#When NARCs were cool for two minutes

[canticleofcanticlesforleibowitz]

Time to date myself, I guess. I’m not only old enough to remember this show, but to also know someone who did this job IRL- at the same time. Anyway, just remembering way back when and why older women cling to their crush on this ridiculous retired Francophile.

[bluejaysandblackbats]

Titans Academy

Fandom: DC Comics, Titans, Arrowfam

Summary: Grant struggles to accept his new reality when Roy takes him in and enrolls him in Titans Academy. He must adjust to life at a boarding school and life with his new foster family (Roy and Lian). Can he learn to trust the people who claim to care about him? Or will he shut himself off from love altogether?

Chapters: 2/?

Characters: Grant Emerson, Roy Harper, Bart Allen, Toni Monetti, Cody Driscoll, Lian Harper, Jade Nguyen, Audrey Spears, Tommy Blake Jr.

Additional Tags: Father-Son Relationship, Boarding School AU, No Powers AU, Found Family, Second Chances, Roy Harper is a Legal Guardian, Roy Harper is a Father, POV First Person, Grant Emerson POV, Autistic Bart Allen

Chapter Two: Disorientation Day

It took a day longer than expected, but we pulled into this gigantic school. It looked like a castle. He parked in the lot and got my bag from the trunk. "Looks like I'll have you enrolled and settled in time for dinner. Come on," Roy explained. He gave me my bag, and I followed him to the school's entrance. Roy had all sorts of paperwork on me and handed it to the woman at the front desk. He was flirting with her right in front of me.

"Is he new?" a little voice asked. I turned around and looked at this goofy freckled kid who leaned over the counter like he was looking for something. "Sorry, are you new?" He reached out to shake my hand, and I smiled.

"Yeah, I'm new... I'm Grant," I replied.

"Bart Allen, nice to meet you. RoycanIshowhimaround? Doeshehaveanassignedroom? Canhestayinmyroom? Istillneedanewroommate," Bart barely breathed in between sentences.

"Sure you can. Kind of. No, he cannot. I'll look into that," Roy answered without breaking a sweat. Bart grinned. He whispered something to Bart, and he nodded. "Don't worry. Bart's a nice kid."

When an adult says someone's a nice kid, they're usually a narc or a loser. Not Bart, though. He was the coolest. Bart showed me around the school and showed me some of his hiding places. That part seemed like it was against the rules, though. "This is my favorite place in the whole school," Bart whispered, "We have to be quiet in here, though." He opened the door, and the room was dimly lit with color-changing lights. There were hanging beads and bean bag chairs, and the floor and walls were padded. I squinted at him, but he didn't seem to notice. "See, lookit." Bart lay on a swing in the center of the floor, his limbs limply hanging as he hung upside down. I have to admit, it was kind of cool.

"What class is this?" I asked.

"It's not a classroom. It's the sensory room," Bart whispered, "You can come in here any time as long as you have permission."

"Mm... I don't know. It's not me," I replied. Bart sat up.

"Come on, try it," Bart whispered. I hesitated, but I joined him on the swinging platform. It was alright. I got the appeal of it, but it wasn't my thing. He started talking about a sci-fi show I liked, and I lit up. We must've talked for twenty minutes non-stop because Roy came to get us for dinner. I stood up, and Bart followed.

"Yeah, but do you like the comics?" I asked. He nodded, recommended some horror comic I'd never heard of, and then described the plot. "Oh, that sounds sick." I recoiled playfully. We followed Roy to the dining hall and continued to talk. It was nice meeting somebody that liked the same stuff as me, especially the second I got there. That was pure luck.

We got dinner, school lunch, single-file style, and we sat at a dinner table in the back corner of the room. The food was actually pretty good. Bart ate like a giant. It was the quietest he'd been since I met him.

"This is your class schedule and day-to-day schedule. I'm gonna be on you about being on time for everything after I give you a week to adjust to it all. Bart knows what I'm talking about," Roy explained. Bart nodded. He refused to come up for air to answer a yes or no question, but I get it. The food was that tasty.

"Why do I have like ten classes?" I asked.

"Mm, no," Roy replied as he swallowed his food, "See Pre-Cal, Physics, English 11, History, Phys Ed? Stuff like that? Those are your classes. Then you have group therapy on Monday and Wednesday, a study group in Room 15 on Thursday, and private therapy on Tuesday... Then the weekends are marked for any activities that might come up. Bart's in my group sometimes for weekends, depending on what we do. I'll usually take one of you, but I'll take up to five of you to do something if you don't have detention or family visits," Roy explained in great detail.

"So you take kids on trips?" I asked.

"Sometimes other people do it. Like you might go with Garth or Donna or somebody like that," Roy answered, "Most of the kids here enjoy the trips. Hopefully, you will too."

"I liked laser tag," Bart announced once he finished eating. I grinned.

"I don't happen to have any classes with Bart, do I?" I asked. I really hoped we would.

"Bart's a freshman. You might see him during P.E. if you can catch him," Roy answered, "Oh, and maybe English."

"You're not a freshman?" Bart asked. I shook my head. I guess it made sense that he was younger than me, but it definitely sucked that I'd probably never see him during school hours.

"I'm a junior," I replied. Bart slumped back in his seat. "Why are you in English 11 if you're a freshman?"

"I got bored, and they don't offer advanced placement classes," Bart answered.

"Yet," Roy replied as he waved his fork at Bart.

"Cool," I grinned.

After dinner, Bart ran off somewhere, and Roy took me back to his house, which was a five-minute walk from the boy's dorms. He unlocked his door and showed me to my room, and he showed me where the bathrooms were. "You'll have a heavier load than some of the other kids... But I promise if you do everything you're supposed to, I'll make it worth your while during the weekend activities. I make the same promise to the other kids, and I keep my word on that," Roy replied. I nodded. "That being said... Lights out at nine-thirty, and we're on laundry duty at four tomorrow morning."

I blinked hard. "Four in the—. Four in the morning?" I asked.

"Yeah, that's when I get up," Roy replied, "Sounds like you and Bart hit it off. I'm glad. He's usually off by himself a lot."

"Don't know why. He seems cool," I replied as I unpacked my bag. Roy stood in the doorway. "So, are you a teacher or counselor or something?"

"Dorm parent," Roy answered, "I'll get you some sheets from the hall closet."

He left me alone, and I started feeling homesick. I don't know why. It wasn't like I could've stayed there after everything that happened. So, I lay on the floor and stared up at the ceiling. I don't know what I was homesick for. I hated everything about my life before it all went up in flames, but I think I missed the familiarity of it all. This was all so new and weird and sudden. I just wanted things to feel stable for once... But what do I know about stability, right?

[cinna-stars]

Worth Waiting For

Uhh, okay, this is my first ever fanfic! I might continue it based on the reception, but it was a few thoughts I had in my head that I wanted down on paper. 

18+! Some sexual themes and content throughout, however for those experienced smut readers, this is some mild sauce, not very much spice.

I have to credit @cyancherub for making me think about Kiri smelling like cinnamon, the thought hasn’t left my brain.

Kirishima x Fem!reader 

A cool breeze whispers through the slightly ajar window of your dorm room. The sun set a little while ago; studying always seems to eat up most of your free time, so this wasn’t exactly a surprise. You lean back in your desk chair, arms up, and stretch your muscles into a big yawn. The sudden contracting muscles have your stomach gurgling. It’s definitely time to take a break, so you close your textbook and stand up from your desk. I wonder if there’s any of those expensive sounding potato chips that Momo bought back from her trip abroad left over? The thought makes you salivate as you begin towards your door. You glance to the mirror in the corner and look at your own reflection: hair pulled into a loose, messy bun, torso swallowed up by an old band shirt Denki gave you (after a conversation initiated by Mineta on what you liked to wear to bed) and bare legs sticking out from the hem. Shouldn’t be a problem, as long as Iida isn’t feeling like a stick in the mud this evening. You open your door and begin creeping your way to the kitchen, hoping to keep noise levels to a minimum as to not disturb anyone who might be sleeping already.

Your ears perk up when you hear conversation coming from the communal area.

“On a scale from 1-10, with ten being the most boring, you have exceeded my expectations and we’ve hit an 11.”

“Shut up dude, it’s an absolute cinematic masterpiece. This is why you don’t have the remote- we’d be watching Care Bears or some shit.”

You approach the seating area to see Bakugou, Kirishima, Sero and Denki. The latter two arguing over what to watch. Bakugou looks like he’s about to blow a fuse, so Kirishima chimes in,

“Hahah, okay guys, why don’t we just watch a horror movie, like Scream or something? It’s an easy watch.”

“Sounds like a good idea as long as Kaminari doesn’t shit himself.” Sero tries to start again, but this is perfect timing for you to interject.

“Sero, I’m sorry, last time I checked, you’re the one who had to ‘leave suddenly’ when we watched Halloween.” A smirk appears on your face from ear to ear as all four boys turn their head your direction. You notice an empty spot next to Kiri and take the opportunity to sit, careful not to flash anyone.

“Hey Y/N don’t be startin’ on me. I have plenty of stories about you that we could share you know? What about the Jaegerbomb incident?” Sero matched your grin, and you feign shock by slapping your hand to your heart.

“You’re breaking my heart, Hanta. Are you the only ones up?”

“Yeah Iida sort of ‘encouraged’ everyone to go to bed early because of the test tomorrow, but” Denki motions in Bakugou’s direction “the angry Pomeranian barked and he gave up with us.” Bakugou snaps his head up from his phone to stare Denki down, but realizing he’s just proving his point, sighs and goes back to scrolling on his phone.

“You okay Baku-babe?” he grunts and flips you off, but you could see the corner of his lip turn up in a weak smile at the affectionate nickname. You knew he meant well, especially after the time you had spent together over the last summer with the guys; he just had a defensive temperament.

“You wanna join us, y/n?” Kiri propositions with a wide grin. His hair was still styled into sharp points from classes today, contrasting with his relaxed clothing choice of a t-shirt, shorts and crocs. He’d also made the addition of a white bandana around his forehead. As usual, he was looking incredible.

After the time spent together as a group over the break, it was great to get to know everyone better. As Sero’s oldest friend, it was always easier to stick by him, which had ended up in your favour by meeting these clowns. You’d slowly got closer to the other three boys too, but there was something about Kirishima you couldn’t shake.

The way you felt when you were left together alone in the same room at a party, or when the other guys ended up flaking so you spent the night together at his place, there was always a feeling of excitement, in more ways than one.

You’ve never been very good at flirting and you just seem to come across as an anxious mess, but Kiri was pretty much just as bad. Meaning neither of you ever made a move. Just awkward giggles and eye contact that lasted just a little bit too long for friends.

“I actually came to steal some of Momo’s fancy chips but yeah, let me get a snack and I’ll be ready. You guys want anything?” You get up off the couch and start your way to the kitchen.

“BEER. BEER. BEER.” Denki chants, making you giggle.

“Oh I’ll come and help you carry them!” Kiri jumps up to follow behind you. You can hear Sero make a ‘wha-PISH’ whipping sound which makes Denki burst out with laughter. In their defense, it was painfully obvious you were both pining for each other.

The kitchen isn’t far but it is out of earshot of the sitting area. You open the cupboard in the corner to find Momo’s chip bag, left sat there completely empty. “Oh come ON” you sigh, picking up the bag and placing it in the trash.

“No chips left? Don’t worry I got you covered.” Kiri stretches to the gap between the top of the cupboard and the ceiling, feeling about with his hand. Your eyes fixate on the skin that is now showing just above the waistband of his shorts. You slowly move your view up the side of his torso, his shirt draping over his body in all the right places, and then to his face, one eye closed and tongue sticking out in concentration. He totally caught you checking him out and now you’re both stood there blushing like idiots. He finally located the bag he was looking for and brings his hands back down, showing off the slightly dusty bag of unopened chips.

“These are your favourites, right?” You stand in bewilderment looking at the bag and nod. “There are many bonuses to being one of the tallest in this dorm” he grins. He even remembered your favourite chips? You can’t help but smile back.

“Thank you so much. Oh let me get the beers!” you walk over to the fridge and open it up, bending over to search for the well hidden cans. You know your ass is on show, and you’re doing everything you can to make it the best view. Arching your back slightly, barely moving your hips from side to side, putting on a full show without being too obvious. “Ah I found them!” You gather them into your arms, the cold metal against your skin sending shivers up your spine and making your nipples protrude from the thin material of your shirt. You stand back up and close the fridge, turning around to a very red in the face Kirishima. You send a sweet smile his way.

“Do you mind taking a couple they’re coldddd” you whine. He composes himself and grabs the first can he can see looking ready to fall. He then proceeds to take another, slowly exposing more of your chest and your hardened nipples. You notice his eyes dart to them and then back on the beers. Are you two really going to carry on like this? Acting like the sexual tension couldn’t be cut with a knife? His wandering eyes now have you blushing and you’re quick to fill the hanging silence. “Should we really be drinking when we have a test tomorrow? I’m no NARC but you know what Denki can get like. He’ll wake up the whole house.”

“It’ll be fine. The only ones that know where the rest of the stash is are you and me. As long as you can keep a secret, we’re Gucci” he winks.

“Did you… really just use the term ‘Gucci’? like completely unironically?” You laugh, nudging his side.

“Shut upppp y/n. Come on let’s get back to them before Bakugo kills Dumb and Dumber.”

 “Hoes and bros we come bearing beverages!” You walk in and pass out the three beers you held to the boys, Kiri slowly following with the chips and the last two drinks.

“Wait, who are the hoes?..... oh.” Kaminari has a moment of self-realization and stares at the beer in his hand.

“Denki don’t listen to her, she is the last one to be calling anyone a hoe” Sero hits you with another of what will be many insults of the night.

“Uhhhh says the guys who has a body count tally on his wall. If you ever get with Mina you’re going to need to take a trip to Home Depot to paint over those you know?” You counter.

“Can we watch the damn film already?! Could’ve watched half the fucking thing by now.” Bakugou finally lets off some of the pent up steam. Both you and Denki lift your arms up to your forehead in a salute. “Yes sir!”

Grabbing a blanket, you and Kiri get back into your original seats next to each other on the sofa furthest away from the TV. Sero is on the chair to Kiri’s right, sprawled over it in the most boyish way possible, legs stretched wide and arms hanging over the back. Denki and Bakugo share the sofa to your left, Bakugou reserved to the spot at the very end, finally turning his phone off, while Denki almost mimics Sero’s positioning, but one hand is wrapped around his beer chugging it a bit too fast. Sero presses play as you sit back into the sofa. Kiri’s arm is already draped over the back of the headrest, and it’s only a matter of time until his arm drapes around your shoulder and you lean into him.

You’re about ten minutes into the movie when he starts to move his fingers in little circles on your upper arm. If anyone saw you right now, they’d assume you two were together. The months you’ve both spent flirting and teasing, the light touches and the lingering cuddles. This is becoming unbearable for you, its overwhelming. How haven’t you kissed yet? You weren’t really a ‘hoe’ as Sero said, but you certainly weren’t inexperienced and have never had this trouble before, so what was stopping you now? If things continued like this, you were going to explode.

You look up at Kiri, admiring the contours of his face against the light of the TV. The way his eyebrows slightly furrow, and the way he’s chewing his bottom lip between his teeth in concentration. You inhale the mild aroma of cinnamon, which is a scent that follows him around everywhere. You’re certain he’s aware you are staring, by the light blush reforming on his cheeks, but he allows you to for just a little longer. Right up until Denki yelps aloud from a minor jump scare in the film, causing you to jolt yourself and grab onto Kiri’s shirt.

“Don’t tell me you’re scared?” he asks, voice low and husky. “Don’t worry, I got you.” He lifts his free arm and tucks a loose strand of hair behind your ear.

“I-I wasn’t scared. Denki made me jump” you pout.

“Aww, even worse haha” he chuckles, the vibrations flow through your body, straight to your core, making you instantly wet. If he ever really knew the affect he had, you might just die from embarrassment. You release his shirt and return your head to his shoulder; however, his hand has maneuvered itself away from your upper arm and is now placed on your hip. The large amount of warmth is slowly followed by a very light squeeze of reassurance, and you’ve never been more aware that you aren’t wearing any shorts.

His breathing has now quickened, and his hand feels like it might even be shaking a little bit. He was so nervous, which makes him even more endearing. A wave of adrenaline rushed through you as you lift your hand to rest atop of his, to give him the assurance that it is absolutely okay to have his hand there.

About three quarters of the way into the film, all drinks have been consumed, chips have been eaten, Sero pauses and gets up for a pee break. “Couldn’t your bladder have waited? There isn’t that much longer left Se-bro” Kiri teases

“Ei, I don’t think I know anyone who could wait as long as you have” he leans down and darts his eyes between the two of you. You glare with intent to BURN. You thought too long for a comeback and unfortunately, he’s already happily waltzing off to the bathroom.

Kiri turns to you with a smile and lowers his voice. “Did nobody tell tape face that anything worth having is worth waiting for?” and you swear in that moment an entire flutter of butterflies were trying to escape you. That’s the most direct he’s ever been and it’s not something easy to ignore.

“I know you both have hidden the beer and I take personal offense.” Denki bellows. “I bet it’s on top of the cupboard where Kiri keeps all the good stuff” and he gets up and skips off to the kitchen, fully convinced he’s going to find what he’s looking for.

“I’m going to bed. Gotta be up early and you extras are pissing me off.” Bakugou gets up and stretches. “Love you, Bakubro! Mwah!” both you and Kiri heckle him with air kisses and you are met with yet another middle finger as he strolls off to his dorm room, that small smirk still present.

There’s that feeling coming back again. The way you feel whenever you’re alone with Kirishima. But this is the most compromised you’ve been: you’re basically half naked, he’s got his hand on your hip and he just dropped an absolute bomb of a line thanks to Sero. You can’t help yourself and before you truly think it through,

“Ei, I think I’m done waiting.” You lift your head off his shoulder, faces only a few inches apart. You can feel both your heart rates quicken in sync and your bodies getting hotter. He raises his hand and takes your chin in his hand, urging your lips forward onto his. The anticipated contact sends electricity through your body and the kiss deepens quickly, his tongue licks your lower lip asking for entrance and you accept immediately, releasing a soft moan from the motion.

You twist your body round so that you’re straddling his thigh, his wandering hand had slipped under the fabric of your shirt in the same place, playing with the fabric of your underwear. Your hands find their way to the back of his head, pushing him further into your mouth. You both are getting sloppy as lust takes over and you find your hips involuntarily grinding on his thigh. He breaks away from the kiss, pulling at your lower lip and working his way down your jaw to your neck, nipping and sucking lightly, causing louder moans to escape you.

“So- fucking long- I’ve waited- to touch you like this” he groans out between kisses and bites, sure to leave a mark. “Sound so pretty”

“Ah- me too, I- fuck” the stimulation from his voice and touch is almost overwhelming, but clarity sets in quicker than you’d like it too. “Sero will- ah- be back any second” and you release your grip on his hair. He’s really trying to pout at you, but he can’t help let his goofy smile beam through. You stare at each other for a few seconds, both absolutely beaming with happiness. He lets out an almighty sigh,

“Uggggh, you’re right. Hey, what are you doing after this?” he asks as you settle back down next to him, making you chuckle.

“Well I was planning on going back to my dorm and sleeping. Unless you have a better offer?” you beam.

“Well…” his grin gets wider, “you know there’s a sequel to Scream, yknow? Think you might wanna… what’s it called..”

“Scream 2.”

“I can make you scream, too. Sure”  and you erupt into laughter together, from his disgustingly awful pun.

Sero approaches from the corridor “Well you two sure can clear a room.”

“I’d blame it on Kiri’s terrible puns, but Bakubabe went to bed and Electabuzz is currently trying to find the rest of the beer but- oh there you are” Denki walks in, with a pout on his face, and flops back on the couch in disappointment.

“Denks, how about we throw a little party tomorrow after the test. We’ll let you in on where the secret stash is, too.” You offer, his expression immediately switching to that of delight.

Even though there was only a half hour left of the movie, it felt like hours until the end credits started rolling. Denki had managed to fall asleep and was snoring at full velocity, and the only person left paying full attention was Sero, as you couldn’t stop your brain from wandering from anticipation.

He shut the TV off and you tasked yourself with waking up Denki while Kiri cleaned up the empty beer bottles.

“Kami, come on sweetie, you need to go to bed.” You nudge him slightly causing him to stir. Sero walks over, and gives him a hard slap on the ass

‘WAKE UP ASSHOLE! Iida will kill you if you sleep on the couch”

“…I- sleep- your mom-..” he sits up and rubs his eyes

“Don’t be so rough Sero, he’s so sleepy look at hiiiimm” You say, admiring how cute he looked in such tired state. Kaminari finally gets up and all four of you head to the lift… shit.

You are Denki are on the 3rd floor, Kiri is on the 4th and Sero is on the 5th… how are you going to get to Kiri’s room without being suspicious?

A/N: Thank you if you read this in full! Please let me know what you think and if you’d be wanting to read the next part (which would include a lot more spice!)

[crimsinsky]

Sooo I might be obsessed with Jackie and Hyde dating without the Kelso intro... I wish you would write a story where Hyde and Jackie date without her having dated Kelso first. I would love to see Hyde introducing her as his girlfriend bonus if he introduces her to red and kitty!

I'm sorry it took me so long to finish and that it's so long, I got carried away.

Slight trigger warning- nothing happens but attempted non con by background character.

********************************************

The school was deserted for the most part and Hyde was over it. But Forman had to get stuck staying late to work on a project today of all days.

There was nothing remarkable about today, Hyde was just in a bad mood and if he could blame someone else then he’d take the chance.

He was down to counting the minutes that Forman said he’d be done but it was too late, he needed a smoke. He wasn’t stupid enough to do that out in the open at school, you never knew who would narc on you, but he had a pack of cigarettes in his pocket and a craving he needed to tackle.

He was heading off behind the bleachers, Forman would know to look for him there, it was where he always smoked when he got stuck waiting on him.

He heard a commotion, just what he needed his usual spot taken by some horny losers who couldn’t get a room.

“Stop it,” the girl said firmly.

“Come on baby.”

“I am not your baby and I said no.”

Never one to stay out of a fight, Hyde rushed forward.

“Get your hands off of me,” the girl shrieked.

“Hey,” Hyde pulled the boy off the girl and punched him in the face.

He went down hard.

“I think she said no,” Hyde loomed over him. He’d never even seen this kid before, but his blood was on Hyde’s knuckled and streaming down his face.

“Man whatever, she’s just a fucking tease.”

The girl came over and kicked him in the stomach, making him double over on the ground and wheeze.

“You’re a disgusting pig,” she said and started to walk away.

He wheezed, “You can forget about me driving you home.”

“You think,” she shouted before turning back and kicking him in the shins for good measure.

Hyde kept a reasonable distance but didn’t want to leave her out there all alone.

Nearing the parking lot she stopped walking and turned toward her savior.

Hyde got closer.

“Thank you uh… I don’t know your name,” she said shyly.

“Hyde.”

She snorted, “That’s not your name. No one would name their kid Hyde.”

He knew he should have been more annoyed but her change in attitude caught his attention. Though he was still a little annoyed, “It’s my last name.”

“Then what’s your real name?”

“Are you always this big a pain in the ass?”

“Usually yes, so what is your name?” She asked again.

He could have just walked away after she got to safety, but here he was playing 20 questions with this irritating cheerleader. “Steven,” he growled, “but my name is Hyde.”

“Was that so difficult?” Now she looked almost timid, “Thank you, Steven Hyde.”

There was something in the way she said it, the way she looked at him, the way she looked so small. She’d gone from kicking ass to joking, and now she looked not exactly scared of him, but definitely unsure. All his irritation with her melted.

He softened his voice, “Are you okay?” He looked her over, she didn’t seem like she got hurt but you never knew.

She nodded, “I’m fine, he yanked me behind the bleachers and everyone else was gone. I’m really lucky you were here.”

“Well, I don’t think he’ll try it again with you,” He tried distracting her with humor, “did you break a rib or something?”

“No, that’s too far to the side, I might have got his gallbladder though.” She said brightly as if she were simply stating that today was sunny out.

“Hyde,” Eric shouted from the parking lot.

“Hold on a second,” he told her.

He must be a complete God Damned idiot for what he was about to do. Well, Red did always say he was a dumbass.

“Took you long enough,” Hyde growled.

“Sorry mom, my partner nearly burned down the chem lab, it was stay late or fail the semester.”

“Whatever Forman, look can you drop her off at home?” Hyde gestured towards the girl watching him curiously. He’d told her to hold on so she would. Either way, she was curious about him.

Eric raised an eyebrow, “What have you been up to while I was in class?

“Fighting actually.”

“Yeah, that makes the most sense, but sure I can drop her off.”

Hyde ran back to her, “You want a ride home?”

“You’re seriously offering to take me home?”

“Well, you’re ride seems to have left for some reason.

“That would be great actually,” she said relieved. She hated walking home after practice. After school, she didn’t mind, but now it was a little late to be walking alone and with what just happened she didn’t want to be alone.

She followed him to the parking lot.

“So Hyde who’s your friend?” Eric asked. It was so rare that they ever saw Hyde talk to a girl let alone offer her a ride home Eric was not about to squander this opportunity.

“Uh,” he realized in their fighting over his name he never asked her for hers.

“I was wondering if you had any manners,” she said coyly to Hyde. “I’m Jackie Burkhart.”

“I’m Eric,”

Jackie turned to Hyde, “See how easy that was Steven.”

Eric’s face nearly split in two, “Steven, have you been rude?”

“You want me to hit you because I will.”

Eric smirked at him, a silent promise that he would bring it up again.

They got in and Styx started blaring from the radio.

“Styx really?” Hyde groaned at Forman.

“I’m driving, it’s my car, I pick whatever music I want,”

“Maybe Jackie doesn’t like Styx.” He was hoping that having ears that worked she would agree with him.

“They’re not bad,” Jackie said. “But I like ABBA more, they’re my favorite.”

Hyde rolled his eyes. “You cannot be serious?”

“I am, they’re amazing.”

Eric had a perfectly awful idea, this cheerleader seemed to be annoying Hyde and he was taking it probably because she was a girl. But his torture could go a little farther.

“Hey Jackie, some of our friends are hanging out at my house if you want to hang out for a while?”

“Really, who’s there?”

“There’s that foreign exchange kid Fez, Kelso, and my girlfriend Donna. We’re probably just going to watch TV but someone is bound to do something stupid.”

“Alright, it sounds fun,”

Hyde shot him a look that meant he’d kill him. Well, he hadn’t done it yet, so Eric didn’t worry about it.

When they walked into the basement they saw two boys trying to duct tape fireworks to a suit, and a redheaded girl with her head in her hands.

“Is everything okay?” Hyde asked Donna.

“I hid the matches but they’re still stupid,” Donna said without looking up.

“Hey, everyone this is Jackie,” Eric announced.

At that, Donna looked up.

“Oh thank God, another girl.” Donna was desperate for anyone who was not one of her stupid friends to talk to. “Please save me from this idiotic amount of testosterone.”

Jackie made a beeline for Donna and plopped down next to her, “You must be Donna, Eric talked about you on the way over.”

Kelso finally looked up from his firework suit.

“Oh my god she’s hot.” He jumped over to the couch. “Since you’re a cheerleader we should totally go out,” Kelso said.

Donna sighed, “I told you, stupid.”

“Why?” Jackie looked up at him blankly.

“Cuz you’re like super hot.”

“I know that, but why does that mean I should go out with you?”

“Burn,” Fez looked to Eric hopefully, “did I do that right?”

“You’re getting the hang of it buddy.”

The girls chatted and tried to ignore Kelso and Fez.

“We were talking about going to the disco in Kenosha, that seems like it would be up your alley.”

“Absolutely, when are you going? I will totally go.”

“Donna, really, disco?” Hyde asked, he hated disco.

“Just because you don’t like it doesn’t mean we all can’t be seen in the only club within three hours for a night,” she shot back.

“But who are you going with? Like you shouldn’t go alone,” Kelso said trying to push himself into their conversation hoping to get an in with Jackie.

“Hmm, I’ll go with,” Jackie’s eyes roamed the three single boys landing briefly on each of them, and lingering a little longer on Hyde.

“Donna. She did invite me after all.”

“You can’t go with Donna, you have to go with a guy?”

Hyde smirked at Kelso not getting his way.

“Who said I do? And I don’t really know any of you, so Donna will you go with me and these boys can do whatever?”

“You know what sure, except Eric definitely has to go with us because of the car.”

“Because of the car? Really, is all I am to you a set of wheels.”

“No, just when we want to leave town.” Donna turned back to Jackie, “We’re going on Saturday,”

“Perfect. Do you have a dress we could go shopping before then?”

“That would be great.”

They hung out for a while until Jackie finally called her dad to pick her up before her curfew. “I have to get going, but this was fun,” she stood and headed for the door, “It was nice meeting everyone.”

Once she was gone it was like the volume dropped three decibels.

“So, looks like Donna has a new friend too.”

“Jackie’s cool, energetic like crazy but she’s cool. Though she did call me a lumberjack because of the flannel shirt.”

“How did you meet her?”

“Oh, I didn’t,” Eric grinned idiotically, “Our boy Hyde here met her while I was stuck in the Science Lab. Now how did that happen?”

“Get bent,” Hyde replied.

“Manners like that, no wonder she agreed to hang out here. She was totally swept away,” Eric kept egging him on.

“Some guy was hassling her and she was alone alright,” Hyde crossed his arms and went back to watching TV.

“So you swoop in and try to get some with heroic gratitude nice,” Kelso said.

“Hey, Kelso come here,” Hyde waved him over.

Kelso stood beside him and Hyde nailed him in the side.

“Sorry, ow,” he pouted.

“Say something like that in front of Jackie and she might do worse, she did to the guy that was bothering her.” Hyde suppressed a smile.

He didn’t smile, but still, the memory of her as little as she was, kicking the crap out of that guy, it made him kind of fond of her.

Hyde humiliated himself over and over, he didn’t know why he did it. He also didn’t know why he was going to this stupid club, other than watching Kelso get rejected that never got old.

But Red saw right through him and Kitty spent the next few days teaching him to dance. He wasn’t great but he could manage.

Plus he’d seen Kelso dance before. Hyde was practically Fred Astaire in comparison.

Hyde was waiting outside for everyone since Donna wanted to see Eric’s reaction to her in girly clothes.

He looked up when he heard a car door shut.

She was stunning. Gone was the cute little girl he’d found behind the bleachers, she looked radiant with her hair curled but loose ringlets framing her delicate face.

“Wow, you look beautiful,”

Her smile turned almost shy at the praise. “Thank you, you clean up pretty good yourself.”

“Yeah, well.”

Before he could say anything else Forman and Donna came outside and they were followed by Tweedle Dee and Dumb.

“What no flowers?” Jackie asked Donna.

“You asked me remember?”

“Hmm, I guess you’re right.”

“Hey, stop trying to steal my girlfriend,” Eric joked realizing he too didn’t have flowers for Donna.

“Don’t be so hasty Eric,” Kelso said. “Just see where the night takes it.”

Everyone except Fez hit or kicked him at once.

“Alright everyone in before my mom tries to get pictures.”

“I’m not sitting next to Michael,” Jackie declared.

“You take window, I’ll sit beside you, that work?” Hyde asked.

“Yes,” she agreed easily.

“Great let’s get in the car and go.” He desperately wanted to get going before Mrs. Forman found them all.

Kelso asked her to dance, which Jackie refused, she’d watched him dance alone on the floor, she wasn’t sure if he was going to hurt someone and she didn’t want to be liable.

Fez asked her next when she refused he and Donna went to the dance floor.

He was a great dancer, she admitted.

The truth was she didn’t want to dance with them, she was interested in someone else.

“Why aren’t you dancing,” Hyde asked her,

“I didn’t want to dance with Kelso or Fez.”

“But you want to dance?”

“Yes,” she said honestly. She had that timid look from a few days before and he couldn’t help himself.

He had after all spent days learning these stupid dances. Might as well use it.

“Come on,” He held out his hand and she took it immediately.

They danced closer than Fez and Donna did.

Jackie felt the rush of being so close to him electrify her skin.

“You’re a really good dancer,” Jackie told him.

“Thanks, so are you. So why weren’t you dancing before?” He wanted to hear it from her, she’d nearly ignored Fez and Kelso but put up zero fight to dancing with him.

“The right person didn’t ask me.”

“And I’m the right person?”

She smiled up at him, and his breath caught. “

You just might be, Steven Hyde.”

She annoyed him, but she intrigued him more. She was bossy and bratty, but she’d won over Donna and maybe even Forman. There was just something about her he couldn’t help wanting to discover.

“You want to go out sometime?”

“Like on a date?”

He rolled his eyes, “Yeah, on a date.”

“I would love that, Steven.” Jackie stood on her toes and kissed his cheek gently.

For some reason, he didn’t mind her calling him Steven. It was weird that he didn’t, but something told him he’d have to get used to that.

A few weeks later

“Red, Mrs. Forman, can I talk to you for a minute?

“No,” Red growled leaning over the engine of the car.

“Sure, Honey what is it?”

“I just wanted you to meet someone,” He waved her over from inside the house, “this is my girlfriend Jackie.”

They’d hung out in the basement a few times but they tended to go off by themselves to get to know each other without the hassle of the others.

“It’s nice to meet you,” Jackie said nervously. She knew how important the Forman’s were to Steven.

“Steven,” Kitty jokingly scolded, “you didn’t tell us you had such a cute girlfriend.”

“Don’t tell her that, she’ll get a big head.”

“Steven, I already know I’m cute. And thank you, Mrs. Forman.”

“See,” Hyde reiterated.

“Yeah, well I need to fix this cute carburetor,” Red went back over to the cruiser.

“Do you need some help?” Jackie offered.

“I think I need to go get my camera,” Kitty said rushing off into the kitchen.

[melonishus]

Faith (Part 1)

It is @rei-of-sunsh1ne gift present time, so I made them this

____

Winter stood outside the Academy, crossing her arms as she checked her watch, yet again her girlfriend was late. She scowled as she looked up to the stars, letting out an exasperated sigh, she didn't mind usually but she had something important to tell her tonight.

As the minutes continued to drag on, she heard a disturbance in the schools armory, and as a ...PERFECT student...she had to investigate. She quickly moved into a nearby bush and watched several figures come out of a building, carrying an assortment of stolen goods. She frowned as she considered her battle strategy, she couldn't call her weapon down discreetly, so she was going to have to rely on glyphs and summons against four likely armed intruders, two of them didn't appear to be anything special but the last one was a complete unit.

"Hey" a familiar sounding voice called out from inside "Why don't you just vore all the cargo ?"

The smaller one paused , rubbing the back of their head "Vore ?"

Winter saw the other two turn angrily towards the doorway as her girlfriend emerged from the recesses of the building, looking beautiful even as she ruined her own life. Without thinking, Winter stood up , and pointed dramatically at the big one , drawing the groups attention

"Don't try it !" she cried out fiercely "I'll have you know that I'm at the top of my sparring class

May and the three intruders looked between each other before the tiny one, a sheep faunus let out a giggle which she quickly stifled. Winter glared and started marching towards her , only to be blocked by May

"May ?!" Winter growled, trying to move past her girlfriend to teach the intruder a lesson "Stand aside, that's school property"

"Winny listen"

The sheep faunus laughed again, getting an uncharacteristic hiss from Winter, which quickly shut her up

"I didn't want to involve you with this part, but ....since you're here" May said, extending her hand towards Winter "I.....want you to come with me and my friends"

Winter looked at her like she was insane, turning to face the three intruders who stepped out into the light to reveal their identities

Robyn Hill, Joanna Greenleaf and Fiona Thyme, three hoodlums who always seemed to have something to say against Atlas. She couldnt really say she was surprised to see THEM here

Winter narrowed her eyes "What ? I'm not going anywhere until I graduate"

Joanna facepalmed "Well, what now Marigold ?"

May stuck her tongue out adorably, cupping her face in concentration " Well... I guess Fiona can vore one extra bit of cargo"

"Guys, what is vore ?" Fiona said with concern as Winter backed up with concern

Robyn sighed and just pointed at Winter "Don't worry about it, just use your semblance on the brown noser"

"BROWN NOSER ?!" Winter said outraged as she was unceremoniously sucked up into Fiona's vacuum chute

......

Winter woke up in a daze, tied to a chair in what appeared to be some kind of low budget theme bar, her mouth tasting of....grass ?

"Was I DRUGGED ?!" Winter angrily called out through her fatigue "REALLY !"

May sheepishly peaked into the room "Well....no. I just have to convince the girls you're not a narc"

"RELEASE ME" she squawked, kicking her legs angrily

May squeaked and ducked back into the other room like a scared mouse, she had never seen Winter this angry before....it was kind of hot

Winter sighed and looked around the room, unable to stay angry at May for TOO long. There wasn't much of anything she could bring back to base about this little operation besides something on March 31st. May had gone through alot of trouble circling that date on the calendar, doodling a cute little knife in the middle. Was she planning a murder ?

"I would have helped....I'm great at planning" Winter pouted to herself

....

May walked back into the other room , her friends continuing to argue like they were when she left

"Well" Robyn said with a slight note of irritation in her voice "Is she going to work with us"

May winced "WELL ....she's still kind of irritated about being kidnapped, so I haven't really approached the subject with her yet

"She was so sweet in my pocket dimension" Fiona chirped as the waved her legs back and forth under the desk

Joanna frowned "What even goes on in there"

Fiona turned to Joanna, not breaking her smile and cheerful tone "You'll never know"

They stared at each other for several moments, Joanna glowering down at the tiny sheep girl as they both participated in a battle of wills. She lowered herself down to Fiona's level, focusing on exerting dominance until she saw into her eyes, a deep unending olive void that held no fear

"Rawr" Fiona said, holding her hands up like claws, causing Joanna to let out a yell as she jumped back

"Fiona" Robyn barked "Quit picking on Joanna, this is serious"

The tiny member of the party chuckled and leaned back, ending hostilities.

"May listen" Robyn said diplomatically as she approached May , placing her her shoulder "I know you like Winter, but if we can't get her to fall in line, we're going to have to let Fiona put her away until she can't give away our secrets"

May took a step back, looking at everyone defensively "She's cool"

"She's a Schnee, and a nerdy one at that

"I said she's COOL"

May dramatically ran out of the room, and past Winter into her bedroom which was right through the door behind her . She slammed the door and jumped on her bed to try into her pillow

"May"

May looked up at the sound of Winter's voice, wiping her eyes as she tried to compose herself.

"May, I wish I could come hug you right now to make you feel better....but I'm a little tied up at the moment

"That was a terrible joke" May chuckled, feeling a little better at Winter's attempts at comforting her, feeling the growing pout come from her bound girlfriend on the other side of the door

"Well at least I'm TRYING"

[johannawrites]

𝗴𝗼𝗼𝗱 𝗴𝗶𝗿𝗹𝘀 𝗿𝗲𝘃𝗼𝗹𝘁 𝘀𝗲𝗻𝘁𝗲𝗻𝗰𝗲 𝘀𝘁𝗮𝗿𝘁𝗲𝗿𝘀 - 𝟭𝘅𝟬𝟭

 (  a  series  of  prompts  from  first  episode  of  the  amazon  show  good  girls  revolt .   change  pronouns  as  necessary  !  )

“Um, is it true what you wrote in your letter?”

“Did you really go to an orgy down there?”

“Peace and love are back in California.”

“We can't give up on this story yet.”

“Yeah, well, youth is wasted on the young.”

“Do I have to wear a tiara?”

“Yes. I mean, no. But something fabulously chic.”

“All that's left to do now is to make yourself indispensable.”

“Fantastic. What's her number?”

“She's only going to talk to me.”

“Okay, look, I know you were the more natural fit for this story, but there's nothing I can do. Don't sabotage the story.”

“I'm trying to help.”

“No, I'm working under a deadline.”

“I get serious and start a family.”

“A serious family. Please don't invite me to the dinner parties.”

“I don't joke about writing or cooking.”

“I don't joke about drinking or cooking.”

“See, we're the perfect duo.”

“It's like you guys are fighting over the lower bunk bed in jail.”

“We're finally in the same city after months of being pen pals. God.”

“Well, I already told my parents you were coming.”

“Oh. Your parents. I didn't, uh... I didn't know that they were a part of this event. It's... it's so conventional. I mean, I have to kiss the ring before we can start dating?”

“You know, I wouldn't mind meeting your parents.”

“Oh, no. No one's meeting my parents. Ever.”

“See you in an hour.”

“What are you still doing here?”

“Quite a cat fight last night.”

“Is it true that someone's left a comb on her desk every morning since she got back?”

“You sound like an old man who doesn't know what's cool anymore.”

“Real women never go out of style.”

“No, coffee's supposed to be black. You don't put milk in coffee.”

“Oh, I was just coming to find you.”

“So sorry I stood you up last night. I was working late and I just crashed in the infirmary.”

“Don't try and soften me up.”

“Why don't you let me make it up to you. Hmm?”

“Okay. A week ago we were sending each other letters sprayed with sandalwood oil. What happened?”

“That was a dream. You moved back home to New York. To reality.”

“I'm young. I want to have fun, I want to tiptoe through the tulips. I feel like you're trying to put me in a box.”

“I'm not. Is that what you think of getting dolled up for a night on the town?”

“I don't have anything to wear.”

“They're gonna love you. I already told them how happy you make me.”

“Hey, babe. If you don't change, everyone's gonna think you came home with me anyway.”

“And that's when you saw the first guy fall down or get pushed down?”

“I'm not saying it's sh1t, but you might want to take another stab at that lead. Starting off with a quote won't fly, believe me.”

“I don't suppose you could run out and grab a birthday gift for a 13 year old girl?”

“A lot can happen here in 90 minutes, Y/N. Anything else?”

“How about you start calling me by my full name?”

Nope. That'd take too long.”

“I was here, too...I fell asleep.”

“Okay, now without yelling at me, tell me what she said.”

“They started the riot, not the fans.”

“So they're hiding something. Shit. That's good.”

“There were 300,000 people there, but no law enforcement presence whatsoever.”

“You're pretty cute when you've got a scoop.”

“But they escalated things instead of controlling them.

“I am so proud of you.”

“Hey, as far as I can tell, you and I are kicking everybody else's ass in the city.”

“The song will haunt you because you have such a good ear for music.”

“You should really get high first. Then you'll really dig it.”

“Well, I'm over 30. I'm too old to try pot.”

“Oh, no. No one's too old to smoke out.”

“That's good to know.”

“Because nobody trusts the police.”

“Because they would arrest you for smoking marijuana. So the bands felt safer hiring an outlaw motorcycle gang.”

“So they bonded at those parties. There was a kinship.”

“Yeah, but doing drugs doesn't necessarily mean you believe in peace and love.”

“Well, yes, it does. Uh, I mean it... did. It was supposed to.”

“Can't say I'm surprised at your decision. Bummed out, but not surprised.

“Can you use your dad's credit card?”

“You can't be serious.”

“We're too close to give up now.”

“Your car is downstairs.”

“I'm not gonna make it.”

“Oh, good, you got the gloves.”

“I'm glad you spent a little extra for the 11 inch style. The ones that hit you right at the wrist bone are the least functional things I have ever…”

“I just haven't slept well the last few nights. I'm... clumsy.”

“You didn't eat much dinner.”

“I ate.”

“What do you women even do in there?”

“I'll be out soon.”

“No, I don't want anything about me in print.”

“Like I told you before, I am gonna read all of your quotes back to you.”

“No, I don't want my name, age or anything about me in there. I'm disposable. I'm a back up singer. My job is to sweeten the band's sound. And I do that only as long as I look good and sound good to them. You dig it?”

“If anyone from a record company reads that I'm up there with an opinion of my own... That I'm a narc... I'll be moppin' floors instead of singing in amphitheaters.”

“Good morning, my whispering coven.”

“Is she sick?”

“Very ill. Death's door.”

“Well, I feel like shit and I'm here. Call her and tell her to come in.”

“People are devastated out there, Y/N.”

“There's devastation in here, too.”

“Detailed eyewitness account from two sources.”

“Great. What did these guys see?”

“The guys are gals.”

“One of the things that stuck with me over the years is what I learned about ancient Roman dentistry. To treat a toothache, they advocated gargling with urine. And it was only after prolonged and ineffectual swishing with piss that an extraction would ultimately be undertaken.”

“This is a three-ring circus, folks.”

“But both of their stories support one another.”

“There are our man-on-the-street interviews, except that they happen to be women with no clout.”

“Oh, God! I knew I could break this story wide open, and I did.”

“You stood me up. For the second night in a row. You lied to me so that you could help them... Are you listening to a word I'm saying?”

“My God, is there a "we" in any of this?

“I'm sorry I stood you up. Twice.

“You turned the ship around.”

“Yeah. That felt pretty good.”

“Please, do not insult me by making this personal.”

“Did you do my job for me yet?”

“I left you two choices. You present me with the same two choices. It's unacceptable.

“Why don't you arm wrestle over it?”

“So boring.”

“Just pretend like you're seriously working.”

I don't want to get fired here, okay?

“Oh, I... I got my period.”

“Is this the first time?”

“That's simply how we do things here. We have rules, protocol.”

“Those rules are dumb.”

“We do not change our modus operandi for one person.”

“Now, clearly, you are a very talented…”

“Clearly, I don't belong here. This is ridiculous. I quit.”

“Well, your name is all you have in journalism.”

“Did you get another job?”

“No, I just got this one.”

[dreamer213]

Broken Machines: Lights The Dark

Chapter 10 Saturday School Kids Can Be Cruel.

Friday night had been pretty fun when Penny finally got home. She had called Pietro earlier in the day to tell him not to make her too much for dinner because she had a big lunch. She managed to keep the petit fours a secret until she got home. When she did get home, she plopped the box down on the table while he had his back turned and shouted “SURPRISE” as he turned around. He was so surprised he almost dropped their dinner, but Penny took the tray off his hands before anything got ruined. That night they had baked potatoes with tiny cakes and tea for dessert. The following morning Penny woke up to a pre-made plate of bacon and eggs, some money, and a note.

“ Morning Penny, They had to call me in for some emergency maintenance on the mech’s cannon again. There’s gonna be a lot to be done so I won’t be back till tomorrow. Be safe while I’m gone; remember to eat and stay charged.”

“Love you Sunshine, Dad.”

Penny: He won’t be home till tomorrow. I’m going to be alone here until tomorrow.

Penny frowns unconsciously; she had rarely been away from her dad since she was stationed. His presence had been her only constant comfort since the tournament; she hadn’t gone a day without him and she had never thought about what would happen if she had to. It’s honestly quite scary to be alone with nothing be her thoughts. Whenever she was, everything felt so small, so quiet, so….. suffocating like a black void pooling around her.

Penny: No one will be here when I get back or when I go to sleep tonight. When it’s dark, it’ll just be, be-

Penny shakes her head, pushing out the worrying thoughts before they get worse.

Penny: Stop. You are fine, you are strong, you are not hopeless, and one night on your own will not hurt you. Just eat your breakfast and go to work.

Penny sits down at the table and quietly eats her now cold breakfast. Once she’s done, she washes her dishes, turns off all the lights, and heads off to her morning patrol. The patrol went well, no robberies or emergencies today, for some reason this didn't make Penny happy, even though it meant she would have less paperwork at the end of the day. Before long, it’s time to help at the training facility. Saturdays and Sundays were always the easiest days of the week at the facility as most academy students rested or went home on weekends, and most hunters took it easy on the weekends too, so besides makeup sessions and a few fitness hobbyists, no one came in. Which meant Penny was never requested on these days. Or so she thought. When she arrived, Penny is told that a team has requested her assistant for their session and was waiting for her in her usual room. This surprised her but Penny did as she was told and headed towards the training room. As she walked, she wondered who could have possibly asked for her on a Saturday afternoon. Could it be Winter? No, she liked to train by herself. Academy students? No, any student who came in on the weekend was to be monitored by a teacher. Could it..Ciel?...No there was no possible way she had asked for her. Penny kept pondering, but no matter how hard she thought, she couldn’t guess who could be waiting for her in that room. She’d just had to go in and see for herself. Once she finally reached the training room, the moment she enters the room, something tackles her! Penny wrests her attacker onto the floor and pins their hands behind their back. She’s about to question them when she feels something touch her back. She grabs it, gripping it tightly in her hands. She looks at it and sees it’s a long fluffy orange tail.

Penny: An orange cat tail? Neon Katt?

Penny looks down and realizes she’s holding down Neon!

Neon: Yeah, it’s me. And if not too much to ask, could you let go of my tail and GET OFF ME!

Penny: Right away. I’m so sorry!

Penny lets her go, and they both get off the floor. Before Penny can ask why Neon tackled her, Neon starts rolling towards the rest of her team. Penny tries to keep up and ask her what’s going on, but Neon wouldn't even look at her. When they finally reach the rest of the team, FNKI Neon hides behind Flynt. Penny gives up on Neon and decides to just wait to ask one of the others.

Penny: Good afternoon Team FNKI.

Flynt: Hey Penny, nice to see you.

Ivori: Afternoon to you too, Ms. Penny.

Kobalt: Sup Penny, hope you got affairs in order cause you’re about to see hell. (chuckles)

Ivori: Koco!

Ivori pops Kobalt in his side with the handle of his whip. Kobalt rubs his side in pain and annoyed.

Kobalt: Ow, the hell Ivy!

Ivori: Could you please not act like a jackass for one minute.

Kobalt: How was I being a jackass? We know what’s about to go down, I was just giving her a heads up!

Ivori: Still, would it kill you to show some tact for once. I mean Is it really so hard for you to-

Penny: Excuse me.

Both young men stop and return their attention to Penny.

Penny: What exactly is going on? I have no idea what is happening and what exactly I’ve done to get this kind of reaction. Could one of you please explain?

Flynt: Yeah, sorry about that. You see what happened was-

Suddenly, Neon pushes Flynt out of the way and gets in Penny’s face. She gets less than an inch away from Penny’s face, looking really upset.

Neon: You didn’t call.

Penny: Excuse me?

Neon continues to stare her down, arms crossed with a big frown on her face.

Neon: You didn’t call me! I gave you my number, asked you to call me, waited two weeks for you to call, but you never did. So rude!

Penny: I am sorry Neon, I have been very busy for the last few weeks and hadn’t thought about our conversation since then.

Neon: Wow, talk about thoughtless. Or am I just that forgettable to you?

Penny: No, I just had over things I needed to give my full attention to at the time. That and I didn’t have anything to talk about.

Neon: Uh, That’s so not true! What about that “secret mission” Ironwood has you working on?

Penny: I’m not supposed to talk about that.

Neon: Yeah, with civilians! You’re supposed to gossip about your crazy missions and stupid paperwork with coworkers, stupid. Sharing wild stories is like the best thing about being a soldier! And besides, this isn’t just an everyday mission; it's one the General himself had to come to your house and get you out of bed for. How could you not wanna talk about that?

Penny: How did you know about that?

Neon: Same way I shoulda heard from you. Now talk! I wanna hear everything!

Penny stares blankly at Neon as she piece together what she just heard. She looked over at the rest of Team FNKI; the three young men were standing awkwardly, embarrassed but unsurprised by Neon’s actions. Finally understanding what’s going on, Penny turns her attention back to Neon.

Penny: So if I’m hearing this correctly, you request this room and my presence with sole purpose of having a recreational conversation?

Neon: Yeah!

Penny: And you do realize that in doing so, you are misappropriating both military equipment and personnel?

With that, Neon’s pout drops, and so does her tail, Flynt facepalms and hangs his head, Ivori does everything he can to avoid making eye contact, and Kobalt’s looking around and whistling, trying his best to play it cool. Penny crosses her arms, unimpressed by their silly plan.

Penny: Team FNKI, please leave this area immediately so that others may use it properly.

Neon: What! Oh come on, no one even comes here on Saturday!

Penny: That is incorrect and irrelevant; this room is for training purposes only, not socializing. If you aren’t going to train then you have to leave. Those are the rules we must follow as soldiers.

Neon: OMG, Are you really doing this right now? Ugh why do you have to be such a narc-

Neon is quickly interrupted by Flynt getting in between the warring redheads.

Flynt: Okay, I’m sensing way too much hostility here, so why don’t we all just take as sec to calm down and come up with some kind of solution.

Neon about to start arguing again but Flynt turns to her and puts a hand on her cheek; he caresses her cheek with his thumb and lightly scratches her jawline with his other fingers. Soon Neon lets out a low purr as she full calms down from her hissy fit.

Flynt: Kitty, I know you just wanna talk, but we gotta follow the rule. So, how about this, you like skating, right?

A now calm Neon simply nods her head as she continues to receive scratches.

Flynt: Then how about you do a little speed test, you race around the room a few times while Penny tracks your speed and you two talk as you go. Me and the boys can stay here and do some stretches while you ladies race and chat. Sound good to you?

Neon: Yeah…Sounds…good.

Flynt: Good.

Still scratching away, Flynt turns his head to Penny.

Flynt: Sound okay to you, Penny?

Penny: Since the activities are forms of training, yes that would be acceptable.

Flynt: Great, thank ya Penny.

Flynt takes his hand off Neon’s cheek onto her shoulder and rolls her towards Penny as he returns to his spot next to Ivori and Kobalt. Penny and Neon walk to the edge of the room near the entrance; once there, the two stand close to the wall, and Neon takes a starting stance. Penny clicks her heels together and starts her rocket boots; they’re on a lower setting to match Neon’s gliding and sets an internal stopwatch. Penny gives a quick glance to the boys, and they were indeed doing stretches as promised, then looks back to Neon. They make eye contact, Noen mouths, “Ready?” and Penny holds up a hand and starts counting down. 5….4……3….2….1.

Both girls dash off at tremendous speeds. They remain neck and neck as they go around the room and soon Neon starts talking again.

Neon: So what’s going on with this secret mission?

Penny: I’m investigating a crime, and I need to go undercover to find the perpetrator.

Neon: Cool, so are they just dropping you in or what?

Penny: No, because of the lifestyle and living situation of the people on the suspect list, I have to receive some training on how to behave and act without seeming suspicious.

Neon: Oh, is it like stealth training?

Penny: Yes and no, I’m taking etiquette lessons so that I may infiltrate Atlas high society.

Neon: Woah, really? Damn that’s like straight out of a spy movie! So who they got teaching you to act all distinguished and junk? I don’t know we had an expert on that stuff just lying around here.

Penny: We don’t, an elite is instructing me as a form of repayment for saving his life at a party.

Neon: Uh ew, you’re getting lessons from some old fart elite. Gross.

Penny: No, he’s actually a teenage boy. And he’s not gross; he’s very clean and friendly.

Neon: A teenager! They seriously gotta another kid teaching you? Way to pay off a life debt.

Penny: It’s actually very nice; Our ages being so close makes our dynamic fairly even, he’s intelligent, easy to talk to, and very kind, and the way he teaches is unique and very fun.

Neon: Ooooh cool. Is he cute?

Penny: He’s…more beautiful than cute.

Neon: Oh yeah? How exactly?

Penny: Well, he’s has a model’s figure, lean, long legs, high shoulders, and excellent posture. You could take a picture of him at any angle, and he’d always look amazing. His face is also gorgeous, pink lips that look nice even in a smirk, high cheekbones, a cute little nose, and his eyes! I’ve never seen a pair so blue and shiny before; they look like a deep sea with the brilliance of a gemstone. And his hair is so soft and neat that it looks like silk and is white as fresh snow.

Penny begins to sway from left to right, hands behind her back and a sweet smile on her face. She’s slowing down and moving further and further away from the wall as they go. Neon slows to match her speed.

Neon: Wow, so he’s grade A in the looks department. What about his personality?

Penny: As I previously stated, he’s very intelligent. He’s also creative and well-spoken I could talk with him for hours if I had the time to. He’s a bit abrasive, not cruel by any means just very direct and confident, and charming and witty (giggle), which is a little funny because his first name starts with Whit. (giggles)

Neon: (giggles) Sounds like you really really like this guy.

Penny: I do. Being around him is just so….wonderful. Sometimes when I’m with him, it feels like it’s just the two of us; I have his full attention, and he has mine. It’s very..cozy and a bit

A slight blush glows on Penny’s cheeks. She turns around and starts flying backwards.

Penny: exhilarating. So much so that sometimes I feel a little dizzy and get this thumping feeling in my chest when he looks at me for too long or says something really nice to me. It’s really-

Penny is intercepted by her accidentally backing into the wall of one of the obstacles. Luckily for her, her aura was active, and she had slowed down so much that the impact was damaging in the slightest. Still hurt a bit though.

Neon: Ooooooh shit.

Neon rushes over to Penny, having been in earshot of the collision come running to see if everything’s okay.

Flynt: I heard a bang. Who got hurt?

Kobalt: 5000 lien says Neon got bored and pushed her off a platform.

Ivori: Koco I swear to every God if you don’t stop I hit you right in the-

Neon: Will you two mouthy douche cakes shut up and actually help!

The two stop their bickering and go to Penny. They try to help her up, but Penny puts her hands up as they try, and they back up to give her some space. Penny turns off her boots, takes a second to regain her balance, and steadies herself fully on the floor. The team begin conversing about what’s just happened.

Ivori: Are you okay, dear? Do you need us to get someone?

Penny: No, thank you, I’m fine. My aura was activated, and it was a slow speed collision, so there was no damage aside from the initial shock of the impact.

Flynt: But why’d you crash?

Penny: I-

Neon: Oh, it was nothing really. Penny just go all wispy talking about this dreamy boy she met.

Penny: W-what? What are you-

Kobalt: Oooh, so that what you two were talking about. A boy.

Neon: Yup, she was so caught up in her gushing that she slammed herself into that wall. (laughs) Can’t say I blame her though, all cute girls go a little brain dead when they think about their crush. I know I did.

Kobalt: And since when did you count as a cute girl?

Neon playful elbows Kobalt in the side, and Kobalt returns the favor while Penny looks on, confused by their words.

Penny: Excuse me, but do you mean by a crush?

Neon: Oh, you know.

Penny: No, I do not know.

Neon: You know it’s when you really like someone.

Penny tilts her head to the side, confused.

Penny: But I like a lot of people.

Neon: Yeah, but a crush is when you really like someone. Like you like like them.

Penny: Like like?

Kobalt: You know, they make you feel all floaty, makes your head all foggy, and gives you butterflies in your tummy.

Penny: How would someone get insects in my stomach?

Neon and Kobalt sigh in unison, frustrated with her lack of knowledge. Meanwhile, Ivori walks up to Penny, dusts off her sleeves, and takes both her hands in his, taking over the situation.

Ivori: Sorry about those two. They have don’t know how to take anything seriously. Now the gist of what they were trying to say is that a crush is when you have some romantic feelings for someone.

Penny: Romantic..feelings?

Ivori: Yes, when you’re with this person, it’s very special. They’re beautiful to you; they make you feel warm and safe and happy. You want to hold them, laugh with them, kiss them, and just be romantic with them.

Penny: But I’ve never wanted to ki-

For a second, the unconscious thought of kissing Whitley plays through Penny’s mind. Suddenly the thumping in her chest returned, and her face started to redden. Penny tries to make the thought go away, but Ivori’s words keep replaying in her head, and memories of Whitley pour in with it. Her face gets redder and redder until she’s at the max amount of flushed her body can be. She tries to speak her mind still jumbled.

Penny: I-I d-don’t have r-romantic fe-feelings for hi-(hiccup)

Penny quickly rips her hands from Ivori and covers her mouth, astonished that she had somehow just said a lie.

Kobalt: The hell was that!

Penny: N-nothing (hiccup)

Neon: Wait a sec, I’ve heard about this. She hiccups when she lies. You lied, you’re totally crushing on this guy, aren’t you?

Penny: No I’m not-(hiccup)

Kobalt: Holy shit, that’s fucking adorable! Do it again! Do it again!

Neon: Penny’s got a crush, Penny’s got a crush.~

Neon chants in a sing-song voice, Kobalt chuckling at her side.

Penny: No, I don't-(hiccup) Stop it!

Neon continues to chant and Kobalt joins in, Penny just covers her face, silently praying for the ground to swallow her up and away from this as they continue heckling her. After a while Ivori decides that enough was enough and gets in the two jokesters faces.

Ivori: Both of you stop that right now! Can’t you see that hurting the poor girl’s feelings!

Neon: Ugh, Lighten up we’re were just kidding around.

Kobalt: Yeah, you’re supposed to tease people when they get a crush. We did the same thing to you.

Ivori: That was different, you don’t make fun of a little girl. Especially one like Penny.

Neon: Oh, come on, if she’s gonna be a soldier, she has to be able to handle some hazing.

Ivori: But you still shouldn’t be prying into her personal life like this.

Flynt: All three of you shouldn’t have been prying at all.

Flynt final chimes in, having stayed silent for far too long.

Flynt: Koco, Kitty cut it out right now; it's not funny. Ivy, you should’ve stayed out of it; you played right into their game and lost. Take your L and walk away.

The three listen and stop arguing, and Flynt turns to Penny. He takes off his shades, gives her a reassuring smile, and pats her shoulder.

Flynt: Penny, I understand you’re vulnerable and awkward right now, that’s normal. If you wanna talk about this, we’ll gladly listen but if not that’s okay too. We won’t push you, and I’m sorry if we made you uncomfortable today.

Penny: Thank you Flynt Coal, your apology is accepted.

Flynt: Okay, now if there’s anything you need feel free to-

???: Excuse me.

Everyone stops in their tracks as a familiar voice rings out into the room. They look towards the door to see Winter walking towards them, stern-faced as always.

Winter: Apologies if I’m interrupting your conversation Team FNKI, but your time is almost up, and I need to have a talk with Penny. And since it seems like you have already finished up, I’d like you all to leave.

Flynt: Yes Ma’am, let's go people, time to bounce.

Flynt gives Penny a wave and heads towards the door, followed by Ivori, who gives her a sweet smile, followed by Kobalt, who ruffled her hair, and lastly Neon, who gave her a peace sign as she rolls past. Once they’ve left the room, Winter and Penny are left to converse.

Winter: Penny Polendina.

Penny: Yes, Winter Schnee.

Winter: I understand you have had a change in schedule.

Penny: Yes, I have.

Winter: When you return to your usual schedule, I’d like you to join me on my errand.

Penny: You mean the-

Winter: She’s asked for you, said that your presence was calming. I’ve already spoken to Ironwood, and he’s approved the change. As soon as your investigation is over, you’ll be accompanying me for this task twice a week. Understood.

Penny: Affirmative.

Winter: Excellent, now run along the carrier for the evening shift is leaving soon.

Penny: Yes Ma’am, have a good day.

Penny exists the room, leaving Winter alone to train, soon she’s back in Mantle and headed to the station to fill out her daily reports. It doesn’t take long as it has been a very uneventful day so she finishes in around two hours. From there she walks home, unlocking the door and stepping into the living room, turn on the lights as she enters.

Penny: I’m home-

Penny begins her usual greeting before remembering that she’s alone. Her smile drops and she heads to her room, taking off her boots along the way. She sets her backpack and boots down the flops onto her bed, she looks up at the ceiling, wonders what she should do until it’s time for her to sleep. She pulls out her scroll, hoping to find some entertainment, and notices a text from Neon reading “If you wanna any advice on how to get a date with Atlas boy, text me 😸🌈😉.” She goes red at the memory of teasing she received early and responds with a simple “No thank you.” She decides to go on her Individeo, a video, and streaming platform, app to watch some videos. She pulls up a video on making your own custom guns, she had seen the tile and saved it for another time days ago. As she watches she remembers that she saved this specific video to show her dad because she thought some of the ideas for the weapons could be used to improve some of their own guns. This realization weights on her as all the ideas and facts she wanted to discuss with her dad float around with nowhere to go. Speaking of her dad he wanted her to eat whiles he’s gone.

Now Penny could survive solely off of electricity but thanks to her biofuel converter and new nervous system she could enjoy food and turn it into fuel, making her more eco-friendly. She closes the video app and searches her memory bank for phone numbers for local restaurants that delivered. She forms a long list of options but as she has limited funds and would hate to inconvenience anyone Penny starts disqualifying the higher prices and further away eateries. Soon she narrows it down to a list of three options, a pizza place, a burger place, Ms. Ling’s. From there she evaluates them base on quality, quantity, and service rates. In the end logic and curiosity wins out as Penny picks out the one she never had before, pizza. She calls in for one medium-sized cheese pizza, just to test out the taste, and is told it will take 45 minutes to deliver. She takes this time to wash up and change into her pajamas. When the food does arrive she goes downstairs, pays, and takes her pizza. She sits the box on the table, opens it, and takes out a slice. Penny takes a bite and it’s greasy in a good way, the cheese is nice and stretchy, the tomatoes sauce compliments the cheese, and the crust has a pleasant crunch. But it just doesn’t feel tasty, it tastes good but for some reason, it just doesn't feel the way to supposed to. Penny eats two more slices then puts the rest away in the refrigerator. She goes back upstairs, brushes her teeth, plugs up, and heads to bed early.

She closes her eyes hoping to see her dad’s smiling face when she wakes again.

[if-you-built-yourself-a-myth]

2/6/9 - Sobbe 🧡🧡🥰

There might be a part two of this, if I can get my act together.

2- Hogwarts!au ~ 6-fake dating ~ 9- "why are you awake so late?"

Special thanks to @gukyi 's prompt list

Requests are open!

Robbe found himself in the astronomy tower that night, not because he had any prefect duties there, but because he liked the view. The Great Lake was a giant mirror in the darkness. Where he lived during the summer, streetlights always washed out the stars. He should probably get on patrol and do some actual work before someone came around and sent him back there.

He climbed up onto the window ledge, carefully placing his feet to avoid falling out. The astronomy tower offered the best views because there was no glass to look through. That, and the height. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw something streak through the open air. Might be a shooting star. Robbe braced his hands on the windowsill and craned his neck out.

Nothing. Of course it was nothing. He sat back into the shadows.

A cloaking charm was in order, for the sake of discretion. He wouldn’t want to draw any of the other prefects up to his safe place. Especially not Noor. Most prefects travelled in pairs when they canvased the hallways—Noor tagged along with Britt and Britt’s troublemaker of a boyfriend. When he and Noor were together, it’d been a foursome. Not that they’d been together. His fellow Hufflepuff prefect, Jana, stuck to him like glue after her breakup went a little sour. Tonight, he’d ditched her outside the Great Hall.

Something much bigger flashed past, temporarily blocking the light of the moon. Not bigger—closer.

“Shit!”

Okay, that was definitely something.

Robbe looked out the window again, his eyes strained. Nothing out here was lit properly, save for the Lake, which had mother nature doing all the work. He could use Lumos to give a little bit of light, except it would give away his location to anyone outside. Hogwarts retained the same peaceful stillness as ever. Not a ripple on the surface of the water.

Something hit the castle wall, so close to Robbe that he almost fell backward off the ledge in surprise.

“Come on... turn on...”

Robbe considered announcing his presence. Whatever this person was doing, they probably shouldn’t be doing it. Heights like this meant broomsticks, broomsticks right here meant prohibited behavior, prohibited behavior this late meant hefty punishment. It was his moral responsibility as prefect to stop it.

Not that he really cared much for his moral responsibility as a prefect.

He clenched his hand around his wand. “Hello?”

Soft music wafting down from above, muffled as if someone was playing it too loudly through headphones. Whoever it was, they seemed to be circling the tip of the tower, around ten feet over his head.

“Hello?” he tried again. “No students should be out of bed right now.” Which, of course, they knew. But it brought the situation under his control.

The music got a little bit louder. Robbe heard heavy footfalls on the slanted roof, maybe heavy enough to jar the shingles from their careful positions. Might as well introduce himself. He put on his prefect face, the no-nonsense pantomime of confidence that he gave to pretty much everybody around Hogwarts, and jumped down from the windowsill like a good narc would. Detention for all.

“Hey!” he called at the ceiling. “Come down.”

No answer. The music got louder. Robbe didn’t recognize the song, nor could he hear the lyrics very well. Something slow about a guy named Tom and a planet.

He cupped his hands around his mouth. “I’m a prefect. This is against the rules!” Fuck, Jens and Moyo would make fun of him for ages if they heard him say that. Robbe tried not to cringe at his own behavior. “Turn down your fucking music.” Except, all the f-bomb did was make him sound more childish. He wasn’t exactly flourishing in this role.

Whoever was up there cranked the music to full blast. Enough to wake up the whole campus. Footsteps sounded on the roof again, and a boy slid in through the window, his robes ruffled and dirty, his short, bleach-blond hair sticking straight up with electricity. He brought along with him a strange orb of light balanced in his hand, enough make out his face and to see his green and silver tie was woefully tied. It was Britt’s boyfriend. That much was clear from the attractive cut of his jaw—no, not attractive—never mind. Shit, what was his name? He left his broom on the sill and jumped down to Robbe with unparalleled grace. When his feet hit the flooring, the smack echoed all the way down the tower.

“Long time no see. Did Britt send you?” he asked Robbe. No one anywhere near the spiral staircase could miss it.

“Students aren’t allowed to be out of bed.” Robbe lifted his head, hoped it emanated authority when he spoke. “I’m sure you know that—”

“Tell her I don’t want to talk to her.”

“You’re not supposed to be—”

“It’s over. Finite. Done. Fuck.” He spun in a circle and said, “Britt, wherever you are, it’s over.”

Sander! That was his name. Sometimes, when Robbe went out with Noor, Sander and Britt came along. The foursome. And maybe, sometimes, Robbe would watch him across the table instead of Noor when they were drinking, resting his head on his arms. Sander tended to end up in detentions, though, and there were only so many trips to Hogsmede per semester. Robbe didn’t spend a lot of time in the Slytherin dungeons. Not enough to see Sander around. You know, nothing that meant anything.

The prefects, of course, heard all about Sander, because Britt was Head Girl. He managed to push rules in ways that Jens, Robbe, and Moyo never could.

Everyone in the nearby dormitories must have been awake by now.

Robbe kept his cool, improvised. “Why are you up so late?” A little confidence went a long way when it came to laying down the law.

“Avoiding her. Tell her that.”

“It’s not allowed. It’s going to be twenty points from Slytherin. And detention.”

Sander crossed his arms over his chest. The top three buttons on his shirt were one hole off, as if he’d dressed in a hurry. The sleeve of his robe was torn. “Tell Britt I don’t care.”

“I’m not with Britt,” said Robbe. “I’m a prefect. It’s twenty points.”

“Huh.”

A gust through the window dropped the temperature at least five degrees within the tower. Something blew from the roof and fluttered to the ground far below—a blanket, maybe? The wind joined with the music for an awfully melancholy wake-up call. The students would be pissed.

“Turn off the music.” Robbe gestured to the ceiling. “You can have your breakup drama during hours when people are awake.”

Sander waved a dismissive hand. “It has boundaries already. You can’t hear it outside of the bubble I made. You’re not with Britt? Thought Noor might have—”

“No. How big’s the bubble?”

“The tower. Plus a few feet, I guess.”

“It’s still detention.”

Sander took a few steps toward Robbe, appraising him like a piece of artwork in a museum. His gaze, or the windchill, gave Robbe goosebumps. He remembered staring at Sander’s hands, wrapped around a butterbeer glass, while the girls gossiped into their chips on a weekend. The casual air of the unattainable. But that didn’t mean anything.

If the punishment was secure, there shouldn’t be anything wrong with asking questions. “What—um—what happened with Britt?”

“Same thing that always does. I don’t know why I bother.” Sander flicked his wand behind his back, and the music got even louder. Now the lyrics were clearer: this is ground control to major Tom— “Head girl. You’d know.”

“You guys were pretty happy last time I saw you.”

“Always pretty happy until we’re not.”

Robbe laughed. “Yeah, I think that’s how happiness works. I liked Noor alright until I didn’t.” He covered his ears. “Would you turn that shit down? It’s awful.”

“Nah,” said Sander. “Good music. Britt keeps making a big deal when I play it in the common room.” He hesitated. “You know that. You and Noor, like a month ago? Pretty sure she chewed me out in front of you guys at the Three Broomsticks.” A pause. “Yes, definitely. You had on your Quidditch stuff that day; I remember.” He carded a hand through his hair, so Robbe could see the dark brown roots coming in underneath the bleach blond. Hair like that glowed in the dark. No wonder it had been so easy to see when Sander flew by earlier.

The day in question was a bit of a blur for Robbe.

“Britt loves doing shit like that,” Sander continued. “What happened with Noor?”

It was long past time to send Sander away. Something pushed Robbe to reassure Sander of something instead—of what, he wasn’t quite sure. “Noor and I were never together.” Maybe it was the fact that, from this distance, he could see that Sander’s eyes were the same color as the star reflections across the lake. He’d always assumed they were black. “You’re mad because Britt chews you out? You kind of deserve—”

“Mm, more treats me like a kid, y’know?”

Their faces were awfully close together now.

It was nothing.

Robbe wondered why his pulse was speeding up. He wondered if Sander could hear it. But then—any moment like this one, alone in a tower with someone beautiful, would be enough to make one’s heart work overtime.

Not that Robbe found Sander beautiful.

Why did Sander know what sweater he was wearing on a date, when Robbe had blocked out Sander’s name?

“And you come up here to ignore her?” Robbe asked, because if he didn’t, he didn’t know where his mind would go. And that wasn’t cool. Sander held the light orb beneath their chins, illuminating their faces in the dark. His breath ghosted across Robbe’s skin when he scoffed.

“Yeah, but I mean…”

Angry voices sounded from the staircase. More than one. Robbe’s ability to hear them at all over the music was a bad sign. Was the air thinner up here? Robbe froze in place, leaned a little bit back for a clear view of Sander’s face.

Sander jerked away. They rose in volume by the minute, climbing upward, getting closer. “That’s her. I know what she sounds like.”

“If it’s her, it’s Noor.”

“What’s upsetting about Noor? Thought you two liked each other.”

“I did like her.” And it was true, in one way or another. He did. Just… not enough. Not as much as everyone else thought he should. Tonight especially, when all he wanted was to see the stars over the lake, he did not want to deal with her chit chat. Or the way she looked at him when she thought they were going to kiss. No thank you. Not up his alley. “She’s a little—she wants to—You’re still getting detention for this. I thought there was a bubble!”

Britt and Noor probably heard the music. Robbe’s cloaking charm from earlier might prevent him from being seen, but it only did its job for viewers standing five feet away or more. Further would be more advanced magic. He wasn’t an Auror, after all.

The voices only got closer.

“Shit,” said Robbe. He considered climbing out onto Sander’s rooftop perch, although if Sander thought Britt had found him earlier, that was something she already knew about.

“Sander?” came a voice from the stairwell. Fears confirmed.

There were several ways Robbe could take control of this situation. Number one: he could wait and get Sander in trouble as intended, even if it meant having to walk to the Hufflepuff common room with Noor trailing along behind. He’d never hear the end of it. Two: he could make a break for it with the cloaking spell and pretend he’d never visited the tower at all. A stronger option. Too bad Sander would snitch on him instantly. Three: he could somehow get Sander out of it with him, which didn’t seem fair.

“Noor’s all over you?” Sander rubbed his palms against his battered robes. He chewed on the edge of his lip. “Tough for you.”

“Not tough, I mean, I wouldn’t say—”

“Okay, I have a quid pro quo plan.”

“I don’t trust you.”

“Go along with me here.” Sander lay a hand on Robbe’s shoulder, and it became terribly obvious that Sander was a good four inches taller. They didn’t have much time before the girls would arrive. “On the fly, but y’know. I’m good. It will work. Women… they fume, but they let it go. You know?”

“I don’t know.”

“All the way or no way.”

I don’t know what that means.”

Sander gave a devilish smile. “Double whammy. Britt and Noor."

Screw it. Robbe didn’t want to talk to Noor. He wanted her off his back and he wanted the boys to stop talking about her when he was around. “All the way?”

Then it happened.

The door to the tower’s zenith flew open. Sander took Robbe by the back of the neck, the communication passing between them in an instant. Sander paused less than a breath away from Robbe’s lips, giving him time to stop it if he wanted to. Then they were kissing, Sander’s hands in Robbe’s hair, Robbe’s in the air like a surrender. Sander backed him up against the stone wall, pinned his arms up on either side, and closed his own eyes as Britt’s wand threw them both into something sickeningly close to daylight.

It wasn’t Robbe’s first kiss. He wasn’t a fan of kissing.

All in all though, pretty solid.

Sander’s tongue tasted like chocolate. Might have liked it a little.

Might have thought about watching Sander across the table in a bar, something jealous and acrid burning in the bottom of his throat when Sander kissed Britt.

Not a lot. Not enough to mean anything.

“What the hell are you doing?” Britt planted her hands on her hips, her appearance sour. Her hair stuck out in a dozen different directions as if it had been hexed to float as such. From the disheveled state of her robes, Robbe could guess that her night had been far more difficult than his. His pulse hammered at heart attack speeds in his chest. Was this what dying felt like? Why were his hands tingling?

Wasn’t that great of a kiss.

Okay, but not like… not like Noor kissed him.

Nothing like that.

“Ow, my eyes,” said Sander, breathless. “Privacy.”

He went back in for the second kiss, and Robbe let him. Just let him. Fucking hell. More short and sweet than the last. Robbe’s hands shook, his whole body shook. All the blood in his veins pumped straight into his head. He wasn’t allowed to want something like this.

Noor clapped a hand over her mouth.

“Sander,” Britt repeated. “What the fuck?”

“We’re—” said Robbe. “It’s not—”

Sander, however, was faster. “You’ve brought your boyfriend here before.”

Both Noor and Britt were incredulous. “What?”

Sander owned the situation. That was Robbe’s job. “I’m allowed to do it, too,” Sander said. “Bring my boyfriend.” His eyes met Robbe’s. This is the plan, go along with it.

Robbe went red. Now that he could see Sander completely in the light from Britt’s wand, he could tell how realistic this ploy was. Sander’s shirt, the buttons! Streaks of dust stained the white material brown, the kind of dirt one might find caked to the walls of this very tower. Whatever he’d been doing earlier, it wasn’t much of a stretch to imply he’d been making out with Robbe instead. Oh fuck no. Robbe didn’t sign up for something like this.

“You’re not—he’s not—” Noor fumbled with her words. “This—”

Sander smiled. He looped his arm around Robbe’s shoulders. “Recent thing.”

Robbe felt like he was about to be sick. No, seriously. Like he was about to drop dead on the cobblestone flooring of the astronomy tower. What would the boys say about something like this? Jens would be okay, maybe, and Aaron would be insensitive but supportive. Moyo… that was a wildcard. Robbe would need to book it back to the dormitories to get ahead of the rumor before it spread too far. This couldn’t be happening.

He tried to take deep, grounding breaths. Sander’s skin on his neck did not help.

He did not like the kiss.

He did not like that kiss.

“It’s actually kind of late,” Sander continued. “We should really be heading to bed. Accio player.” A CD compact flew down through the window and into his open palm. So that was what made the music? A tiny enchanted compact? He slid it into the pocket of his robes and the music cut off.

Noor nodded, bewildered. She put a hand on Britt’s arm. “Um, well… patrol’s all done. Might as well. Sorry to… uh, sorry to bother you.”

“You’re not together,” said Britt, like she hadn’t heard. “You’re doing this to get back at me, and the stupid music—”

Robbe wasn’t buzzing from a kiss. He wasn’t shaking from a kiss. This was something Sander did to get Britt off his back for a night, nothing to worry about, nothing that would continue.

Noor was a better kisser. She used less tongue and didn’t taste like marinara.

Robbe was always a fan of marinara.

“Recent thing,” he echoed.

A watch on Sander’s wrist beeped twelve-thirty. Outside the astronomy tower window, the Great Lake reflected the night sky with seamless synchronicity. Wouldn’t the boys just love to hear about this? Wouldn’t they just love—Robbe took one more fleeting glance outside, a castle bathed in the moonlight. He needed to get out of here. He needed to run. This was an arrangement to get Noor off his back.

“I’ll walk you to the common room,” Sander said, casting lumos. He brushed past the girls, took them down the spiral staircase, grabbed Robbe by both shoulders. “Cool, quid pro quo. It’s taken care of. No detention?”

How Robbe mustered the strength to speak, he’d never know. “This is just a bigger mess. Still detention.”

Sander squeezed Robbe’s hand. “Yeah, but so much more fun. I’ll see you tomorrow, then.” He took the path to the left to the dungeons.

Robbe sprinted the rest of the way to his bed, breezing by Jens, Jana, Moyo, and Aaron’s little huddle in the common room. Straight beneath the covers. The curtains pulled. He swore he could hear Sander’s music from half a castle away. No way could he wake up tomorrow and face the implications of tonight. No way. The door to the dormitory opened again, closed quietly behind. It was Jens. it had to be Jens.

“What shit are we into this time?” came Jens’ familiar tone.

Robbe choked on the sentence as he spit it out. “I think I’m dating someone.”

[fanficimagery]

Because We Got High.

Relationship: Billy & Reader Warnings: Drug use (it’s just weed) & language. Words: 1,820  Tags: Fluff & humor.

Billy's been driving around for the last twenty minutes, music blaring and smoking cigarette after cigarette as he looks for Max. She was meant to be at one of her friends' houses, but the little shits apparently jumped from house to house without telling anyone. Everyone was meant to be at the Wheeler's- and boy was that fun having to see Karen Wheeler answer the door side-by-side with her husband, squirming and with pleading eyes to not utter a word of their previous flirtations- but the kids weren't there. So Billy drove to the Byers', and again no luck.

The Sinclair household only had one mouthy little girl that Billy briefly found amusing, and it was she who directed him to the Henderson's.

"Just walk right in," the little girl Erica had told him. "My brother and his friends will most likely ignore the doorbell and Ms. Henderson likes to chase her evening pills with alcohol."

"For being a kid, you know an awful lot about what Ms. Henderson does at night."

"I'm thirteen, you mullet wearing bastard." She had sassed him- actually sassed him before slamming the door in his face and all Billy could do was laugh about it.

The kid had fire and he liked it. It was rather refreshing.

Then having gotten back in his car, he memorized the directions to the Henderson household that Erica had given him and drove.

Pulling up outside the Henderson house, Billy stubs out his cigarette in the ashtray before cutting the engine and climbing out. The lights are all on inside, so he wastes no time stomping up to the front door and ringing the bell.

No answer.

He tries the door knob and it's locked.

"For fucks sake," Billy grumbles, growing agitated.

He then decides to pound on the door with a closed fist, but again there's no answer. There's a TV blaring somewhere inside, but he rather not start peeking through windows and risk the neighbors calling the cops on him. Instead he stomps around to the back of the house and is intent on pounding on the back door, yelling until someone answers him. But the moment he steps foot in the backyard, a strong familiar scent hits him full force and he stumbles to a stop before looking for the source.

Dusty and all his little friends had decided to come over and you knew there'd be no peace in order for you to watch a couple of movies as you had planned. They'd all congregated into Dustin's room which was just right next to yours and immediately they were a loud mess. So after making sure your mother was nice and tuckered out downstairs in front of the TV, you went back into your room and into your closet.

At the very top, very back of your closet was your secret stash of weed that was only smoked in emergency situations. And this? This was an emergency of boredom that you needed to quell right away.

So after making sure you had everything in your box, you tuck it under your arm and go back downstairs to exit the back door. In your backyard is the only thing left that reminds everyone of your fathers presence before he split- a large treehouse in the sturdiest tree that Dustin and his friends usually chilled out in when they weren't inside.

There's an actual staircase that wraps around the tree and you climb them all the way up to the house itself. Then plopping down in one of the bean bags, you set the box in your lap, open it up, and smile as you stare down at its contents.

After rolling a blunt and lighting up, you take a deep drag and let the smoke settle in your lungs before blowing it out. Drag after drag, your body starts to loosen up and you quickly find yourself sprawled on the floor of the treehouse.

You have more than enough weed for another blunt and you lazily start to roll another one.

Before you can light up, however, a voice stalls you.

"You do know the entire back yard smells like weed, right? You looking to be busted?"

Rolling over, you belly crawl to the door and look down. Standing in your backyard, looking far too handsome for his own good, is none other than Billy Hargrove. "You gonna be a narc, Hargrove?"

He walks over to the bottom of the stairs, eyes narrowing suspiciously. "Do I know you?"

"Nah. We don't have classes together, but you made an impression on all the little sheep at school. Name's Y/N. I'm Dustin's sister."

"Hmm." He glances at the house once more. "So can I just walk in and grab Max or..?"

"They got a D&D session going on, so good luck, man."

Billy huffs and turns around, stomping up to the back door and entering your house. You watch, lighting up your second blunt of the night and wait. A handful of minutes pass before Billy exits alone, looking a little more agitated than he had moments before.

Chuckling softly, you hold out the blunt so he can see the embers burning bright in the night. "Need a little relaxation while you wait? Come on up, Hargrove. I don't bite." Billy sighs but makes his way towards the stairs nonetheless. Laughing as he ducks to enter through the door, you roll onto your back and hold out the blunt towards him. "Welcome to Stoners Anonymous. I'm Y/N and I'll be your host this evening."

Billy's agitation is quickly wiped away and a smile takes place of his scowl. He takes the offered blunt and holds it to his lips, taking a long drag as he lets his head fall back and eyes close in pure bliss. Blowing out the smoke, he then takes a seat. "That's good. Who's your dealer?"

"A good customer never reveals her sources until at least the third smoking party."

"Whatever you say." He takes another hit, letting his gaze wander around the spacious treehouse. "You know, a good host usually has snacks for when the munchies hit."

On cue, your stomach rumbles and Billy chuckles as you groan. Cursing quietly, you sit up and crawl over to a stack of crates that act as a stand of cubbies. Pulling out a walkie talkie, you turn it on and hold down the button. "Calling all nerds. Calling all nerds. Take a break from D&D and bring me some noms. Over."

Billy grins, passing the blunt back to you. You take a drag as the walkie in hand crackles to life. "Are you high? Over." Someone giggles before it cuts out.

"As a kite. Now bring me some noms. Enough for two. Over."

"Two? How much did you smoke?!"

"Don't question me, Dusty, or I'm telling mom what really happened to Mews."

The walkie goes quiet, so Billy asks, "Mews?"

"Mhm," You distractedly nod. "Mom's cat that she fucking adored more than her own kids. My idiot brother brought home something feral and it ate Mews. We had to tell her, her beloved cat ran away."

"That's wild."

"Alright. What do you want? Over."

You first pump victoriously. "Pizza rolls."

Billy's nose wrinkles. "Screw that. You got cash? We'll drive and pick up burgers."

Your eyes widen as you beam at him. "You're my new favorite person! Here. Finish it," you tell him while passing the blunt back to him. "I'll go get some cash and shoes, and meet you out front."

Tossing the walkie aside, you watch as Billy picks it up to speak into it. "Cancel the rolls. Y/N and I are driving for food instead."

"Billy?!"

He smirks. "Hello, Maxine. Since you and your nerds are taking forever, I'm taking Y/N for food."

A bunch of rambling comes over the walkie and he clicks it off, tossing it on one of the bean bags. Then with the blunt between his lips, he exits the treehouse and saunters down the stairs.

By the time Billy makes it around front, you're standing rather impatiently in the middle of the sidewalk. All the kids are on the front stoop, glancing between you and him.

"So you two are friends?" Dustin asks. "Since when? You don't socialize, Y/N."

"Whatever. We officially met tonight. Shared a blunt and now we're the best of friends!"

"The best," he leers, coming up beside you and throwing an arm around your shoulders.

All the boys grimace.

"I don't like it." Dustin grumbles.

"Too bad. I didn't like Mike when he first came around."

"Hey!"

"No offense, Wheeler," you quickly amend. "And now look. I adore all you fuckin' gremlins, but that's about to change if you don't let me leave and get a burger."

"Fine!"

"Fine! Let's go, Hargrove."

Billy flicks the remainder of the blunt to the ground, smirking as he turns and leads you to his car. You readily open the passenger door and climb on in, waving at your brother and his friends who suspiciously keep watch of Billy. After settling in and Billy settling in as well, his engine roars to life and you laugh as AC/DC immediately blares at you.

He peels out in front of your house and you hang your right arm out the window to feel the wind rushing against it.

"Come on, Billy. Show me what your baby's got."

Glancing at you, Billy slowly smirks. He turns down one of the back roads, pressing harder on the gas and picking up speed. You laugh, leaning your head towards the opened window and letting your hair whip every which way. "Whoooo!" You scream.

As you settle back into your seat, your bright eyes land on Billy as he splits his attention between you and the road. "Where the hell have you been since I've been in Hawkins, Henderson?"

You waggle your eyebrows. "If you'd stop bullying Harrington, hot shot, you'd find me napping somewhere in the room."

He huffs. "Don't tell me you're fond of boy wonder?"

"Eh. Steve's decent." Billy scoffs. "No, I'm serious. If you boys would get over your egos or whatever shit is keeping you from actually being cool with each other, you'd see Steve is a hell of a lot more tolerable than Tommy. Because seriously, gross. You can do a lot better than Tommy, my dude."

"You talk a lot. I'm honestly surprised I've never met you before."

"Mhm. I think I'm possibly one of the last remaining females who hasn't taken you for a ride."

"Just name the time and place, sweetheart, and we'll rectify that."

"Smooth, Hargrove. Very smooth."

"I try."

"Well try driving faster because I've got a serious case of the munchies and if you don't feed me soon, I'm gonna get cranky."

He chuckles. "Whatever you say, Henderson. Whatever you say."

[twriteskpop]

ADRENALINE (Jungkook AU x OC )

The silence of Delilah's apartment was the welcome letter to the thoughts penetrating her sleepless mind. Between work and the drama she had escaped from not too long ago,  she had plenty to think about.  However,  Delilah was tired of letting the poisonous brain seep into every gyrus her brain had. A year ago she would have just smoked marijuana and used that as a sort of pest control for trauma. She'd given that up after she moved back to Florida,  calling it a cleansing.  392 days of the protruding thoughts finally caught up to her. Tempted by her neighbors that she grew close to,  she held strong.  They had offered her the green substance many times considering they were never sober,  except in slumber.  The neighbors reminded Delilah of Dank and Dabby from the Netflix series Disjointed. They were always high on marijuana, were comical,  but had hearts of gold. They lived in the apartment beside her and were friendly with her from the day she moved in, 392 days before.

Delilah was strong, but even Superman had his weakness. Superman had kryptonite,  Delilah had her thoughts. She needed them to go away even for a brief period of time.  

Delilah pushed the salad bowl off of her lap and onto the coffee table. She picked up her phone and began texting her neighbors. Instantly,  she got a response. Bennet and Clarissa were two kind hearted people who became two of the only people Delilah could call friends and they were well aware of this,  so they kept an eye out for her. This included always being available to talk.  

It was no shock to Delilah as her phone buzzed and Clarissas name popped up on her screen.  She clicked open her phone and read the grey bubble: Hey D!  Btw, our dog climb over to ur balcony again? Delilah pushed herself off of the couch and walked over to her sliding glass door.  For what seemed to be the tenth time this month,  the golden Retriever had been laying on her empty balcony,  enjoying the cool weather. The balconies were connected by one wall that was waist high for a 5'3 person.  It may have not been the best architecture but she didn't expect any less for how cheep the rent was. Delilah reached over the wall and knocked on the glass door. Clarissa came walking out eating what looked to be a triple chocolate chip cookie. Delilah smiled at her taller friend and pointed to the ground,  "Tuck likes my balcony more,  apparently." Clarissa finished the last bite of her cookie and asked for Delilah to meet her in the breezeway.  

Delilah beckoned Tuck inside her apartment and out the front door where Clarissa had been waiting.  Tuck sat beside Clarissa as she spoke,  "thanks girl. We have some cookies we made,  some without… you know, we made those ones just for you.  We were going to bring them in the morning but then you texted. Speaking of,  what did you need?" Delilah took a deep breath and smiled up at her neighbor,  she must have just retouched her bright red hair because it looked more like a fire truck on this day,  than ever before.  "I would actually like one of the special cookies.  And a number… to your supplier. If that's okay?" Clarissa flicked a brow up at her in suspicion.

"You a narc now?" She scrunched her perfectly arched brows. Delilah shook her head,  letting out a slight chuckle,  "I'm starting to forget why I quit in the first place." Clarissa frowned and pulled out her phone. She typed frantically and Delilah felt a buzz in her pocket.  "Thanks," Delilah smiled. Clarissa went inside her own apartment and put the dog inside,  returning soon after with a Tupperware bowl of cookies.

"The wrapped ones are the special. We were about to start a movie if you wanted to come over?" Clarissa informed,  leaving her apartment door open just enough for them to enter.  However,  Delilah was exhausted and had an opening shift at the diner so she politely declined. She walked back into her apartment,  placing the cookies on the counter,  unwrapping the marijuana one and went to lay down.  The cookies smelled rich of cocoa and were soft at the first bite. She could hardly taste the thc,  which means it was very well made,  and with every bite she felt like her tongue was sitting in a bath of chocolate.  It was heaven.

Clarissa and Bennet were Delilahs first friends when she moved back,  and became like family over the year.  They hung out multiple times a week and always did favors for each other.  She knew she could pay for the cookies in dog sitting later.  

It took twenty minutes of mindless scrolling through Instagram for the thc to kick in and slowly,  and quietly,  she fell asleep.

For the first time in months,  Delilah woke up to the sound of her bird song alarm without wanting to throw her phone through the glass window. She woke up refreshed.  She sat up from her bed,  walked over to her shower and began getting ready for the day.  She works in a 50's style diner with a perverted boss named Tim,  so her uniform was a short poodle skirted dress,  50's style shoes,  and hair in a high pony with a matching bow. It was a cute uniform,  but the sexual harassment that came as an accessory was not.

She got into her yellow '67 Volkswagen Beatle and drove the thirty minutes to work, without the touch of dread she normally had about going to work at six in the morning.  

The roads were empty,  and so was the parking lot.  Only three cars were in the employee spots,  including hers.  She felt some relief that the chef was beside the owners car,  this would mean Tim wouldn't be able to harass her too much this morning.

She walked into the checkered, from wall to floor, diner.  She was greeted by the familiar smell of coffee,  maple bacon,  and sweet pancakes. She punched in her ID number on the tablet in the back,  then made her way to the front of the kitchen,  tying her apron around her waist.  She knew Tony was going to be in his usual spot at the grill,  working on making plates for the staff before opening at 6:30.  Tony was a tall,  buff,  Italian man who had a thick new york-italian accent. His hair was gelled back and he fit every stereotype anyone could think of when it comes to an Italian-american, which he would gladly tell anyone.

Tony passed her a plate,  smiling per usual. "You have so much energy in the morning.  I'm envious," Delilah smiled,  pulling a fork from the tray. She bit into a dry pancake,  savoring the natural sweetness. She then moved on to a slice of bacon before hitting start on the coffee machines. Tony glanced at her with a side-eye,  "someone's actually eating the food I make for her?  Is the world ending?  I better tell ma!" Delilah poured herself a cup of coffee and lifted a brow at him,  "Tony,  I eat." He chuckled,  shaking his head while flipping the linked sausage,  "I have known you for… what?  A year now?  You take baby bites of everything and say you're full. Ma says you're tryna be skinny when I tell her all about it.  It hurts my feelings you know?  You're a beautiful lady!  Thin as a twig I'd say-" He was rambling,  but cut off by Tim walking through the swinging black kitchen doors. "Open in five," The blonde,  heavyset man in his late 30's smiled at the sight of Delilah,  "hey hot stuff. Mrs. Marigold is already at her table. Coffee." Delilah brushed off the comment and poured the sweet grey haired woman a cup of coffee.  She was a regular,  so Delilah knew she would want exactly three spoons of sugar and a splash of sweet cream.

The hours of the morning shift had passed and Delilah was soon to be off work.  Tim was full of inappropriate remarks and gropings per usual,  making this day just like any other.  When she got off work,  she climbed into her Volkswagen and pulled out her phone. She opened the message from Clarissa the night before.

Delilah hesitated as she copied and pasted the number into her text message bar. Being medicated last night made sleeping easier,  and even boosted her mood this morning but it made her feel numb. Being numb had it's ups but it caused a lot of downs prior to her decision to quit.  Sure marijuana stopped her from thinking and it wasn't a heavy drug so she could still have mild thoughts,  but some things she should have thought about,  she impulsively did because she was high. However,  smoking was more responsible than drinking because she was able to think and could remember everything. She hasn't ever been a real drinker,  but people close to her were and she would tell you that she's seen people worse off drunk,  than high.

After ten minutes had passed of just staring at the screen,  she began typing the number,  making her final decision.

Hello,  I got your number from Clarissa S. Can you meet today?  

Her engine roared to life and she shifted her gear into drive. The radio was softly playing today's pop hits from Spotify linked to her phones Bluetooth. The Orlando afternoon traffic was irritating to most people,  but she had no where to be except home.  So as she drove,  weaving in and out of lanes,  letting tourists with out of state plates pass her at any opportunity,  she began to think of the bad decisions she made by simply being high.  Numb to dumb,  as she called it several times.  She had never done anything criminal,  but definitely ended up in several dangerous situations. It was not enough to get her to change her mind now.  She enjoyed the sleep she got and Tim's harassment had not bothered her too much today,  all because of the sleep last night.  It was a butterfly effect she wanted to feel again.  

As she pulled into the parking lot of her apartment complex, she heard the phone ping in the passenger seat. She parked in her usual spot, next to the stairs of her building, and reached to read the notification.

I can meet in 15 min at Bill Fredrick park. Text me when you get there. First time meetings are in public. See you then. JK

------------------- A/N I'm so happy to be back.  I've been writing on a different account and I've definitely improved.  😌 PLEASE Leave feedback if you want! I love tips too!  I have big plans for this.  

-T

[may85]

Summary: Christmas Prompt 29. "Who ate all the cookies?"

Pairing: Jim Hopper x Reader

TV Show: Stranger Things

Word Count: 1248

Warnings: None! Just some good ol' fluffy goodness!

"So you take the scrapper here and move it along the sides of the bowl," I instructed El, watching her closely.

"Like this?" She asked, gently turning the bowl and doing just as I said.

I smiled and nodded my head, "Yes Ma'am,"

A big snow storm had hit Hawkins and I couldn't think of a better way to spend time cooped up in the cabin than with teaching El how to make cookies.

Jim was out on call and I was worried about him. 

"He'll be home," Jane said, stirring the cookie dough one last time.

I smiled at her and checked her work, "You know, I think you might be better at this than me,"

Jane blushed, handing me the small ice cream scoop, "Would you ever let me work at the bakery?"

"Of course I would! You're a natural."

We finished filling up the four cookie sheets that I had laid out. I watched Jane carefully as she opened the preheated oven, which caused her to blink rapidly at the burst of heat coming out, then she slid the cookie sheet in.

"Awesome! Now we wait thirteen minutes,"

"Can I go call Mike?" She asked, washing her hands.

Once she shut the water off, I threw her the hand towel and tilted my head towards her room, "Go on, but once your Dad gets home, it'll be time for dinner,"

El smiled and skipped off to talk to her boyfriend.

I kept up with the cookies, putting them on the rack to cool before transferring them to a plate. Soon I was able to start dinner, but I was getting more worried because Jim had yet to return home.

I decided to make Chili and Cornbread. It was when I put the cornbread in the oven did the door swing open and a frigid burst of air blow into the cabin.

"Son of a bitch!" Jim fussed, knocking his boots off on the door jam.

He looked up at me and smiled, which in turn made me shiver.

"Thank God you're okay!" I said, staying by the warm oven.

Jim took his jacket off and hung it up, placing his hat on the top if the coat rack. He rubbed his hands together as he came into the kitchen.

"It smells incredible in here," he complimented.

"Just trying to kill some time and show Jane how to bake something simple," 

Jim wrapped his cold arms around me and shivered again. I moved my hands up and down his arms, trying to get some warmth into him.

I watched as he sniffed the air again and his eyes widened when he spotted the two plates of cookies.

"No you didn't," he gasped.

Chocolate chip and Snickerdoodles were Jim's favorites. I giggled at him, "I did,"

"Can I have one now?" He asked, his hands sneaking under the back of my sweater.

I squealed at his ice cold fingers and tried to jump away from him, but his grip was ironclad, "Fine, fine, fine!"

He chuckled, leaning down and giving me a slow kiss. I gave a soft groan when his cold lips touched mine and after a few moments of us standing there, trying to warm him up, he gave me one last peck and grinned at me, "Hey Darlin',"

"Sup, Chief?" I kissed the corner of his mouth, wrapping my arms around his neck while standing on my tiptoes.

Just when I thought I'd get some more kisses from him, I felt his hand leave my back and reach for the cookies.

I clicked my tongue at him and shook my head, "Just as I thought… only after my cookies,"

He chuckled, biting his bottom lip as he squeezed my ass, "Maybe,"

I gently pushed him away, "Ass,"

Jim took two cookies, one of each and began munching on them as he walked to the bedroom to change his clothes.

"Gah, I knew I loved you for a reason!" He moaned, his speech muffled by the cookies.

I shook my head and fixed him a bowl of dinner while he got comfortable.

Later on that night, long after the extras were put in the fridge and the dishes were done, Jim had cuddled up to me on the couch as we watched television.

Jane had gone back to her room to chat with the party over the phone and walkies, but the talking had been reduced to just a few words as the gang was getting sleepy.

I yawned, earning a squeeze and a kiss to the neck from Jim, who was laying behind me. 

"Is it just me, or did it seem to get even colder?" I asked, shivering.

Jim reached on the top of the couch and pulled the blanket over the both of us. I turned over, facing him.

He smiled sleepily at me, running a hand through my hair and gently over my cheek, "Ready for bed?" 

Kissing him with my answer, I gave a soft, "Uh hu,"

Jim's mustache tickled my upper lip, making me have to break the kiss before I started laughing uncontrollably.

"Night, Sweetheart," his voice rumbled as he rubbed my back with soothing circles.

I hummed happily and closed my eyes as I breathed in his scent.

I don't know how long I'd been asleep, but I'd woken to the room only being lit by Christmas tree lights blinking in different successions.

Jim was not on the couch. Thinking he must've gone to bed, I went to the kitchen to get something to drink.

I took a sip of water and looked over to find an empty plate from the cookies and one missing.

"Who ate all the cookies?!" I said, out loud.

"Shit, shit, shit, shit!"

A thud sounded from inside of El's room and that's when I noticed her light on. I put my glass down and marched over there, pushing the door open.

There I found Jim and El on her bed acting nonchalant.

"What's going on?" I asked, folding my arms.

Jim was leaning back on an arm, his leg crossed as he tried to play off of getting busted, "Nothin',"

"Did you eat all the cookies?"

Jane shook her head, eyes wide.

I went to her side table and picked up the white jug, "Then what's the milk doing in here?"

"Milk helps to get you to sleep right, El?" Jim tried. 

And oh boy, was he trying.

I made an obnoxious buzzing noise, "Wrong. It's gotta be warm. Try again Jim Hopper,"

El gasped. She knew when I said his full name that he was in for it.

Almost like a petulant child, Jim rolled his eyes and slapped his hands on his thighs, "Fine we had some cookies,"

"He ate most of them,"

Jim gawked at El while she sold him out.

"Why you little narc!"

"Hey now!" I clapped my hands, rubbed my temples, then checked my watch, "It's like two thirty in the morning. I'm tired, I'm cold and am ready to go to bed. No more cookies Jim or you'll end up with a tummy ache,"

"Night kid," Jim said, kissing Jane's temple.

Jim followed me to bed after putting away the milk.

"I can't believe you ate all those cookies, Hopp,"

He got into bed, flinging the covers over us, "Well, Sweetheart those cookies are dangerous. Hell you're dangerous,"

I pulled on the collar of his shirt and kissed him, "You're damn right I am,"

[ktspree13]

Surf & Turf pt. 2

Warnings: brief mentions of cutting, small allusion to suicide, domestic violence, mention of murder, illness, concussion, mention of pedophilia, underage characters Word Count: 1,486 Summary: AU inspired by commission for @slamncram by @juls-art and a prompt on the thorki discord server. Prompt: slow burn surfer thor au where loki is spending the summer with laufey and his family at like. their summer home.  and they’re pieces of shit yk.  and he just hangs out at the beach all sad and alone and he sees thor, watches him because it’s pretty interesting and thor keeps catching him peeking.  starting up a summer romance and then trying to figure out a way to keep it going past august. ________________________________________________________________

He was sitting on a bench at the boardwalk, staring out at the beach when it happened again.  The mind-numbing pain followed by throwing up the entire contents of his stomach into the trashcan next to him.  Then came the piercing ringing in his ears and a tilt to the world before he curled up on the sand and passed out for a few minutes.  

The first few times it happened, there were people surrounding him, wanting to take him to the hospital, wanting to call the police, but he’d learned how to hide, how to manage.  

That day on the beach, he’d come home with puke on his shirt and Laufey had beat his head in.  When he was almost sent to the hospital the next day, returning to that damn Winnebago empty handed, his father hadn’t been much happier, slamming Loki into the metal shell of the RV, forcing him to sleep outside in the sandy dirt.  Not that he had such great accommodations inside…

It hadn’t been much better the past two weeks.  He walked around in a fog most days, had an episode like this one every so often.  

This time, when he woke up, Thor was sitting on the bench and he thought his life was over.

His stomach lurched again as he coughed bile up, weakly.  He tried to get his body to move, to flee, but he was just so tired and uncoordinated right now.  He’d been too tired to cut, even, since he’d met Thor, and most days that felt like a lifeline.

“Hey, easy.”  Thor had his hands up again, like he was in the wrong here.  Trying to be non-threatening, Loki guessed.  “I really think you need some help, Loki.”

“Mmm fine,” he mumbled.  “Tired.”  Loki coughed, trying to clear the awful taste from his mouth.  He’d gotten some of the bile on his shirt and would probably catch crap again.  “...Dad’s being shirt again.”  He wrinkled his brow.  Something in that sentence wasn’t right, but it hurt to figure out what.

“You aren’t fine,” Thor growled, lowly, like he was mad at him, a stranger, but trying not to be obvious about it.  “I think you might have a concussion.”

Loki laid there at Thor’s feet for a few more minutes.  It was a weird, tense silence.  “What’s it to you?” he asked, wiping his face from the bile and tears.  The headaches got to painful sometimes.  “I stole your wallet.”  He felt like he should point out the obvious.

“I gave it to you,” Thor sighed.  Loki could hear him take a deep breath before letting it out slowly, like he was trying to calm himself down, like Loki’s response made him so upset he had to work to respond.

“I fuckin’ stole it you pussy,” he shot back.  “Just forget my face, Thor.  Forget me.  I’m only supposed to slip in and out of here.  We’re leaving when the tourist season is over.”  He was probably revealing way more than he should.  “Grow a pair and let me go,” he groaned, working to sit up.

The sun was sweltering today.  He should’ve found a drinking fountain awhile ago.  Stolen a few wallets by now.  He shouldn’t be talking with blond surf gods who wanted to help him.  Thor put a bottle of water down in the sand next to him.  It was dripping in sweat, just like he probably should be.

He ignored it for a little while, but the longer Thor sat there, pointedly not leaving, the longer that water sat there crying, wore him down.  His eyes welled up, stinging as he wiped them again, his dirty long sleeve clinging to his scars.  He snatched up the water, struggling with the cap for a moment before he pried it open.

“Just go slow.”

He couldn’t help it.  When the cool liquid hit his tongue, he gulped it down, drinking faster and faster until he could feel it getting torn from his hands.

“Jeezus, Loki!”  Thor held the refreshing elixir out of his reach as he sat there, panting.  “I said go slow, or you’ll throw it all up.”  He watched Thor’s throat bob as he swallowed.  Noted the way he bit his lip staring down at Loki.

“Are you some kind of pedo?” he shot at Thor.  The blond stared back with a look of shock and revulsion on his face.

“Why would you even say that?”

“Because it’s true!  Some 20 year old playing savior to a minor—”  Loki coughed, stomach roiling a little.  Ok, maybe Thor had been right.  “Trying to fuck some tight young ass is more like it.  He steals, he won’t narc.  No one would miss him…”  Loki coughed again, throwing up a little of the water.  Thor was silent.

For a long time neither of them spoke.  But Thor did hand the water back, and Loki drank much slower, moving to sit on the bench, finally, stare out at the ocean again.

“Am I right?”  He was almost afraid of the answer.  He mostly didn’t want it to be yes.  He surprised himself by wishing Thor was actually just a good guy.

“I’m only 17.”

“How much cash you got?”  He took another sip.  “I might let y—”

“You’re sick, Loki.  You need a doctor.  I would never take advantage of you like that.”

He watched as Thor swiped a thumb over his eye.  He felt a little guilty.  He’d actually made the jolly green giant cry.

He leaned his head on Thor’s shoulder, letting himself believe for just a moment that he had a real brother in this world.  Someone to look out for him and take care of him.  A real home.  That he’d just done some kind of suicide jog with Thor and he was resting on the beach with him.

“I’m sorry,” he mumbled, feeling Thor’s arm wrap around him.

“I’ve watched you all summer,” Thor confessed.  “Even when it was hard to find you.”

Loki took another drink, staring out at the water.  It really was a beautiful place.

“You don’t have to go back, you know.  I have a hideout you can stay at.  A buddy of mine built it when we were young.  It’s secluded, fully stocked.  No one would find you if you didn’t want them to.  Or you could come to my place.  My parents would be ok with it.  My mom could take a look at your head.  Or I could take you to the hospital...”

He let Thor talk himself out.  It was a new feeling for him, someone wanting to help and not seeming to want anything in return.  Strange.  The last person to do that was his mother.  And Laufey had beat the hell out of her before she died…  Hence the Winnebago.

“What do you want Thor?” he sighed.  He was just so tired.  And hungry.  He drank more of the water, slowly. “I just want you to be safe, to not have to live like this, to—”

“Why me?  Do you do this for all the street urchins?”

“Well, no—”

“Then why me?  What do you want?”  He sat up, staring over at Thor with a fire in his eyes.  He needed to know.  He needed to know what strings were attached, because he didn’t want the rug pulled out from under him.

“I like you, ok?”  Thor blushed, like he was ashamed of himself.  “Maybe I should pay better attention.  Maybe I should be helping more people like you.  I don’t know.  But I saw you.  And I wanted to help.”  He sat there, like a dejected kid who just learned Santa Claus wasn’t real.  Sad, pathetic, lost.  And Loki had to believe him a little…

He finished the water.  “How much cash do you have?” he asked, still feeling that fog inside his head.  “If you got a few hundred the bastard might not beat me tonight.”

Thor handed over a brand new wallet.  He could tell pretty quickly that there was more than a few hundred inside.  It also contained a key and an address.  Loki wanted to cry in that moment.  He couldn’t go right away.  He still had his things in the Winnebago.  The lone photo album he’d kept hidden all those years.  The only photos he had of his mom, and him.  The few times he was happy.  He didn’t want to leave it behind.  One last night and maybe he’d leave for good.

Thor handed him a bottle of gatorade.  He hated the stuff, but...electrolytes, he guessed.  He sipped on the sugary beverage as Thor handed him a sandwich, too.  “How do you drink this stuff?” he asked, scrunching up his nose in distaste.

“Open cap, pour in mouth, swallow.”  Thor grinned, mimicking drinking for Loki.

“Asshole,” he rolled his eyes.  But for the first time in a long while, he smiled.

[unabashedrebel]

Who’s Innocent These Days?

“Never really understood the point of asking a guy with a bunch of daggers and dark leathers to tell the truth. But hey, we can’t all be the brightest crayons in the box.”

Asked someone to marry you?  “Guilty. If you asked me the real question is why they said yes. But some people are just interested in surface questions.” Kirollis quipped while looking square the questionnaire.

Kissed one of your friends? “If you haven’t kissed one of your friends I think you might have the wrong idea about dating. But hey, who am I to judge.”

Danced on a table in a bar / tavern?  “What happens in Shattrath stays in Shattrath...”

Ever told a lie? “Ever breathe air? See I can ask completely useless questions too.”

Had feelings for someone you can’t have?  “Guilty.” He answered, this time without that usual smug comment.

Ever kissed someone of the same sex? The rogue blinked as his head craned backward. It took him a minute but he finally admitted, “They’ve kissed me. Same difference, right? Can’t say I was a willing participant, but it happened.”

Kissed a picture? “Guilty.” 

Slept until 5pm?  “What are the parameters? Like do naps count? Because I’ve definitely napped until things start getting more exciting around the city.”

Worked at a fast food chain / restaurant  “I can say without a shadow of a doubt that I’m not qualified to work in the service industry. Lets be real, it would be dangerous for everyone involved.”

Stolen something? “What are you, a narc?”

Been fired from a job?  “There’s a lot of grey area in this question. Luckily for me grey areas are where I do my best work. That being said; Innocent.”

Done something you regret?  “Other then regretting agreeing to this questionnaire?” The rogue paused for dramatic effect, “Only every day.”

Laughed until something you were drinking came out of your nose?  “Can’t say that I have but I’ve definitely caused it.”

Caught a snowflake on your tongue?  “Clearly someone never walked in a blizzard. It’s pretty hard not to at least once.”

Sat on a roof top?  “I did, right up until the Illidari started coming to town. Now it’s anything but quiet. Weird ass demon people.”

Kissed someone you shouldn’t have?  Kirollis eyes shot upward as he actually gave the question some thought. With a procrastinating hum he would quickly mutter out, “I don’t think so, no.”

Sang in the shower?  “I only stopped because Soriya threatened to stab me...” And in that moment he answered both the lying question and the singing question in one foul swoop.

Been pushed into a body of water with all your clothes on? “...guilty.”

Shaved your head?  “And get rid of these luscious locks? I think not.” He spoke with mock indignation.

Made a boyfriend / girlfriend cry? A somber and serious tone overtook him for the moment. “Unfortunately, I am guilty of that.”

Shot a gun?  “A couple of times. I’m considering right now as a matter of fact..”

Still loved someone you shouldn’t?  “..Guilty.”

Have / had a tattoo?  “I never know how to answer this. Like, yeah I have a couple of tattoos but they’re magic in origin. They serve a purpose. Sorta like tools rather then... just to look cool. My kid has tattoos, I have runes that also happen to be tattoo’d.”

Liked someone, but will never tell who?  “I’ve sprung enough traps in my life to know one when I see one.”

Been too honest?  “Chronically. The funny part about being in my line of work? Nobody believes you anyways. I can give them the truth and they’ll still have to check the sources six times.”

Ruined a surprise? “I’m actually pretty good at keeping those. I’d be a pretty shitty rogue if I kept ruining the surprises, right?”

Been told that you’re beautiful by someone who totally meant what they said?  A few moments passed as Kirollis mulled it over. Finally he uttered,“Innocent.”, in a low tone.

Stalked someone?  Nervous laughter tumbled out of him until it became awkward. Once he finally calmed himself to a chuckle the rogue merely stated, “Next question.”

Thoughts about murder?  “They’re mostly innocent. Mostly.”

How about mass murder?  “I have mixed feelings. Technically I could be considered one. But I’m not a fan of the people who do it for fun.”

Cheated on someone? “Innocent, believe it or not.”

Gotten so angry that you cried?  A deep and clearing breath was taken before he answered, “Guilty.”

Tried to stay away from someone for their own good?  “More then people probably realize.”

Thoughts about suicide?  “Rather not get into it.”

Had a girlfriend / boyfriend?  “No, the two girls I asked to marry were just friends. It was a plutonic thing for the tax breaks. The fuck?” Mock indignation was woven into his words.

Gotten totally drunk during a holiday?  “What else are holidays for?”

Tagged by: @demetrius-sunsorrow​ @farstridings​ @k-scourgestrike​ @salt-water-siren​ @mother-marlowe​ @safrona-shadowsun​ @fel-over​ @sevensolar​ @selinasong​ (Thanks guys and gals!)

Tagging: @blue-eyedraven @blessed-by-pride @wildname @myzariel @deviantaisla @thornbolts @manclamps @susan-gampre​ @gravekeeper-anna​ @ranger-swiftwind​ 

[753398445a]

Liveblogging Harley Quinn Season 2 Episode 6 – All the Best Inmates Have Daddy Issues

Well, that’s a fun title. The obvious guess would be that Harley’s father makes a return, but we know from S1E05 that King Shark also has had issues with his father and the portrayal of Ivy’s relationship with hers in... Harley Quinn Highway? wasn’t so hot either. I’ve also seen what appeared to be screencaps of Harleen Quinzel and the version of Ivy from the season one finale (sidenote: has our fandom come up with a name for that aesthetic, like [something]!Ivy or whatever?) interacting, I assume those are from this episode since it was leaked in, like, Russia. Maybe dream sequences? If we’re dealing with psychological issues then Dr. Psycho’s mind-entering thing might be coming into play again. Then again, last episode seemed to be leading into a conflict with Bane and/or Two-Face, maybe we’ll be exploring one of their backstories? If so, I’m not sure how what I saw fits in, but for all I know it could just be some really accurate fanart or something. I have another dozen possibilities I’d like to mention but that seems tedious both to write and to read, so I’m just going to stop here. Oh, except I want to predict whether Sy will be in this episode: I’m gonna say no.

Starting off with some kick-ass music! Assuming they were alive, and that our genders/sexualities were compatible, I’d say marry Freeze, fuck Kite-Man (hell yeah!), kill Joker. Fries seems like a really great person to be in a relationship with, and while Kite-Man (hell yeah!) works well with Ivy I feel like he’s the type of person I would not want to be around for an extended length of time. Joker’s pretty obviously ‘kill’ because I don’t want to catch HPV from him (and also the obvious reasons). I wonder what Harley would’ve picked...

Did they recast the voice actor? Because Alan Tudyk has a lot of range but I don’t think that’s him. Then again, this guy doesn’t actually look much like The Joker to me either, so maybe the reason his voice is different is because Harley/Ivy are barking up the wrong tree.

Wait, is Harley not famous? Between her time near the then-most newsworthy villain in the city, then showing up on talk shows and the news, then her mother’s mention of how the neighborhood treated her poorly because everybody knew of what Harley had become, the raised street (with loop-de-loops) crediting her, the LoD’s press release when she joined, Joker’s wanted posters with her face on it, and Barbara recognizing her the minute her makeup came partially off I feel like the show has been portraying her as a household name.

Oh shit, flashback time! That pretty much confirms that what I saw is coming up, though I’m confused why [something]!Ivy is going to be here. Is that maybe also how she used to look? Also, Harley’s proof is totally going to be whatever pre-therapy Ivy was like, right?

Ngl, I thought that Harvey was Bruce until he started speaking. Also, I suppose he could be her proof, but that wouldn’t be as narratively satisfying as showing both us and Ivy her growth (no pun intended). And as long as we’re talking about Arkham chewing up psychologists, it would be cool if Crane made a cameo.

Wow, Harleen actually seemed grossed out by getting blood on her - didn’t episode five imply she was already killing people by this point?

He did appear, and so did a few other members of the rogues gallery. Shoutout to Riddler’s luxurious hair - I wonder if its naturally like that or if he’s somehow getting hair-care products while incarcerated. (also “Fuck off, Narc” is a great line for one of those soulmate AUs where the people have a birthmark in the shape of the first words that their soulmate says to them)

Harley just took a clipboard with a metal clip on it through what was clearly a metal detector. I don’t have a lot of personal experience with them, but I’m pretty sure that should have set it off. While I’m guessing that this is a mistake I suppose it could be a demonstration of how unreliable the security here is.

Is the coconut-lover getting another appearance weird to anybody else? At this point I feel like the writers may be ramping up to something with her character.

I could definitely make some jokes about the “I hate spunk” line, but I feel like that’s a bit too obvious. (that’s a lie, I tried but none of them were funny)

Jason Todd actually existed in this continuity? Based off how obviously lost Bruce was when trying to parent Damien I figured he hadn’t had a Robin before him.

It occurs to me that Gordon and Two-face actually interacted in the first episode of the season, I wonder if their prior relationship was alluded to in that scene.

Okay, the line “You wanna know how I got these emotional scars” might be the cleverest bit of writing this show has produced.

Also, so far I’ve been assuming this was an accurate retelling of what happened but I just remembered how warped Harley’s worldview is and am wondering how trustworthy any of this is. Then again, she wouldn’t know what Harvey said to that sniper. So maybe the beginning was just to set up the flashback, and not actually an indication that this is filtered through Harley’s perspective? (As of the end of the episode I’m still not sure)

[crue-sixx]

Falcon Punch!

Title: Falcon Punch!

Fandom: The Dirt (Motley Crue Movie)

Author: tiddly-winx

Summary: You are a private security detail hired by Doc to make sure the boys stay in line.

Warnings: Swearing, violence, light gore, vomit.

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

Your newest assignment was a doozie alright.  Your predecessor Doc McGee had called you and asked desperately for some assistance with handling one of his bands he was managing.  You were an asset in a private security firm, him being the man who recruited you off the street and trained you in a few martial arts styles.  He had found you when you and your friend Frank were running from the cops after being busted selling drugs to a narc.  You were the better fighter of the two kids (much to Frank's dismay), so you told him to run and you'll hold them off.  He did so reluctantly and you actually held your own for a few minutes before being tasered and sent to holding.

There, a man claiming to be your father posted your bail.  You knew it wasn't him, because the last time you saw him he made it perfectly clear that he never wanted to see you again.  The man before you then was offering you a way out of doing time in jail, so you tookhis hand and said "Sorry Daddy..." not in the sexual way, but in the way an actual daughter would address her biological father.  When you were in his car, you turned off the sweet charm and said "So who the fuck are you and why the fuck did you bail me out?"

"Well aren't you just all piss and vinegar?" the older man said, laughing.  "Just the amount of gumption I'm looking for!"

"That doesn't answer my question, smart ass" you grumbled.

"Call me Doc" he had said "I saw you beat the shit out of those cops and I was impressed to say the least.  So I want to recruit you to my private security agency.  With some training, you could make one of the top assets!"

"You DO know I'm only 14 right?" you raised an eyebrow.

"Yeah, yeah I'll have you home schooled but training comes first" he extended his arm for a handshake "But it is of course voluntary.  If you REALLY want to go to juuvie then I'll drive you there myself" he looked at you questioningly.

You took his hand without hesitation and smirked "You got yourself a deal, Doc" he smiled too and the rest is history.

He met you in the terminal of the airport with the band he was managing 'Motley Crue'.  They all looked like they were drunk and strung out on something, which from the stench coming off them, they were.  "Gentleman, this is Falcon" you smiled at them and they looked you up and down.  "She's here to help me keep you in line."

In unison, they laughed so hard they doubled over.  "THAT'S what's gonna keep us in line?!" the blonde one hooted "That hottie looks more down with fuckin' than fightin'!"  they all chortled their agreement.

You looked over at Doc and said "May I?"

He chuckled "I'd be insulted if you didn't!"

Quick as lightning you punched the blonde one's throat, following it with a palm heel to the nose and a final iron forged fist into the soft tissue of his belly.  Blood and vomit went everywhere, the singer holding his nose and dry heaving.  The other three were stunned into silence, you grabbing him by the hair and growled "Talk to me like that again and I'll break you dick so the only things you can do with it are pissin' and finger paintin'" you lifted his face to meet yours "got it memorized?"

Vince was so pissed off, but he relented and nodded an affirmative answer.    One of the dark haired ones looked you up and down, as if trying to place you somewhere "Y/N?"

You stopped to look at him too, not hearing your real name in years.  You lifted up his bangs that hung in his face to get a better look at him "Frank?" he cringed at the name at first, but his smile grew wide.

"I changed it to Nikki a few years ago" he explained "Holy shit I see you can still open a case of whoop-ass like nobody's business" he glanced down at Vince, who was slowly recovering.  The tall one was helping him clean himself up like a worried mother hen.

"As you recall, Nikki" you smiled back at him "I don't like to be made a fool of or laughed at"  the older guitarist seemed quite amused at the spectacle, laughing at the singer's misfortune.

Nikki grew silent and asked "What happened after I got away...that night?"

"We can talk about that later, right now we need to talk about new security measures" Doc had rented out a conference room for such purposes.

You straightened your clothes and began "Gentleman, from this day on until the day Doc releases me from this assignment there will be no booze, no fucking, and no drugs unless prescribed by a doctor as medication.  Any questions?"

They all got up and protested "That's not fair!  We haven't done anything that bad lately!" the drummer yelled.

"Until you calm down and ease up on that shit, these rules will be increasingly enforced as I see fit.  Now you can be good little boys or you can get another beat down like Malibu Barbie over there" you nodded to Vince, who at this current moment in time was unable to talk just flipped you the bird.

Nikki was just as pissed as his band mates and he retorted "And just how are you gonna enforce these fucked up rules?" sarcastically.

You grinned a Cheshire cat smile and darkly, sweetly "I have my ways~" this struck the fear of the Falcon in them.

Things were quiet for a few days, the band going straight to their hotel rooms after shows.  They kept their noses clean (both literally and figuratively) from trouble and keeping their cool.  Doc was so happy with the results that he almost ended your contract after a week, but you had a hunch that one of them would try some shit and you were right.

"I think it's time we call for Bruce" you grinned, Doc reflecting your sadistic nature.

Tommy tried to open the door to get to the bar downstairs, only to be met by a snarling rot wilier german shepard mixed monster of a dog.  He screamed and jumped back in his room "Going somewhere, drummer?"

"No, ma'am!" he quickly squeaked, never taking his eyes off the dog.

"You're in luck Tommy" you giggled "I'm in a good mood.  If you can outrun Bruce here, you can have one drink, one bitch and one hit of any drug of your choice" you offered the trifecta of rewards.

He actually contemplated his chances and in a rare show of good judgement he slowly backed into his room and shut the door.  "Good boy!" you praised him.  You turned around to see the others peeking out of their rooms and quickly shut the doors.  They didn't want to end up dog food.

You knew the fear of Bruce was going a long way, and from your surveillance of their rooms you knew that they wouldn't try anything as long as you were there.  Doc had officially ended your contract and you were headed back to headquarters in secret.  You had quietly packed your bags and were rolling them down the hall when Nikki opened the door to let the room service he ordered in.  "What are ya doin?" he asked.

You laughed and said "My contract with Doc is over" you smiled at him.  "You can do whatever the fuck you want now.  It's no longer my business" you turned to leave but he pulled you into his room.

"I've been trying to talk to you" he said "about that night you let me go..."

You stiffened, the memory being more painful than you'd like to admit.  "I went to holding, Doc bailed me out, sort of adopted me and trained me to become the fighter you see now" you kept it short and sweet.  "How about you?"

He told you about his mom and the many times he'd moved around the place with his grandparents, who he fondly recalled all the stories.  After he was done, you said quietly "Did you ever think of me as anything more than a friend, Nikki?"

He bit his lip, knowing you had a crush on him when you were younger and he played off that feeling you had for him to get what he wanted.  "No" he said truthfully, and he felt like an ass for leading you on.  "I'm sorry I played off your feelings for me...I always knew it was wrong, but at the time I didn't care..." you felt unadulterated rage boil up inside you.  You clenched your fists and jaw so tight they would have broken diamonds.

"Goodbye Frank" you purposely called him by his birth name.  "If you ever grow up from that scared little boy you always were, call Falcon Security and ask for the Boss"  you hurriedly left with your bags, not allowing him to see the tears in your eyes.

Nikki sat in his room alone, then called room service for a shit load of Jack Daniels, mountains of blow and so many hookers his dick was sore.  When he woke up next to a complete stranger and left with a straw still in his nose.  In the bathroom, he removed the straw and looked at himself in the mirror.  "I'm such an asshole..." he hung his head in shame, not wanting to remember what he did to you all those years ago.

[lady-divine-writes]

Kurtbastian fic - “What You Deserve: Chapter 1/2 - The Life You Deserve” (Rated NC17)

Summary: Sebastian is making a huge change in his life, and he’s starting by going to Kurt, a man with a specific talent that will help Sebastian move on. (5312 words)

Notes: Written for the Kurtbastian hiatus project prompt ‘free day’. Warning for anxiety, forced relationship due to homophobia, mention of self-harm scars and (on an unrelated note) an image including blood. (No gore in this.)

I’m posting this again because 1) it’s been a bit refreshed and 2) I will be posting chapter 2 soon. Also, I’ve played with the title a bit because I think it better reflects the theme on the story. Also the rating has been changed to reflect upcoming sexual content.

Read on AO3.

Sebastian paces outside the run-down, red-bricked, residential loft that he had to bribe a taxi cab driver to take him to. He can honestly say that he has never feared for his life before tonight, so he can chalk this up as a first on his list of life experiences. He runs his hands up and down his arms while he tries to decide whether he will push the buzzer for the door or not.

No matter what happens, he came here willingly, so he has no one to blame but himself.

The loft is located on a filthy side street in Bushwick – a neighborhood in Brooklyn that Sebastian didn’t even know existed until a few months ago. He looks around at the stacks upon stacks of black trash bags, brittle and disintegrating in the cold, piled up along the curbs, left to degrade as the garbage trucks seem to have forgotten that Bushwick exists. Sebastian side-eyes a multitude of young men in black jackets with their faces covered shooting him curious looks. He had tried his best to dress down in an effort to blend in, but in his khaki pants and Burberry peacoat, he sticks out like a sore thumb. Sebastian is neither too proud nor ashamed to admit that this is definitely not his element. Yes, Sebastian could have probably lived happily the rest of his life having never come here, but now that he’s here, he’d feel like a coward if he backed out.

Sebastian hears footsteps race down a staircase beyond the metal door in front of him and pauses in his tracks to see who’ll come out. Maybe he can slip through the door quietly when whoever on the other side leaves and continue his pacing inside. But the door only opens a crack big enough for a man’s face to peek out – an unnaturally pale face with a shock of teal hair sticking up from his forehead, and piercings on almost every conceivable piece of skin. His lipstick is dark purple, nearly black, though it’s difficult to tell the subtle differences beneath the orange glow of the arc sodium street lights. He stares at Sebastian – icy blue eyes ringed in black liner – not blinking for nearly a full minute, which Sebastian finds alarming.

“Are you coming upstairs?” those dark lips say in a high-pitched voice that Sebastian did not initially expect, but which fits the face. “Or are you going to pace back and forth out here all night? You’re making my neighbors nervous.” His eyes look past Sebastian to the group of young men in the black jackets that Sebastian had been wary of. With a nod and a smile, he says, “Don’t worry, guys. This one’s with me.”

“Cool.”

“Alright.”

“Later, dude.”

The men wave, giving Sebastian one last judgmental once over before turning down the street and disappearing around the corner.

“Why?” Sebastian asks with a twist to his lips. “Did they think I was casing the joint?”

The pale man’s right eyebrow shoots almost as far up as his teal hair, the smirk on his lips mirroring Sebastian’s.

“Sort of.” He opens the door wider and steps aside to let Sebastian in. “You look like a fucking narc.” Sebastian hurries through the door, shivering the moment the heat of the hallway hits him, and catches the pale man shaking his head. “Casing the joint.” He chuckles as he closes the door, throwing about fifteen bolts to lock it tight. “Who the hell are you? Columbo?”

“I’m Sebastian, actually,” he replies lamely, following the man as he leads him up the stairs.

“I know that,” the man says, throwing a look over his shoulder. “I was keeping an eye out for you. You’re not the kind of man who usually comes all the way out to Bushwick looking for my particular services.”

“Really?” Sebastian asks, intrigued. “And what kind of man am I?”

“Privileged,” the man answers quickly. “Private school boy, a captain of industry who’s lost his way and is struggling to find himself. But you can afford to. You have more money than you deserve.”

“Wow,” Sebastian says with a dry, unamused chuckle. “You definitely don’t pull punches.”

“Don’t need to.” The man turns a corner and starts up another long staircase. “You’re paying to be here, and your credit card’s already cleared.”

“Wait” - Sebastian finally catches on to something the man said before - “you were watching me for the last half hour while I was outside freezing my ass off?”

“Yup,” the man says unapologetically. “From my fire escape.”

“Why didn’t you let me in earlier?” A latent chill runs up Sebastian’s spine to remind him how cold it is outside.

“Because I wanted to see what you’d do.” The man turns another corner to yet another staircase. “Besides, our appointment is for eight, and it’s eight right now.”

Sebastian looks up past the man at the remaining stairs and groans internally. Who the hell lives in an apartment with this many stairs and no elevator?

“Do you know who I am?” the man asks when Sebastian goes quiet.

“Your name’s Kurt, right?” Sebastian hopes he’s right. He has the feeling that this man - who he’s about to become very intimate with in the next few minutes - will be extremely offended if he’s not.

“Very good,” Kurt says with a smile that the devil himself might wear on Sundays. It makes Sebastian nervous.

It almost makes him miss the time he spent waiting outside.

“Are … are you allowed to be doing this out of your loft?” Sebastian scans the staircase around them, the awkwardly long steps and the antique scrolled wood railing an odd contrast to the otherwise industrial feel of the building.

“These are working lofts. The people who live here are artists who conduct their business out of their homes. And since what I do qualifies as an art, so do I.”

“You think so?” The words slip out before Sebastian can stop them, and he mentally slaps himself.

Kurt walks up to the next landing in silence, leading Sebastian down a hall to one of the only two doors on the floor. Sebastian waits for the fall-out from his arrogant remark, but Kurt smiles wider and winks at him.

“I know so.” He grabs the handle and slides the immense door open, gesturing for Sebastian to enter.

Sebastian turns a circle as he walks, looking the loft over. It’s a dark space - oppressively dark, a reflection of the unsafe atmosphere of the street outside. The walls are brick, but painted in abstract swirling patterns that fluoresce under the numerous black lights hanging from tracks installed along the beams of the ceiling. Art prints hang everywhere, alongside mirrors that make this enormous space seem even bigger. Kurt owns a whole lot of nothing furniture-wise. Sebastian sees a kitchen with no table, a living room with no sofa. The only furniture in the whole loft, it seems, are two chairs over by the window, and a king-sized bed off to the far end.

It’s the bed that has Sebastian captivated. It looks pristinely made, with a designer comforter tucked in above crisp, white sheets, and a mass of pillows in all sizes stacked neatly along the headboard.

Kurt snaps his fingers in Sebastian’s face as he passes in front of him, drawing his attention to the two chairs by the window – one a regular rolling stool, and the other a large, vintage barber’s chair. Kurt settles down in the rolling stool and pulls up to a black counter that had been obscured from view originally by the shadows in the room. Kurt flips on a few lamps, and bright white light floods that corner of the loft.

Sebastian approaches the barber’s chair, peeling off his peacoat and swallowing hard. He has sudden flashbacks of an old CSI episode he once saw where some mob guy would castrate men in a chair just like this one. As he gets closer, he notices that it looks impeccably clean. Castration would probably leave a lot of blood stains, stains that even a really thorough person might miss, so the fact that this chair looks brand new has to count for something.

Sebastian drapes his coat over the back of the chair and sits down, the thick, red vinyl cushions sucking him in, squeaking loudly as it accommodates his weight. It’s the kind of chair you have to recline in. The moment his back touches it, he feels himself relax, even though his mind is still a whirlwind of alarms.

It’s the same reaction he gets when he goes to the dentist – knots in his stomach as he checks himself in, a momentary façade of calm as he sits in the chair and makes himself comfortable …

… then the dentist walks in, the drill comes out, and all he wants to do is scream and run.

Sebastian watches Kurt set up his station – laying out inks and making adjustments to his tattoo gun – feeling less inclined to scream or run than he thought he would. Kurt steps on a pedal and listens to his machine buzz, then shuts it off and makes more adjustments.

Sebastian’s brain aches with a need to interrogate this man on everything from his stark apartment to the color of his hair, but only one question burns to be asked.

“Are you really psychic?”

“I have a reputation for having certain abilities.” Kurt steps on the pedal again. “But no answer I give you will matter if you don’t think I am.”

Kurt glances at Sebastian, his brief stare a challenge.

“I don’t believe in psychics.” Sebastian folds his hands in his lap and looks up at the ceiling where a row of black bulbs glow a metallic purple, lending color to Kurt’s skin when he rolls in and out of their light.

“Then why are you here? There are tons of tattoo artists in this city. I’m sure you could find one closer to you. Or, at least, in a safer neighborhood.”

“Because, like you said, my credit card already cleared,” Sebastian replies, being as evasive as possible. If Kurt really is psychic, then he should know why Sebastian is there, waiting to be tortured.

“Why are you here?” Kurt repeats, paying no mind to Sebastian’s snarky remark. Sebastian frowns. He was trying to prove a point, which he may have well done, but he’ll feel like an ass making an issue of it.

“You came highly recommended,” he says, which is as close to the truth as anything else.

“By Andy, right?” Kurt puts his gun down and pulls out a box of latex gloves. “The chick with the circular rainbow on her shoulder?”

“Yeah.” Sebastian nods, not wanting to sound impressed that this man seemed to know off the top of his head who Sebastian had mentioned recommending him when he made this appointment over six months ago. “She said you gave it to her for good luck.”

Kurt looks up at the note of derision in Sebastian’s voice that he can’t seem to hide. He carries it like it’s embedded in his DNA. “What? You don’t think the poor woman deserves a little luck?”

Sebastian agrees in his mind that she does. After three failed marriages and two miscarriages, the woman deserves all the luck she can get, but Sebastian doesn’t see how a tattoo is supposed to give that to her. Sebastian stays tight-lipped about it as he watches Kurt prepare. Kurt sees the determined set of Sebastian’s mouth and rolls his eyes.

“What were you thinking about getting?” He turns in his stool to face Sebastian, giving him his complete attention.

“Aren’t you supposed to tell me what I want?” Sebastian asks with a bitter edge. “Isn’t that your shtick? My body is your canvas or some shit?”

Kurt chuckles. He sits with his back resting against his counter and looks at Sebastian again, this time taking particular interest in his eyes. Kurt stares until Sebastian feels uneasy with his eyes on him, staring like he knows too much – staring like he knows everything. Kurt licks his lips, reaching to his counter and grabbing a bottle of water.

“You don’t really want to get a tattoo,” Kurt starts, taking a drink from the bottle before he continues. “That’s why you’re so willing to put the decision in my hands. Not because you think I have any real psychic talent. And you’re right. I don’t.”

“So, what am I …?”

“You’re paying for the benefit of my expertise.” Kurt stands and walks over to Sebastian. Placing one knee between Sebastian’s legs and leaning in close, he grabs Sebastian by the jaw and tilts his head down so he can look deeper into his eyes. Again he stares, the blacks of his pupils wider now, pushing the blue of his irises aside, making his eyes look very much like an owl’s – dangerous and unreadable. “You’re changing lives,” Kurt whispers, his breath ghosting over Sebastian’s lips at this close distance, “job, address, the whole shebang. And you’re here because you need to cover up some … scars …” Kurt’s eyes drift down to the long sleeves of Sebastian’s dress shirt, pulled down to his wrists and buttoned tight at the cuffs.

Kurt looks back up to Sebastian’s face, but instead of inscrutable and cold, his eyes are sympathetic.

It’s a sympathy that borders on pity, and Sebastian doesn’t want pity.

“So, you’re a good guesser.” Sebastian darts his gaze away, feeling exposed and violated that this man figured him out so easily when his closest friends and family haven’t even tried. “Besides, everybody’s got scars. That doesn’t make me any different.” Kurt pulls away slowly, standing up straighter, his fingers trailing down Sebastian’s arm, brushing his wrist before they disappear. He stares again, and Sebastian feels as if another layer of his soul is being stripped bare. He’s about to give up, stand from the chair and leave, a thousand dollars be damned, but Kurt’s eyes drop back to Sebastian’s cuff and, with swift fingers, he starts to undo the buttons.

“This one’s the worst,” Kurt mumbles as he works the buttons open. “Your left wrist, because you’re right-handed.”

Sebastian’s rational mind thinks he should pull his wrist away before Kurt sees, but his heart – which has been screaming out for weeks for someone to notice that nothing is okay in his life, that he’s in unbearable pain – wants Kurt to see.

He wants someone to share the burden of his secret.

Kurt undoes the last button, but the marks had been visible after the first, and Kurt looks at the silvery shadows of these violent, angry scars with regret in his eyes.

He doesn’t like uncovering people’s secrets – he just happens to be good at it.

“I … I wasn’t trying to kill myself,” Sebastian says, his hand trembling beneath Kurt’s fingers.

“I know,” Kurt says softly. “I can help you with this.” The caress of his eyes on Sebastian’s skin is soft, but his fingertips are softer. “What did your wife say when she found out?”

Kurt doesn’t look up when he asks his question, working now on the buttons of Sebastian’s right cuff to see the matching marks. He doesn’t need to see Sebastian’s face to know his eyes are wide and his jaw is hanging open.

“How did you …?”

“The tan line on your left ring finger.” Kurt undoes the last button and runs his fingers delicately over the scars he uncovers there. “It’s narrow, part of a matching set, but not something a man would normally choose for himself unless he had small hands, and you …” Kurt lets a smile slip as he opens Sebastian’s curled fingers “… definitely do not have small hands.”

Sebastian’s return smile wobbles at the corners. “She hasn’t yet. I left her. I didn’t give her a reason.”

“But the reason is you don’t love her. You never did,” Kurt declares boldly, and even though it’s true, Sebastian flinches. “You had to marry her” - Kurt laces their fingers together - “but your heart never beat that way.”

Kurt looks even deeper into Sebastian’s eyes (and how that’s possible, Sebastian doesn’t know), trying to unearth more, but Sebastian can’t imagine there’s anything more there for Kurt to see. It’s true, all of it, but it doesn’t feel like truth because Sebastian hasn’t confessed it.

He needs to start speaking for himself.

“I married her because I was expected to.”

Kurt unlaces their fingers, stepping away to take his seat. He rolls Sebastian’s sleeve up to his elbow and grabs his tattoo gun. He turns the machine on and dips the needles in a cup of ink. The machine buzzes like an angry wasp in Kurt’s hands, but he holds it still, the needles barely an inch above Sebastian’s skin.

“Keep talking,” Kurt commands, waiting patiently for Sebastian to continue.

“My father …” the words come out, then a hiss as Kurt touches the machine and their driving needles into the sensitive skin of Sebastian’s wrist.

“Yes,” Kurt says, concentrating on the mark he’s made, blending the red ink with a silver scar.

“My father is old money, so to speak,” Sebastian grinds out between his teeth, scolding himself in his head for being a wuss. “He’s also an asshole, a misogynist … a homophobe …”

“A Republican?” Kurt gives Sebastian only a moment to breathe while he switches inks. Sebastian uses that moment to chuckle before the needles hit his skin again.

“My dad makes Republicans look compassionate.” Sebastian bites his tongue to keep from embarrassing himself by whimpering.

Kurt whistles low. “Jesus. That sucks.”

Sebastian makes a fist and Kurt looks at him - squinting into the darkness, his jaw locked, his face tense, his breathing coming a little too fast.

“Try to relax, sweetheart,” Kurt says in a soothing voice, “or you’re going to pass out before we’re even halfway done.”

Sebastian takes in a huge lungful of air and lets it out slowly.

“That’s better,” Kurt says, assaulting Sebastian’s skin with the gun again. “So, tell me more about this asshole father of yours.”

“Well …” Sebastian searches for a good place in his story to start. If he starts at the very beginning, then he’ll have to mention the constant badgering he got to strive for good grades and the threats if he didn’t succeed, if he didn’t become the captain of his school’s lacrosse team or the head of the debate team, and the emotional manipulation that led him to Harvard instead of NYU. So he decides to start with his wife, Clarice. “My dad wants Smythe money to stay in the family – to be passed down from generation to generation. For that to happen, he needed his son – his only son – to get married and have kids. ”

“Did you ever tell him the truth?”

Sebastian looks at Kurt, hoping to see those icy eyes trained on him, but Kurt’s total focus is narrowed to the image erupting beneath his gun.

“No,” Sebastian admits, scowling at his own weak voice. “He started pressing me to find a wife since the day I started college – which was about when I had finally become comfortable with the idea of …” Sebastian stops mid-sentence, not yet comfortable with speaking his own truth out loud. Even now, as he is beginning to realize what is right for him, it still sounds wrong to say.

The gun stops biting into his flesh, and Kurt does look up, tilting his head as he reads Sebastian’s eyes.

“The idea of exploring your sexuality?” Kurt asks.

“Yeah. Exactly.”

“Did you ever?” Kurt’s voice is strangely shy when he asks, though it could be the buzzing from the tattoo gun, Sebastian thinks, distorting the timbre of Kurt’s voice.

“A few times. But you know, I felt so Goddamned guilty that I didn’t even enjoy it.” Sebastian laughs out of anger, then hisses when the needles find another sensitive area of skin.

“That’s a shame.” Kurt stops to grab a paper towel. He wets it, then wipes down the image so far. The soothing sensation lasts only a second before Sebastian’s skin ignites beneath the tattoo gun again. “Did you meet your wife in college?”

“No, she’s a … friend of the family.” Sebastian’s description is vague and Kurt leaves it. “She was kind of chosen for me.”

“Was it an arranged marriage?”

“No, not arranged. It was greatly encouraged.” Sebastian sighs. “It might have well been arranged. By the time I asked her to marry me, I couldn’t care less either way. I had been hounded and threatened with everything from being disowned to being locked away. She was as good as anyone else. The worst part is she’s such a lovely woman. She deserves so much better.”

“You both do.” Kurt wipes the tattoo down again. He returns to his work, and the studio goes silent, the buzz of the machine filling the air with its constant drone. Sebastian keeps his eyes fixed to the ceiling, intent on not peeking at the image until Kurt is done with it. He feels Kurt finish with his left arm – over three hours’ worth of work – and spin the barber’s chair around so he can move on to the right.

“Where were you thinking of running?” Kurt pipes up halfway through the right arm.

“Hmmm?” Sebastian asks. His mind had started wandering – going over all the details, all the moments that had led up to this point. Was there ever a time where 5-, 10-, 16-year-old Sebastian could have stood up to his father? In retrospect, there were times where he might have been able to confront his father and act braver than he felt, but the reality is no. His father is a man that most grown adults don’t like to talk to – not because he’s so intimidating, but because there isn’t any point in it. His father doesn’t listen to anyone.

Sebastian also thought about those boys he experimented with in college.

Adam – soft spoken, beautiful Adam. Musical theater major. At first, Sebastian thought the idea of majoring in musical theater was ridiculous, but he squashed that when he realized that was his father in him talking. Adam had such a beautiful voice, such a way with music. He had the heart of a poet, and the soul of a performer. He was meant for the stage. Sebastian has never looked him up, but he hopes he got there.

Elliott –poli sci major. Energetic. Dreamer. Determined to make a difference in the world, both politically and with the help of his punk rock band. Sebastian was certain that Elliott, with his glam leather outfits and glitter rock vamp make-up, was the edgiest man he had ever met, but he’s sure that Kurt could give him a run for his money.

Hunter – the only one of the bunch who had any chance of understanding what Sebastian was going through. He had a strict, conservative upbringing; a father he could never make proud; and a trust fund whose existence hedged on his constant obedience. But unlike Sebastian, Hunter had the balls to spit in his father’s face and split – and the business-minded brilliance to siphon away his trust fund from underneath his dad’s nose without the man being any the wiser.

Could any of those men have been the love of Sebastian’s life? If he had sacrificed a little here, compromised a little there, would any one of them have made him happy enough to bid his family and his inheritance farewell?

He even let his mind drift to another universe where he and Kurt could have met a long time ago, maybe even gone to the same school together. Kurt is so easy to talk to. Maybe it’s an occupational hazard, spending so much time with people, listening to their life stories. Tattoos are very personal, or so he’d always been told by the few people he knew who had them. In order to dish out a thousand dollars for a custom tattoo, sight unseen, from a man with “psychic abilities”, you have to have one hell of a story to tell. Kurt must have heard them all. Sebastian would think he’d get tired of listening after a while, but Kurt doesn’t seem to. He’s worked hard to reveal Sebastian’s story, though he probably doesn’t have to do that with everyone.

The one thing that Sebastian has noticed the entire time he’s been in that barber’s chair is that Kurt hasn’t revealed a single tidbit from his own life, not a morsel of his backstory. Sebastian is dying to get to know him better. Something about Kurt clicks in his head, like a key opening a rusty lock.

What would it take to get Kurt to reveal his secrets?

“You’re running away,” Kurt says, his comment bringing Sebastian back to the present. “Do you have an idea which direction you’re headed?”

“No, not really,” Sebastian admits, which is one of the flaws in his plan. He took back his freedom, took control of his life. Now he needs to figure out what to do with it. “Do you have any suggestions?”

“Well” - Kurt rolls back to his counter to change inks - “I think I would just travel America. Don’t look for any one particular destination. Make the whole country your destination, but,” Kurt says pointedly, returning to Sebastian’s arm, “I would definitely start in California.”

“California?”

“Yeah.” Kurt finishes the shading on Sebastian’s tattoo, then sits back in his stool to take a look. “Start off in San Francisco and start your own sexual revolution. Then hit the beach, get some sun. Head out to the desert. Glory in the big blue sky and all the quiet. Sleep in your car. Make friends with the locals. Eat some peyote. Find some enlightenment.”

“It sounds like you’ve done it once or twice.”

“Loads. As often as I can get away.” Kurt turns off his gun and sets it down carefully. He wets another paper towel and pats down Sebastian’s tattoo. He pulls Sebastian’s arms together to get a look at the images side by side, giving them a final review. “There.” He gets up and turns on a few more lights. “Take a look.”

Sebastian doesn’t look down right away. He takes a deep breath, counts to three. What Kurt has put on his arms isn’t just a tattoo. It’s a jumping off point for the rest of his life. So, like starting any journey, he has to convince himself it’s time.

But if not now, when?

He looks down, absorbing the image now permanently etched on his arms. The colors are vibrant. That’s the first thing that hits him. More vibrant than he would have chosen if given the option. On his right arm, Kurt has tattooed a rose in black and white. It looks hyper-real, like it was printed from an old photograph, but the rose itself is withering, curling at the petals, drawing back toward itself as it begins to die. The stem of the rose goes from brown to green and seems to weave through his skin, breaking in and out of his arm, leaving drops of blood in its wake. The stem becomes a vine, and the vine grows thorns – ragged, sharp thorns. The vine continues on to the next arm and becomes wire – razor wire that curls and coils. It spirals at his forearm around a heart – an anatomically correct, extraordinarily authentic looking human heart. Sebastian stares at it, and the more he does, the more it looks like it’s pulsing, thrumming on his skin, trying to break free from its metal cage. The heart bleeds, but it still beats in protest, and in the very center where the heart bleeds most, Sebastian can see the razor wire starting to break.

But most importantly, the stem and the vines and the wires perfectly cover the scars that ran down Sebastian’s skin. Nothing of them remains.

“It’s … it’s perfect.” Sebastian turns his arms to catch the way the colors light up his skin. “How did you …?”

Kurt taps his finger against his forehead. “Intuition. That’s all.”

“Well, you’re an amazing artist.” Sebastian can’t stop smiling at the art on his skin, but he’s still a bit unsure. “It’s just …”

“Just, what?” Kurt asks as he starts putting his inks away.

“It’s so personal, so incredibly spot on. What do I tell people when they ask me what it means?”

Kurt lifts his eyes to meet Sebastian’s, his gaze unforgiving.

“You got that tattoo for you, Sebastian.” Kurt walks up to him and puts his hands on his upper arms, pinning him to the chair with the intensity of his stare. “You don’t owe anyone an explanation.” Kurt’s lips crinkle sideways as he goes back to his counter. “Besides,” he says, not meeting Sebastian’s eyes again, “the guy you’re going to be thinking about your entire trip, the one that you’ll come back to when you decide that New York will always be your home, he’ll understand what it means.” Kurt returns with a handful of black pads and surgical tape. He spreads a light layer of clear ointment over Sebastian’s tattoo, then covers it with the pads, layering them so that the tape doesn’t touch the tatted skin. He pulls Sebastian’s sleeves down to cover those areas and does the buttons up again.

The entire time Kurt stands in front of him, dressing him, Sebastian holds his breath, trying to decipher what man? Who could Kurt mean? Could he possibly be referring to …?

“Now, if you go to my website,” Kurt says, giving Sebastian a hand up, “I have all the information you’ll need for taking care of that tattoo.” He reaches past Sebastian to grab his coat, opens it, and helps him into it.

“How can I repay you?” Sebastian asks, at a loss for how to express his gratitude, but he’s also hoping he can parlay this into a roundabout way of asking Kurt out to dinner.

“Technically, you already paid me.” Kurt takes Sebastian’s hand and leads him from the loft. With every step toward the exit, Sebastian feels his chance with this man slip away, and he realizes that regardless of his “taking charge of his life” and his painful tattoo to the contrary, he’s still a coward.

Otherwise, he would just open his mouth and ask Kurt out to dinner.

But he doesn’t.

He steps outside, and the cold air hits him hard. He turns to face Kurt, and the man with the icy blue eyes smiles.

“Thanks again,” Sebastian says, stalling for time.

“You’re welcome,” Kurt replies, the door creaking slowly shut. Then it stops. “Actually, there is one more thing.” He walks out the door and into Sebastian’s space, quickly threading his fingers into his hair and fitting their mouths together.

It’s not a long kiss, but it’s a powerful one. It warms Sebastian straight to his feet in his shoes and to the roots of his hair where Kurt tugs lightly. Sebastian’s arms come up to hold him, winding around his narrow waist, hands crawling up his back, begging for something more. But suddenly Kurt steps away, leaving Sebastian to chase his lips.

Sebastian opens his eyes and looks into Kurt’s smiling face. “Why … why did you do that?”

Kurt shrugs.

“Because I wanted to. Because you needed me to.” Kurt backs away toward his loft door and slips through. “Call me when you get back. You can take me out to dinner.” He closes the door for good this time, leaving Sebastian out in a cold he no longer feels.