fact that Damian was not in fact joking around. 

“You are aware that Christmas is coming up soon right?”

“Yes?”

“Okay,” the utter despair on Dick’s face as he realized what this all meant. “I’d have expected this when you first came here but, you do know that it is usual to give gifts to people on Christmas, right? Bruce has celebrated Christmas with you, I think you’ve even given Jon a gift. So, you know that your supposed to give a gift to Marinette right?”

For the first time in his life, Dick saw Damian look uncertain about something. “Well, I assumed since we’ve only known each other for a few months at this point, that we didn’t know each other well enough to present appropriate gifts to each other. After all, I doubt she knows all of my interests or what i might need, and I certainly don’t know that much about Marinette. In fact, I doubt that she is getting something for me in the first place.”

Dick could only shake his head in dismay as he placed a hand on Damian shoulder. “I can tell you, without a shred of doubt, that Marinette is preparing a gift for you. She’s the kind of person that gives everything her all, including her relationships. Lucky for you, there is still time to get her something, so do you have any ideas?”

Shocking him further, Dick saw another emotion on Damian’s face that he’d never seen before, panic. Damian had no idea what to do, he never really had to think about getting gifts for others. He never cared about anyone enough to have to deal with this but, Marinette was different. She was sweet and understanding and badass, she could handle her own against some of the Gotham Rogues with no problem. And when she smiled it was so bright that it rivalled Grayson’s, it was like an angel smiling in front of him. 

He never really cared before if people hated him but, Marinette was different. “What do I get her Grayson? I don’t know nearly enough about her to get her something she would like.”

“You know that she’s a fashion designer, you could give her something related to that.”

“That’s idiotic. I know nothing about what she would need or what would be the best present. She probably has most of the essentials and I have no clue what specific equipment or supplies would be most useful for her. Maybe I should do some research on Marinette to find out.”

“No no no. Wait a minute Damian. I’m here to stop you from doing stupid stuff like that. Before you invade her privacy and screw things up lets calm down and think this through a bit more.” He managed to stop Damian. “If you aren’t sure what she would like, or need, how about you make something for her. Marinette makes a lot of things by hand so she would know and appreciate the hard work you’d put into making a homemade gift.”

Damian nodded his head in understanding. “I am good enough at painting that I should be able to make something that she would like, but I still have to know what to paint. Thank you Grayson, I need to ponder over this for some time.”

He left the room without looking back at his brother. Grayson just committed to watching over his younger brother until he was sure that things were going to be all right.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

A few days before Christmas, Marinette and Damian met in a small hole-in-the-wall coffee shop that Tim recommended to Damian. Since Marinette had to go back to Paris soon to spend the holidays with her parents and helping out at the bakery. They decided to celebrate Christmas with each other a bit earlier.

They sat down and ordered their drinks, hot chocolate for her, and a cup of Assam tea for him. Their drinks arrived and before Damian could bring it up, Marinette spoke up first.

“So, I know we never really discussed this beforehand but, because it’s the holiday season, and I wanted to give you something nice, I got you a present. Of course, you might not like the gift and if you hate it I’d understand and I can get something else for you but, I hope you like it.” Her rambling cut off as she shoved the package she was carrying in his face.

The gift was long and rectangular. It was wrapped, in much to his secret embarrassment, in dark green wrapping paper with the Robin logo stamped all over it. Sometimes he wondered if Marinette actually knew his identity as Robin. He opened it up and stared in surprise at what she got him.

“I was having trouble deciding what to get you, when I was walking around Gotham and I saw a shop that sold old weapons, like swords and stuff,” she started to explain. “I remembered that you had this katana in your room that didn’t seem to have a sheath and I got inspired to make this for you.” 

The katana sheath she made was a dark green, so dark that, unless under bright light, it looked black. In a black paint, that was almost obscured by the dark green, she added a subtly design to the sheath, a chinese-style dragon. Near the top of the katana was the only bit of bright color to the whole design, a bat painted in gold. 

The words left his mouth before he could stop it, “A dragon bat,” he whispered. He couldn’t believe how well the sheath fit him. From his favorite color to the subtle design to the reference to Goliath that she didn’t even know about. “I love it Marinette. It’s the perfect gift. In fact, it makes me a bit nervous to give you my gift now but, it would be rude not to.” 

When Marinette saw the painting and what he had painted, she was confused for a moment before tears started falling down her face. “Is that… me?” she had to ask because she couldn’t believe it. 

When she started crying he freaked out for a moment and quickly explained. “Grayson recommended that I make something for you so I made this painting. I had to think for a while before I could figure out what to paint. Grayson suggested that I paint a portrait of you as I see you, so I felt inspired to make this. I apologize if your upset that I painted you without asking first, I assume that’s why your crying?” He wasn’t really sure.

She shook her head. “No, no, it’s just, the painting is just so… I never knew you thought of me that way. It’s so touching, I’m actually really happy. Thank you so much Damian!” She pulled him into a hug, and although he tensed a bit, he soon hugged her back. 

Damian had chosen to paint Marinette from when they first met back in Paris. Except in the painting he had given her white angel wings and managed to make her look stunning. It was a painting that removed any doubts she may have had about his feelings her for, and it was a gift she was going to treasure for the rest of her life.

[awhitehead17]

jason and dick bonding as siblings ,

I had this idea and ran with it, then it accidentally derailed and here we are. I had fun writing this and I hope you like it. Please enjoy Dick and Jason bonding because their chaotic younger brothers are too much to handle! 

The unexpected sound makes Dick startle. He looks around for a moment in confusion before it clicks to what the sound is and where it’s coming from. Getting up from the couch Dick glances at the clock and frowns, why would someone be knocking on his door at 11 at night?

Dick sighs as he makes his way to his apartment’s front door, where the rapid knocking was coming from and opens it up. He’s surprised to find Jason standing there with his fist raised to continue knocking, a scowl plastered on his face, wearing civvies and a plastic bag hanging from his other hand.

“Jason?”

Jason looks up and rolls his eyes. Without an invitation he barges past Dick and wonders into his apartment. “About time Goldie! I thought I would be out there all night by the time you answered.”

Dick stares at his brother trying to work out what’s going on. Coming up short with answers, he simply shuts the door and follows Jason into his living room. Dick silently watches as his younger brother makes himself at home as he settles onto the couch (where he had been sat previously), and as he empties the plastic bag’s contents out on the coffee table in front of him.

Beer and takeaway boxes now cover the table surface. Dick raises an eyebrow in question, when Jason finally spots his look he gives Dick an innocent shrug. “What? I was in the neighbourhood, I wanted food and a beer and thought why don’t I go see my wonderful big brother who lives nearby?”

Shaking his head in disbelief Dick doesn’t say anything as he goes to the kitchen to grab some cutlery for them to use. When he returns to the living room he settles down next to Jason, he trades a knife and fork for a takeaway box when Jason holds it out. He couldn’t help but hum appreciatively when he opens it and finds Chinese food.

After a moment of silent eating and drinking Dick turns to Jason. “Okay so that was your bullshit excuse. What’s the real reason why you’re here. No one has died have they?”

“Unless you count my dignity then no. No one has died. The kids were being brats so I left the Manor to get away for a bit.”

Dick pauses at Jason’s explanation for his unexpected appearance. “So in order to avoid your younger brother’s you’ve driven to a completely different city and decided to visit your older brother?”

Jason shoots him a grin. “Exactly! You’re one of the last people they would think that I would hide with so I’m currently safe from them hunting me down.”

Dick blinks. “Not that I’m complaining about your presence Jay, but why? Though the food is appreciated, so thanks.”

“Well, like I said they’re being brats and I wanted to get away. Bruce is off on some conference in Tokyo or something. Damian keeps pestering me to show him more violent moves, like League of Assassin stuff. I refused to teach him anything which resulted in him becoming more annoying and even more bratty. Tim is constantly getting on my back about cases and reports, like does that kid ever take a break? Jesus. Oh and not only that but he asked me for advice Dick! Advice. No one comes to me for advice!”

Dick continues to blink at his brother. Trying to work out what he should address first. He wants to laugh because it’s hilarious thinking that their younger brothers have annoyed Jason enough for him to leave the city to get away from them. On the other hand he feels like he should be concerned about them all. He wonders how they survive without him there meditating between them.

Instead of speaking Dick shoves a fork full of food into his mouth and chews as he thinks it over. Next to him Jason huffs and takes a sip of his beer. It’s strange, he thinks to himself, who would have thought he and Jason would just be chilling in his apartment eating and drinking while they talk about their younger siblings. Or the fact that Jason had decided to come and visit him in the first place.

Eventually Dick asks, “So what advice did Tim want? You seem more distraught over that than sparring with Damian.”

Jason swallows before answering. “Well if I sparred with the gremlin Bruce would have my head. We’re already on a thin line and believe it or not I’d rather not do anything to destroy that.”

Dick hums knowingly in response, he knows that Jason is slowly integrating himself back into the family. There’s still a rather lot of tension between him and Bruce but from what Dick’s witnessed, it’s slowly improving.

“As for the baby bird well…” Jason trails off before turning to look at Dick with an almost fearful look, “well he wanted sex advice dude. Sex! Like what the hell!”

Upon hearing that Dick ends up chocking on his food. The unexpended answer making gasp in shock but burst out laughing at the same time. He dumps his container on the coffee table and coughs into his arm until he gets control of himself before turning back to Jason.

“What? Tim went to you for sex advice, why?”

Jason throws his hands out in disbelief. “I don’t know! I couldn’t work out if it was a prank or not but he was genuinely being serious.”

“Did he say why he went to you? What did he ask?”

“He told me that he approached me because I wouldn’t dance around the bush with answers, or so he thought.”

Dick couldn’t help the laugh that escapes his lips. Just the image of Tim asking Jason for sex advice is too amusing. He wonders which one of them blushed more or who happened to be more embarrassed.

“What did he want advice on?” Dick asks again, genuinely curious to find out what Tim wanted to know. “Did you come here to avoid talking about sex with our teenage hormonal younger brother?”

“I’ve come here to save my sanity that’s why. I’m not telling you what he asked, it’s too traumatizing to repeat. In response to his questions I told him to approach you, but obviously he hasn’t yet or else you wouldn’t be as curious as you are asshole.”

“Why me?”

Jason shoots him a look like he’s being stupid. “Because between us you’re the womanizer, not me.”

Dick snorts as he grabs a beer and leans back into the couch, taking a sip of the drink as he does. “Like you haven’t been laid plenty of times before.”

“Still not as often as you dickhead. Anyway, expect a call from him soon or something. Why couldn’t the kid just ask Google or some shit, isn’t that what they do these days.”

“You sound like a grandad speaking like that. You’re part of the same generation Jace.”

Jason raises his eyebrows and points his drink in Dick’s direction as if making a point. “Ah you see, being dead for a couple years changes that.”

Dick shoots his brother an unimpressed look at the mention of his death. Jason just couldn’t go one night without bringing it up or making a joke about it. He chooses to not comment on it, instead saying, “I’ll go buy some condoms and lube and put it in a gift box for him in preparation then. I’m sure that’ll help.”

That comment makes Jason bark out a laugh which Dick soon joins in with.

“Oh I bet he’ll love that.” Jason says grinning after a moment.

It was then that Dick notices all of the food has now been consumed and most of the beer has been drunk. He glances at his brother. “What are you doing for the night? Do you want to stay here because the guest room is free if you want it.”

Jason pauses and frowns, Dick has the feeling that he hadn’t actually thought about that at all in his haste to arrive at his apartment. There’s a moment of silence between them and Dick is picking up on Jason’s hesitance for the first time that night.

Not wanting to make his brother uncomfortable Dick insists, “take the room for the night then in the morning we can go for breakfast if you want. There’s a 24hr place down the road that serves a fantastic fry up.”

As if food is the deciding factor, Jason nods and sends him a small smile. “Sounds good.”

Dick climbs up to his feet and starts gathering up the rubbish. “Okay, so go ahead and use the bathroom, there’s spare wash gear underneath the sink, and go to bed. I’ll clean this up and then see you in the morning.”

He pins Jason with a pointed look when his brothers goes to argue. After that Jason bids him a goodnight and retreats to the spare bedroom. Dick sighs and begins clearing everything up.

He certainly hadn’t been expecting that this evening, though it certainly wasn’t unwelcome. Their relationship had always been rocky but since Jason is slowly getting involved with the family again, Dick has to admit he’s really liking the way their relationship has progressed. They still have a long way to go but with how well that night went he thinks everything will be okay.

[toomanystoriessolittletime]

Haunted

Summary: As the daughter of Viggo Tarasov you knew everything and everyone. And you knew John better than anyone else. But no one was supposed to find out about it.

Pairing: John Wick x Reader

Warnings: there’s so much filth in this I’m telling you

Wordcount: 4.033 unfz

A/N: Hey so with the intention to give John some love this happened. Probably will write a sequel to this. Don’t know when though.

Masterlist

A fake smile. A fake smile was all you were capable of tonight. It was your father’s birthday. And no matter how much you hated the world he was living in, you loved him. Against all odds. He had taken you in when your mother wanted to give you away and raised you on his own. Well the nannies did. He had just turned nineteen when he took you in. 

“You look pretty.” A familiar voice behind you said. Turning around you looked into your brothers eyes.

“Iosef.” You fake smiled some more.

“The skirt is a little short, don’t you think?” He asked, kissing your cheek.

“None of your business little brother.” You smiled sweetly back.  He rolled his eyes and turned around to leave you alone.

Walking over to the bar you ordered a glass of champagne, looking at the mirror behind the bar. Your hair was braided in a big bun on your left shoulder. The hairstylist had outdone herself. You didn’t wear a lot of makeup, just your deep red painted lips. The black leather dress hugging your body like a second skin. Your boobs never looked better. Biting your lips you leaned on the bar, waiting when you saw him. He was standing on the other side of the bar looking at you. John had been away for a while. You took you champagne glass, winking at him before you turned around. 

“Happy Birthday nána.” You said, hugging your father tightly, kissing his cheek.

“Thank you, my malishka.” He smiled. He raised an eyebrow at you as he looked at your outfit.

“John won’t even be able to enjoy his evening if he has to take care of all the guys in this room.” Viggo whispered, his hand on your back.

“I can take care of myself, Dad. I don’t need John to protect me, he’s your guard dog.” You said.

“That makes him yours too. Even if you don’t like it.” He kissed your cheek again. As you turned in his arm you caught John’s eyes on the balcony outside.

“I’m gonna go outside for a bit.” You smiled. Viggo squeezed your hand and nodded. Slowly you made your way through the room, aware of all the eyes following you. If it was because of the way you were dressed, or because you were the only one out of the family who chose a life outside the brutality of the high table, you didn’t know. 

Your life was almost normal, apart from you rent free penthouse apartment in Manhattan your father had gifted you for you thirtieth birthday a couple years back. As a fashion designer you had made yourself a name in the industry, and you made it all without your father's influence.

You sat down in one of the lounge chairs, your head tilted up towards the sky to try to make out some stars. The last time you had seen a clear sky full of stars must have been when John had taken you to Iceland. 

John and you…. You weren’t a couple per se. Yes you loved him, and you were pretty sure he loved you, but the thing with the two of you could never work. Your father would have him killed if he ever found out about the two of you. John had been the only man you had ever slept with, the only friend you ever called when you had a bad day, the only man who seemed perfect for you, even if he was twenty years older. Yes you had tried dating other men. But all they saw was the money of your family, not you.

“I can hear you thinking.” John said. You turned your head to see him leaning against the wall, a cigarette between his lips.

“And what am I thinking?” You asked, turning your head back to look up.

“You’re overthinking.” 

You chuckled as you pushed yourself up from your seat. Slowly, making sure your hips swayed from side to side, you walked over to him, seeing how his eyes seemed to undress you the closer you got. Stopping in front of him, you looked up into his dark eyes. Even with your high heels he still was a head taller than you. His all dark suit made him look so dangerous, yet you couldn’t help but smile as you saw that he was wearing the tie you had gifted him.

“You look so sexy in that dress…” He whispered. You bit your lip.

“And you aren’t allowed to touch me all night…” You whispered back. Looking around to check if someone was watching you got on your tiptoes, close to his ear.

“How badly do you want to fuck me against the wall right now John? Want me on my knees my tongue doing wicked things to your perfect and hard cock between my lips.” 

You heard him inhale deeply.

“You’re playing with fire Honey.” He growled.

“Oh… I know.” You kissed his cheek and turned around, suppressing the dirty smirk as you walked away from him.

You could feel his eyes on you the whole night. With whomever you talked, wherever you walked… Even if you couldn’t see him, you knew he was there, in the shadows, watching.

“When am I getting some grandchildren daughter?” Viggo asked at some point. You were sitting at the table, dinner had just been served, drinking your second glass of champagne. You shrugged.

“First I would need to find the right man.” You sighed, a pinch in your heart as you saw John walking past Viggo.

“You are the most beautiful woman in New York City, I am sure there are men everywhere you want you.” Viggo said. You smiled.

“Just because they want me, doesn’t mean I want them nána. Apart from that I don’t have time for children. I’m taking the label to Paris Fashion week this year.” You said. The confirmation had reached you just this morning that you would get your own runway show this year. 

“Don’t forget your duty to the family.” Viggo pointed out, making you suppress the urge to roll your eyes.

“You have Iosef for that.” You grinned, making Viggo laugh.

“You are right about that. Iosef…” You zoned out as your father began to talk to your brother. John looked at you from across the room. There he was, all you ever wanted, but couldn’t have. Sighing you emptied the second glass of champagne. Suddenly you couldn’t wait to be home. Conversations like this were why you got out of it all. The only thing that kept you sane when you were still living at home had been John. At first when he had started working for your father you had been scared of him. He never smiled. For years. Or at least when you saw him. It was sometime shortly before your twentieth birthday that he had saved you from being kidnapped from the chinese who still had some unfinished business with your father, that your opinion of him changed. He hadn’t left you out of his sight until you were fast asleep that night, staying with you until the morning. 

Your father had been gone for a week and John hadn’t left your side because you had been scared shitless. It was then that you saw another side of him.

You were walking back from the bathroom, intending to go home when a hand grabbed your wrist and pulled you in the dark corner behind the wardrobe. A body pressed you against the cold wall making you shiver. Lips crashed down on yours, and you couldn’t fight the sigh from deep within your chest. It seemed like John had enough of your little game. With force he parted your lips, his tongue fighting over dominance with yours, as your hands wandered up his back into his hair. Possessively one of his hand grabbed your ass, the other hand on your nape bringing your closer to him.

“I bet you’re just as soaked as I am hard right now... “ He quietly growled against your lips, kissing you again. The way he was working your body making your knees weak.

“John… John stop. Someone will see…” You whispered, pulling at his hair, making him groan. He left your lips, wandering down your neck, sucking on the skin before he inhaled deeply.

“You’re wearing the perfume I bought you…” He whispered, kissing your collarbone. You bit your lip to keep yourself from whimpering.

“If you weren’t wearing that leather skirt i would fuck you right here, your family in the next room be dammed…” His tongue dipped in between your boobs.

“Fuck…” You whispered, bringing your hand in front of your mouth. You were dripping with arousal, regretting the decision to not wear panties underneath. You felt his hand on your knee, slowly pushing the skirt up as high as possible. You bit into your hand as you felt his hand run up your inner thigh. At this point you wouldn’t care if he fucked you right here.

“Fuck you’re soaked.” He groaned, he pulled your hand away from your mouth kissing you hard as his fingers brushed over your pussy. He chuckled.

“No panties. Such a bad girl.” He whispered, two of his fingers teasing your clit. You bit into his bottom lip.

Loud footsteps in the hallway let John stop all his movements. You heard some talking in russian, making out your father as one of the men talking. Looking up at John you were about to push him away when he began to rub your clit again. You shook your head at him, opening your mouth in a silent cry as he pushed a finger into your entrance. You could clearly hear your father only around the corner while John added another finger. Closing your eyes you bit your lips as you let your head fall back against the wall. Pulling his fingers out he stroked your slit, gathering your juices and quickly rubbed your clit. He grinned as he looked down at you, seeing you fall apart. You could already feel the familiar tingle of your orgasm approaching, John kissed you again, his finger leaving your clit to push inside you again scissoring his two fingers inside of you, finding your G-Spot.  The voices seemed to come closer, and you put your hand over your mouth in hopes it would dampen your nearing climax.

Your walls already clenching around him you closed your eyes, hoping you would be able to keep quiet when he pulled his finger out, his hand leaving your pussy. With a shit eating grin he brought his fingers up to his mouth, sucking your juices off. You opened your mouth to say something when he put his finger into your mouth, his head coming closer.

“Your father is just around the corner…” He whispered. You sucked on his fingers, tasting yourself. Swirling your tongue around his fingers, you made him groan. Biting his finger, you grinned as he pulled them out of your mouth. The voices and footsteps moved away, making you breathe out loudly.

“I hate you John.” You said.

“I don’t think so.” He whispered before he kissed you again.

“You might wanna check your make up before you get back to the table.” He whispered with a smirk before he left you alone in the dark.

The ache between your legs wasn’t leaving you to actually follow the conversation on the table. Not that someone would have expected you to anyway. As a woman your opinion wasn’t as important as the men’s anyway. 

John was sitting across from you at the table. The stern expression on his face he alway had when he was working, even if he was supposed to enjoy himself. But his eyes… his eyes weren’t really focused on anything except you.

“Nána I’m going to go. I’m meeting someone.” You said, getting up from your seat.

“Someone?” He asked with his eyebrow raised as he got up. The table chuckled.

“Yeah.” You answered him, kissing his cheek.

“Let John take you to your… someone. You shouldn’t be out in the city by yourself at night.”

He kissed your cheek. You smiled up at him. Against all that he had done, he still was your father, who always took care of you.

“John? Would you take her to wherever she wants to go? Igor is going to take over for the rest of the night.” Viggo said as John made his way towards you. He looked at you.

“Of course Viggo.”

John was the perfect gentleman. He helped you into your coat as you said your goodbye’s, silently thanking the heavens you wouldn’t have to see them for another couple of months. With his hand on you upper back he guided you out of the restaurant and into the elevator. When the doors closed you breathed out relieved.

“I should tell him.” You said quietly.

“He will understand. He wants me happy.” You turned around, careful to leave some distance between you, there were cameras all around.

“He won’t.”

“How do you know? How can you be so sure of that?”

“I know another man than you, Kroshka.” He said with a dark tone. Closing your eyes you turned around. You felt him step closer to you.

“I’m trying to get out.” He whispered.

“I’m trying to get out and then maybe, when we’re not right under his nose…” His breath ran over your neck. You swallowed, opening your mouth to breathe out shakily. He had told you that this life wasn’t what he wanted to do for the rest of his life. 

“What then?” You whispered.

“Maybe then I won’t have to stop when we’re in a dark corner. Maybe we can find a way…” The elevator doors opened. You could see John’s car in the garage in the front. You began to walk towards it, thinking about John’s words. If he were to get out… If he would ask you if you leave with him… A part of you had always been wondering how he really felt about you. He opened the passengers door for you and waited for you to take a seat before he closed the door and walked around the car to get into the driver's seat. As soon as the door closed behind him, his lips were on yours, his arms pulling you into his lap to straddle him. He ripped at your leather skirt, tearing the slit even higher. 

“John.. Not here… “ You gasped as his hands wandered up your thighs.

“The windows are tinted…” He groaned. “I just need to taste you.” His teeth pulled at you bottom lip as one of his hands lay flat on your pussy, making you push your chest against his face.

“Everybody knows we left together…” You whimpered as he began to move his hand.

“Fuck them…”

“You just said something entirely different…” You bit your lip, your hands grabbing the car seat, as he pushed two of his fingers inside of you.

“I swear to god if you won’t make me cum I will serve you your balls for dinner….” You groaned as he fingerfucked you. He chuckled. His thumb came up to your nub, slowly circling it as his other hand cupped your breast.

“Ride my fingers and you get to cum.” He said, his dark eyes looking up at you. You rolled your hips, throwing your head back. Pulling your dress down his face sank in between your boobs, the scratching of his beard over your skin making you whimper as you felt your climax approaching. 

“Fuck me John….” You moaned.

“Not yet. Not here…” He groaned, his lips closing around one of your nipples.

As you felt your climax washing over you, you pulled John’s face up, your lips crashing down on his to dampen your moans. Closing your eyes you rode it out, shivering when he flickered your clit again, being too oversensitive. You felt him smile against your lips.

“You know I do, right?” He whispered. He would never say that he loved you, yet deep inside you knew, even if you were more confused about him in any way.

“Me too.” You said.

“Where do you want to go?” John asked as he drove the car out of the garage. Sitting in the passenger's seat, his hand on your thigh, he looked at you.

“I wanna go home.” You said.

Parking the car in the underground car park on his usual place of the building you were living in you didn’t wait for him to open the car door for you. Taking your purse you were out of the car before he could even look, already walking towards the elevator. He ran after you, pushing you against the wall of the elevator, pressing the button for the penthouse. Pushing your arm over your head, he held your wrists together with one of his hands as he kissed you forcefully all tongue and teeth, making you moan loudly. His other hand ran down your body, hooking your leg around his waist as he rubbed his crotch against your middle.

“John…” You sighed as he left your lips, sucking on your neck. The elevator door opened with a bing.  His hand let go of your wrists to pick you up. Crossing your legs behind his hips you giggled as he carried you to the door of your apartment. Searching for the keys in your purse he set you down, hugging your from behind while he kissed your shoulder.

Finally with the keys you opened the door, throwing your purse on the table next to the door as John closed the door behind you, locking it. Without turning the lights on you walked down the hallway.

“Come and find me.” You said over your shoulder, pulling at the zipper of your dress as you walked away from him. You were just in the door of your bedroom when you felt his body pin you against the doorway, kissing you longingly. Pushing the already opened dress shirt from his shoulders you let it fall to the floor as he pulled the zipper of your dress down completely, pushing the fabric to the ground. 

His hands on your hips he kissed himself down your naked body. You held on to the doorway as he hooked one of your legs over his shoulder, his face disappearing between your legs. Flattening his tongue he licked one long strip from your pussy to your clit. Arching your back one of your hands disappeared in his hair, the other still holding on to the doorway as he began to eat you out, humming against you.

“John… Fuck….. Please I want you inside of me…” You whimpered, your legs shaking. He sucked on your clit, making you explode, your core clenching around nothing.

He looked up at you as he dipped his tongue inside of you. Pulling at his hair you brought him up, holding onto him on shaky legs. Tasting yourself on his lips as he pushed his tongue inside your mouth you let your hands run down his chest, forcefully opening his belt. Smirking he looked at you as you pushed him against the opposite doorway, getting down on your knees in front of him as you pulled his pants down. You didn’t waste any time, his cock already glistening with precum. Humming you licked from his base to the tip, making sure to catch every drop of him, your hand closing around his base, massaging his balls as your lips closed around his tip and you sucked. With a curse his hands wandered into your hair. Swirling your tongue around him, like you were licking an ice cone you looked up at him as you released him from between your lips, pumping him with your hand.

“You wanna fuck my mouth, Jonathan?” You asked. He looked down at you, his eyes wild.

“I wanna make you choke on my cock my Kroshka. Wanna mark you from the inside.” He growled. You moaned, licking on his cock. Parting your lips you took him almost to the base, making him groan loudly. Bobbing your head, you held on to his ass to get leverage as he slowly began to thrust forward. Looking up at him you hummed as you took him completely.

“I love how you take my cock…” He sighed, thrusting faster. You loved it too. Humming your eyes rolled back as he hit the back of your throat.. He was big. He was perfect, like made for you. You felt him pull out of your mouth, pulling you up to kiss you.

“Let me fuck that perfect pussy…” He whispered against your mouth, slowly walking with you towards your bed. The citylights the only light source in the room, diving everything into a soft yellow light.

He turned you around just before you reached the bed, his lips on your shoulder as he slowly pulled you down on the bed so you were on all fours with him behind you. Getting out of his pants he took his socks off, pulling your high heels off.  You looked over your shoulder as he grabbed his cock, the tip teasing your folds.

“Just fuck me already John….” You begged.

“But we have all weekend…” He cooed with a grin. Slapping your ass hard. 

“I don’t care, just…” You moaned loudly when he rammed inside you, sinking into you in on move, making you feel every vein and ridge inside of you. Grabbing your hips harshly he began a punishing pace, fucking you hard. This wasn’t about feelings, this was about feeling each other. Desperately to feel the other. Meeting his thrusts you felt one of his hands leave your hips to sneak in between your legs, finding your swollen nub as he leaned down and began to kiss up your back, ending in your neck, his chest against your back as he thrusted deeper.

“I love how you take me…” He bit your earlobe. His fingers between your legs flicking your clit, making you climb towards your third orgasm of the night.

“I love how your cock feels inside of me…” You whispered, biting your lip, as he changed the angle, hitting your G-spot perfectly. He began to thrust faster again, his fingers continuing the attack on your clit.

“Are you gonna cum for me again?” He whispered against your ear. Moaning you nodded, turning your head to kiss his lips. 

“Cum inside me John. I wanna feel it inside of me.”

“Fuck…” He groaned, kissing you quickly before he got back to stand behind you, ramming inside of you hard. His hips slapping against your ass in the most obscene sound.

He slapped your ass again. And again. And again, his handprint to be seen on your ass for days. You threw your head back as the knot inside your belly exploded, your whole body on a high as your orgasm washed over you. Deeply he fucked you through it, your name on his lips. You felt him thrust a couple of times when he stopped, his cock twitching inside of you as he spilled his load deep inside of you. Trying to steady your breathing you let yourself fall with your chest against your mattress. His cock slipped out of you. Turning around you parted your legs for him, knowing how he enjoyed to see drip his cum out of you.

Looking up at him you saw him looking down at you. Raising your hand, your fingers motioning him to come closer you giggled when he let himself fall in top of you.

“If you get out I’m leaving with you everywhere you want if you want me.” You whispered as you looked up at him. His eyes changed as you said those words, one of his hands coming up to cup your cheek.

“I love you.” He whispered.  Smiling your couldn’t help the tears in your eyes as you looked up at him.

“I love you too, Jonathan.” You whispered back, closing the distance between you to kiss him softly. 

[watch-grok-brainrot]

Jin Guangyao's Violation of 忠孝仁义

So I had written about WWX and his strong sense of 忠孝仁义 last week. While I was writing it, I kept on thinking about JGY and how he managed to violate all of these virtues. I wanted to go into this characterization of him because I find it so interesting how opposite he is to WWX in the decisions he made. (Warning: i’m not nice to JGY here so if you don’t want him dragged, don’t read?)

忠- loyalty, devotion, fidelity (usually for country or monarch)

(Can I take a moment to talk about how much I LOVE THIS SHOT?! The blood of WRH on the camera lens, WRH falling over, the sudden shift to brightness that mirrors the scene in ep 50 where JGY obscures the sun in his bow (picture above the read more cut)! I can’t get over how much I LOVE the lighting and the way WRH collapses, making way for JGY to become the new sun. Foreshadowing much CQL Crew?!)

This one might be a stretch depending on how you read JGY. I fully believe he went to work for Wen Ruohan as Wen Zhuliu did -- seeking someone who will value his skills. However, WZL died for WRH and JGY just bided his time. (Note: While we know very little about Wen Zhuliu, we know he was at least 忠 and 义. He died for WRH and Wen Chao and refused to let WC desecrate Jiang Fengmian and Yu Ziyuan’s bodies. For that, I have to give him respect. He, despite everything, still had that jianghu sense of 义. Also, the man can count. And knows what a golden core feels like.)

So we know JGY gave Lan Xichen the maps, but he also lured them to Nightless City where the puppets were waiting. Had WWX not brought out the Stygian Tiger Amulet, would JGY have murdered WRH? Or would he have stayed in the shadows forever? As a viewer I have no idea what JGY is thinking, what he’s doing, or what he’s hoping for. He hides so well his intentions that there is debate about if he really was helping with the Sunshot Campaign or not! That isn’t something you can say about someone with loyalty. 

What upsets me further is that Nie Mingjie, having been JGY’s superior officer, sees JGY more clearly than LXC can. NMJ has seen JGY murder and has seen the level of self-serving vindictiveness JGY is capable of. In the case of the Sunshot Campaign, this self-serving attitude made JGY become a double agent uncommitted to either side. Too bad NMJ could not convince LXC of JGY’s duplicity. I’m gonna blame those dimples. 

The fact that we do not know JGY’s intent really shows his lack of 忠. If You Stand For Nothing, JGY, What Will You Fall For? (Answer: Himself and that is not 忠)

孝 - filial piety (deference to your lineage)

So for 孝, you’re supposed to respect your parents, honor your parents, and defer to your parents. What are you not supposed to do? Kill you father. That’s what.

So this should’ve been a really short section because that’s pretty cut and dry. But I want to look at what JGY says to JGS when JGY brings in Sisi and the other women. 

(He’s so creepy in this picture! *shudders*)

“父亲,我给你找来了你最爱的女人. 有很多个. 你高兴吗?”

“Father, I have brought you your favorite -- women. There are many. Are you happy?”

(Translation note: you can translate the line as your favorite women or your favorite -- women. I chose to translate it as the latter due to the context.)

First of all, the tone. JGY’s voice is breathy. I can almost hear a smile. He has zero moral qualms about this. He addresses his father as father, not dad or anything close. But he does acknowledge that relationship. And then he says he’s brought JGS’s favorite. There’s a slight emphasis on the favorite there. And it’s creepy. JGY adds the next line and goose bumps start to form on my skin. He knows his father’s sins and he’s punishing his father with it. Why are you doing this JGY?! And at the end, when it asks “Are you happy?” his voice is so sinister I want to scream. JGY clearly knows what he’s doing. He knows exactly what it means to be 孝 and chooses to make a mockery of 孝, to make a mockery of his father, and to kill his father. 

And then, after he watches JGS die, he tells Sisi and the other women to continue -- to desecrate JGS’s body. This is about as un-孝 as one can get! Remember, WWX and JC were willing to die to get JFM and YZY’s bodies back so they could be cremated and honored. The difference here is night and day! Yes, JGY was very good to his mother, including building a Guanyin Statue in her likeness and sparing Sisi who was a friend of his mother’s, but I cannot get over how much of an abomination he was toward JGS (even if JGS deserved an awful death).

仁 - benevolence, humanity, love of man

JGY has no 仁. Does JGY love anyone other than himself? Maybe his mom. (He might have some 仁 towards Su Sh*t She but that’s only suggested by the last couple of episodes.) That’s really it. He might have loved Jin Ling as his nephew. He might have loved LXC for LXC’s kindness and brotherhood. He might have loved Qin Su as whatever relationship he thinks they had. But when push comes to shove, JGY has zero benevolence towards anyone. He’s willing to kill Qin Su, take Jin Ling hostage, and take LXC hostage. (He also has no 义 but that’s the next section!)

And there’s ep 23. When LXC, JGS, and NMJ were discussing what to do with the Wens,  JGY suggested the Wens be imprisoned at QiongQi Path. Since WRH had ordered the slaughter of multiple clans, including the Jiangs at Lotus Pier, doing the same to him would not be considered unreasonable. Ruthless, yes, but a good show of might and order. This acceptance of murder is due to the concept of 诛九族. 诛九族 (zhū jiǔ zú) is one of the most severe punishments in ancient China. The character breakdown makes it fairly self explanatory:

诛 - to execute, kill, put to death

九 - nine

族 - family, clan,ethnic group, or tribe

诛九族 condemns you and your entire family to death (Depending on the source, some say it’s you + 8 types of relatives. Some say it’s everyone related to you from 4 generations above to 4 generations below).

By suggesting the Wen remnants be imprisoned and not slaughtered, JGY presented himself as 仁. However, by turning around and slaughtering the people per JGS’s wishes, JGY knowingly chose the immoral path where blood flowed like rivers. 

(Also! The way this shot pans down makes me think about how JGY is descending into a hell of his own making...)

义-  righteousness and code of brotherhood

Good god, 义. I have so many feelings about 义. Let’s start with some history because CONTEXT is so important. So when you ask a chinese person on the street to give you an example of 义, I’m willing to bet one of the most common answers you will get is 桃园结义 (tao yuan jie yi, or peach garden/grove establishment of brotherhood). This is THE story of fraternal love between non-blood related men. 

So quick and dirty synopsis of 桃园结义 and the three kingdoms story (I actually haven’t read it and it’s been a while since I actually tried to figure out the plot… so hopefully this is all correct!). Three men (刘备、关羽、张飞/ Liu Bei, Guan Yu, Zhang Fei) met on the streets, fought each other, became besties, and decided to start a rebellion. They took over one third of the country with the oldest (刘备) being the monarch and the other two working at his side (a little Yunmeng bros feel there, right? You’ll be the leader, I’ll be your right hand man). And they died for each other. 关羽 was the first to go. To seek revenge, 张飞 worked his men to the rebellion. Two of 张飞’s subordinates ultimately decapitated him while he was sleeping and brought it to their enemy. 张飞’s head and body are buried in two different cities in China (doesn’t this make you think of NMJ’s fate? Because it did when I was thinking about this and I wanted to cry. Also, 张飞 started out as a butcher. SERIOUSLY CQL/MDZS, can we pretend to be SUBTLE!?). 刘备 continued seeking revenge. Prior to 关羽’s death, the three kingdoms were in semi-equilibrium where the two smaller ones were allied against the larger. However, 关羽 being killed by their kinda-ally destroyed the delicate balance between the three kingdoms. 刘备 could’ve tried to make peace but he wasn’t going to let his sworn brother’s murder go unavenged. They all died in the end but with honor and brotherhood intact. 刘备 and 张飞’s determination to avenge 关羽’s death epitomizes the virtue of 义. They are willing to die for eachother. 

In CQL the parallelism to the 桃园结义 imagery is obvious to anyone who has a cultural background that screams Romance of Three Kingdoms at you. Let’s take a look, ok?  

A quick Google image search yields these images (I couldn’t choose): 

You know what they look like? This (from ep 40): 

You know what 桃园结义 looks like when mainland China made a live action? This: 

And you know what that reminds me of in CQL (ep 23)? 

Are you freaking out now about the visual parallels? Ok. Good. Because we’re moving onto a tiny bit of text comparison because i’m excited and i can. 

Per Romance of Three Kingdoms (note: historically inspired novel, not history), 刘备、关羽、张飞 swore the following oath: 

“念刘备、关羽、张飞，

Hope that Liu Bei, Guan Yu, Zhang Fei

虽然异姓，既结为兄弟，

Even though we have different last names,since we have sworn to be brothers

则同心协力，救困扶危；

Then let us unite our hearts and efforts towards helping the needy

上报国家，下安黎庶。

Repaying our country, bringing peace to the people.

不求同年同月同日生，

We do not ask to be born on the same day of the same month of the same year

只愿同年同月同日死。

But hope to die on the same day of the same month of the same year

皇天后土，实鉴此心，

Heaven and earth, verify our hearts

背义忘恩，天人共戮！”

If we turn our backs to righteousness and forget charity, may we be slaughtered by all. 

Now, let’s look at the oath said by the 3zun:

“神明在上。

Brilliant gods above, 

今日我兄弟三人在此立下重誓，

Today, we three brothers swear a solemn oath here 

上报仙门，下安黎庶 ， 

To repay our cultivation sects, To bring peace to the people.

天地同证，如有异心，

Heaven and earth be our witnesses. If we become disloyal, 

千夫所指，天人共怒”

May a thousand men point their fingers at us and may we be incite the anger of all

Even some of the wording is verbatim. The parts I bolded are what I was excited by since they’re either parallel or verbatim. 

The first set of lines: 上报国家，下安黎庶 and 上报仙门，下安黎庶 . (Remember when I guessed in my WWX post that since there are no countries, the cultivation sects are the target of 忠? This is my proof that I was right!) My hubris aside, this is the part of their oath where they swear to be both 忠 and 仁 together. The wording is verbatim except for the part that doesn’t apply to the CQL universe! 

The second set of lines: 天人共戮 vs 天人共怒. The sentence/phrase format and message is identical-- betray this oath and incur wrath.  (I can’t help but headcanon NMJ wanted to say 天人共戮 because it’s so much more metal but JGY was like, that’s really severe and convinced LXC to side with him to get it changed.)

Even the structure of the oaths are similar. Both oaths start with an introduction (we are three who want to be brothers), both oaths ask the heaven and earth to see them (Heaven and earth, verify our hearts & heaven and earth be our witnesses), and both oaths call upon the wrath of the people for vindication in case of betrayal. The CQL version is an abridged version of the three kingdoms oath and the writers set that up along with all the imagery because they want us to be constantly thinking about the three kingdoms bros and their amazing “even after death we’re still brothers” sense of 义.  They want us to compare JGY’s 义 with that 义 and find JGY lacking. 

The obvious betrayal of 义 is NMJ’s death.  Not only is JGY the cause of NMJ’s death, he butchers (i’m cringing at my own pun... but it’s so accurate) NMJ’s body so that NMJ’s spirit cannot rest. 

But, to me, what JGY does to LXC is betrayal on par with what he does to NMJ (and not dissimilar to what Xue Yang does to Xiao Xingchen). As we went over in the section about 仁, JGY says one thing so that LXC suggest JGY handles the matter. When everyone leaves, JGY does the un-仁 thing, essentially with LXC’s blessing. JGY kills NMJ but he does it by asking LXC to teach him how to play guqin. LXC becomes an unknowing accomplice (like XXC who becomes the killer of tongueless victims of corpse poison). 

So remember in my WWX post how I said WWX took on what he perceived as JC’s debts so JC doesn’t end up 不仁不义? JGY says one thing and does another in front of LXC. He knows LXC cares deeply about being righteous and kind. He knows LXC wants to do good. And he leads LXC down a path of self doubt and regret. LXC ends up teaching JGY the techniques that kill NMJ. LXC lets JGY handle the Wen remnants. Thus, unlike WWX who tries to absolve JC, JGY intentionally puts LXC into the position of 不仁不义. 

Can WWX and JGY be more diametrically opposed (foes)?

[aclosetfan]

hi so like

“i saw this and thought of you immediately”

if you want to for any ship HDHDHDHDHD

@over-under-through1 Okay, so, I gave ya greens last time, and you said ANY ship, so I decided to give my rare pair some love. And it’s just sweet pure brain rot. Anyway, as always, thanks for the prompt!!! 

Prompt: “I saw this and thought of you immediately” from the prompt list of ways to say “I love you” without actually saying it 😊 that whole list makes me go soft. Pairing: brick/bubbles 

Word count: 4696// this was supposed to be a drabble :)))))

Summary: I’ve got nothing witty to say. Bubbles just gives our boy a gift and he almost hemorrhages. 

(Bubbles’ love language would totally be gift-giving based on how crafty she is, my love language is definitely NOT gift giving so I hope this isn’t horrible)

Brick licked chip crumbs from his fingers as he flipped through the tv. On the floor, next to the recliner he had deemed his for the afternoon, his journalism partner—one seemingly disgruntled Blossom Utonium—was busy organizing their project into five hundred million different tasks. She was dividing them evenly, and despite her warnings and threats, he had already resigned to do his two hundred and fifty million assigned mini-steps last minute like usual. It was the same song and dance they did for every project they were paired up for, which was incredibly often and, frankly, not by choice, though now, he supposed he'd be a bit insulted if she went and picked a new partner after everything they had been through together.

Investigative Journalism 302 was supposed to be another blowoff class he had decided to take solely for the credits. Still, when it became clear to the professor that Brick wasn't going to be taking their class seriously, they had gone out of their way to ruin his life and pair him with Blossom Utonium. Despite the good A-quality content they churned out, it had not been an easy go around the first few times they had been paired together. They were too similar and too different in all the worst ways. She was too type-A to his type-B, and they were both too stubborn to admit when they were wrong. But, him and Blossom both had a penchant for sticking their noses in places they shouldn't, so somewhere along the line—probably around the time they had broken into More Co. to follow a lead and diffused a hostage situation at the Mayor's Manor—they figured it was easier to be friends, not enemies.

They were chalking up to be Townsville's resident Sherlock and Watson, except they both fancied themselves Sherlock and the other Watson, but, eh, what relationship was perfect?    

This time around, they were investigating some strange chemical. The only lead they had come from Blossom's own father. He had apparently said something "cryptic" over Sunday brunch that had launched Blossom into overdrive. Eavesdropping on one of her old man's telephone conversations, she had listened to him mutter about the letter X, failed mutations, a strict deadline, and an explosion that may or may not have been the same explosion at the 'abandon' smelting factory two weeks ago.

She took the information personally since it involved her father, but Brick had met the man before and didn't think there was an evil bone in his body. The lab he worked for, though, was an entirely different story. H.I. Mechanics was one hundred different kinds of shady.

Three days from now, Blossom had decided that he would need to have the, again, two hundred and fifty million preliminary tasks done before their big stakeout. She’d be lucky if he decided to do three of them, but he entertained her ramblings anyway because the longer he stuck around her place, the longer he got to bum her cable.

That had become their routine. Meet at Blossom's place, let her rant like an anal madwoman, ignore her in favor of the reality trash tv that he loved but could not afford at his own apartment, and then have whatever painstakingly thought-out plan Blossom had concocted backfire on them in the near distant future. The process was like clockwork.

"—and if we go in at that time, really, why would they refuse us entry? The records we're looking for should technically be public record, though they're no doubt redacted. We're going to have to—you're not listening to me, are you?"

"Yeah," he hummed, more focused on the reality tv season wrap-up reunion he was watching, then whatever she was talking about, "that sounds good."

"So, you're not." She snipped, and the tone of her voice caught his attention.

"Huh?" He glanced at her for a moment before looking back at the tv, "Not what?

"Listening to me." She gave him a cross look, stepping in front of the tv, "You're not listening to me.

"Whaaa?" He tried sounding offended as he attempted to shoo her out of the way, "Noooo, what gave you that impression?"

"Listen," she snapped her fingers in front of his face a few times, and he felt his face scrunch up in distaste—he wasn't a dog, "both of my sisters are going to be home soon, and I don't want them to get mixed up in all of this, so we need to drill out the details of this plan before they get home!"

Blossom lived with her sisters—Buttercup, and Bubbles—in a two-bedroom apartment close to the University in downtown Townsville. All three went to TownU, which wasn't too surprising to Brick. It was an incredibly good school, and he'd admit all three of them were smart, but still, three for three had to be a little weird, right? And to think, people accused him and his brothers of being joined at the hips.

He gave her a dry look as she walked back to her spot on the carpet. "We both know that's not how this works."

Blossom slammed the book she had opened shut, "You're impossible."

"I think you meant to say consistent." He spared her one last glance before settling back into the recliner, "Really, Bloss, how in the world do you think you'd be able to keep this one from them? At this point, my brothers just assume I'm at the center of the mayhem."

She tsked, but the lack of argument was deafening. After a moment, she sighed, and her shoulders dropped, "I just don't want them to get hurt. Not like last time."

"Don't know what you're so worried about." He drawled, "I recall them saving us, not the other way around."

"And I recall the scar that's now running up and down Butters' back." She shot back, "This time, there will be no mess-ups."

"Yeah, wanna bet on—"

"Home!" Buttercup's voice rang throughout the apartment as the front door was slammed open and shut, "How we feeling about take-out—Oh, sup, Brick. You good with Chinese tonight?"

"We're working on school stuff!" Blossom exclaimed, scrambling to cover up the more elicit details of their ‘homework.'

Buttercup rolled her eyes, placing a hand on her hip, "I can tell. What's it this time, huh? Something normal or is there a bomb threatening to reactivate the volcano in Townsville Central Park that I should be made aware of?"

"It's norm—"

"—mutants." He interrupted Blossom, "The man funding your dad's company is sups sketch."

Buttercup shifted on her feet and crossed her arms, "Does this have to do with that Chemical-X stuff dad was talking about?"

"Don't you have a shower you should be taking?" Blossom huffed, glaring at the both of them, "You just finished a run, I can tell; you smell like a pig."

"That's what tipped you off?" Buttercup snorted, "Not the copious amount of sweat dripping down my face? Hey," she nodded her head at them, "ask me how my run went."

Together, he and Blossom rolled their eyes and sighed, "How'd your run—"

"Really well, wow, thanks for asking!" Buttercup smiled, "I beat my average, sooo think hard about what where you want to order from for dinner tonight. We're celebrating! I already texted Bubs," Buttercup stuck her tongue out at them, "she was much more enthusiastic."  

"Then celebrate with her," Blossom frowned from her spot on the floor, fingering the edges of her notebook, "we've got a lot to finish tonight. I don't think we'll have—"

"Yeah, yeah. Listen here, hero-girl," Buttercup scowled, hands back on her hips, "you still gotta eat. Ima take a shower, you have till then to put the spy shit away. Speaking of spy shit," her glare shifted to him, "your brother done fixing my car yet?"

"Ask him, babe." He sniffed, looking pointedly at the tv, "I ain't the middleman."

He suppressed the urge to bulk as Buttercup lifted him up off the recliner by the collar of his shirt. A dark smile snuck its way across her face as she leaned close into him, "Considering the fact that you owe me for getting it destroyed in the first place, baby, then I think you are."

"A lesson in forgiveness would do you well, but fine, I'll ask." He sneered back, unwillingly to show the dread that ran up his spine when he saw the look in her eyes, "You do realize, though, it'd be faster if you just called—"

"Nope!" She sang, dropping him back down in the seat, like nothing had just transpired between them, "If he wants my number, he has to ask for it!" She walked down the hall towards the bathroom, "I don't make the rules."

He scowled, watching her walk away before turning his head back to Blossom, "She's lucky I owe her."

"You're lucky," Buttercup called from down the hallway, "that I saved your sorry ass!"

Blossom snorted, and he shot her a dirty look, "Don't encourage her."

"Oh, be quiet," Blossom snickered, "just watch TV like you always do, and I'll put—"

"I'm home!" A high, singsong voice rang through the house, as the door was once again thrown open, and his heart palpitated without permission. He forced his eyes to focus on the tv, and if Blossom noticed how he sunk low into the recliner, she thankfully didn't say anything.

"In here!" Blossom called back, and from the corner of his eye, he watched as Bubbles stuck her head around the corner. Quickly, he turned his attention back to the tv and tried his best not to seem at all interested as she practically danced her way into the room. She was always practically dancing everywhere she went. It was annoying.

"Blossy, oh my god, you will not believe what—Brick!" She exclaimed, shoving a finger in his face when she noticed he was in the room, "Wai—Brick Jojo! Do not move from that spot!"

He blinked and looked around at the spot he had forged for himself in their living room. His bookbag, snack bags, disregarded textbooks, and his jacket littered the space around him, and his body had imprinted into the recliner's seat cushions, so when he looked back at Bubbles and gave her a dry look, he meant it when he said, "Yeah, wasn't planning on it."

He looked away quickly when she beamed at him. Her smile was bright, sweet, and dimply, and also very annoying. People couldn't always be so immovably happy, could they?

Bubbles giggled and did a little hoppy-dance before she calmed down and looked back at him, "Ahhh, okay!" She wagged a finger at him, "You stay! I've got a surpriiiisseee for you."

"Again," He huffed, ignoring all the less-than-innocent surprise scenarios his traitorous brain played through, "wasn't going anywhere."

"If you're not going anywhere, why don't you actually do some work while you wait." Blossom's voice bit through the air, but he ignored her, going back to flipping through the tv.

"Yeeepp," He popped, his tone no drier than hers, "wasn't planning on that either."

 Blossom mumbled to herself and looked at Bubbles, "Before you go, can you help me with these books? I'm putting them in my bedroom."

Bubbles held out her arms, moving around the recliner and out of his field of vision, "No prob-lamo, chica! What's this all for?"

"Don't worry about it." Blossom brushed Bubbles off, and her sister giggled again.

"What?" The blonde snorted, "Is there a bomb in the volcano?"

He could practically hear the way Blossom stiffened, "Why does everyone keep saying—do people think there's a bomb in the—"

"Blossom!" He groaned, "I'm fucking hungry, hurry up."

She hmphed and stomped out of the living room with Bubbles presumably following, so he relaxed in his seat, ready to blow out the deep breath he was holding when Bubbles' visage filled his vision.

Her smile crinkled the corners of her baby blue eyes, and the back of his neck instantly warmed at the proximity. He wasn't one for people invading his personal space, but Bubbles literally had no freaking concept of it. She was always shoving her face in his. So, unfortunately, Brick was very aware of the sun freckles that littered their way throughout her cheeks and it was particularly distressing because staring at her face made it easier to forget the No Touching Rule he was pretty adamant about people following.

"Stay." She reminded him; her tone tinged with lingering laughter. This close, she smelt like the physical embodiment of a bakery, and it took a significant amount of willpower to pull his eyes away from her.

"Whatever." He mumbled.

With another giggle—always with the dumb giggling—she was gone, and he was finally alone to collect himself. He pinched the bridge of his nose and muttered a string of particularly nasty curse words at himself. Objectively, he was well aware that Blossom, Bubbles, and Buttercup were…attractive, but he was never actually supposed to be attracted to any of them. They were the girls. They were just the girls. Ever since he had known them, they had been just the girls.

Blossom had a stick up her ass.

Buttercup could probably disembowel him.

And Bubbles giggled and smiled.

And it didn't matter if she giggled and smiled at him. Because she giggled and smiled at everything. She was one of those people, the kind of person that gave someone their undivided attention in a room full of people. She was good at making people feel good about themselves. She didn’t do it just for him. No see, if he was attracted to Bubbles, which he wasn't, it was because she was very good at making all people feel seen. So, he wasn't special. He wasn't. And it just—she would…he wasn't used to people just automatically assuming the good in him. People so optimistic tended to avoid him.

The positive attention was just making his head spin, making things confusing, and that was it. He wasn't one of those sad, lonely guys who mistook niceness for flirting. He had a clear head on his shoulders. It was just attention he was unused to. And it was a kind of attention he didn't need. Bubbles was just a nuisance. Her personality was too sweet. They were so different. Even if he did actually end up somehow magically liking her, it wouldn't work between them in a million years.

Besides, everyone already knew that pretty social butterflies didn't actually go for anti-social dweebs. Real-life wasn't an overdramatic coming-of-age rom-com. Realistically, she probably went for guys like Boomer.

He let out a shaky breath and turned up the volume on the tv. Some housewife was crying about something laughably petty, but he couldn't find it in himself to smile.

A second later, he nearly jumped out of his skin when a pair of hands clasped together over his eyes. He only relaxed when he heard Bubbles voice nice and warm next to his ear. "Peak-a-boo," she laughed, "guess who!"

He ignored the way her breath tickled his neck and frowned into the darkness, "A heart attack?"

"Oof, so close!" She snorted, releasing her hands from his face and leaning around the recliner, so he could see her smiling at him, "It's Bubbles!"

"Hello, Bubbles." He droned, not resisting the way his eyes rolled but fighting the way his mouth was trying to twitch into a smile.

"Ready for your surpriiisse!" She sang, walking around the chair so she could stand in front of him with her hands clasped behind her back. He pressed his way further into the recliner after their knees knocked together, distancing himself from her.

"As ready as I'll ever be." He huffed, crossing his arms over his chest, "What is it?"

"It's a gift!" She rocked back and forth on the heels of her feet, still smiling.

"Okaayyy." He reached a hand out with grabby fingers, "Let's get this over with, give it here."

She tilted her head back and laughed, a real honest belly laugh, before she looked down at him again, and suddenly, he felt tiny under her gaze. "Oh, my goodness, Brick," She chided, "I'm not just gonna hand it to you! Close your eyes and hold out your hands!"

He adjusted the brim of his hat lower down his face and looked away, "I don't—"

"I said—" she repeated, reaching a hand out to pull his hat down completely over his eyes, "Close your eyes!"

"Fine." He hissed, trying to sound as grumpy as he was pretending to be and readjusted his hat as he shut his eyes, "They're closed. Happy?"

"Hold out your hands!"

He sighed but complied, and after a bit of shuffling on Bubbles' part, something small was placed in his hands.

"Okay," she announced, "now open your eyes!"

He opened his eyes and stared at the little…thing in his hands. He didn't know exactly what it was, but he figured it was some kind of fluffy…hat…keychain? He didn't know. He gave it a quizzical look before returning his stare to Bubbles.

"Ta-da!" she sang, accompanied by a pair of jazz hands, before she clapped them together, "Do you like it!"

"What…is it?"

There was a pause, and the smile on Bubbles's face fell away. "What is it!" She huffed, cheeks puffed out like an angry chipmunk, which was the worst angry face she could have because it just made her cuter, "It's a dog keychain!"

"This—" he held the keychain up for both of them to examine, "—is not a dog. It's a ball of fluff."

Bubbles' mouth dropped open, "It totally is! Look," she snatched it out of his hands, smooshing the fluff down so she could show off its' pointed ears, stubby little legs, and tail, "see! Puppy! A little Pomeranian! Baby puppy! Puppy, puppy, puppy!"

With something akin to bloodcurdling embarrassment pulsing through his veins, he watched as Bubbles continued to baby talk the offensive keychain, placing a tiny peck on its' small nose.

"And look!" She gushed, shoving it back into his face, "Look at its wittle red hat!" She squealed, bring it back to her so she could cuddle it to her face, "It's so cute I can't even!" Without warning, she dropped into his lap, which was around the same time his heart dropped into his stomach, "I saw it and thought of you immediately!"

He froze at the admission. He had never once thought of himself as someone who short-circuited very often, but people didn't compare him to a cute Pomeranian keychain very often either. In fact, he had been called a lot of things in his short lifespan—wiseass, smartass, punkass, there was a very consistent theme of derogatory titles thrown at him on the daily—but cute Pomeranian was not one of them. And, frankly, he couldn't say he was a fan.

"Are you comparing me to a Pomeranian?" He sneered, momentarily forgetting the fact that Bubbles Utonium was making herself comfortable on his lap, and he was neglecting to stop her.  

"Duh!" She said rather flippantly, pushing the brim of his hat up and off his face, so they could look at each other. Another definite no-no that he was too flabbergasted to address.

"I would not be a Pomeranian!" He argued when he collected his jaw off the ground.  

"Uhhh, yes, you would, lol." She argued back, playing with the fluffy little keychain in her hands. She kissed its face again, and in turn, his face only got hotter.

"Uhhhhhh," he mocked, "no, I wouldn't be."

She looked up from the keychain and gave him a somewhat patronizing look, "Yes, you would be."

"No!"

"Yes!"

"No!"

She laughed, "Brick, yes! You're just like a Pomeranian! You're super intelligent, curious, feisty, you like being the center of attention," she looked off for a second in thought, waving a hand in the air as she talked, "and you've definitely got some tiny dog syndrome in you."

He blinked at her, gaping, as his brain worked overload to find something to dispute in that analysis, but when he couldn't find any, he spat at her, "Why do you know all this shit about Pomeranians, huh?"

"They're one of my favorite breeds!" Her face lit up, "They're just so cute! I love them! And you remind me of them, so I got this for you!" She held the keychain up again, "It's so cute!"

His mind ground to a sudden halt as the words' cute' and 'love' and 'you' repeatedly echoed in his head. His heart hammered away in his chest, and in his panic, he contemplated throwing her off his lap and burning the whole apartment complex to the ground. What was one more arson charge on his record, anyway?  

"Bubs—stop saying…so what?" He asked, floundering before changing tactics. She wasn't the only one who could say embarrassing shit. "Does that mean you think I'm cute or something?" He flirted with a smirk, but it was only after the sentence left his mouth that he remembered Bubbles Utonium didn't get embarrassed. She smiled and giggled.

And that continued to ring turn even now, as she laughed, wrapping her arms around hia neck, she squeezed him. Only letting go of him slightly, to the bring the keychain up to his face, so she could bop the little dog’s nose and his nose together. "Of course!" She agreed, "Cute as a button!"

"N-no!" He sputtered.

"No," she pulled away from the crook of his neck, tilting her head in question, "what?"

"No," he sneered, "I'm not cute like a button."

She considered this for a second, tapping the keychain to her face, before shooting him a broad smile, "Handsome? Is that better?" Mirth tinkled in her big doe eyes, "You're our handsome boy?"

"That's worse!" He complained almost hysterically, running a frantic hand through his hair, knocking the hat he had somehow forgotten he had on from his head.  

"Aw, Brick, come on," She rolled her eyes, catching the hat before it fell to the ground and plopping it on her head, "what do you want me to say then?"

"The truth never hurt," He spat as if he hadn't lied through his teeth at least three different times this week to three professors that he couldn't attend class because his beloved family pet 'Insert Name Here' had died.

Bubbles pouted, "But I told you the truth! I think you're handsome!" She held up the keychain, and with a horribly fake and cheesy deep voice, she used the gift as a puppet, "You're the most handsomest boy in the whole world!"

She solidified her point by making the keychain kiss his nose once more before pulling back to gape at him, "Wow, see even Mr. Puppy agrees with me!"

"Oh, right," he shook his head, in mock agreement, "a handsome boy with little dog syndrome, right?"

"Well," she shrugged, waving him off, "I never said you were charming."

His retort was caught off with a giggle, and she made the keychain kiss his nose once, then twice, and then his breath hitched as a third wet kiss was planted on his cheek by Bubbles herself. She pulled back with a coy smile.

"Brick…" she hummed, trailing off, and something about her tone made him swallow thickly.

"Y-yeah." He finally pushed out after a moment.

"Can I play with your hair?" She asked, leaning forward, laying her head on his shoulder as she twirled a lock of his hair around her finger, and he swore his soul left his body. No one, absolutely no one, touched his hair. No one wore his hat. No one sat on his lap. And here she was. And here he was. And he wasn't stopping her like he should have been.

"Uhh, umm, I—uhh—"

"Bubs, jeez!"

He jumped, choking on his own spit, as Buttercup marched into the room, her hair still dripping wet.

"Seriously, personal space, you're making him uncomfortable." Buttercup huffed, one hand on her hip as he gestured to his face, which was probably redder than his hat.

"Uncomfy!" Bubbles shot up, and a guilty look flashed across her face as she took in his face, "Ah, shoot, sorry, is this too much?" She took her arms away from his neck and wrung her hands together, for the first time blushing, "I just get too excited sometimes! I have a lotta love in my heart, ya know?" She finished with a bashful chuckle.

The small distance between them actually made it a little easier to think again, but she didn't need to know that. Embarrassed by the noticeable flush of his face and his reaction to Buttercup catching them, Brick shrugged and looked away, "You're fine."

That was apparently not good enough for Bubbles because she pleaded again, "I'm sorry!"

"I said," he hissed, wishing she'd drop it, "you're fine!"

"I'm still so sorry!" Looking back over, he was surprised to see her lower lip wobbling, "I shouldn't have forgotten!" She put her hands on her face, squishing her cheeks, as tears began to well in her eyes, and he sent a frantic look over towards Buttercup, "I know you're not a hugger, I should have asked and—"

"—Bubs, he said he was fine." Buttercup interjected again, "Now, you're just making him uncomfortable all over!"  

Bubbles looked from Buttercup to him, back to Buttercup, and then finally to him once more. "You're fine?" She clarified, “This is okay?”

And all he could do was nod, "Yep."

Visibly relaxing, her eyes became less and less watery, and she shot him a relieved look.

"Sheesh." Buttercup mumbled and walked away, "zero to one hundred. Bloss!" She called out, "Come save your poor counterpart from the clutches of cuddly evil over here and let's order the food!"

"What!" Blossom called from her room down the hall.

With an exasperated huff on Buttercup’s part and something more frantic on his part, they both yelled out, "Food!" and there was a scoff from the bedrooms.

"No need to yell!" She shot back, "I'm coming!"

Buttercup shook her head before jabbing her thumb in the direction of their tiny kitchen and announced, "I'm getting the take-out menus."

Bubbles nodded and then, beamed when she noticed Blossom had walked into the room.

"Blossom! Look at this cute keychain I got for Brick!" She cooed, her eyes bright and excited again, which would have brought him some relief if she hadn't opened her big mouth and kept talking, "Doesn't it remind you of him? It's a Pomeranian!"

Face aflame once more, he snapped, "I'm not a Pomeranian!"

"Ho—ly shit!" Obnoxious laughter floated its way out of the kitchen that only made him grind his teeth, "He totally is!"  

"It's the little dog syndrome." Blossom agreed, flipping her hair over her shoulder and ignoring the crude gesture he shot her way as she walked past him towards the kitchen, "BC, let's order from Lee's!"

"No way!" Buttercup argued, "Pa Changs!"

He turned back to Bubbles, who, despite it all, had yet to remove herself from his lap. He was about to make some remark about him pushing her off of his lap in the next three seconds, but the way her eyes flinted over his face made him pause. When she realized she had been caught staring, she smiled once more, bright and beaming, and his heart did another funny little dance.

"You like it, right?" She tilted her head, holding the keychain up so it dangled between them, "I…I can take it back if you want."

Her smile fell the slightest of fractions along with his heart.

"No!" His hand shot out, taking hold of the keychain, "It's—I like it, whatever." He sniffed and turned his head away, "So quit the kicked puppy shit, alright?"

Another smile. Another giggle. It felt like a sick joke, but Brick was pretty sure he was falling in love.

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

A/N: That’s right! It seems the only way I can write romance is with a shit ton of pining!!!! To love is to long, I guess. It’s a little awkward in some places, but it was for fun, so I decided to cut myself some slack and post it anyway! I hope you like it!!! The pairing doesn’t get a lot of love, but I think opposites attract dynamic is so so so cute.

Also, sorry this took me forever! First, I got distracted looking at cute dog pics and then halfway through writing the drabble I was like “hey what if I stuck Blossom in this and she and Brick solved mysteries??” So, then I lived with that AU floating around in my head rent-free, and now, finally, here we are. ANYWAY, in this AU, Blossom is in a very sapphic relationship with Princess, who, along with HIM, is the main antagonist. The Professor is the damsel in distress btws. Brick and Bubbles are disgusting cute. Boomer’s gay, who for tho?? Who knows! Not me! But he’s a freelancer, who’s hardcore freeloading off of Brick and Butch, and that’s all you really need to know. Buttercup has big Mom Friend vibes. Also, Butch is a mechanic and playfully flirts with Buttercup, which she thinks is funny until he actually starts really flirting with her, and then she’s like “um, sir, I am a maiden???” b/c she is actually both shy and a prude. (And you know I like my greens) Anyway, el oh el, it’s a good time.

inspo for the keychain (and brick):

[greekgeek21]

Percy Jackson and the Avengers: Convergence - the avengers are humbled

Welcome back! I know it's been awhile but I hope I didn't lose too many of you. I just wanted to say thank you for all of the support I've been getting on all platforms. Honestly, I did not expect this story to take off the way it did.

Now that that's over, I'm gonna clarify something for SOME PEOPLE. I started writing this last October, which means that I have absolutely no interest in going back over already-edited work just to change a minor detail some people seem to find maddening. This chapter, I can say for certain, was written during December, so I don't always remember what happened. Okay?

This chapter is kinda just one big fluffy piece but I love it so no hate pls.

Now please remember to comment, like, follow me, and reblog!

- you author

Ω ♆ Ω

"Okay! Assignments...Annabeth and Piper, go with Widow, Frank with Hawkeye, Hazel and Leo with Tony, and Jason and Percy with Bruce and I. Everyone okay with that?" Steve said.

"Yep."

"Got it, Cap."

"This should be fun..."

The heroes separated into their groups and stood, waiting for more orders from Captain America.

"As I said before, this is just to further evaluate and document your abilities. It shouldn't take long. That's it, get to work," He ordered, turning and walking towards the sparring pads with Jason, Percy, and Dr. Banner.

They were back on the training floor for the evaluations, after an uneventful lunch break. Well, unless you count Frank's disgust with the attempt at proper Chinese food as eventful.

Ω ♆ Ω

Despite them being on the sparring mats, Percy and Jason would not be sparring. Even to someone who doesn't know the full extent of the sons of the Poseidon and Zeus' relationship, it's pretty obvious that they should not be allowed to fight each other. Their personalities are almost exact opposites; Carefree vs Serious.

"Just show us something we haven't seen from you before, and then we'll build from there," Bruce told the teens.

Percy and Jason looked at each other expectantly, waiting for the other to begin. Their powers were similar in the way that they could get out of hand quickly. Neither of them wanted to be the reason that the tower lost power or got flooded. Zeus knows it would be a mess to clean up.

After a whole two minutes of waiting for them to get started, Steve let out a sigh, "Oh, for God's sake! Jason, you go."

"Umm...let's see here," Jason muttered under his breath, looking around the room for inspiration, "Oh! I got it!"

He positioned himself a couple of feet away from a practice dummy and held his hands together in front of him. Taking a deep breath and imagining his goal, he let sparks fly around his hands. He let them grow for a couple of seconds before slowly starting to separate his hands. While doing this, he made sure a line of electricity was stable between his hands. He kept separating his hands until he couldn't anymore, and then he slowly released his grip on the line from his left hand. He made sure to keep feeding the lightning rod so that it held form.

Meanwhile, on the sidelines, Percy, Steve, and Bruce were all watching with equal amounts of shock. Percy had never seen or known Jason could do this, and Steve and Bruce were completely new to all of this. Then, Jason proceeded to shock them further.

He made the line of electricity into a whip. He made a lighting whip.

Percy was so proud of his friend's imagination. It was almost enough to make a grown demigod cry...

Jason readied his whip and struck the practice dummy, slicing it completely in half. Then, he turned to his group, smiling and making the lightning dissipate. It should've been illegal how easy he made it look, in Percy's opinion.

"Dude! That was awesome! I didn't know you could do that!" Percy exclaimed, slapping the son of Zeus on the back with a proud, blinding smile.

No matter what it seemed like sometimes, Percy was the big brother of the Seven.

"Yeah! That was pretty good, son," Steve said, nodding his head in appreciation, "Now we only need to get that process sped-up and it will be an amazing asset in a fight."

"This means you could do so much more with your abilities, including maybe providing infinite power, which we have been searching for for decades! You kids are truly lucky to have these powers," Bruce rattled off.

Percy whispered to Steve, "Does he get like this a lot?"

Steve nodded, "Yeah. I tend to tune-out the sciency rambling and just focus on stuff I can understand. He had Tony if he needs to bounce ideas off of someone, anyway."

"Got it," Percy said, "I guess this means I'm next?"

He had thought about this a lot during lunch, and had decided to go into the exercise with the comfort and ease he had possessed using his powers before Tartarus, and see where he got from there. Like Annabeth said, it was all in his head. He just needed to believe that he had control, and he would get it.

Simple, in theory.

"Yep. I want you to copy Jason, but with water," Steve said.

He gave more specific instructions to Percy because he felt like he needed that. He was a leader, and leaders need to notice and know what their troops need. Percy needed specifics because he was cautious with using his powers, and he wanted to know exactly what was needed of him before going in. That way there is no possibility of him losing control.

Once again, only in theory.

"Okay, Percy... you got this," Percy muttered to himself, bouncing up and down on the balls of his feet and cracking his neck.

He shook his hands out once before readying himself in a slightly-more relaxed version of Jason's stance. But this time, he did not hold his hands together. Instead, he reached his hands out towards the bucket of water the Avengers had brought to the sparring mats earlier. Taking a deep breath, he felt the barely-there familiar tug in his gut before a tendril of water was rising from the bucket and reaching towards his outstretched hands. Percy willed it to wrap around his arms and hands, and then he slowly put his hands together like he had seen Jason do (he wasn't quite sure how he planned to make the whip yet, so this seemed like the best bet). Taking another deep breath, he started separating his hands, but keeping a solid tendril of water stretched between them.

He tried to move slightly faster than his cousin did, just because of the ever present, unconscious competitiveness ingrained between them.

Finally, he let go with his left hand and let the water form into a whip in his right. It kept shape, but was more flexible than the rod had been. Percy turned to the other practice dummy and whipped it twice, forming two straight slices right through the rubber.

Everyone in their group stood in shock, including Percy after he had deposited the water back in the bucket. He hadn't known he could use a whip.

Must be another natural demigod thing, he thought. Most weaponry came easy to him (except archery, of course).

It took a moment for them to recollect themselves, but Steve shook himself out of his stupor first, "That was...impressive, Percy. I didn't know you had such control over your powers."

The demigod in question shrugged modestly, "Yeah. I didn't really either, to be completely honest."

Jason surged forward and hung an arm around his friend, "Stop being so modest, Kelphead! That was amazing!"

Sure, Jason had done the same thing, but he hadn't gone through literal Hell and come back scarred forever, emotionally and physically. But mentioning that topic wasn't wise, so he stuck with just congratulating his older cousin.

"What else do you want us to do?" Percy asked Steve and Bruce, trying to move the attention off of him.

"Well...I guess just do a couple more small things with your powers and then we can be done. I think you've proved your point of not being newbies," he answered.

Percy and Jason smiled at each other once, then nodded at the Captain.

Ω ♆ Ω

"Okay, Frank, let's see what you got! Any special skills besides turning into animals?" Clint asked.

Frank shifted from foot to foot, "Well, I'm pretty good at archery, I guess. Better than my swordsmanship, anyways."

Clint smirked, "You guess? If you're going to be on this team, you need to be completely sure of your skills. So let's see what you can do."

Frank had grabbed his bow and magical quiver during lunch because he figured he would need it for something during this exercise, so he only had to sling the bow over his shoulder to be ready. The quiver was designed by Leo to never run out of celestial bronze and imperial gold arrows. The celestial bronze ones were normal, and the imperial gold were exploding. A combination of both metals would shoot out hardening foam (also designed by Leo) to stop monsters. Or in this case, people.

He set himself up on the first line on the archery range, and let the arrow fly. It hit the bullseye dead-on. Frank turned to look at Clint to find him raising his eyebrows in appreciation.

"Good. But I'm not impressed until I see you do that from a longer distance and on the move, so let's work our way up there, huh? I'm interested in seeing if we can finally have another good archer on this team," Clint said.

Frank smiled, "I've been doing this practically my whole life, so I'd hope I was pretty good by now. Plus, I've been in battle before, shooting on the move."

There was the newfound confidence that still baffled a certain son of Poseidon after a whole year. You go into the deepest parts of Hades with a shy Canadian Baby Man, and then miraculously you make it out and the kid is taller, buffer, and much more confident.

"Sounds interesting... Any war stories you care to share with the class?" Clint asked, intrigued.

Frank's happy expression steeled over, "I think I'd rather keep those to myself, thank you. Maybe another time."

Clint nodded, but you could see he wasn't going to let that go. Frank had made a mistake saying he had seen battle before. It was pretty obvious that the teens had, but he had just confirmed it, therefore furthering the Avengers' curiosity.

So, basically, he had screwed them over further and faster.

With a great sigh, Frank went aimed and shot another arrow, choosing to ignore the awkwardness that had formed between the two archers.

Ω ♆ Ω

Leo and Hazel were... unsure how to react to Tony's exercise, to say the least. They got over to their part of the room and their eyes immediately tunneled-in on the giant block of metal in the center. Nothing special about it besides the fact that it was black, and about four feet tall, and four feet wide. They weren't sure what to make of it.

Tony was beaming next to them, which was a sure sign of nothing good. It was pretty maniacal, too.

"Mr. Stark... what exactly are we doing with this?" Hazel asked.

Somehow, Stark's grin managed to widen even more before he answered with, "Oh, you know, a simple thing, really. I want to see something unique from both of you, so I brought this out of storage. I designed it years ago, not knowing what the hell I would be using it for, but it turns out my genius brain was just preparing me for this moment where I would evidently be training a bunch of teenagers... but anyway! This will mold to any specifications that I need it to, kinda like the LMDs. Just tell me what you're planning to do, and I'll program it to follow your needs."

Hazel raised her eyebrows at Tony's complete disregard for modesty. The others were not kidding when they said he was an arrogant mortal. She was even considering going all "I am your superior because of my divine blood" on him, but then she remembered that that would make her a huge hypocrite.

Leo, on the other hand, was starstruck. He was convinced that he could never come up with even half the stuff Tony invented. He was a true genius in every right. A role model of many Hephestus kids.

"So... who's going first?" Tony asked.

"I'll go!" Leo exclaimed, like an eager child vying for their father's attention.

"Great! That's the spirit! What're you gonna do?"

Leo thought about it, and then the perfect idea came to mind. It wasn't really using his usual extravagant and fiery powers, but it wasn't any less impressive. He wanted to impress Mr. Stark, and this was the way to do it.

"Make it the hardest safe to crack in the world," he answered, a, well, fire lighting up his eyes.

Tony was intrigued, that's for sure. It was pretty obvious what the kid was planning on attempting, but it would be just that: an attempt. Nobody could crack this safe. It was designed by himself personally to house some of his most secret projects for the Avengers. He was literally the only one in the world that even knew of its existence. There was no way Leo could pull off cracking that type of safe without years of preparation.

But, he still programmed the block to make itself into the safe. If anything, it would show these teens how not to underestimate Tony Stark.

"Okay, kid. Good luck," he said, and then whispered, "You're gonna need it."

Leo didn't comment on Tony's quieter remark, but he did smile wider at the prospect of a real challenge. Sure, he could come off as a little overconfident sometimes, but he really was smart and powerful when he tried. He just wasn't a serious child of Athena, he was a fun son of Hephaestus, and he would act as such.

Still, when the block turned into something he had never seen before, he took a deep breath, focused his mind on the task at hand, and got to work.

Tony was smiling wide over his shoulder, interested in seeing how far the kid could get, but little did he know, Leo had this under control. To someone who didn't know him, what he was doing would seem weird, but he was actually just listening to the machine. Yes, listening to it.

He had his ear pressed up against the safe, both hands pressed flat against it next to his head. Leo was already learning the mechanisms of it, and in no time, he would be able to tell the safe to open itself without even lifting a finger.

He was almost vibrating with excitement over how Tony would react. It was sure to be a show.

Sure enough, a little less than a minute later, there was a series of soft clicking heard before the light on the pad flashed green and the door was open.

Of course, it was empty, but Tony was still in shock. A sixteen year old kid had beaten his strongest security system besides JARVIS. It wasn't possible. There was no way that Leo had just cracked his safe.

"No. Not possible," he insisted, turning with wide eyes to stare at the demigod, who had a proud grin on his face.

"Yep, it is. I just did it. Were you not watching?" Leo said, channeling his inner-Percy for sass.

Tony so wanted to protest more, but he knew it was futile. Plus, having someone almost as smart as him around might be some fun. Bruce was always worrying whenever they worked together, and Leo gave off way different vibes.

"I was watching, still working on believing, though," Tony said, "That was some pretty cool shit there, kid. Care to tell me what it was?"

Leo said, "I just talked to the safe. It was a little harder to crack than some of the other ones I've done before, but I got through to it eventually. It was pretty strong. Good work on that design."

"Thank you... I guess," Tony said.

Tony couldn't remember telling Leo who had created the safe, but he figured he would get the same answer as before if he asked. Believing these kids' powers was a little difficult, especially when all of them defied the laws of any science. Tony was starting to think that they were Asgardians, with how they fought and everything.

"Well, let's move onto Hazel. We don't have all day," he said, turning to the daughter of Pluto, who had stayed to the side during Leo's entire turn, "What are you gonna do? It's gonna be pretty hard to follow up on that performance."

Hazel had had time to figure it out while she was waiting, so she answered right away, "I won't be needing the box for my turn. I just need you."

Tony gave her an incredulous look, "What do you need me for?"

"Just tell me a metal. Any metal in the world, and I'll bring it here," she answered.

Okay, Tony was done. There was NO WAY that was possible, and he knew it. He wasn't stupid. These kids were messing with him now.

"Seriously?! I'm not falling for that! You can't do that!" he exclaimed.

Hazel just gave him a knowing smile, "I get that a lot. But I always seem to prove those people wrong..."

Tony sighed, "Okay, sure. Let's do... Vibranium."

He kept a straight face on the outside, but on the inside he was smiling like a maniac. Vibranium could only be found in Wakanda, and they barely had any left. There was no way she could get it all the way here, even if there was any left.

Hazel nodded and closed her eyes, letting her powers search for the precious metal. She had heard of it before from some people in the Underworld. Apparently, it could only be found in a small country in Africa, so she had to widen her search.

It didn't take long to find some, but that was only because what she found was Steve's shield. She hadn't known that it was made of vibranium, and stored that knowledge away for future use. Then, she kept looking.

Soon, she found some and told a very small piece to come to her. You couldn't ask her how it reached all the way up through the tower, but she always just concluded that it was magic. It's the simplest solution.

When she opened her eyes, a content smile on her face, she looked up at Tony with expectation of a shocked outburst, only to find him looking expectantly at her. So he hadn't figured out what she had done yet, apparently.

"Look down," she instructed.

And Tony did. Only to find that a small rock of Vibranium was poking up from the floor. At first, he wasn't sure how to react, but then, he reached down to touch it, trying to make sure what he was seeing was actually true. But before he could put one finger on it, Hazel shoved him away.

"Don't pick it up! It's cursed, you idiot!" she yelled, but then her own face slacked in shock.

She hadn't meant to say that last part. It was the truth, but her powers could definitely be linked back to the gods. She was not going to be the one to let the secret slip. That was going to be Percy or Leo, if anyone.

"That's amazing," Tony breathed, openly staring in shock at the metal.

But before another second had passed, the rock popped back through the floor and was gone as quickly as it had come.

When Tony looked up at Hazel in question, all he got was a shrug in response. It wasn't safe to keep the metals lying around.

Tony physically shook the shock out of him, and said, "Alright. That was pretty impressive, I'll admit, both of you. We can be done for the day. I'm gonna go check out what some of the others are doing."

"Yeah, I'll do that too," Hazel said, turning to Leo. "What about you? What are you gonna do?"

"I think I'll try to help JARVIS find the bad guys," he responded. "I'm getting nervous just waiting for them to blow something else up."

While Tony was walking away, he yelled to Leo, "Don't break anything! Everything here costs more than everything you own!"

Leo wasn't so sure about that, considering the amount of celestial bronze he owned, but he didn't comment on it.

Ω ♆ Ω

Annabeth and Piper were hard to find an exercise for. Neither of them had very obvious superpowers (one didn't have one at all), in Natasha's opinion. She wanted to see how much the others would have to protect them if it came down to a fight of powers. Sure, she didn't have any abilities, but she had also been training how to make up for that almost her whole life.

So, if anyone could find a weakness in these two girls, it would be her, and Natasha was determined to find it.

"Okay girls, this shouldn't take too long. You're only throwing knives at moving targets. The trick is, you won't know when the targets will pop up. You'll be standing in the middle and holographic targets will form around you at random times, always speeding up. If you're as good as you say you are, you can handle this no problem," Natasha said, eyes piercing into Piper and Annabeth.

"Yeah, we got this," Annabeth shot back, standing proud. "I'll go first."

Natasha was not making it unknown that she didn't trust the demigods, and Annabeth was not going to let that continue. Only the "kids" knew what was really going on, so the adults needed to get in line with their way of doing things before somebody got killed. These people that they were hunting had already killed many people, so they knew they were capable of it. This makeshift group needed to be a well-oiled machine by the time they found the bad guys.

"Okay, just step into that square on the ground, and it'll begin. Piper and I will be stepping out of the range," Natasha said, grabbing Piper's arm and dragging her back about seven yards, "Let's begin!"

It seemingly came out of nowhere, the target. Annabeth had barely been able to grab some of the knives from the table next to her before it formed. It was an orange color, and very pixelated. As soon as she shot the arrow right through the bullseye, it exploded in a shower of orange pixels. She barely had time to let that sink in before another one popped up. They seemed to be stopping the knives, but as soon as they deformed, the weapons just dropped to the ground.

It was rapidly speeding up, but it was nothing to being overrun with monsters trying to kill you. Soon enough, the targets started moving, so she had to adjust her stance to hit them where they would be, not where they were.

It was exhilarating. She hadn't had this much of an adrenaline rush in a year!

Her five minutes of throwing seemed to end all-too-quickly. Soon, the targets stopped popping up, and Natasha was walking towards her with an almost-impressed look on her face.

"Not bad, Chase," she conceded.

"Thanks," Annabeth responded, going and helping Piper pick up the knives lying around their area.

When she got to her, her friend looked up, "That was pretty good, Annabeth. I don't know how I'm supposed to follow that, though."

Annabeth rolled her eyes, "Oh, shut up. I could've done better. And you'll do great, Pipes. I trained you, right?"

She had a light twinkle in her eyes that always came when she was joking around (and that wasn't often). Piper had been trying her very best to see it out as much as possible after Tartarus. Percy and Annabeth put on a strong front, but the Seven could all see they were still recovering, and probably would always be. Nobody just jumped right back into things after something as traumatic as that trip through Hell.

But Piper didn't let it be known how proud she was of Annabeth for making a joke; that would only stop the fun right in its tracks.

"Thanks," Piper said, picking up the last knife before replacing Annabeth in her previous spot in the square.

In her opinion, she wasn't doing as good as Annabeth, or making it look as easy, but it wasn't too difficult. She had been practicing all the time on her fighting skills, and she especially focused on daggers. Knives were balanced a bit differently, but it was the same concept. She just had to compensate for the loss of weight.

Soon enough, Piper found the flow and could slightly anticipate when the next target would pop up.

Annabeth knew Piper would be fine doing this exercise. Sure, it got the blood flowing, but it wasn't the hardest thing they had done. They had fought in actual wars.

Before Piper had known what happened, the targets stopped showing up, and the five minutes were up. She was breathing a little heavily, but a giant grin was taking up her face.

"Not bad, either," Natasha complemented, "You will probably be able to take care of yourselves in a fight."

"Probably?" Annabeth glared.

Natasha returned the glare, "Probably."

Annabeth wanted to say more, but a shout from Leo, who had just sprinted back into the room, interrupted her.

"Guys! Guys! We got a hit!" he screamed, eyes wild with excitement.

Ω ♆ Ω

Everyone but Hazel and Tony stared at Leo in confusion and concern. They didn't know that he had gone to work with JARVIS on tracking the bombers.

Tony ran up to Leo, "What? Where?"

"In Las Vegas," Leo answered.

The rest of the heroes had all formed a group around Leo. Percy and Annabeth had naturally gravitated next to each other. At Leo's answer, they clasped hands and shared a look. They knew why Las Vegas was chosen: The Lotus Hotel and Casino. Flashbacks to zebras and old games flashed through their minds.

"What would they want in Las Vegas?" Steve asked.

"Who cares?! We're going to Vegas baby!" Tony exclaimed, pumping his fist. "JARVIS? Prepare the jet."

Tony was the only one who hadn't noticed the oldest demigods' reaction towards

Las Vegas. He didn't realize how bad this could really be. The demigods didn't have the time to make sure the Avengers didn't get stuck in the casino, if that's where they were going (which it probably was).

"Um, care to share what's bothering you two?" Steve asked Percy and Annabeth.

"We've been to Vegas before. If we're going where we think we might be going, this could be bad. You need to listen to us exactly, okay? It's important," Percy answered.

Tony gave him a confused look. "What are you talking about, kid? We'll be fine. I don't need a teeanger telling me how to do what I'm best at."

Annabeth glared at the billionaire, "And what is that; what you're good at? Because I thought it was being lazy and never taking anything seriously."

"Annabeth, just let it go. We'll just have to watch him closer." Percy said, resting a hand on his girlfriend's shoulder.

With one last glare at Tony, and a warning look to the other Avengers, Annabeth stormed out of the training room, heading back up to her room to prepare without another word. Mortals were so stubborn, she thought, especially when you're trying to protect them. It's literally their birthright to protect mortals, and they never let them!

Storming into her room, Annabeth grabbed a duffle bag and started stuffing supplies into it: weapons, spare clothes, ambrosia and nectar, armor, and a couple other things. She was so distracted by her anger that she didn't see the shadows fluctuating in the corner, or the black snout poking out.

She didn't see it until it was too late.

Ω ♆ Ω

"Are you going to tell us what that was all about back there?" Jason asked Percy as the rest of the demigods were walking back to their rooms.

Percy sighed, exhausted with the day but knowing it was not even close to being over, "Las Vegas is where Annabeth, Grover and I went during our first quest together. We got stuck in the Lotus Hotel and Casino. It's the home of the Lotus-eaters. They trap you in there and you don't feel time passing. We were in there for a week without realizing it. It's dangerous, man."

Piper and Jason shared a worried look, and Piper said, "So... we need to keep a close eye on the mortals on this mission, right?"

"A very close eye," Percy nodded.

When Percy reached Annabeth's door, he decided to go check on her. "Go get your stuff. Let's meet in the living room."

"Okay, Aquaman," Leo said, dashing into his soot-stained room.

Percy wasn't sure what he was expecting to find, maybe Annabeth crying, screaming, or angrily throwing things into a bag (that's the most likely), but he was NOT prepared for nothing. Literally nothing; the room was empty. There was an open duffle on the bed, along with a couple of weapons lying around it, but no Annabeth.

He wasn't getting worried yet, though. She could just be in the bathroom. That was a viable option. He would not allow himself to freak out yet. At least not until he checked the bathroom...

... And the bathroom was empty! Now he allowed himself to freak out. He started storming around the room, tossing things around looking for a clue as to where she went, anything!

"Annabeth! Wise girl!" he called, though he knew it was fruitless.

In their lives, nothing was ever as easy as simply calling for someone and they came back. Annabeth was missing, and he had no idea how to find her.

Unless someone was stupid enough to leave a trail of shadows, that is. Looking in the corner, Percy saw that the shadows in the right corner were moving around unnaturally, a lot like what happened after they were used for shadow travel. He had spent enough time around Nico to understand what it looked like.

So this meant that someone with access to shadow traveling took her, and that wasn't a long list. It was probably a hellhound that took her! Oh, were they going to pay.

Percy could feel his powers slipping, and the walls were giving scary creaks. No matter how much he wanted to just explode, he knew that he had to take a deep breath and focus on recentering himself. He would be no help to Annabeth if he wasn't in control. Some part of his brain was telling him that maybe letting off a little steam WOULD help get his powers under control, but no, he promised Annabeth. And Percy refused to break that promise if he could.

"JARVIS!" he yelled, already rushing out the door, "Call everyone to the living room! Now!"

"Right away, sir," JARVIS responded.

Percy ended up just running to the living room, not wasting any time being careful. Annabeth was missing, and he needed to find her and get her back NOW.

His emotions were running high, so he could sense all the water and liquids around him (it was a lot), and it was becoming distracting.

When he got there, only Steve, Clint, and Natasha were waiting so far. Though Hazel and Frank walked in right after him, probably having heard him scream before JARVIS had even called everyone.

"What's going on?" Steve asked, concern filling his eyes.

Percy paced and said, "Wait until everyone else is here. Then I'll tell you."

His mind kept flashing pictures of all his and Annabeth's enemies. Years and years of fighting monsters and wars were playing on his brain. There were so many possible people, even if it probably was the current gang that they were searching for. He didn't want to let himself believe that mortals could be so messed-up that they worked with monsters, monsters that they couldn't even begin to understand. It was so far-fetched, and yet it was his life!

As these thoughts were going through his head, the rest of the team had finally made it in. They were all sporting confused and concerned glances. Natasha seemed to have figured out that one of them was missing, and that it wasn't normal for that person and Percy to be separated. Annabeth was missing.

"Percy, man. Stop pacing and tell us what's wrong," Jason laid a hand on his friend's shoulder.

Percy's eyes got a little misty as he told them, "Annabeth is missing. Taken. She's gone, and I don't know where to find her."

Hazel gasped.

Nothing was right with this. Percy without Annabeth was wrong. So wrong. They needed to be reunited soon, and quickly.

Percy started pacing again, absentmindedly twirling Riptide around his fingers. He had decided that it was best to start in Las Vegas and go from there. There was a good chance that it was the gang who had taken her, and that they were holding her there. It was his only idea.

The others had just been sharing worried looks and a few whispered thoughts before Tony suddenly jumped up, holding his phone like it might explode.

"Guys, I think I know who has her..." he said, making a few hand gestures before his phone screen was projected in front of them.

It was a picture. Of Annabeth.

She was hanging from celestial bronze chains, with a leather gag in her mouth, and shackles on her ankles. Her hair was a matted mess, and she was unconscious. Even so, Percy could see that she had a black eye, probably from struggling. She wouldn't go without a fight, that's for sure. But still, this was not the Annabeth they knew. The Annabeth they knew was a strong force to be reckoned with. This...person was not her.

Percy let out an almost animalistic growl at the sight. They were going to pay, whoever had taken her. All of them.

"It has a note," Tony said, throwing up another picture.

It said:

We are The Truth Seekers. We have your blonde bitch, and she will be dead in the next 24 hours unless you reveal yourselves. The world deserves to know! It is our right to know the monstrosities that go unseen, right beneath our noses! 24 hours, or she's dead. We're at the Lotus Hotel and Casino, another one of the hidden monstrosities in our world. Tell the truth!

Percy was going to kill them. He didn't care if they were mortals, they were going to die. They hurt Annabeth, he hurts back. Worse.

"We need to suit-up, and then we can get going and rescue her. But first, we need a plan," Steve started to speak, but before he could, the world flooded in.

Screw control, Percy thought.

He let the pipes and burst and break the windows. Standing on the very edge of the empty window seal, he let out the loudest taxi whistle the Avengers had ever heard. Waiting only a second for a black blur to show up on the horizon, Percy jumped.

Ω ♆ Ω

other chapters :)

[angelliev]

Lover Boy - JJ Maybank x OC - Part Ten - He Needs to Know

Word Count: 3.1K

Summary: Rafe Cameron has made a shocking confession to Aria, who stings him with her venomous words, and now she must suffer from the consequences. Meanwhile, JJ shows Aria just who she belongs to.

Warnings: Smut, cursing, fighting, Rafe being Rafe, and I guess public sex?

A/N: Oh my god, I need myself some JJ. Writing this made me weak in the knees.🤤 Hope you guys enjoy and thank you for your support with the following, liking and especially the reblogging. (Not my GIF. Credits to the owner. I don’t own the show or the characters.)

Lover Boy Series Masterlist

The pogues. They are by far better than the kids at kook academy. I let the days pass by as I continue to go on many of their adventures and be with JJ. I feel like I’m on top of the world. I have these amazing friends and loving boyfriend. We’re all excited for Spring break that’ll be coming up in a couple of weeks. None of us know what we want to do yet, but I’m pretty sure we’ll have fun no matter what. Tonight, we’re planning on going to the outdoor movie the county is hosting. I’m waiting for the takeout to finish cooking, as of now. The pogues had all decided on having Chinese food during the movie. That’s when he walked in…

“Takeout for Rafe Cameron.” His voice echoed in my ears. I couldn’t even look at him without anger and hot steam spewing out of my ears. I try to hide myself behind a nearby magazine, not wanting to start an awkward conversation with him.

“Aria?” Satan fuck me in the ass. Why? I huff. “Hello, Rafe.” I mutter. “It’s been a while. How have you been?” He asked taking a seat next to me, much to my dismay. “What do you want Rafe?” I asked not wanting to beat around the bush. “I’ve been meaning to ask how Jennifer is doing.” This bitch.

“Like you care.” I muttered angrily. “Excuse me?” He asked slightly astonished. “I know what you did to her, so don’t act like you still care about her. You abused her and cheated on her with her best friend. She’s been gone for months, and now you want to ask me about her?” I look at him with pure hatred.

“What I did was wrong. It was mistake. I should’ve been a better boyfriend to her. I’m apologizing now. Doesn’t that count?” He slung his arm on the back of my chair, making me grimace. “If you’re only talking to me just to redeem yourself, you came to the wrong person.” I scoffed. “That’s not why I’m talking to you.” He denied. “Then why are you talking to me Rafe? What is so important you have to bother me?” I tap my feet anxiously, hoping the order would be ready soon.

“There’s something I wanted to get off my chest. I did like Jennifer at one point. I really did, but there was just something missing in our relationship, so I looked for that missing thing elsewhere. It then occurred to me that, perhaps I dated the wrong girl, and she was right in front of me all these years.” I can’t believe he has the nerve to be talking about Samantha being the right girl for him. I just roll my eyes and take a sip of my delicious mango coconut Boba tea. Hehe

“It’s always been you Aria.” Dafuq? Before I knew it, I’m choking on my Boba once again. Tapioca pearls in the back of my throat, tea shooting out through my nose, tears in my eyes, the whole nine yards. I gain concerned looks from nearby customers, employees, and Rafe. I grab some tissues from the box before spitting the tapioca pearls into the tissue. I decided to spare the people of having to see me launch tapioca pearls across the room. Why does this shit always happen to me?

“She’s fine. Just choked on her drink. Go back to enjoying your meal everyone.” Rafe smiles as he waves off the peering eyes. “Here you go miss.” The kind woman hands me the bags of food. “Thank you.” I quickly take the food before speed walking out of the restaurant, towards Sarah’s car, both embarrassed and confused. Kie and Sarah looks at me bewildered as I place the food in the passenger’s seat. “Aria! Wait! Talk to me!” He yells. “I have nothing to say to you!” “Will you just stop and listen to me?” He grabs my arm.

I don’t know what came over me when I smacked his hand away. I can hear the girls gasp in the car. “What the hell is wrong with you? You think that just because my sister is gone you can try to make a move on me? Did you really think I’d go out with you? After everything you’ve done to her? You put my sister through hell. Well news flash, I will never love you. And for your information, I’m already taken by someone who loves me more than you ever would.” I spit. I almost felt guilty when I saw the pain in his eyes and heartbreak, but then I remembered how he made Jennifer feel that way every day. It’s time he had a taste of his own medicine.

I slam the car door shut. Sarah shifts between gears, Rafe’s fists slam down on my window. “You’ll fucking regret this slut!” His voice can be heard as we speed off. “What happened in there?” Kie asked astonished. I kind of remain silent for a minute, while the two girls wait for an answer. “Rafe said that dating my sister was a mistake, that he should’ve been dating me all this time. That it’s always been me.” I mutter angrily. Their eyes nearly pop out of their sockets as they process what I just said. “I’m sorry on the behalf of my jackass brother.” Sarah apologizes still fazed.

“It’s fine. I’m not going to let him ruin our evening. Let’s just forget about it.” I continue to look out the window, embarrassed by the whole situation. I still can’t believe he had the nerve to say that, after everything he has done to my sister. I can’t even imagine myself with Rafe. I’d rather take a knife to my stomach, than to choose him over JJ. Do I even tell JJ? He’d go crazy. Probably do something stupid, yet I’d hate to lie to him.

We arrive at the park where they’re about to start the movie. I see the boys set up our stuff near a tree, a little ways from the crowd. I see JJ smile when he sees my presence. I couldn’t help but return it. He approaches ready to say something, but I don’t give the chance when I place my lips on his in a sweet kiss. This seemed to take him by surprise, but that didn’t stop him from returning the kiss.

“Get a room!” John B yelled before tossing a fortune cookie at us. I swear John B is the ultimate cockblocker. JJ pulls back, his cheeks dusted slightly pink. “What was that for?” He asked with a cheeky smile. “I just love you.” I play with the ends of his hair. “Awe, I love you too babe.” He pecks my lips. “Everything okay?” He asked concerned. “Yeah, just Rafe being Rafe.” I roll my eyes. “What the hell did he do to you? I swear to god I’m gonna,” I shut him up with another kiss, after seeing the fire rage in his eyes. “Easy tiger. He just said something stupid and meaningless.”

“What did he say?” His eyes are desperate for an answer. I sigh. “He said he should’ve been dating me instead of my sister this whole time.” JJ’s jaw clenched at the words. “I rejected him, which seemed to really piss him off.” I roll my eyes. “Good. Let him be.” His lips find mine in a more possessive kiss. “Alright lover boy. C’mon the movie’s starting.” I lead him to our blanket against the tree. There he wraps me up in his arms, where I relax as the movie plays.

The movie goes on, still holding everyone’s attention, well except JJ’s. He grows bored by the movie. He begins to trail his lips down my neck seductively, making me giggle, when he starts nibbling on my ticklish spot. “What are you up to?” I asked, trying to concentrate on the movie. “Babygirl I’m cold.” He smiles mischievously against my skin. His hands makes his way under the blanket. “Thought you might warm me up.” His hot breath against my ear makes the warmth in my southern region grow. He unbuttons my jeans, before his hand cups my cloth covered crotch, making me whimper.

“Shh, we don’t want any peering eyes, unless you want to give everyone a show. I bet you’d like that, wouldn’t you dirty girl?” It took everything in me not moan right there for everyone to hear. The whole idea of us being caught at any moment only seemed to turn me on even more. His long fingers easily slip through my warm velvet silky folds. I can feel the coolness of his rings brush against my walls, definitely glistening as he thrusts them in and out of me. Tears pool in my eyes at the immense pleasure I began to experience when he curled his fingers, never failing to brush against my g-spot. “God, you look so sweet with that flushed face, glossy eyes and wet lips. Those pretty lips of yours would look amazing around my cock.” I bite my lip, suppressing a moan.

“I bet Rafe can’t make you feel this good. He wishes he could fuck you like me. He wishes he can be in my place. Maybe I should invite him over one day. That way he can watch as I fuck you hard into the bed. That way he can see the way your pussy grips onto my dick perfectly. I want him to hear you moaning and screaming my name to the top of your lungs. I want him to know your mine when he sees my cum gushing out of you. And I won’t even give him the chance to touch or fuck you the way I do.” I felt the familiar coil in my stomach begin to form. “He needs to know that I’m the one who popped your cherry. He needs to know that your flower only opens up for me. He needs to know that I was your first everything. That I was the first one to kiss your luscious lips, the first one to make love to you, the first one you’ve fallen in love with. He’ll hate the idea knowing that whenever someone asks you about one of your first experiences, you’ll always be thinking of me first. It would kill him to know that you’ll never forget me. That I’m always on your mind. That I’m always in your body. That I’m always a part of your soul. And most importantly, he needs to know that I love you with a burning passion.” His words melt my heart. “That’s right babygirl. Cum for me.” He says in a hushed tone, before placing his hand on my mouth. My eyes roll to the back of my head and I bite my tongue as sinful whimpers escaped pass my lips.

His fingers and rings glisten in the moonlight. He forces my lips to open, before inserting his fingers into my mouth for me to taste myself. He uses him other hand to pull down his pants and boxers, his member springs out poking me. Before I have time to say anything, he sinks myself down on his throbbing erection. I was expecting him to move, but instead he just sat there content with the blissful warm state we were in. “What are you doing?” I asked confused as to why he’s not erratically thrusting into me like usual. “I told you I was cold. Thought you could keep me warm.” He smirks before laying one last kiss on my shoulder, before turning his attention back onto the movie, as if nothing had happened. My body wanted more. “Let’s get out of here.” I suggest. “But we’ll miss the movie.” He says innocently. “Please, I want you.” I plead, earning a smirk from him.

Moments later we’re in the back of John B’s van in the empty parking lot. Kissing ferociously as he pounds into me, bodies rocking together like waves. The van moves with us and our hot breaths fog the windows. Our lustrous moans, skin slapping and sweet whispers are the only things that can be heard.

Lurking in the darkness, were peering eyes full of rage watching their every move. Rafe Cameron had heard everything. A dagger went through his heart with every word that left JJ’s mouth, knowing that everything he had said was true. The angry young adult marched his way back to the Jeep, slamming the door shut on his way in. “Damn, who knew that Aria Prescott had a thing for the notorious pogue king?” Topper commented. “Aria Prescott the pogue slut. Girls like her will open her legs for any dirty pogue. Especially JJ Maybank.” Said Kelce. Rafe was shaking out of anger. “Let’s go Topper. We have a couple more stops to make.” Rafe says sinisterly.

Later…

The cool night air breezes past our bodies, as I sit comfortably on the back of JJ’s motorcycle, my arms wrapped around his body. I’ll never grow tired of these bike rides. He stops by my house, out of sight. I reluctantly get off the bike, before removing the helmet. My hands gently grab a hold of his face as I pull him in for a passionate loving kiss, which he gladly returns, pulling flush against his body. “Goodnight JJ. I love you.” I say after pulling away. “I love you too.” He pecks my cheek. “Sweet dreams babygirl.” He never fails to make me blush. “Drive home safe lover boy.” I blow him a kiss, and he shoots me a wink. He stays there until I reach my doorstep, before driving into the night.

I close the door behind me. I couldn’t find a way to wipe the smile of my blushing face. I was caught in a daydream as I walked towards my room. I hadn’t even noticed my father’s office door was open. “We need to talk.” His voice pulled me out of my dreamy state, startling me. “Sit down.” His tone is serious. I nervously pull out the chair before taking a seat. My father’s serious eyes never left me. His burning gaze begins to intimidate me. “I don’t know what has happened to you Aria. You were always such a good girl. You never disappointed me. You were pure, obedient and respectful. The outer banks have tainted you. Ever since we moved here, I wondered what could have caused you to act out in such rebellious behavior. Now I finally have my answer.” He takes a sip of drink.

“What are you talking about?” I asked, voice laced in fear. He doesn’t answer. He opens his drawer pulling out a yellow envelope before tossing it to me. My shaky hands reach into the envelope, grasping its contents. I pull out a note that says, “Thought you should know who your daughter has been seeing lately.” I pull out the photos. My heart sinks down to my stomach when I see them. Pictures of JJ and I. Naked in the back of a van, completely exposed and connected in every possible way. Our lips crashed together. Eyes full of sinful lust and everlasting love.

I couldn’t find the strength to form any words as I stared at the pornographic photos. For a moment I forgot how to breath. “You disgust me Aria. I’m ashamed to call you my daughter.” His venomous words shoot me. “Please let me explain.” I look up at him with desperate eyes. “Oh, do please explain to me as to why you’re having sex with JJ Maybank, of all fucking people. I can’t believe you fucked someone like him. Do you think I want to see my daughter with a dirty pogue?!” “You don’t even know him!” I protest. “He’s a fucking pogue Aria! I don’t need to know him to know what he is. He’s a troublemaker. A hustler. A thief. A heartbreaker. He’s just like his father!” His words make me angry.

“He is nothing like his father! JJ is so much more than that!” I defend him. “And how would you know that?” My father challenged. “Because I love him!” I confess. My dad shakes his head. “You’re too young to love him Aria! You don’t know what love is!” “Yes I do! We taught each other how to love! You don’t know anything about our love!” “You stupid fucking girl. He’s just playing you! He doesn’t love you; he loves your money and the sex is just a bonus!”

“That’s not true! It’s so much more than sex! We laugh together, cry together, play together and so much more. We’re soulmates!” I declare. My dad scoffs. “So, what was your plan? Get married to him, let him knock you up and have his kids? Is that really the kind of future you want for yourself?” “I’d more than happy to carry his children! He’s the love of my life and I plan on being with him for all eternity!” I yell.

“Well get used to disappointment, because you are never seeing that boy again. Not as long I’m alive! You’ll be cutting him off completely and not even saying goodbye!” He demands. “Like hell I will! I’m not just going to leave him! You can’t make me!” I protest, my heart beats fast. My father grabs me by the arm before dragging me to my room. I thrash and hit with all my might. I throw myself to the floor. “For god’s sake! Stop fighting me!” He yells before throwing me into the wall of my bedroom, earning a painful groan from me. He slams the door shut. The click of the lock echoes through my ears. My fist pound on the door repeatedly as I scream. “Open this fucking door right now! You can’t do this! You can’t hold me hostage!” He ignores my screams and pounding on the door. He ignores the sobs erupting from me.

I sit there in my own pool of tears as I sat there trapped in my room. I pinch myself, hoping that this was all just a nightmare. That I’d be waking up soon, preferably in JJ’s arms. What I give to see him right now. I wish I just stayed on the back of his bike. I wish he could hold me right now and tell me everything’s okay. I wish he was here to kiss my tears away. “JJ…” I softly whisper to myself, clutching onto one of the many pictures of us. In this one, he holds me close in his big arms as he kisses me so lovingly. I let the memory cloud my mind. I let myself imagine that day, instead of remembering where I am now.

[musette22]

OKAY so I just learned that Scott Evans is gay (how did I not know this???) so what if Scott was the first person Chris told when he realized he may possibly be bi, and Scott helped him come to terms with it (and get some Romanian ass)

OKAY so, I kid you not, I had the exact same idea when I was in the shower this morning and when I came out, I saw you sent this ask. So then of course I had to write a thing. I realize I could’ve written it from any point in the past, but I had just seen that video of Chris rolling on the floor laughing, and I thought, why not make the most of that bright spot in these weird times and continue where that video left of? 🤷🏻‍♀️

Hope you enjoy this! It was meant to be a short little drabble, but of course it turned out over 2k 🙄 so most of it will be under the cut!

*******************************

Scott giggles to himself as he posts the video to his Twitter and Instagram. He has no doubt that Chris laughing his ass off on the floor is going to put a smile on so many people’s faces – something that’s sorely needed right about now.

Chris, having exhausted himself, is stretched out on the couch next to him right now, Dodger lying on the floor next to him. The rest of the family is playing board games in the living room, but Chris and Scott decided that a movie night was in order. For a moment, Scott just watches his brother, until Chris notices and turns his head, meeting his eyes.

“What?” he asks.

“Nothin’.”

Chris kicks him gently in the thigh. “Come on, out with it.”

“Suit yourself,” Scott shrugs. “How are you doing, Chris?”

Chris frowns, a wrinkle appearing between his eyebrows. “What do you mean, how am I doing?” he asks. “I’ve got my family around me, we’re having a movie night, I just rolled around on the floor laughing. I’d say I’m doing pretty well.”  

“Okay, but how are you really doing?” Scott presses.

“We talk every day,” Chris says obstinately. When Scott doesn’t answer, instead just giving him a pointed look, Chris’s expression turns thoughtful, like he’s really considering his answer. “I mean,” he starts, picking up his beer from the floor next to the couch and propping it on his stomach, “you know I’m no good at just sitting on my ass, but I know why I’m doin’ it, so it’s okay. And I get to spend some quality time with my family and my dog so I really can’t complain.”

“Sure,” Scott allows, nodding slowly. “But this has been a weird time for you, hasn’t it? Leaving Cap behind, going into politics, then everything suddenly being cancelled at the last minute… Must leave you feeling a bit unsettled, right?” Holding up a finger, he adds, “I know we talk every day, but it’s been a while since we actually had time to do some soul searching together. Like we used to, remember?” He smiles at the memory. “We’d sneak off to the attic with a few bags of chips and some coke and talk about our feelings” – he makes sure to inflect that last word with as much dramatic flair as he can muster, which is quite a lot of it – “while everyone thought we were playing video games or looking at porn or whatever it is ‘normal’ teenage boys do.”

Chris is smiling too now, soft, just a hint of melancholy to it. “’Course I remember. Had some of the most eye-opening conversations of my life in that attic.” He bumps Scott’s leg with his foot again. “It’s where you came out to me, Scottie. That’s not something I’m gonna forget any time soon.”

Scott hums in reply. He has fond memories of that afternoon, too. “So?” he asks after a while. “You wanna tell me how you’re really doing?”

Looking a little hesitant, Chris says, “I don’t know what to tell you that you don’t already know.”

“Sure you do,” Scott says easily. “How ‘bout you start with telling me why you were going around telling everyone you were going to take a break from acting, only to then sign up to two big new projects in the past month or so?”

Chris picks at the label of his beer bottle, looking a little sheepish. “Ah,” he says. “I was kinda hoping everyone’d forgotten about that.” He sighs, dragging a hand over his face. “I mean, I was honestly planning on taking a break, but then I had a couple of weeks off and I just- I just realized I would have all this free time on my hands and no one to spend it with, you know?”

There it is, Scott thinks.

Chris is lonely. He’s good at pretending he’s fine on his own, happy with Dodger to keep him company and spending as much time with his family as he can. But deep down, he longs to have someone to love. Someone to settle down with. It’s just how he’s wired.

“I know,” Scott replies honestly. “You’ve been on your own for a while now, Chris. That isn’t like you.”

“No,” Chris sighs again, “no, it’s not. It’s just… it’s hard, meeting new people. Especially in our business.”

Scott huffs out a laugh. “I appreciate your attempt at inclusive language, but I think we both know that even though you and I might be technically in the same business, your experiences are very different from mine. I’m an actor, you’re a superstar.” He pauses a moment before adding, “Also, I’m gay, you’re not.”

Chris doesn’t reply straight away. “Anyway,” he says eventually, “point is, I’m just so tired of that perpetual cycle of meeting someone, getting to know someone, wondering if this might be it, and then having it all fall apart again. I just don’t know I can do all that again. It’s never worked out before, so why would the next time be different?”

“Okay, now you’re just being defeatist,” Scott remarks, giving his brother an unimpressed look. “Not to mention dramatic. Look, why don’t you let me set you up with someone, huh? I know you think that’s weird, but I know so many amazing women who’d jump at the chance to date you. All you have to do is give them a chance.”

“I don’t wanna give them a chance,” Chris mutters sullenly. “I’m sure they’re lovely but I just…” He makes a frustrated sound. “I just don’t think I want to meet anyone new right now.”

“But you just basically said you’re lonely,” Scott cries, throwing his hands up. “And I know you want to get married and have a family, because you talk about it all the goddamn time.” He sighs, and in a softer tone continues, “Look, I know it’s hard, but you will have to get out there again if you want to have that future. You know that right?”

Chris inhales deeply through his nose, rubbing a hand over his newly-buzzed head. “Yeah.”

“Unless…” Scott says.

Chris’s eyes flicker to Scott’s face. “Unless what?”

Watching Chris closely, Scott says, “Unless, maybe you don’t want to meet anyone new because you’re still hung up on someone old?”

Silence.

Chris averts his eyes, staring at the ceiling.

Scott gives him a disbelieving look. “Fuck, Chris. You’re kidding me, right? Are you honestly still carrying a torch for one of your exes?”

Chris doesn’t reply, which is an answer in itself. “Oh my god, you totally are. Who is it? Jesus, I bet it’s Minka, isn’t it?”

Immediately, Chris shakes his head. “No, it’s not Minka.”

“Oh. Hmm. Jenny? Is it because she’s getting married? Is that what brought this on?”

“God–” Chris lets out a frustrated huff, sitting up and rubbing both his hands over his face. “No, Scott, it isn’t Jenny and no, I don’t care that she’s getting married. I’m happy for her, truly.”

Scott deflates a little. “Okay, well. Then who is it?”

“It’s –” Chris starts, then stops again, swallowing hard.

Scott waits – not exactly patiently, but he knows he needs to give Chris time to gather his thoughts. When Chris sighs again, it’s wearier than Scott has heard him in a long time.

“Do you remember,” Chris says finally, “in 2016, after I came back from that press tour in Asia, and you picked me up from the airport and you said… You said I was glowing?”

Scott nods, thinking back to that time four years ago. “Yeah,” he says slowly, “I remember thinking you looked the happiest I’d probably ever seen you. I thought you must’ve just really liked China.”

Chris huffs a laugh that lacks any real mirth. “Yeah, it wasn’t just China.”

“Did you meet someone in China?” Scott’s eyes widen. “Oh my god, did some Chinese girl sweep you off your feet and break your heart? She the one that got away?”

This time, Chris actually laughs. “No, no Chinese girls either. Sorry to burst your bubble.”

“Then tell me,” Scott presses, bumping their shoulders together gently. “What happened? Who happened?”

This time, Chris is silent for so long that Scott thinks he’s probably hoping they’ll just drop the topic altogether.

But then, after a full minute, Chris opens his mouth. “Scott…” he says, sounding pained. “Please believe me when I say that I didn’t purposely keep this from you. I swear I would’ve told you if things had turned out differently, but… they didn’t. And I didn’t know if – I still don’t know if… what it was.” He finally lifts his head, turning to look at him, a pleading look in his eyes. “That’s why I never told you, because I was just – I was very confused. Still am. I’m so sorry.”

Frowning, Scott searches Chris’s drawn face. “You were confused? About what, Chris? What had you so confused that you’d be scared to tell your own brother – Oh.”

Scott feels his jaw drop, comprehension breaking over him like a wave. Chris, meanwhile, looks miserable, looking at him like he thinks Scott is going to punch him in the nose and storm out.

They’re both silent for a minute. Dodger, sensing Chris’s distress, has sat up, resting his head on Chris’s thigh in an attempt to comfort him.

“Oh, Chris,” Scott says finally. “You should’ve just told me, you big idiot.”

“I know,” Chris says, hanging his head. “I should’ve. You have every right to be mad at me.”

“Oh no.” Scott shakes his head. “I’m not mad at you, Chris. Believe me, I know exactly how you feel right now. I’d be a massive dick if I turned on you now, wouldn’t I?”

“Yeah, but I still should’ve told you,” Chris says stubbornly.  

“You should’ve,” Scott agrees, “but I understand why you didn’t. It was hard for me when I was seventeen and a nobody. I can’t imagine how hard it must’ve been for you these past few years, being who you are.”

The look Chris gives him at that is tentatively hopeful. “You really aren’t mad?”

“No. I just wish you’d have told me so I could’ve been there for you when you were hurting.”

“Well, if it’s any consolation, I’m still hurting. So technically, you could be there for me now.”

Scott punches Chris in his stupidly well-developed shoulder. “Well, then you’d better start talking.”

Chuckling wetly, Chris nods. He sits back, leaning heavily into the couch cushions and absently petting Dodger’s head.

He draws in a deep breath. “It’s –”

“– Sebastian,” Scott interrupts.

This time, it’s Chris’s jaw that drops. He blinks at Scott for a second. “You knew?” he asks, sounding almost accusing.

“Not until just now. But you coming out to me and mentioning that Asia press tour…” Scott shrugs. “It makes sense. That kid gives off some serious bi vibes. Plus, something tells me you’d be just his type.”

Chris gives him a wry smile. “As it turns out, he’s just my type, too.”

“Now that you mention it,” Scott says, cocking his head thoughtfully, “he really is, isn’t he?”  

“Yeah.” Chris smiles, his eyes getting this dreamy, faraway look in them that Scott hasn’t seen for a long time.

“Oh boy,” he says, sucking in a breath through his teeth. “He really did a number on you, didn’t he? Fuck, Chris. I can’t believe I never noticed.”

“Well,” Chris says, hitching his right shoulder up to his ear. “I am an actor. I tend to wear my emotions on my sleeve, but I know how to hide something I really don’t want anyone to see.”

“Clearly.”

“Besides,” Chris continues, ignoring him, “he didn’t exactly do a number on me. I was the one who was too scared, too cowardly to stick to my guns. I just couldn’t do it.” He shakes his head, as if he still can’t believe what he’d done. “We started sleeping together a couple of years before, but it was never serious. We just – ended up in each other’s beds a few times, I guess. Well, a lot of times. But on that press tour, something changed. We grew closer, and we were happy, and I wanted it to work. God, I wanted it so bad, but everything seemed so daunting, and I didn’t know what was going to happen after Marvel and the press and the internet were already vicious enough as it was. I just couldn’t deal with the thought of amplifying all of that by like, a gazillion.” His voice grows progressively quieter as he goes on. “So I fucked it up, and I let him go. And I miss him, every day.” The last words are barely more than a whisper.

Scott reaches out, wrapping an arm around Chris’s hunched shoulders pulling him closer. “I’m so sorry, Chris.”

Chris sniffs, shakes his head. “Don’t be,” he says, “it was my own stupid fault.”

“Come on,” Scott protests, shaking Chris a little. “Don’t be so hard on yourself. You weren’t ready, back then. It sucks, but that’s just how it was. You can’t change the past.” He pauses, before softly adding, “But you might be able to change your future?”

Giving him a sidelong glance, Chris asks, “What do you mean?”

“Well,” Scott says slowly, you and Sebastian are still friendly, right? You didn’t fuck things up so bad that he never wanted to talk to you again.”

“No, I sort of… Let him down gently, I think. He seemed to take it alright, but…”

“He’s an actor, too,” Scott finishes sagely. “I just think that if you really fell so hard for the guy that you’re still not over him years later, then you guys must’ve had a real connection, right?”

This time, Chris’s face almost crumples. “Yeah,” he says, sounding utterly forlorn. “Scott, I – I think I loved him. I think I love him.”

For a moment, Scott is stunned. “God, Chris,” he breathes. “Now there’s something I never thought I’d hear you say. I gotta tell you, as much as I know this sucks for you, it’s kind of amazing for me.” Realizing how that sounds, he makes a face. “Sorry. This isn’t about me, I do know that. Please continue.”

Chris barks out a laugh, bumping their knees together amicably. “It’s okay, I get it. Believe me, it’s a bit of a trip for me, too.”

“Phew, okay. So. You love him,” Scott says simply. Chris winces beside him. “Do you think he loves you? Or loved you, a least?”

“I don’t know. I mean, maybe? He said as much, back in Singapore, but then when it ended, he just seemed to move on pretty quickly. So I don’t know.”

“Chris,” Scott says dryly, “I think if he said he loved you, you can assume he loved you. The guy was probably as devastated as you were but just didn’t want to let on, especially since you guys would still be working together after that.”

Chris stares at a spot on the coffee table, worrying his lower lip between his teeth. “Maybe you’re right.”

“Of course I’m right,” Scott says, “When have I ever been wrong?” He ignores the deadpan look Chris gives him. “So, my next question would be, is Sebastian single right now?”

A pause.

“I think so,” Chris replies eventually. “I haven’t spoken to him in a while but…”

“But?”

“I’ve spoken to Mackie,” Chris admits, looking a little guilty. “They’ve been filming together, these last few months, and I… I may have called him a few times to check how things were going.”

“To check if Sebastian was doing alright, you mean?”

“I mean, not just that. Mackie and I are friends too, you know.”

“Sure,” Scott smirks. “Okay, so according to Mackie he’s single. According to my latest intelligence, you, Christopher, are also single.”

“… Yes.”

“Yes,” Scott nods. “So what do you think I’m going to suggest you do, right now?”

Chris scrunches up his face. “Call Sebastian?”

“Call Sebastian.”

Chris blows out a long, slow breath. “Okay,” he says. “I guess I could give him a call to check how he’s holding up, under the circumstances. That wouldn’t be weird, right?”

“Of course not,” Scott says decidedly. “These are strange times, they remind us of what’s really important to us. If anything, I think he’ll be very glad to hear from you right now.”

“Okay,” Chris says again, nodding as if he’s trying to convince himself. “I’m gonna do it.”

“Yay,” Scott says, doing an excited little wiggle. “God, I love this.”

“This?”

“Talking about cute boys with my big brother. It’s all I’ve ever wanted.”

Chris fondly rolls his eyes at him. He silent for a moment, before he looks at Scott curiously. “You think he’s cute?”

“Are you kidding me?” Scott says incredulously. “He is delicious. Lord, I probably would’ve tapped myself that if I’d had the chance.”

“Hey.”

Scott holds up his hands. “Okay, sorry, I get it. Back off, he’s yours.”

A soft, almost mushy look steals over Chris’s face. “Yeah,” he says quietly. “I hope so.”

A thought occurs to Scott suddenly. “Oh. My. God.”

“What? What is it?” Chris asks, looking alarmed.

“I can’t believe all those tinhatters on the internet figured this out before I did. About my own brother.”

“Oh god,” Chris groans, “please don’t remind me of the internet right now.”

Scott chuckles. “You know the internet’s opinion doesn’t matter, right? The only opinions that matter here are you and Sebastian’s. Fuck everyone else.” Reaching over to grab Chris’s phone from the coffee table, Scott hands it to Chris. “Now, go get ‘em, tiger. Go get your boy.”

Chris gives him a brittle but hopeful smile. “Wish me luck.”

Scott gets up off the couch and leans down to press a kiss to Chris’s fuzzy kiwi head. “Good luck, big bro.”

He notices Chris’s hands are shaking as he scrolls through his contacts, but he doesn’t comment, instead making to leave the room to give Chris some privacy. Before the door closes fully behind him, he hears Chris start to talk.

“Hey, Seb. It’s me, Chris. How, how’ve you been?” There’s a pause. “Yeah, I’m sorry it’s been a while. I just. I wanted to check how you’re holding up. And, um.” A shaky inhale, and then, softly, “I- I miss you.”

Scott smiles to himself as he pulls the door closes behind him. Something tells him they’ll be alright.

[paintoverthepain]

It wasn’t long after Alex and Forrest shared their first kiss at The Pony, in front of everyone, they started to share other firsts with each other. Alex had been struggling with himself. He needed time to adjust to his well-deserved freedom as a gay man, out and proud. Alex was still taking things slow, but Forrest was a patient soul. He never forced himself on Alex, and gave him space when needed.

“You don’t have to go through this alone. If you want me to, I will be there every step of the way.” He once said, while he stirred his milkshake around absentmindedly, not taking his eyes off of Alex. Alex had appreciated it. Dealing with the death of his father, his abuser, at the same time as he was trying to get through to Flint, was a challenge. But Forrest had been there for him, and they had shared stories back and forth about family drama, military stories, early childhood memories, musical similarities, high school angst and of course, past lovers.

“So, you and Michael Guerin are like high school sweethearts then? Kinda figured there was something there.” Forrest had said once.

Forrest had a soft look on his face as he looked at one of the photographs Alex had handed to him from a book in his shelf. There were several photos. Some of Alex and his brothers, others with him and his friends. One of them was of him and Michael.

“You guys looked so happy…” Alex raised his brows and laughed slightly before shaking his head. He stared at the photo for another minute before placing it back into the book, and down into the box he was packing up.

“Yeah, I suppose. At the time anyway… Those teenagers in that photo, were naïve and reckless, living in a fantasy bubble, shielded away from reality. Now, I don’t ever want to hide in that bubble ever again. ” He replied and taped the box shut before facing Forrest, giving him a warm smile.

Alex and Forrest shared their first milkshake at the Crashdown only a week after their first kiss. It wasn’t planned, but Forrest had accidentally ordered a large vanilla and chocolate-swirl with two straws and a cherry on top. He could have sworn he ordered just a simple chocolate-swirl, but Liz had glanced at their table once and already taken their order. Michael had been sitting at the counter, sipping to a coffee that was slowly turning cold. He had forgotten all about it because he had been too busy staring at the two men sharing a milkshake and giggling about it.

A month later, Alex had been upset and struggling with nightmares. The weather had been gloomy, and soon after, it was pouring down. Forrest had arrived at Alex’s place at around 9 pm, soaking wet from the rain, and a box of Chinese in his hands.

“You’re soaked. You can borrow some of my clothes.” Alex had offered and headed to his bedroom to retrieve said clothes. When he walked back out into his living room, he stopped abruptly in his tracks, mouth slightly open. Forrest was standing by the couch, shirtless and hair still dripping wet. The droplets fell from his hair and traveled down his neck, down his chest and down towards his sculpted abs. Their eyes met and it was a losing game for both of them. They lost track of time from the moment their lips collided and their clothes found their way to the floor. Both nervous, but burning with desire for one another.

“Are you sure?” Forrest had asked, staring deeply into Alex’s warm eyes. They were both breathing heavily already and hearts beating faster. Alex wrapped himself around Forrest, feeling his warm skin on his, feeling his heart beating atop of his.

“Yes, Forrest. I want you… I need you.” Alex said, almost pleaded. He was ready, and he wanted this. He wanted to take it a step further with Forrest, and he wanted him. Needless to say, as the two men explored new and vulnerable parts of themselves, the Chinese takeout was long forgotten.

As time passed by, they only seemed to get closer and closer. One evening, Forrest had invited Alex to a fancy restaurant to celebrate their three-month anniversary. Alex felt spoiled, and had insisted on paying for his part.

“It’s a gift, so please, accept it and let me treat you, for once.” It wasn’t up for debate, and so Forrest winked at him, and took the check. Alex still felt guilty. He wasn’t used to getting spoiled, or getting sweet goodnight-texts. He also wasn’t used to having someone to write songs with, or getting songs or poetry written about him. He wasn’t used to shoulder massages after a stressful day or falling asleep in someone’s arms while watching movies. There was a lot of new things to get used to, but it was definitely something he could get used to.

A solid half a year had passed, and their relationship was only growing stronger. They were practically inseparable at this point, but not entirely. There were days when they would go to the farmers market together, with Buffy happily shuffling along in tow, and they would bicker about which vegetables were the cheapest or what would be more practical, writing your shopping list on a note or on your phone.

“Obviously it’s more practical to write it down on your phone. It’s much faster.” Alex argued while checking if the salad was fresh before putting it in the cart.

“How is it so much faster? You write down your stuff, and you can add things later on as you remember more things to buy. It’s way more personal and you have easy access to the note as you’re walking through the store.” Forrest tried reasoning with him, while holding up his crumpled piece of paper as proof. Alex just rolled his eyes while trying to hide his amusement.

“It’s the exact same with a phone. Also, it doesn’t blow away with the wind.” Alex quickly gripped the piece of paper out of Forrest’s hand, held it up to his mouth and blew the paper at his face.

“That’s cheating, you-“ Forrest was about to reach for Alex’s phone, where he proudly displayed his shopping list, when someone cleared their throat and spoke.

“Is the honeymoon phase over already boys?” Isobel had her arms crossed and smirked at them. Beside her, Michael rolled his eyes and tipped his hat further down his face. Alex pretended he didn’t notice and just laughed along with Isobel. Michael now regretted letting Isobel talk him into leaving the junkyard for once.

It was little things like this that made it into their routine. Grocery shopping, taking Buffy on walks, milkshake at the Crashdown, movie nights with too much popcorn, watching the sun set over the desert landscape, wild nights at Planet 7 and open-mic evenings at The Wild Pony. A year had passed and Alex still found himself amazed and in awe each time he woke up next to Forrest. He almost couldn’t believe that he was allowed to be this lucky.

To celebrate their one-year anniversary, they decided to have a few drinks at The Pony. Throughout the night, they laughed and reminisced back to when they first met in the barn at the Long farm, and when Forrest totally kicked his ass in paintball.

“You totally watched 10 reasons why I hate you before that date, am I right?” Alex smirked at him. Forrest playfully nudged him while trying to hide his flushed cheeks.

“What can I say, I’m a sucker for the classics.” He replied.

The hours seemed to pass by too fast, and soon they were dancing in the middle of the crowd, singing and laughing along to the music.

Not long after Forrest had excused himself to go to the restroom, Michael found himself seated next to Alex by the bar. He had placed his hat down between them and ordered another drink. Michael had watched Alex and Forrest have a good time all evening, and maybe it was the alcohol talking, but he needed to try one last time with Alex.

“You know you’re lying to him, right?” Michael said quietly while staring into his drink. Alex furrowed his brows and turned to face him.

“What?”

“He still doesn’t know about me, does he?” Alex just stared at him with confusion written all over his face.

“Of course he does. I’ve told him everything about us, and what we used to have.” Alex replied, but Michael shook his head and took a deep breath.

“I mean, he doesn’t know what I am?” Michael asked and tilted his head slightly. Alex glared at him, not knowing what to answer.

“I made you a promise once, to keep you and your family safe.” Alex began, but was interrupted by Michael’s scoff.

“Oh, so you don’t trust your partner to keep that secret safe. I bet it would be a whole lot easier to go on with your life not having to sneak around and lie about your confidential alien research.”

“Michael!” Isobel’s voice was harsh and disappointment was painted all over her face. Alex was pale and his fists clenched. He had to find and grip onto every shred of willpower in order not to punch Michael in the face.

After that encounter, Alex had slowly but, surely let Forrest in on some of the stuff going on in Roswell. To his surprise, Forrest had his own suspicions about aliens. He was a historian and a Long after all.

“Do you think you’ll miss this place?” Forrest asked. He had his arm around Alex’s shoulder as they stared around his empty apartment. Alex shrugged slightly and rested his head against Forrest.

“Not really. I don’t have anything attaching me to this place. It just became a hideaway. I’m ready to start over, but this time, I got you by my side.” Alex said and looked up at Forrest, who smiled at stared back at him with so much passion and love written in his eyes.

They finished packing up, picked up Buffy and got into the car. With one last glance at his house, Alex smiled back at Forrest and they drove off, on their way to their new home far away from Roswell.