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naminethewriter · 3 years

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Vacation

This is my entry for the @sandersidesbigbang! I had a lot of fun participating 🥰 Thanks to all the mods for organizing this! Also huge thanks to @just-a-pintrovert & @5-falsehoods-phonated for beta reading 💙 There is also some artwork also from @just-a-pintrovert here! They did a fantastic job and I highly recommend you check out her blog! And now, enjoy!

Here on Ao3

Characters: Patton, Virgil, Roman, Janus, Logan, Remus

Relationships: platonic Intrulogical, platonic Prinmoxiety, platonic Moceit

Rating: T

Words: 12,502

Summary: Logan doesn't show up for breakfast one morning, leaving behind a letter declaring he's going on vacation. Unsure of its authenticity, Roman, Patton and Virgil go to look for him on Remus' side of the Imagination with a certain snake as their guide.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It started out like any other day. Patton entered the kitchen around 7 in the morning to prepare breakfast. Logan should join him soon, then Roman around an hour later and Virgil after that. When exactly was hard to say, the anxious side’s sleep schedule was the most inconsistent, but most of the time he was up last. Today Patton wanted to make an extra special breakfast since their discussion the day before had gotten a bit out of hand and nobody walked away from it happy. He just hoped all his kiddos would show up. 

Half an hour later that fear proves to be warranted. Logan still hasn’t come down. Patton had even checked the coffee machine to make sure he hadn’t missed him. But it was still as clean as he had left it yesterday. Nervously his eyes flicker from the stove to the clock and over to the stairs before he focuses on making breakfast again, but his eyes would stray every few seconds. 

Five minutes later he finally hears movement upstairs. Logan probably had been exhausted yesterday and stayed in bed a bit longer than usual. Someone was coming down the stairs now and Patton turns around with a big smile, expecting Logan but coming across Virgil instead. 

“Oh,” Patton says, his smile slipping. But he immediately catches the insecure look on Virgil’s face at his reaction. “Sorry, kiddo,” he laughs, trying his best to seem cheerful. “I thought you were Logan, but I’m happy to see you, too! It’s quite early for you though. Did you not sleep well?” Now that he takes a closer look, Patton can see the tiredness on Virgil’s face, who gives him a weak smile. 

“Morning, popstar. I just woke up and couldn’t get back to sleep so I figured might as well get up, y’know?” He moves over to the coffee machine, looking at it confused for a few seconds before he seems to realize what else Patton had said. “Logan wasn’t here yet?” 

“I don’t think so,” Patton shakes his head, his eyes now fixed on the stove so that Virgil doesn’t see the concern across his face. “I’m sorry there’s no coffee, you know I’m no good at making some.” He tries to play it off as a joke with a laugh but even he knows it’s not convincing. Virgil hovers at the coffee machine, unsure of what to do, how to comfort Patton. Instead, he moves to make the coffee himself and trying to cheer the other up with words. 

“It’s fine, Pat. I can do it and I’m sure Lo’s gonna come down soon. We all had a lot to think about yesterday… Maybe he just needs some more time to think it through again this morning. But you know how he is, he’ll come down and act like it was nothing later. You’ll see.” At the end of his little ramble, the machine is in the process of brewing and Virgil gives Patton a short hug before moving to set the table. 

“Yeah, you’re probably right,” Patton mumbles, more to himself than to Virgil and continues to work on breakfast. 

Around 20 minutes later, Roman arrives, a lot more energized than Virgil had been. “What a wondrous morrow! ‘Tis a day to sing and dance, I say!” Both Patton and Virgil chuckle at his boasting. 

“Good morning to you too, Roman,” Patton greets as he pulls him into a loose hug before going back to distribute their breakfast onto the plates Virgil had sat out. 

“I’m surprised to see you arrive before me, Doom-and-Gloom,” Roman says to Virgil while preparing his own mug of coffee. The other had taken seat on the counter after finishing his part of breakfast preparations and watched Patton work the rest of the time while slowly nursing his coffee (I say slowly but he is already working on his second mug). Virgil just shrugs. 

“Couldn’t get back to sleep.” Roman hums in acknowledgment and then silence falls over the kitchen, only Patton scurrying around is heard. Not long however before Patton cheerfully announces: “Breakfast is ready!” 

“Wonderful!” Roman exclaims loudly. “What a marvelous feast you prepared for us, padre!” Patton giggles. 

“Thank you for the compliment, my prince.” 

“My, of course! What kind of ruler would I be if I couldn’t appreciate my subjects!” 

“A pretty standard one,” Virgil adds with a small smile. Roman huffs. 

“Only more proof that I am exceptional.” 

“That you are, Roman,” Patton laughs, but he sobers up suddenly, now looking worried again. 

“What’s wrong, padre? Tell me your worries and I shall strike them down with my sword!” Roman proclaims loudly in hopes of banning that expression from Patton’s face. The other gives him a small smile before looking over to the stairs. 

“Logan still hasn’t come down. I’m sure it’s nothing, but I’m worried,” he explains. Roman quickly looks towards the stairs as well, this is the first he’s heard of their nerd not arriving this morning. It wasn’t unusual for Logan to go back upstairs after having his first cup of coffee, opting to get a bit more work done before the rest of them get up. But not coming down at all was rare. A glance towards Virgil shows him that the anxious side is worrying his bottom lip, eyeshadow a bit darker than normal. Roman places both his hands on Patton’s shoulders in a reaffirming grip and smiles at him. 

“I’m sure our nerd just got lost in a book or something. I shall go fetch him at once.” 

“Thank you,” Patton says with a small smile that Roman returns before he heads back up the stairs. Logan’s room was the one furthest away from the common area. He’d always reasoned that he didn’t want any of the noise to travel to his door and Roman could see his point. Logan was the only one of them that stuck to a regulated sleep schedule and was often the first one to retire back upstairs. And sometimes Patton, Virgil and himself could forget to be quiet afterwards so choosing the longer distance was reasonable. Roman finally arrives at the door to the logical side’s room and was about to knock when something catches his eye. Rather it is hard to overlook. Taped to the door is a thin, dark blue folder that stands out against the light brown wood of the door. On the front ‘To Patton, Roman and Virgil’ is written. With furrowed brows, Roman pulls the folder off the door and opens it, scanning the first page before hurrying back downstairs. 

“Guys!” he calls out, halfway down the stairs, apparently interrupting a conversation between the left-behind sides. They don’t look bothered by it however but rather concerned at his sudden re-entrance without the side he was supposed to get. 

“What’s wrong?” Patton asks, voice rising in concern. Roman just hands them the folder. Virgil takes it since Patton seems to be shaking from the nerves and flips it open. The first page was a simple, printed letter that read: 

Good morning fellow sides. 

After the conclusion of yesterday’s discussion, I have decided to finally 

follow through with something I had planned for a while now: 

I am going on vacation. 

In the last few months, following Janus’ acceptance and further involvement 

in our daily lives, the tension in our group has been rising and I must say, 

it figuratively suffocates me. Any attempts to resolve said tension has been 

disapproved of and you continue to disregard my contributions to various 

problems. I cannot work in this environment any longer. I have finished  

Thomas’ schedule for the next two weeks. I did my best to consider your 

and Janus’ previously given advice to ensure that it covers selfcare and  

productivity. If you want to make changes, go ahead but do not complain 

to me if it does not work out as you hoped. I have done my part now. I am 

not sure when I will return but I should not be gone longer than those two 

weeks. Do not summon me unless it is a life-or-death situation. I have  

prepared a place to stay and I am being provided for. I will continue to keep

an eye on Thomas regardless but I do not see any need to appear in person. 

I wish you a pleasant time, 

Logan Logic Sanders 

Silence hung over the three for a few moments. 

“You think he’s pranking us?” Patton finally askes. Roman hums in consideration but Virgil scoffs. 

“Since when is Logan a prankster?” He pulls out the other sheets of paper from the folder. “These are definitely from him; I doubt even Deceit could fake them so accurately.” Truly, the schedule was color-coded and formatted in a manner that was very familiar. Roman pulls the papers out of Virgil’s grasp. He quickly scans it and whistles appreciatively. 

“This really is his best one yet, I must say.” 

“Where do you think he went?” Patton askes, his gaze fixed on the stairs. “He wrote he’s being provided for but what does that even mean?” The other two could immediately tell how worried he was. They exchange a quick glance and Roman puts a hand on Pat’s shoulder. 

“Well, there aren’t many places he could be... Him staying here in the mindscape would defeat the purpose of going on vacation. He could have gone to the dark side but I doubt that, it felt like he’s avoiding Deceit as well and if he’s in the imagination, I should be able to tell but I can’t feel him there...”  

“Where did you find this anyway?” Virgil askes and holds up the folder. 

“It was taped to his door.” 

“So you didn’t actually check his room, right?” Roman brightens. 

“I did not! Great idea, Hot Topic. Let’s go!” He runs back upstairs. 

“How does he have so much energy in the morning?” Virgil groans but he follows after him, Patton in tow. When they arrive upstairs, Logan’s door is wide open and Roman could be heard humming inside. Virgil immediately pales. 

“Princey, what the fu-” He glances at Patton. “-frick are you doing?” he hisses, not crossing the threshold. Roman, who was currently going through the papers on Logan’s desk, shoots him a look. 

“Searching for clues, like you suggested.” 

“I never said that!” 

“You said to check his room!” 

“I meant knock to see if he’s in here, not waltz in and go through his stuff!” 

“Why are you whisper-hissing? Logan’s not here, I already checked his bathroom, closet and under the bed.” 

“Why would you-? Ugh, never mind,” Virgil groans and does cautiously enter the room, followed by Patton who looks around curiously. 

“I haven’t really been in here for ages!” he gasps. Virgil furrows his brows. 

“You go to his room all the time though?” 

“Yeah, sure, to check on him. He doesn’t really invite me in though and I don’t wanna pry...” He takes another look around, this time more apprehensively. “It feels kinda wrong to be in here. Without his permission, I mean.” 

“That’s what I’m saying!” Virgil exclaims, biting at a nail nervously. “C’mon, we verified he’s not here, let’s go.” 

“Verified? Boy, the nerd’s room’s already getting to you, huh?” Roman scoffs and lays back a few papers he doesn’t find interesting. “And we haven’t found any clues yet, leaving would be a waste.” 

“Roman, we are not here to snoop through Logan’s stuff. We just wanted to confirm that he is not here.” Patton scolds, both he and Virgil are already back by the door. Roman rolls his eyes. 

“Hold on, I’m almost done. How is it that I’m the one who’s been in here the longest but I’m the least affected by the room?” he mumbles a bit loudly to not be intentional while checking around the desk. 

“No, Sherlock Homeinvader, we’re leaving,” Virgil insists, presses the folder he was still holding on to in Patton’s hands and goes over to him to drag him back himself as Roman dramatically gasps. 

“What do we have here?” he asks even more dramatically and bends down, grabbing something out of what appears to be Logan’s trash can. Virgil nose wrinkles. 

“Disgusting, dude.” 

“Relax, it’s just a bunch of paper. Well, paper and this!” He holds up a container. A very familiar container. Pickled Poo Logs, Remus’ favored snack. Easily recognizable by his face at the top, though there are dicks doodled over the rest of the label. Virgil immediately snatches it out of his hand. 

“Remus was here?” Patton hesitantly comes over to take a look himself. “Maybe Logan was just curious about it? He gets like that sometimes, you know?” His nervous tone sabotages his attempt at lightening the mood, especially since he doesn’t sound convincing, even to himself. 

“With dicks drawn all over it? No, Nerdy Wolverine would have asked for a clean one,” Roman comments and turns the case over in his hands, inspecting it. 

“You think Remus kidnapped him?” Virgil asks, panicked. 

“Considering the folder, unlikely. Oh, there’s the room’s effect!” Roman hums, pleased. “No, it is unlikely that Logan left involuntarily but he may have been tricked. Remus is an idiot but he’s not totally stupid. And he kind of fixated on our braincell after his introductory video.”  

“What has Remus done now?” calls an exasperated voice from the door. All three of them spin around to see Janus leaning against the doorframe, inspecting his gloved fingers with a small smirk on his lips. Virgil growls at him immediately and Janus rolls his eyes in response. “Oh, yes, please do keep acting like a guard dog, Virgil, it is so becoming of you.” Before he could snap back, Patton lays a hand on Virgil’s shoulder in an attempt to calm him. He continues glaring but falls silent.

“Hello Janus, what brings you here?” Patton asks, trying to sound cheerful but even to Roman and Virgil it sounds forced. It doesn’t fool Janus for even a second.

“I went to the kitchen to make my morning cup of tea and no one else was there as usual so I decided to come up here for no reason at all.” His smirk stays however he seems to eye Patton very carefully who laughs nervously in response.

“Oh, sorry about that. We didn’t mean to worry you.”

“Oh, I wasn’t worried, merely… curious. You lot seldomly break your morning routine, especially Logan, so seeing him in particular absent from this group despite us being all gathered here in his room, I do wonder what is going on. Care to enlighten me?”

“We don’t care to. This is none of your business, leave Deceit!” Virgil practically spits. Janus tuts and shakes his head.

“On the contrary, dear Virgil, if this does indeed involve Remus, it is entirely my business. He has been acknowledged by Thomas, not accepted. It is still a part of my duty to reign him in from time to time. To make sure he does not hurt Thomas’ mental health excessively.”

“Oh yeah, you did a great job of that before the wedding,” Roman scoffs. Janus glares at him.

“In that instance I let him looser than normal precisely to protect Thomas’ mental health in the long run. He was pushing himself too much, acknowledging Remus’ presence was supposed to help him clear his head a little,” he hisses and Virgil snorts.

“That worked out so well.”

“Sssssshhut up!”

“Kiddos! Please, let’s not fight, we have more pressing things to deal with right now!” Virgil and Roman grumble but don’t interject. Janus looks defensive, still glaring at the two of them. “Logan is missing,” Patton continues. “He left us this note but it’s so unlike him, we aren’t sure if we should trust it. While we checked his room, Roman found one of Remus’ deodorants, so we suspect he might be involved somehow.” Apparently deciding to abandon his staring match with Virgil, Janus walks over to Patton and lays a hand on his shoulder.

“I understand the situation. Could I look at the note and the deodorant, please?”

“Oh, sure,” Patton says with a light blush and hands over the folder. Janus quietly thanks him before thumbing through the pages. The letter he looks at last.

“Ah, yes. I did indeed warn him about his habit to overwork himself a few times recently. If he is taking a break, then I am more inclined to let him do so.”

“We don’t want to stop him from taking a break!” Patton hastily clarifies. “We’re just worried about the how. We don’t know where he is or what he’s doing. And if Remus is involved, I don’t know how much of a break he is really getting…” He trails off at the end, staring at his feet. Janus hums and quickly walks over to Roman to pluck the deodorant out of his hands.

“Hey!” The prince protests, but Janus doesn’t pay him any mind. Instead, he looks over the case in his hand. Once he was finished, he drops it back into Roman’s hands who squawks at him offendedly.

“From recent conversations, it did seem like Remus was getting rather attached to Logan and I don’t think they have a bad relationship. It might very well be that Logan asked the Duke for his help in this matter.”

“As if,” Virgil pouts, though he doesn’t sound entirely convinced of that himself. Janus ignores him.

“But if you feel like you need to check then I do have an idea where to look.” Patton beams at him.

“Really? Could you take us? Right now??”

“No way am I going anywhere with that snake!” Roman yells. “He might just be leading us into a trap!” Janus gives him an unimpressed look.

“And why would I do that? My job is to make sure Thomas’ mental health is in good shape. Getting all of you injured, or whatever you imagine I would want to do to you, would be nothing but counterproductive.”

“Like I believe that!”

“Regardless,” Janus says to brush off Roman’s protest who in turn only seems to get angrier, “I am afraid you do not have much of a choice. If the two are where I think they are, then you have no chance of getting there without a guide.”

“I can navigate Remus’ side of the Imagination just as well as my own, I do not need your help, Jack the Fibber!”

“I do not doubt that my prince. However, that place in particular is designed to keep unwanted visitors out. I doubt you would even find it, not to mention getting inside.”

“And what place would that be?” Virgil hisses before Roman can start yelling again.

“The library.”

“Remus… has a library?” Patton asks, doubt clear in his voice.

“No, he doesn’t. The fact that you do not know about it just proves my point. It is one of the most fortified buildings Remus has ever created. The layout constantly changes, there are traps and monsters roaming the halls.”

“If the layout changes, then why do you think you could take us there?” Patton interjects.

“Because there is one path that leads to the actual library within, and I mean only one path. Make one wrong turn or otherwise go off course and you will not find your way out easily. I got lost only once and I do not recommend it.”

“And why should we believe you?” Roman challenges, head raised high. Janus seems amused by his stubborn antagonism.

“I do not care if you believe me or not. You are the ones that want to check on Logan. I am only offering to take you since I had planned to go there soon anyway. And I need to see what Remus is doing from time to time. You can come along or not, it is totally. Up. To. You.” Janus emphasizes the last words by poking Roman lightly in the chest after each syllable, all the while smirking up at him. Roman continues to glare but he couldn’t quite repress the slight flush of his cheeks at Janus’ proximity. The snakelike side laughs lightly before making his way back to the door.

“I will leave after breakfast. You do what you think is right,” he calls over his shoulder before disappearing back down the hallway, leaving the others in silence.

“He has got to be tricking us, right?” Virgil growls after a few seconds. Roman nods in agreement but Patton looks thoughtful.

“I don’t think so. He has no reason to.”

“He’s Deceit, Patton. It’s all he knows.”

“Look, I know you both had your differences with him and I’m still adjusting too, but Janus is an integral part of Thomas, we cannot deny that anymore. I am sure he does not want anything truly bad to happen to any of us, so if this is a trick then it is probably only a small prank.” Virgil and Roman share a look of disbelief but Patton doesn’t stop there. “And besides, what other options do we have? Sit around and hope that Logan is truly okay? Or comb through Remus’ side on our own? Your powers barely work over there Roman, and the place is not small, right?”

“Right,” Roman admits with a sigh after a few seconds of silence. “And I am worried about Nerdy Wolverine, if we don’t do anything about this, I will go stir crazy, so I guess I can try and trust that snake for a bit.”

“Thank you, Ro!” Patton pulls him into a hug, beaming. Roman chuckles and pats his back.

“Yeah, yeah, anything for you, padre.” He turns to Virgil. “Are you going to come along?”

“…Fine,” Virgil grumbles, still clearly unhappy about the situation. “But if it turns out that he’s up to something, I am totally going to tell you ‘I told you so’.” Roman rolls his eyes.

“Sure, whatever makes you happy, Emo Nightmare.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The track through Remus’ side of the Imagination hadn’t been pleasant. The atmosphere was tense and Patton’s attempts to lighten the mood didn’t cheer anyone up. Roman and Virgil did their best to ignore Janus and the deceitful side himself accepted their stubbornness quietly. Only Patton really talked, though even he gave up after a while. Thankfully, they didn’t come across any of Remus’ monsters but the landscape they had to track through was nightmarish enough and won’t be discussed here. Now they stood before their apparent goal.

“This… is it?” Roman asks, doubtfully. The building in front of them is a rather cliché-looking mansion from horror games. It is a wide, stone structure with two floors that seems to have high ceilings. It’s dark and intimidating looking though on closer inspection, the construction style seems to change randomly. A different kind of stone here, another window frame there. Apparently, Remus stitched together different buildings and haphazardly added details wherever it pleased him. For example, the house of Jack Skellington from Nightmare Before Christmas is sticking out of the roof, completely intact but just… there.

What stands out most though, is the glass dome further back on the building. Not because it is the most impressive but because it’s the only thing that is illuminated, emitting a soft yellow glow. All the other windows are pitch black.

“Not satisfied, Roman?” Janus smirks.

“Well, yes. I expected more from my brother’s so-called masterpiece!”

“I definitely called it his masterpiece,” Janus says as he rolls his eyes. “And the interior is the more impressive part. The exterior Remus changes every so often when he gets new inspiration. I think the last remodeling came after Thomas researched that giant lady and the game she’s in.”

“You mean the one you stole your skirt look from?” Virgil smiles, mischievously.

“Yes, because my look wasn’t almost finished by the time Thomas found out about her!” Janus hisses at him with a glare. Virgil shows him his tongue.

“Kiddos, please stop. We’re here for Logan, let’s concentrate!” Patton tries to encourage teamwork but again is not really successful.

“Ugh, fine,” Virgil scoffs and glares at Janus one last time before turning back to the building in front of them.

“Let’s just get this over with. Remus’ side always gives me chills,” Roman complains.

“Very well.” Janus adjusts his gloves before clearing his throat. “Once we enter, as I haven’t told you before, there is one path we need to follow, so I need you to listen to my instructions carefully and let me take the lead. I know it’s very hard for you to go along with other people’s plan but trust me on this one, Roman.” He grins over at the prince whose face is turning red in anger. Before he can explode, Patton steps in.

“No provocation from you either, Janus! If we have to rely on you as you say, then make an effort to be reliable in return!” He leans close to Janus and pouts, giving him his best I’m-disappointed-in-you-and-I-know-you-can-do-better look.

“Alright, alright, I’ll stop as well.” Janus waves him off. “The instructions can be stupidly specific sometimes, at one point we will have to stick to one side of a corridor, for example, but there will also be traps, distractions and monsters. Though – and make sure to remember that – nothing truly dangerous can access the path. So even if something comes charging at us, I need you to stay calm and not run around like headless chickens. I will not save you from your own stupid decisions.”

“Oh yes, so trustworthy. Thank you greatly for your generosity.” Roman rolls his eyes and Patton shots him a slight glare, making him huff but refrain from further comments. Janus ignores him completely.

“Our goal is the dome and usually it should take not over half an hour to arrive there.” Now Roman looks sceptic for a different reason.

“If we just need to get to the dome then can’t we just climb the building and get in from the roof?”

“Oh yes, what a great plan, I can’t believe I have never thought of that before!” Janus exclaims, hand on his heart but quickly drops the act. “The interior and exterior aren’t connected like that. Since Remus shifts the inside around as much, no window or door – other than the main entrance – connect to a specific room. It will just drop you randomly somewhere in the mansion. And as I’ve stated before, that is not something you want to happen. So no, we can’t do this like a heist movie.” Roman looks angry again but doesn’t comment. Patton pats him on the shoulder (which only seems to sour his mood more) before addressing Janus.

“Alright, we will follow your lead.” he says with a smile. Janus nods at him stiffly before moving towards the front door without another word, the others following behind him with tense expressions (though Patton tries, and fails, to hide his).

The door to the mansion is made of a heavy, red wood that Janus pushes open without hesitation. Behind it lies… a rather normal looking entrance hall. There is a long carpet that leads to the grand staircase in the middle of the room. A chandelier hangs from the ceiling and the decoration is tasteful. Or rather, it used to be. As impressive as the hall is, it is rotting away. There’s dust everywhere, as well as spiderwebs and the air is thick and unpleasant.

“This place has so much potential if my brother bothered to take care of it,” Roman huffs as he looks around. Janus doesn’t respond but instead gives more instructions.

“Follow behind me in a line. And please do walk next to each other, that wouldn’t be risky at all.” After saying that, he moves toward the back of the hall, left of the staircase where a door is situated. “Behind here is where the dangerous path starts. Be. Very. Careful,” Janus stresses, looking back at the others who had followed him.

“Will do!” Patton responds, with faux cheerfulness. Roman and Virgil sigh but they do line up. Their marching order is Janus, Patton, Virgil and Roman in the back. The first few hallways and rooms they pass aren’t all that bad. They have a few disgusting gimmicks – bleeding walls, gooey carpets, a mirror that insults you when you stand before it – but nothing too severe. The first truly shocking room (though it really should have been expected, in hindsight) they come across is…

“Is this the playroom from Fifty Shades of Grey?” Virgil asks after they all simply stared at the contents of the room for a few moments.

“Thomas hasn’t even seen that movie!” Roman exclaims, very red in the face. He is also holding Patton’s glasses to protect his purity while Virgil holds his hand while he is effectively blind. Janus shrugs his shoulders.

“The scene has been referenced in enough videos and interviews that we have a basic understanding of what happened in it. And that might have been where Remus got the idea from, but he definitely modified it to be more to his taste. It is a room for BDSM though.”

“How… How do you know that?” Roman asks, still very much embarrassed.

“… Just be grateful that there are no people in here today,” is all Janus is willing to admit before heading towards the door that allows them to continue. The corridor behind it is dimly lit and a few lights even flicker. Janus leads them on confidently, the others follow him back in line and with Patton’s glasses returned to their owner. However, the creepy feeling of the hallway has Patton continue to cling onto Virgil’s hand, who is the side of the group most comfortable with horror. Roman has one hand on his sheathed sword – that he had strapped to his side before they entered Remus’ side of the imagination – and the other has a tight grip on Virgil’s hoodie. The anxious side isn’t very happy about how the two clinging to him limits his movement, but he can understand their worries, so he lets it slide.

“Did you hear that?” Patton squeaks out and for a moment Virgil doesn’t know what he means before a thump echoes down the hallway. They freeze, bringing Roman to a stop behind them.

“What’s wro- “

“Shhhhhh!” The rumbling becomes louder and now Janus notices that they had stopped following. He, unlike Roman can guess as to why so he just waits ahead in slight annoyance. He had warned them before entering, he won’t tell them again. By now Roman had caught on and he grips the sword tightly, ready to draw.

Ahead of them, a monster comes around the corner. It has the body of a gorilla and walks on all fours, but its head is that of a snake and a pair of wings grow from its back. That would have been enough to scare Patton, maybe even Roman, but the most noticeable and gruesome attribute of the monster were its injuries. Maybe it was supposed to be a kind of zombie, since there are large chunks of flesh missing from its gorilla body, other patches lacked fur and again others ooze a liquid that may have been blood if it wasn’t so obviously sticky.

The snake head isn’t fairing much better. It misses some scales and there are a few black spots that might have been burn marks. One of the wings seems undamaged though its partner looks all the worse for it. There are hardly any feathers left and the bones that are now left exposed seem broken in a few places and hang limply in a way that looks very, very wrong.

The monster spots them easily, makes a noise that sounds vaguely like a mix of a hiss and a roar and charges at them. Roman curses quietly and quickly pushes Virgil and Patton behind him. Janus looks unbothered, he is leaning against the wall and waits for it to be over. The monster gains more and more speed (considering the length of the corridor, it doesn’t make sense how long the charge takes), sprinting at them, until – oh so suddenly – it collides with something and crashes to the ground. Roman, Virgil and Patton stare at it with open mouths.

“I told you: as long as we stick to the path, nothing can hurt us,” Janus explains nonchalantly before resuming his way down the corridor, towards the beast that twitches on the ground. The others stare at it a moment longer before they hurry after Janus.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The next few corridors and rooms were not all that difficult. One hallway was filled with spike traps that they had to avoid, and they passed three different torture rooms, all with different equipment. Janus explained that Remus liked to separate them by era and country, so he had, for example, one room filled with torture instruments used in the witch hunts in Germany from 1550 to 1650. And while they weren’t nice to look at, the rooms were empty and so it was left to their own imaginations as to how the instruments might have been used.

The next impactful incident happens in a corridor with a ceiling that falls down and crushes everyone beneath it. To avoid it, Janus told them to stick as close to the right wall of the hallway as possible. Their pace is significantly slower this way but none of them wanted to be squished so they carefully set one foot in front of the other.

“We’re almost there,” Janus calls to the others. The passage isn’t all that long but with the literally looming threat, it sure feels like it.

“Pat, you’re not stepping right,” Virgil hisses and pulls him more to the side.

“Sorry!” the moral side squeaked. “I think my glasses are smudged a bit. It makes it hard to see.”

“Oh, sorry, padre. That might have been me when I held them for you,” Roman apologizes.

“It’s alright, kiddo. I do it myself all the time.”

“Well, better clean them before one of your feet get crushed. Everyone stop!” Virgil commands and though he seems annoyed, Janus complies. Patton gives them an apologetic smile before taking his glasses off to wipe them clean with his shirt as best as he can.

Unable to hold still, Roman shuffles a bit on the ground and that’s when he makes a mistake. One of his feet lands too far away and a click comes from the ceiling. With a whoosh and a bang, part of the ceiling comes down. Virgil startles so bad that he lunges forward a bit, upsetting Patton’s balance and sending him to the floor, taking Janus with him. Thankfully, they don’t trigger another trap, but Patton’s glasses fall to the ground and skitter down the hallway.

“Are you alright?” Virgil asks, frantically, moving to help Patton up.

“I’m fine, but my glasses…”

“Do not worry, I will get them back for you!” Roman proclaims before starting to climb over Virgil and Patton still on the floor to get to the front.

“Watch it, Prince Douche!”

“I am, Emo Bitch!”

“Language!”

Roman manages to get past both of them and Janus before the latter grips his arm to stop him.

“Don’t!” he hisses. Roman eyes him skeptically.

“And why not, oh Great Deceiver?” he mocks.

“Because we need to make a right here! The glasses are off the path!” Understanding blooms on Roman’s face and he looks back towards the glasses, a few feet away from the crossing they need to take.

“I can’t just grab them real quick and come back?”

“No. Once you’re off the path you can’t just turn around. I doubt you’ll even be able to still see us then.”

“It’s okay,” Patton calls from the back. He and Virgil are back on their feet. “I have a spare pair in my room, if you guide me, I’m sure I’ll be fine.”

“Again, I’m so sorry, Padre.”

“Please stop apologizing, it’s really fine, promise!” Patton smiles but his eyes are obviously not focusing on Roman and it’s apparent just how little he can see like this.

“Well, if you’re sure,” Virgil mumbles and leads him forward and into the crossing where they are safe from more falling ceilings.

“It’s not fine,” Janus suddenly speaks up. All eyes turn to him (or where Patton thinks he is). “We’re almost at the library but Remus, as charming as he is, of course made the last stretch the most annoying. Most of the time it’s a ladder we will need to climb with traps all over them to try and get you to fall over and over and over again. I can warn you about the ones I spot but if Patton can’t see them himself, he won’t be able to avoid them properly. We need to get his glasses somehow…”

The three with working eyes pondered for a bit before Roman speaks up.

“I think Virgil might be able to reach if he lays on the ground…”

“Why me?!”

“You’re the tallest.”

“By a few inches at best!”

“Well, those few inches might just be what we need here,” Janus chimes in and Virgil glares at him.

“C’mon, Beetlejuice, you want to get out of here, right? And we can’t leave Patton behind.”

“Really, kiddos, it’s fine! I’ll manage… somehow.”

“Yes, keep saying that, it’s sooo helpful!”

“Don’t take it out on him!”

“Just stop it!” Roman yells over the chaos. “Virgil please. I’ll hold on to your foot, it’ll be fine!” Virgil eyes him for a moment before he sighs.

“Fine but you use that,” he taps against Roman’s sash, “to secure my foot. I don’t trust your milky hands.”

“Milky?!”

“Ugh, just do it!” Janus groans and is met with two glares for his effort but both Roman and Virgil get to work. With the red band firmly bound around Virgil’s shoe and Roman’s hand, the former carefully lies on the floor. Just as he is about to start robbing over to the glasses, a door down the hallway opens and a figure emerges. Virgil stares at it in disbelief.

“Why Pyramid Head?!” Indeed, the creature now slowly making its way toward them, knife dragging across the floor, was the iconic monster from Silent Hill 2. Janus is the first to regain his composure.

“At least he’s slow! Quickly grab the glasses before he gets over there!”

“Easy for you to say- “

“Stop arguing, please,” Patton begs from his position against the wall of the next corridor they would traverse. Virgil grumbles under his breath but makes his way forward. And so does Pyramid Head.

It’s like watching a (very slow) head-to-head race toward the finish line. Robbing forward on his stomach, Virgil is about as fast as Pyramid Head’s walking speed. Inch by inch, Virgil gets closer to the reach of the gigantic knife still dragging along the floor. The creature doesn’t even need to get to him, just close enough to swing its weapon.

Virgil’s ankle leaves the path as he gets close enough to try and reach the glasses. And if Pyramid Head used its blade right now, it might have a chance to hit but still it moves forward, into a position where it is more likely to strike true.

Virgil’s fingertips hit the frame. Just a little bit more. Half of his foot is still within the barrier. Roman has a firm grip on the sash. Virgil’s hand closes around the glasses and Pyramid Head raises his knife to swing down.

“Got them!”

“Janus! Help me pull him back!” Roman calls as he holds Virgil’s shoe with his tied-up hand and places the other on his ankle. Immediately, the other is beside him, grabs onto his arms and pulls. And not a second too late. The knife lands where Virgil’s head had been moments before, and Roman and Janus fall onto their asses while Virgil is trying to catch his breath and to not go into a full-blown anxiety attack.

“What happened?? Are you okay?” Patton calls over, worriedly.

Roman lets out a breathless, unbelieving laugh and collapses onto his back, the adrenaline rushing through him. Which turned out to be good because as soon as his head hits the ground, a click comes from the ceiling once again.

“Shit-!” Quickly Roman rolls to the side before his head is flattened by the trap. He must’ve moved within its range by an inch. Janus stares at him in disbelief.

“How are you alive?”

“I’m too fabulous to die.” The ridiculous response got Virgil to laugh and forget his panic for long enough to calm down.

“Guys?” Again, Patton tries to get their attention.

“We’re all fine, Pat. And I’ve got your glasses, hold on.” Virgil climbs to his feet, wipes the lenses on his hoodie to clean them as best he could before heading over to Patton and pushing them onto his nose. “How’s that?” Patton doesn’t answer, just pulls him into a hug.

“Thanks, kiddo.”

“Um… Sure. No problem,” Virgil mumbles nervously. Patton gives him a smile before looking over to the other two that are in the process of standing up. On the other side of the barrier, Pyramid Head has lost interest and was now moving away again. The sides pay him no mind.

“Well, that wasn’t so bad, right?” Roman comes over to Virgil and Patton with a grin, Janus on his heels.

“Speak for yourself, princey. I’m so ready to get out of here.”

“I’m having so much fun with this. Let’s go, sadly, we’re almost there.” Janus takes the lead once again and the others follow. They pass through one more room, a laboratory of sorts with lots of blood on most of the surfaces (thankfully, the floor is mostly clean), before they enter what seems to be an elevator shaft. And indeed, the only way forward is a ladder.

“How surprising,” Janus mutters under his breath before turning back toward the others. “As I’ve said before, this part is not really dangerous, but pretty annoying. There will be traps to try and get you to fall but even if you do, you will fall slowly. Remus implemented this more as a prank than anything else. I’ll tell you about what I spot but we may need several tries.”

“Okay, we’ll trust you to not let us down,” Patton says with a wink. Janus stares at him with a blank look.

“That was terrible.” Then he starts to climb, Patton after him, then Virgil and Roman is in the back again.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

They do indeed need more than five tries to get to the top. It was especially annoying that Patton fell for the same trap twice, requiring the rest to wait where they were until he climbed up again. Their arms are gonna be sore tomorrow for sure. But they had finally made it.

The ladder ended in another corridor but this one was clean and wonderfully decorated in greens and silver. Portraits line the walls, most of them of Remus himself, but there is one of Janus and one of both together. Most peculiar are two others however. One shows Remus grinning, arm out to the side, probably hugging someone but the other half of the painting is missing. The second is simply an empty frame.

“Self-centered much?” Roman scoffs.

“Oh yeah, like you don’t have at least a dozen different self-portraits in your castle, Prince of Narcissists,” Virgil retorts. Janus doesn’t pay any attention to the banter or the pictures for that matter. He strides ahead with purpose. Patton watches him in concern, but he feels like this isn’t a moment to pry.

At the end of the corridor is an enormous double door, also in green and silver. The handles, however, are made of gold.

“Does he have some sort of obsession with Slytherin or something?” Again, it’s Roman commenting. Janus hisses at him in disdain.

“For your information, he is a Gryffindor, same as you. And his second choice would be Ravenclaw. No, green and silver just happen to be his favorite colors.”

“Jeez, sorry.” Roman holds up his hands in surrender. “What made you so cranky?”

“Please, keep talking.” Janus rolls his eyes. “Let’s just get it over with.” He grabs the handle on one side and pushes, Patton quickly helps him with the other. Slowly the heavy material gives away and swings open. And suddenly their vision is filled with green.

In front of them is a jungle and as they take the first steps in, the humid air hits them. Birds can be heard singing somewhere but none of them are able to spot them. They stand in a clearing, although the tree line that surrounds them is only about ten feet from them. The trees themselves tower over them, their leaves lush and green, vines hanging between them. The ground is littered with bushes and plants and only one way seems to lead further inward, its stones wide and beautiful. As they look up into the sky, they can see the glass of the dome incasing them, the sun beaming down outside. Which was weird since when they had been in front of the building the weather had been quite dreary.

“Are we… really in the right place?” Patton asks, his voice hushed as if he was afraid of breaking the serenity of their surroundings by being too loud.

“Yes, we are. If you look closely, you can see a few shelves on the far side of the dome.” Janus points upward and the others follow his line of sight. Indeed, quite a ways away, they could see some brown structures following the curve of the dome.

“How are the books not falling?” Virgil questions, his eyes squinted to make out anything in the first place. Roman snorts.

“This is the imagination, Doubtful Central. Remus doesn’t want them to fall, so they don’t fall.” Virgil sticks out his tongue at the prince’s condescending tone. Patton lightly scolds them to stop fighting. Janus clears his throat.

“We need to track along the path for a bit until we reach a river. Behind it is the library.”

“And hopefully Logan,” Patton sighs. “I hope he’s okay.”

“I’m sure he is, padre. You know our nerd, he isn’t easy to beat,” Roman jokes, his hand squeezing Patton’s shoulder in support. Patton smiles at him.

“Yeah, you’re probably right.”

“I’m always right!”

“You wish, princey.”

“Kiddos…” Patton almost sounds defeated and Janus pats him on the shoulder in sympathy.

“He used to be like that with Remus, too. It’ll be fine.” Patton nods and gives Janus a grateful smile. He, in turn, gives a nod in acknowledgment back and turns to back to the bickering two. “I hate to interrupt you but one more warning. Watch your feet in there. There are some books that have gone… wild.” The others stare at him a moment.

“He stole the Monster Book of Monsters, didn’t he?”

“… He created something similar at least.”

With a groan from Virgil, the group sets out and follows the path. Even though it is made of stone, there are still quite a few branches and vines to dodge. The jungle isn’t quiet either, various sounds resounding in the air. Rustling in the bushes, noises that might belong to a kind of monkey, the birds’ continuous songs. A collage of different sounds that is almost overwhelming.

Roman keeps one hand on the hilt of his sword in case one of the animals decide to come their way, his eyes scanning the trees continuously. Patton clutches one of Virgil’s hands in his own, both also checking their surroundings nervously. Meanwhile, Janus’ eyes are fixated on the ground.

After they had walked for a few minutes, the tension drops a bit. Most of the jungle’s inhabitants seem to go out of their way on their own without hostility. In that moment, a bush on the right side rustles suddenly, then one to the left and unbelievably quickly, two books shoot out of the greenery and try attacking the groups feet. Patton screams and jumps into Virgil’s arms whose eyeshadow turned a very deep black.

“Just give them a good kick, that usually scares them off!” Janus calls over the ruckus Patton is making, mostly directed at Roman who had unsheathed his sword. He is trying to stab the books, but their binding is quite resistant, and he can’t really get a good hit in. As he hears the call however, he shoots a quick look over to Janus, who has taken a few steps away to protect himself, before swinging his leg with all his might, hitting one book directly into the spine and sending it flying into the canopy.

The second one snarls and turns its attention from Virgil, whose shoe it had been trying to chew through, to Roman, and (again quicker than you would expect from a thing with no legs) darts toward him, in a zig-zag pattern so it wouldn’t suffer the same fate as its companion.

“Shit,” Roman curses, earning a weak ‘Language!’ from Patton who was calming down now that the book wasn’t focused on him and Virgil anymore. Roman tries to land another hit but the book is too fast and lunges forward, most likely to bite him in the leg.

“Oh, no you don’t!” Virgil’s heel digs into the cover, throwing the book back down to the ground. It whimpers and quickly disappears back into the bushes. With heavy breaths does Virgil set his foot back down, Patton still in his arms. Roman whistles.

“Damn, Hot Topic! You’re stronger than I thought.”

“Well,” Virgil shrugs while Patton climbs down, “fight-or-flight, remember?” Roman laughs and pats him on the shoulder.

“Right, right.” They smile at each other for a moment before Patton speaks up.

“Where’s Janus?” Surprised, the three quickly take a look around. The deceitful side was nowhere in sight.

“I knew that slimy snake could not be trusted!” Roman yells angrily. Virgil has a similarly dark look. Patton doesn’t look convinced.

“Maybe he just went ahead? It’s not like there are any other paths we can follow, so he could have just gone ahead to scout for more bad books?”

“You really are too trusting, padre,” Roman scoffs. “But you are right, there is only one path to follow, might as well take it. Turning around now would be pointless anyway.” He and Virgil start walking forward. Patton nervously gnaws at his lip, not liking how this is turning out at all.

They do find Janus not all that far up ahead. He is crouching down in front of a bush, apparently muttering to himself. The path had winded at bit and with the branches in the way they hadn’t been able to spot him earlier. Still, Roman continues to be mad and stomps over to him.

“So now is the point where you try to abandon us?? Just what is your game, snake?!” Janus looks over his shoulder, as calmly as ever.

“Abandoning you was definitely my intention,” he scoffs before turning back around, reaching for something, and standing back up after. When he then turns to face them fully, he is holding a long, yellow snake in his arms that is winding itself around his torso. “This is Jake, I used to keep him in my room, but he took a liking to the jungle, so I let him live here, most of the time at least.” Jake stops his climbing and watches them for a moment, his tongue flickering out.

“Aww!” Patton coos before stepping a bit closer. “Can I pet him?”

“Sure, he doesn’t bite. Most of the time.” But the moral side has already stopped listening, instead stroking the snake’s head which he doesn’t seem to mind at all. Roman, who had been a bit stunned at the sudden animal in Janus’ hands, regains his composure.

“So why did you disappear then?” he demands. Janus shrugs.

“I figured you could handle two books with no actual teeth and Jake called out to me, so I went ahead to find him. There is only one path after all, I doubted you could manage to get lost.” Roman is practically fuming but Patton interjects before he can blow up.

“You can speak with him??”

“Yes. You really think Thomas modeled me after a snake and didn’t give me the ability to speak Parseltongue?”

“Cool!” Patton whispers, staring at Janus with wide eyes, who looks a bit uncomfortable with the sudden attention. He clears his throat.

“Anyway. Jake tells me that Remus is indeed here. And he’s not alone.” Immediately, Virgil’s gaze snaps to him.

“Logan?”

“Most likely. Jake has never met him before, but the description fits.”

“You don’t sound all that sure.” Janus shrugs.

“He’s just a snake. He doesn’t lie to me, but he could be wrong.”

“We should hurry,” Patton says with determination, pulling his hand back. Jake hisses in displeasure from losing the scritches he was receiving. Janus rolls his eyes.

“Come back with me today and I’ll scratch you wherever you like.” That seems to please the snake since he gives another, smaller hiss and continues his winding around Janus until he finds a comfortable position.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

They continue along the path for another few minutes without incident. Some bushes rustled but no more books tried to attack them. Finally, they could hear the sound of rushing water. The river must be near. Unconsciously, they increase their pace until they end up before a cliff, the path just suddenly ending there. The cliff isn’t all that high, only a few feet away from the rushing stream. Some type of fish jumping out of its waters every now and again. The jungle continued to the left and right of them, no bridge in sight.

“Um… How do we get across?” Patton asks, eyeing the drop. Janus takes a second to answer, not focused on the below but the beyond.

“We don’t,” he finally answers.

“What’s that supposed to mean??” Virgil demands, yet again glaring at him. Janus shrugs while he pats Jake’s head, eyes still focused ahead of them.

“This place is one of Remus’ most treasured places and there are times when even he wants to be left alone. If he doesn’t want anyone to come here, he simply removes the bridge. There is nothing we can do.”

“So we made this entire trip for nothing?!”

“I wouldn’t say that. Look.” Janus points ahead. The others reluctantly follow his gaze. None of them have really focused on the other side yet, too preoccupied with trying to go further.

A few more trees stand along the cliff but way less dense than on their side. The path continues for a few more feet before it ends at the steps of a lightly raised wooden platform, the true start of the library. Behind a reading area, rows and rows of bookcases tower, each row bigger than the one before it until the ones merging with the wall that reach way, way higher, following the curve of the dome and still somehow letting the natural light from outside shine through.

What Janus was referring to, however, is the aforementioned seating area. Among the few tables and chairs, are some sofas, beanbags, stools, and various other seating opportunities, all in different styles and colors. Because of course Remus would never settle on one theme alone. Only one of those seats was currently occupied though.

Lying on a chaise longue, turned towards them, with a book in his hand and a steaming cup on a small table beside him, is Logan. Seemingly without a worry, their nerd is relaxed and reading. Without looking away from the pages, he reaches over, takes the cup and sips whatever drink it contains before placing it back down without a second though. It seems like their worrying had been unnecessary.

“He looks fine, right?” Virgil says, though he sounds rather nervous, and he raises his thumb to bite at the nail. Patton instinctively stops him.

“That’s good, right?” he adds, also not sounding quite convinced. Janus watches their reactions without commenting. He hadn’t been worried about the logical side, he just wanted to avoid the others working themselves up over the next few days with their wild theories.

“It is too early to say yet!” Roman proclaims. “That could just be an illusion to fool us. To let our guard down! I will not leave until I spoke with him in person.”

“Nobody said anything about leaving though?” Virgil mutters. Roman ignores him.

“But we can’t reach him,” Patton objects. “How do you wanna do that?”

“Hmm…” Roman hums and takes another look at the raging water below them. “It’s not that far across. If I jump far enough, I’m sure I could make it. And I’m an excellent climber and swimmer!”

“I would advise against that,” Janus speaks up, Roman immediately eyeing him suspiciously.

“And why is that? Huh?”

“Oh, my mistake. I assumed you would be able to recognize piranhas when you see them.” Quickly, Roman’s eyes flickered back to the river and the fish still jumping out of it occasionally. “I’m also pretty sure Remus put some sharks in there just because he could. And I mean the bloodthirsty kind.” Patton’s face is now white as chalk and Virgil had a firm grip on Roman’s sleeve.

“Fine, fine!” the prince exclaims. “No swimming, I get it!” He gestures widely and Virgil lets go of him, turning away, his ears pink in embarrassment. “Then I guess we have no other choice!”

“And what choice would that be?” Janus asks, eyebrow raised. Roman grins at him before cupping his hands over his mouth and yelling at the top of his lungs:

“LOGAN! OVER HERE! HEY! ACROSS THE RIVER!” The other three slap their hands over their ears, glaring at the prince. Roman doesn’t quiet down however, until Logan obviously takes note of them. Then he switches to waving widely. Janus rubs his temples; he has had about enough for today. Patton joins in on the waving though less enthusiastically. Virgil buries his hands in his pockets and shrinks back.

Logan does not look happy to see them. Not that they could make out much from the distance in terms of facial expressions, but he had gone stiff once he realized what was happening. He bookmarks his page before setting the book down and stands up. He turns away for a moment and Janus thinks he can hear him calling out to Remus, but the rushing of the water makes it hard to be sure. Afterwards, Logan makes his way over to them, down the steps and toward the edge of the cliff where he stops. Now they could make out the frown on his face more clearly.

“What are you doing here?” he calls over, sounding displeased. Roman hesitates to answer because of his tone, so Patton speaks up instead.

“We were worried about you, kiddo! You just up and vanished and we didn’t know where to!”

“I am aware, that was intentional. Did you not find the folder?”

“We did, but we weren’t really sure if we could trust it,” Virgil explains. Having to yell over the sound of rushing water quickly became annoying.

“What do you mean, you weren’t sure if you could trust it?” Logan frown deepens but before one of them could answer, Remus appears behind him suddenly.

“Boo!” he yells, grinning all the while. Logan rolls his eyes but doesn’t react further. Roman stiffens, Patton bites his lips and Virgil buries deeper into his hoodie in displeasure. Janus is standing to the side, petting Jake, and acting like this situation doesn’t involve him.

Remus cackles at their reactions before saying something to Logan and summoning what appears to be a soundboard. He lowers a few regulators and immediately their surroundings quiet down. The river now sounds distant, like the cliff just became a few miles deeper than before, the rustling of the leaves falls quiet, as do the birds. The surreal situation stuns all of them for a moment.

“There! That’s better, right?”

“Thank you, Remus,” Logan says before turning back to the others, not having to yell anymore. “Now please continue your explanation of why you did not heed my instructions?”

“Well, um…” Patton tries to find the right words, but before he can, Janus speaks up.

“Remus, please unmute your brother.” Everyone turns to look at Roman whose face is red and seemingly trying to yell but no sound comes out. Quickly all eyes turn back to Remus who is pouting.

“Do I have to?”

“If you don’t want them to continue assuming that you kidnapped our dear Logan over there, than you might want to consider not annoying them, yes,” Janus shrugs, apparently not really caring whether Roman gets his voice back or not. Logan raises an eyebrow and shifts his focus back toward his fellow light sides.

“You assume I was kidnapped?”

“It all happened so suddenly; we didn’t know what to think!” Patton tries to explain, eyes jumping between Logan, Roman and Remus. “Please give him his voice back,” he begs after a moment of Logan glaring at them, obviously not happy with the answer.

“But-!” Remus starts to whine before Logan puts a hand on his arm and in a low tone says: “It will only make this take even longer. Please just do it so we can get this over with?”

“Ugh, fine!” Remus groans before flicking one regulator back up but not to full volume.

“You stinking rat, I’ll run you through with my sword!” Roman yells, or at least tries to, only managing to raise his voice a little louder than his normal speaking tone. He glares at his brother when he realizes this, who flips him off in return.

“Stop fighting, kiddos, please.”

“He started it!” Roman protests but Patton just shrugs.

“And we came here without permission. Plus, we’re here to talk to Logan, not to antagonize Remus.” The prince clicks his tongue but doesn’t say any more. Remus laughs.

“Yes, listen to your Daddy, Ro-bro! Or you might get spanked later!” Logan squeezes his arm that he was still holding on to and frowns at him.

“You stop starting fights as well, Rem. I just want them to leave.”

“You know how to shut me up,” Remus grins and wiggles his eyebrows. Logan simply gives him an unimpressed stare. After a few seconds, he drops the grin and sighs. “Fine, fine. You deal with them, and I’ll go play with Bruce.” He summons his tentacles before diving into the river below. Patton gasps.

“Is he okay?!”

“He’s fine. It’s his realm so nothing he creates here will do him harm unless he wants it to,” Roman reassures, almost too quiet. Regulating his volume is going to be hard for a bit and he already looks annoyed by it. Patton nods at his reassurance before turning back to Logan.

“Where were we, kiddo?” The logical side, who had also followed Remus’ decent with his eyes, looks back up and returns to frowning.

“You were attempting to explain why you assumed I was kidnapped despite me leaving clear instructions to prove the contrary.”

“It was just very unlike you, Lo,” Virgil chimes in, still deeply buried into his hoodie. “You didn’t say anything beforehand, and we thought Deceit or the Duke might have forged the folder.”

“Exactly! And then we found my brother’s atrocious deodorant case in your trash and…” Roman trails off as he realizes what he just said.

“You… went through my trash?” Logan is now undoubtedly seething, glaring at them with cold eyes.

“Well, you see…” Roman tries to explain with a nervous laugh, scratching the back of his head. Patton looks just as likely to come up with an excuse, so Virgil speaks up again.

“I asked Princey over there to check if you were in your room or not. He took that as an invitation to go snooping.”

“Very helpful, Doom and Gloom!”

“Well, it was your fault!”

“And you didn’t have to tell him that!”

“So,” Logan interrupts, voice calm but so icy that the others shiver, “let me make sure I understood this right. You found my notes and instead of trusting me and my ability to decide for myself, your first thought was that I was some damsel in distress that needed rescuing? And in your attempt to be the heroes once again you invaded my privacy as well?!” He continually got louder and louder, clearly very much angry.

“Logan, calm down, we just-“ Patton tries to interject but Logan continues, probably not even noticing that the other had spoken.

“You trust me so little, that you cannot even consider that I make decisions for my own well-being without consulting you? After pushing me aside again and again, you concluded that I cannot take care of myself? I have listed reasons for my decision in the letter I left you. Did you even consider those? Or did you assume that I would continue to let you figuratively walk all over me?” Logan takes a few deep breaths, the others stunned into silence. Once he feels like he is back in control of himself, the logical side continues, in his normal speaking voice.

“To me it is obvious that our current co-existence is neither beneficial to Thomas nor ourselves. We continue to figuratively turn in circles and no issues are truly being resolved. We all are stressed out, which makes finding a compromise even more unlikely. I had discussions on this topic with both Janus and Remus, as well as smaller conversations with all of you, if you cared to remember. And the conclusion I reached in the end was that we needed to take a step back and reevaluate. So, in order to do that, I asked Remus to help me arrange a place to stay for a few days to give us all time to reflect. He ended up inviting me here, to his library and I decided to extend my original idea into a vacation. I assure you, this all happened through my own volition.” With his arms crossed, he stares at the others, apparently awaiting an answer. Patton was the first to find his voice.

“We’re so sorry, kiddo. To us it was just a very sudden turn of events and we panicked. We should have trusted you more.”

“I trust him!” Roman huffs. “It’s Deceit and my brother that I don’t trust!” He points a finger accusingly towards Janus, who had continued to silently watch from the side and now raises an eyebrow but doesn’t comment. Roman addresses Logan directly. “You said you talked with them about your plan but how do you know that it wasn’t part of theirs all along?!”

“Their plan to do what exactly?”

“To drive us apart, obviously! Ever since that snake showed up, we keep fighting! It must be his fault; he wants us to not trust each other so that he can influence Thomas!” Roman’s rant was undermined by his inability to truly raise his voice and none of the others seem convinced. Not even Virgil. Logan sighs.

“I understand that Janus’ past action have hurt you, Roman, but you need to accept that he is not the villain you make him out to be. He is doing his best to protect Thomas, as we all do. And he is not always in the right, none of us are. As much as I hate admitting it, my plans and wishes for Thomas are not always the answer either, which is why I try to incorporate your suggestions into my planning. But since you all seem to refuse to acknowledge my contributions in the same way, Thomas ends up neglecting his responsibilities. I would not let Janus make all the decisions, but he deserves to voice his opinions as much as the rest of us.”

“But he lured you away!”

“As I’ve already said, the decision was mine alone. Janus was the one who brought the idea of a vacation up to me first, that is true, but I was the one to decide to ask Remus for help and not discuss it with you beforehand.”

“And why didn’t you?” Virgil chimes in. Logan glances at him before turning his eyes toward the sky.

“I was trying to avoid this exact conversation. I am tired of justifying myself to you all. I needed a break, somewhere you cannot easily get to. As I’m sure you have noticed on your way here, this library is exactly what I was looking for. I am frustrated, maybe even angry with you. I raised my voice against you earlier, which I did not want to do but I just cannot hold back anymore. I need this distance from you for a while. I need to sort out my” – he stops and bites his lips for a moment before continuing – “feelings and I do not have the room or time to do so properly while in the mindscape with you all. I had hoped that I would be able to explain this to you when I came back but you couldn’t wait, apparently.”

“And you expect us to trust them in the meantime?” Roman growls, again pointing towards Janus and then down towards the river where Remus disappeared to. Logan glares at him.

“No, Roman. I expect you to trust me for once. I can take care of myself, I can defend myself against your brother and I can do so better than you, as we all have seen before.” Roman goes red in the face and tries to retort, but Patton holds him back.

“Enough. Logan’s right, we’re in the wrong here.”

“But padre-!”

“No buts, mister.” A giggle is heard from down below. “We jumped to conclusions and came here without permission. Logan is allowed to make his own choices and while I’m not happy about it either, we should trust him.” He pats Roman on the shoulder before turning back to Logan. “Then I hope you have fun, and we’ll see you soon, okay?” He said it with a smile, but Logan frown deepens.

“Stop patronizing me, Patton. I am the same age as you and it’s demeaning. I do not need your permission to stay here.”

“I didn’t mean to… I’m sorry, I- “ Patton stutters, embarrassed and not able to meet Logan’s eyes. Virgil sighs.

“Let’s just get out of here. We all have a lot to think about, apparently.” Roman clicks his tongue but doesn’t argue. Patton nods and stares at the ground. “Hope you have a nice break, Lo. See ya.”

“That is the plan. Please leave now,” is all Logan says before turning away and going back to his book. Janus claps his hands together, gathering the attention of the others.

“Follow me, there is a shortcut out of here.”

“Let me guess, it only works one way?” Roman huffs, his voice still quieter than he’d like. The effect would likely only disappear once he’s out of Remus’ territory.

“Very clever, my prince,” Janus says and claps his hands again, this time in mock applause. “100 points for Gryffindor.” Roman glares at him but even he has lost the will to continue their arguments.

The group makes their way back in silence, through the jungle, down a hidden elevator off to the right of the gallery, out a side door of the building and back towards the mindscape. Patton is the only one who glances back towards Logan before he is obscured by the foliage of the jungle, but the logical side is already back on the chaise longue, drinking his still hot beverage.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Due to the sounds still being muted, Logan could clearly hear the ‘ding’ of the elevator, signaling the departure of the others. With a sigh he puts the book down that he had only pretended to read. He takes off his glasses and rubs his eyes tiredly. What an ordeal this has been. After setting his glasses back in place, he takes another sip of his tea – which never cools thanks to Remus’ powers. Speaking off, wet slapping sounds reverberate through the air as the Duke makes his way over to Logan, dripping wet from his impromptu bathing session.

“So, how is Bruce?”

“Fine! He tried to bite my leg off, but he only got a few scraps of flesh!”

“Are you going to heal it or do you want me to bandage it?” Remus grins and with a snap he removes his damaged pants, at least from mid-thigh down. He knows Logan’s comfort zones and nudity wasn’t one of them. At least not yet. The logical side sighs as he summons a first aid kit. “Why am I not surprised?”

“’Cause you know I like it when you bondage me!”

“You mean ‘bandage me’, correct?”

“I know what I said.” Logan rolls his eyes and starts examining and dressing Remus’ wounds which, while bleeding, were all pretty superficial. For a few moments, he worked in silence, but as usual with Remus around, that didn’t last long.

“Felt good, right?”

“I do not know what you are referring to.”

“Pff, don’t bullshit me, Lolo. You know exactly what I mean.”

“Fine, but I do not wish to comment on whether I found it satisfactory or not.”

“You can be such a prude.”

“That may very well be, but I do not see how that relates to our topic.”

“Do you wanna talk about it or not?”

“I am… unsure.” Logan finishes dressing the last wound, cleans the kit up before vanishing it away. Then he sits next to Remus with a sigh. “I do feel a bit better, having said what needed to be said but I also feel like I was too harsh with them.” Remus hums a moment before answering.

“Nah, I think they needed to hear it, ‘specially Daddy-o. He’s been treating not only you but Virgin as well like kids and he needs to stop or you’ll never get anywhere. Breaking out of your mold is exactly what you need, and they need to accept that.” Logan nods along but doesn’t look all that convinced.

“I am aware, but it still feels” – he grimaces at the word – “weird. I don’t know how to describe it.”

“And that’s fine, Specs! You only just accepted that you have feelings, it’s gonna take a bit to figure them out. And dear Tomathy is in a weird place at the moment anyway, so it’s double confusing.”

“I am exhausted.”

“No wonder. Wanna take a nap?”

“Are you going to dry off first?”

“Ugh, fine. But only for you, Nerdy Wolverine!”

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captaindodson · 3 years

Text

7AM confessions (t.h oneshot)

Synopsis: You just finished working a graveyard shift at your summer job. Just as you’re about to get into your car to leave to sleep the weekend away, a familiar face appears to confront you on what happened.

Paring: Tom Holland x Gender Neutral!Reader

Word Count: 2.4k+

Warnings: Angsty (?), Swearings??

Once your apple watch displayed 7 AM you knew the long week you had was finally over. The assembly line filled with car parts ready for inspection remain still and untouched as everyone switches off with the next group of shift workers who are already coming onto the floor. Luckly, its Friday, so you get to sleep the weekend away and reset your sleep schedule for your last week of shifts before the fall semester starts. You tidy up your small station and when you think you’ve done enough you turn around to leave and then you see your co-worker/work friend Raj approaching. You both wear matching white hard hats, blue gloves, white jackets, dark blue work pants, and brown steal toed boots.

“Hey, how was this morning,” Raj stops a few feet away and raises his hand to fist bump and you happily reciprocate before sliding your hands into your jacket pockets.

“It wasn’t a bad night, Lauren didn’t come in tonight cause she was sick with a stomach bug. Oh I did finally registered for my university courses during my break, and I got so lucky with my extra circulars.The moment I went to register there was only one spot left for the ones I wanted.”

Raj just nods and glances around the work station, inspecting to see you cleaned it to his standard. You notice his wandering eyes but you aren’t bothered by it. You’ve been in that position where you have to work a long eight hours on your feet and the person before you at your assigned station leaves it a mess and you’re stuck cleaning it for the first hour of your shift. So after he finishes inspecting he meets your eyes and nods in approval.

“Oh shit really? I should probably do that sooner rather than later. I’ve been going to university for three years and I almost always forget every time to register on time,” He replies.

“Don’t you have your final research seminar and reading seminar this year? I thought certain classes had a small capacity?”

“Oh. Well guess what I’m doing during my lunch break,”

You lightly laugh at him as the sound of a warning buzzer echoing through the factory floor goes off. You look around and see that most, if not all of your night shift people are already off the floor and you take this as your cue to leave.

“Anyway, talk to you later Raj,” he gives you small smile in response and steps around you to get started. You make your way off the floor and to your designated locker, providing some of the people from dayshift a warm smile as you walk past them.

You walk through a pair of white double doors which leads into a a bright baby blue hallway which eventually guides you to where the designated bathrooms are with the lockers. When you get to the end of the hall you turn left and head into the female washroom where the you’re met with an empty room. Usually, when everyone’s shift ends they’re rushing to get out (and you’re no exception). You would normally find yourself squeezing by people and dodging elbows trying to get to your locker but today is different. Staying behind for an extra few minutes to talk actually lets you take your time for once. By taking your time it also means the parking lot won’t be backed up as usual and you can drive home without any major delay to sleep your weekend away. That’s the only thing you have to look foreward to, your bed because there is no one at home, no roomates, no pets, no boyfriends, no nothing. The place you were at two months ago was totally different from where you are now. You lived abroad in London with your then boyfriend for six months until you broke it off because you were lost.

You had to get out because your identity slowly became tightly intertwined with the person you were with. Everything revolved around them and their job and you were going no where in life. Your dreams were pushed to the back of your mind as you stayed in fancy hotel suites, alone waiting for your ex-boyfriend to come back from an exhausted day on set to only desperately try to keep his eyes open when you two watched a movie or went out for a night on the town.

He really did try his best to make your time with him exciting even if he was burn out from working all day. He made small dates in your hotel room feel magical. He had your hotel room decorated in fairy lights and planned a romantic dinner looking over the city you two stayed in. He made love to you in the early hours of the morning to the organy rays of the morning sun. Or another time, when he wasn’t allowed to leave the hotel at all, he took you to the hotel roof to slow dance under the stars to music playing from that headphones you two shared. You’d pay a million dollars to experience these small moments over and over again.

Over a weekend back in London by yourself while Tom had to catch a flight last minute to do film re-shoots in LA, you decided to have a self-care night. After lighting some candles, ordering take-out, dimming the lights, and scrolling through Netflix to finally find a good-feel show, you finally sit comfortably on the couch and relax. You found a generic rom-com from the 2000’s that looked mildly interesting and even if the plot wasn’t any good you could still get a good laugh about it.

As the movie progresses and the main character struggles to choose between a boy and her dream job you find your mind slowly loosing focus with what is happening on the screen and reflecting it back into your own life. After a few seconds pondering you realize something, had no idea what you wanted to do. You were in your early twenties, you were doing school part-time online with a program you liked but you spent most of your time with Tom. Traveling to country to country to join him while he filmed, staying in hotel rooms waiting for him, sometime visiting set when you were allowed too, it was truly an exciting and calming lifestyle.

Even though you believed you finally found the guy that you could spend the rest of your life with, a second family you got along with, a place you could see yourself settling down in, you didn’t have anything for yourself. When you thought you of trying to return to in-class schooling with a larger course load and renting a place for the semester and trying to sustain a long-distant relationship with someone in the limelight, it just stressed you out. You knew it wouldn’t be easy and just seeing how deflated Tom looked when he returned to you after working, you knew the relationship would push him to his limits.

Even after initiate moments you realized how tired and over worked he was. The look in his eyes when he had to leave for work the next morning couldn’t go unnoticed. You felt your heart squeezing itself and your breathing became heavier. You would never want to cause Tom any pain on your behalf, and you can’t continue to drag your feet with your education because you felt like you . So, you did what you did best, shut someone out and leave. You made up lie about how this relationship wasn’t working on your end, broke it off and flew back to the town where you had been attending school online. Scrambling enough money together to buy a used car and a small studio apartment and apply to as many jobs as you could. You got lucky, that when you were applying that a car factory needed more summer students and they were paying their workers a decent living wage and you just jumped on it. The job helped you get settled but it also helped ignore the small amount of regret you felt. It is too late to turn around now and now you must live with your choices.

You shake yourself out of a daze you didn’t realize clouded your mind, and it seems your feet have carried you to the front of your small grey locker. It looks like what all typical high school lockers look except half the size. You raise your hand to the lock to do one full twist to the right, one full twist to the left, and half a twist to the right again and my the lock pops off with a light pull.

You reach in to collect your phone, black spring jacket, dark blue water bottle, then you reach into your jacket pocket to fish out your car keys. You hum in satisfaction when you feel the cool metal of your keys in your pocket. You drape your jacket over your arm as you shut the locker quietly and slide the lock over the hook and push it shut. You proceed to continue to follow the baby blue hallways until you’ve reached the double glass doors of the exit. You push open the glass door and is met with a cool morning breeze also paired with a peach colored sky.

You make your way across the concrete of the parking lot, following the line of different coloured cars parked next to each other, eyes wandering at the different licence plates, soaking up the calmness of the morning sun until you stop dead in your tracks. You look up to see someone leaning on the hood of your car. This person is dressed in some blue jeans, a black hoodie, dark red hat, and it seems they’re just casually looking down and scrolling through their phone unaware of your presence a couple feet away. You think for a minute before speaking, should you just walk back inside and get someone to confront this guy or should you just do it yourself? I mean it is your car in a private parking lot, someone will hear you scream right? After a few seconds go by you just say fuck as the longer you stand here the less time you get to spend sleeping.

“Ah hem, excuse me you’re leaning on my car. Can you please get off,”

You keep your distance and tightly grip your waterbottle. Just so you have a head start if you need run back into the factory or even defend yourself. Their fingers stop scrolling, but their gaze is still facing downwards, hood and hat hiding their features.

“Uh hello, you need to get out of this parking lot its a private. Ill call security if you don’t move, ”

You shallow nervously as the figure stays still, unresponsive. When it seems like this figure is just going to continue to ignore you they stand up abruptly causing you to jump.

“Hi Y/N,’ An english accent comes out from the hood and your expression changes from fear to dread in seconds. Heart still pumping fast in your chest and you feel yourself getting even more nervous.

“What are you doing here, Tom”, You cross your arms the best you can and start staring at your feet to avoid eye contact.

“Can’t I come visit my girlfriend after she finishes work,” Tom questions as his foots steps get louder as they get closer.

“I am not your girlfriend remember. Besides the point, how do you even know where to find me. I haven’t talked to you in two months.”

‘You left without a much of explanation. You said when I came home from LA that this was over because you couldn’t handle this relationship, it stressed you out to much. I thought everything was going good mutually good in all aspects of the relationship, but I guess I was wrong. After months of trying to unravel what I could have possible done wrong, I just had to find you and get the truth of why you left,”

He ignores your question as he bends his knees to try and get a look at your face. Your mind almost speeds up, unable to come up with a good enough half-assed response, you mouth blurts out the truth without much thought.

“I love that you’re able to pursue your dreams, and god Tom I wouldn’t want you to do anything to compromise that. But I want to be able to pursue my dreams too Tom. The only way I can do that is if I leave and doing a long-distant relationship hardly ever works out for anybody! I don’t want you wearing yourself out because of me and being long-distance was going to tear you apart,”

You sniffle away the tears building up in your eyes while focusing on the curves on the concrete.

“Darling, why didn’t you just talk to me? I would and do understand if you want to pursue something on your own. I would never want to settle for anything less. “

He reaches out a finger to find a place under your chin to lift your head gently so your eyes will meet. You glossy eyes meet his soft, gentle brown eyes and that alone makes you want to cry. You never meant to cause pain to reach those eyes, you just thought you were doing yourselves a favour.

“Baby, we could’ve done this together you know that. We would’ve never survived our first year together if we didn’t talk stuff out. Trying to make a relationship work with a person I’ve loved since our first date is worth the endless amount of stress life causes. Y/N, my darling, I would do anything to make you happy but also stay in my arms forever,”

His soft tone makes your knees weak and that is when the dam of tears breaks from your eyes and they flow down your cheeks.

“I’m sorry. I-I just thought I was doing the right thing for both of us. I was watching a movie and I started stressing my sell-out and just thinking for myself .I’m sorry I put you through this, I know I can’t turn back time, but please forgive me for causing you any pain because my love for you got me all fucked up, “ You say trying wipe away the salty tears dripping down your face.

“I’m not mad nor am I upset with you. I’m just glad I can have you back in my life again.”

Tom smiles even bright as he pulls lightly on the hand he has a hold of to drag your body over to his. He embraces you into his warmth and your body curls into him and all you can think is there is no place you’d rather be.

“Now, why don’t we go back to your place and catch up on some sleep huh? Then you can give me tour around your new place and make up for lost time,”

He hums into your hair as you pull back from his embrace to look up, wiping your eyes with your sleeve to look at Tom more clearly.

“Yeah, I’d like that”.

#tom holland imagine #tom holland angst #tom holland x reader #tom holland imagines #tom holland drabble #dodson writing #Tom Holland x gender neutral reader #tom holland fanfic #tom holland fanfiction

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hpfannons · 3 years

Note

Oh la la! Thats a fine choice of specimen. Thank you. :) lol. I only ask about the jealousy thing because I remember that Dick said one time that they only get to see him 2 months a year or something... I probably meant the batfam side i guess... lol but its good most Harry’s friend are okay or just roll with it... maybe I should asked some batfam moments during their stay in order hq... I really love that scene where Harry was on Dick’s lap and and the rest are just with them... I kinda want a scene with the same feeling...if you dont mind. xD thank you very much! glad to hear ur answer about fudge and umbridge. thank you so much... im really immersed in this au... looking forward to part 7. >_< thanks and stay safe y’all.

Glad you like my batfam! My best friend and I spent way too long going back and forth on people we could agree on for different characters (I think Tim and Alfred were the hardest… but it was years ago, so don’t quote me on that lol)

Sorry about the jealousy thing though, miscommunication on my part. I blame that for answering at 3 am on my phone XD

Yes, there is a lot of buried jealousy with the Batfam. Though surprisingly, most of it comes from Harry. That’s mostly because all these new family members come in while he’s at school, so it kind of feels like they’re all much more close knit with each other than with him because he’s not there for the large portion of the year.

They’re all happy to include him and catch him up with things he missed while he was at school… But there are some things you just have to be there in the moment for, because retelling the story just isn’t quite the same.

That’s not to say that the rest of the Batfam don’t have the same feelings as well, I think I’ve mentioned before that Tim and Harry especially are very close (actually best friends, on the same level as Harry and Ron) so Tim is definitely one of those people who feels Harry’s lost during the year the most.

Add on the fact it’s not really that easy to keep in touch with him while he’s at school, and it really is just hard on everyone.

As a side note, I fully believe the family would find some kind of way to make alterations to a communicator that will work at Hogwarts. Considering how many people who both use magic and have been involved with the Justice League in some way or the other, I find it hard to believe they haven’t found a work around for the whole magic screws with tech problem. At the very least, Harry would have a way to check his email from family, b/c making Headwig carry letters from Scotland to New Jersey and back is just cruel.

As far as the Batfam hanging out around 12 Grimmauld Place… They’re trying to be as non-confrontational as possible, even if there’s still some ruffled feathers from the first night. So the boys mostly go along with helping clean out the place under Molly’s orders - Jason was originally kind of prickly about it because he’s not a child (certainly not her child), so he found getting ordered around kind of insulting… Until his inner clean freak won out and yeah, this place does need a lot of work. Alfred has taught them all well, and it shows.

Tim mostly hauls himself up in the library when he can get away from clearing out pixies and de-gnoming the garden. He’s got like four notebooks full of information and Ron is a little shocked to find out Harry wasn’t kidding when he said Tim was worse than Percy and Hermione together when it came to information gathering.

Damian has less than stellar people skills at the best of times, and here he’s decided he doesn’t care very much for anybody over the age of seventeen (that’s not family anyway), so most of Dick’s time has been dedicated to keeping the youngest away from most of the Order. Not that he really blames him, Dick isn’t nearly as vocal about it as Damian, but he is also just completely done with all of them. He’s only playing nice because they’re here for Harry.

Bruce has also posted himself up in the library, reading everything he can get ahold of in regards to the history of the wizarding world trying to understand exactly what he’s son has gotten wrapped up in. Because lord knows nobody in this house is going to explain it to him… At this point he’s about one wrong comment away from telling them exactly where they can shove their ‘muggle’ excuses.

There was one notable evening though, when the boys as well as the Weasleys and Hermione were just hanging out in a parlor or sitting room or whatever it was supposed to be. Jason had been messing around with an old radio he found the other day and between him and Tim, they managed to get it working. The minute they recognized Britney Spears’s voice, there were four sets of eyes immediately on Dick who gave all of twenty seconds of resistance before he was up and dragging people along to dance with him. The impromptu party had ended up going on for hours, Tonks getting roped into the fun with them while Sirius and Remus smiled fondly from the doorway. Molly made a passing comment about bedtime, but didn’t argue back when that was quickly shot down by the other adults. Let the kids be kids while they could.

As far as soft moment’s for the Batfam… there are two that really come to mind, though they’re kind of sad though.

The first is really kind of short, but it’s after the battle of Hogwarts, and Harry’s come back from his final fight with Voldemort, and there’s just people everywhere in the great hall, but Harry knows exactly where he’s going. Bruce is standing to the side, watching while Jason’s getting patched up, and trying to keep an eye on his other kids as well. Everyone's a little banged up and bruised, but they’re all alive, and that’s the important part right now.

And then he sees Harry and there’s this almost tangible sense of relief because now all of his kids are present and accounted for, and Bruce feels like he can finally breathe again. And Harry just like collapses into Bruce who has to scramble a little bit to catch him, but then just stands there and holds him, because Harry is just completely exhausted mentally, physically, and emotionally. And all Bruce hears is “I want to go home Dad.”, and honest to god Batman almost starts crying in the middle of the great hall in front of everyone.

The other is after the Triwizard Tournament, and everything with Mad-Eye Crouch, when Harry’s in the hospital wing. Everyone’s standing around trying to figure out what the hell just happened, and Harry wakes up still kind of groggy from whatever Madam Pomfrey gave him to knock him out, and he ends up breaking down crying in front of everyone.

Dick doesn’t even hesitate, he’s on Harry before the first tear even really starts rolling and just tucks him into the crook of his neck and let’s him cry it out. Except Harry’s been traumatized and he’s like full-on sobbing, almost wailing, and that just stabs everyone straight through the heart. Tim’s next, doesn’t say anything, just sits down behind Harry and tucks himself up against his brother’s back. Damian and Jason join in as well, Damian sitting on Harry’s other side and just quietly putting his head on Harry’s shoulder; while Jason sit’s down a little farther away, reaching out to put a hand on the back of Harry’s neck. Bruce is standing on the other side of the bed, and just runs a hand through Harry’s hair while they let him get it out and calm down.

And once he’s down to hiccups and kind of stuttery breaths, Dumbledore says something about leaving him be, and if looks could kill… Jason’s still armed, and he almost, almost goes for the gun. Bruce head’s it off at the pass though, saying he’ll go with them to discuss things further and also inform the league about what’s happened, but the rest of the boys will be staying.

Madam Pomfry insists on dosing Harry again, and after some reassurances that his brother’s aren't going anywhere, they get him to drink the potion. That’s as far as they indulge the mediwitch though. Tim and Damian both try to settle down in the bed on either side of their brother, though after some jostling around and being unable to really fit two teenagers and a ten year old comfortably in a hospital cot; Dick and Jason move another bed over flush against Harry’s and Dick manages to coax Damian into it with him, as long as the younger is able to keep hold of Harry’s arm. Jason retakes the seat he’d pulled up to the bedside, kick’s his feet up on the cot and settles in to keep watch over the lot of them for the night. And that is exactly where and how Bruce finds them the next morning.

#harry potter and the batfam #batfam anon #harry potter #batman #batfam #Anonymous

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gleekto · 4 years

Text

Full Fic: Even Better Than the Real Thing

Words: 18,295 (how did that happen?)

Full fic now on AO3

Summary: College AU/Famous!Blaine and Fanboy!Kurt - Kurt POV

Kurt really doesn’t have time to figure out the dating world between being a freshman at prestigious theatre school, LAADA, and his active but secret blogging life in the Sing!Fandom. So what if Sing! ended last year? There are still fics to read and actors to follow. Especially the uber talented heartthrob lead, Blaine Anderson. He can act. He can sing. He can even dance. He’s gay. He’s out. And he’s only 24. Kurt is willing to twiddle his thumbs and click refresh until Blaine Anderson’s next project.

He just didn’t expect the next project to be on his roommate Rachel’s new TV show.

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6, Part 7, Part 8, Part 9, Part 10, Part 11, Part 12

Even Better than the Real Thing (13/13)

They decide to tell Rachel first. Aside from being the obvious choice, she would be a nightmare if she ever found out she was second shrift to anyone in Kurt’s life. He would definitely not be able to handle her moping around the apartment wondering if he even really considered her a friend in the first place - last week he finishes her oat milk, this week, he’s dating her co-star and she’s the last to know. Of course, in this scenario he never had any of her oat milk, and she wouldn’t be the last to know, but regardless, not telling her first certainly wouldn’t be worth the headache.

“So you think we should just let her walk in on us?” They’re still lying half naked in Kurt’s bed hours after their “reunion”, Blaine lying on his front, Kurt on his back, with Blaine’s butt as his pillow. “I mean she should be home in what - 20 minutes?”

“Oh shit,” Kurt looks at his watch. “More like 10. And I think my breakfast dishes are still sitting on the table.”

They scramble to put on clothes, quickly make Kurt’s bed, and Kurt amusedly watches Blaine try to figure out how to arrange his throw pillows, while he finishes cleaning up his dishes. By the time Rachel waltzes in the front door, they’re sitting across from each other at the kitchen island, each with a cup of hot lemon tea, and trying to look casual.

“Hi Kurt. I have had the busiest day. Let me tell you I’m completely exhausted-” Rachel finally looks up and sees them. “Blaine?” Kurt can feel Rachel trying to come up with a way to phrase her obvious question.

“Hey Rachel,” Blaine smirks, amused, but doesn’t offer any explanation. Kurt kicks him under the table. “Ow.”

“So you’re um-” Rachel purses her lips. “Both feeling better now, I take it?”

“Much better,” Blaine smirks again.

“Okay yes,” Kurt huffs. “We are feeling better and we are,” Kurt motions between Blaine and himself. “Yes.”

“Yes?” Rachel claps her hands excitedly. “This is so great - can you imagine the PR headlines for the show?” Kurt glares at her and she stops. At least for the moment. “I mean, I’m very happy for you. So anyways. You have my blessing.” Kurt laughs out loud.

“Thank you?” Blaine looks at her suspiciously.

“Well, Kurt is my best friend and I do have inside knowledge that you are a good kisser.” Now Blaine laughs out loud. “So may you be blessed with all that goodness.”

“Oh I will be,” Kurt says and Rachel at least looks slightly embarrassed. So he’ll take it as a win.

...

The fun part is telling Mercedes - it’s always so satisfying to have her approval. They FaceTime her.

“You look better,” She notices right away.

“I am,” Kurt beams, Blaine standing behind the computer out of her view. “We talked and-”

“And?” Her eyes go wide.

“And, yeah,” Kurt shakes his head still in a bit of disbelief. We’re seeing what happens.” She squeals in the best way. “And actually,” Kurt smiles even wider, “There’s someone I’d like to introduce you to.” Kurt’s favourite part is watching Mercedes’ jaw drop as Blaine saunters into the frame.

“Hey Mercedes,” He smiles his warm smile. “I’ve heard so much about you.”

“And you, Mr. Blaine Anderson.” Mercedes smiles reflexively shaking her head back and forth. “I am just - wow. Hello.” Kurt remembers being starstruck. It feels like a long time ago.

“No need to be so formal,” Blaine dismisses. “Kurt just calls me Mr. Anderson.”

“You wish,” Kurt elbows him in the side.

“And he even has a sense of humour,” Mercedes is still smiling dumbly.

“Well, maybe next time we’re alone,” Blaine whispers so only Kurt can hear and he gets elbowed even harder, Kurt trying to remain casual.

“So we do need to ask you not to mention this - or any of our future hang outs - on your blog,” Kurt adds, half in jest all in earnest.

Mercedes nods but Blaine chimes in, “Though if you did say that you had a friend who met me, and that I do have a much better sense of style than Colin Red, I would appreciate it.”

“You did get yourself a comedian, Kurt.”

“My style is better,” Blaine huffs.

“And you can mention that ‘your friend’ said the guy Blaine was with was at least a 9/10,” Kurt says.

“You mean a 10?”

“Aren’t you sweet,” Mercedes nods at Kurt, impressed.

“You think I would date a 9? Please. It will all be confirmed when I talk to my publicist, anyways,” Blaine says nonchalantly.

“Your publicist?” Mercedes and Kurt repeat at the same time. Mercedes in shock, Kurt curious.

“Just give me five minutes.”

...

Who is the pretty face having coffee with Sing!’s favorite heartthrob? You asked and JustJay has the answers. His name is Kurt Hummel and we have got the SCOOP!

Kurt laughs as he clicks on the link the next morning. Blaine had spoken to his publicist for a total of five minutes and said a sum total of seven words. Kurt Hummel...Dating...19...LAADA...Rachel’s roommate.

Sorry to any of the hopeful fans out there. Blaine Anderson of Sing! and That’s So Rachel fame, officially confirmed that he is off the market. At least for now. He is dating Kurt Hummel - and he’s his co-star’s roommate. Awkward!

But good luck to the happy new couple!

And that’s it. Kurt Hummel is dating Blaine Anderson. And some of the more ‘high end’ entertainment bloggers note that Blaine requests privacy about his personal life at this time. At least that way they can decline couple selfies when a fan sees them out to eat.

...

Kurt isn’t able to see Blaine again until the weekend, thanks to a lengthy location shoot. He has the week to catch up on his school work, only being mildly distracted by Blaine’s flirty texts - He laughs out loud to his empty apartment when a pic of Blaine shirtless in his trailer, with the top of his boxers showing above his jeans, pops up.

Blaine: Finally gets to see me shirtless whenever he wants.

What an ego.

Kurt: Definitely not as often as I want.

Kurt is pretty sure that’s what makes Blaine come right back to Kurt’s apartment with Rachel that Friday, rather than at least dropping his bag off at home first. “First weeks of dating are always the hardest,” Blaine says as he shuts Kurt’s bedroom door and pulls Kurt on top of him and kisses him long and slow.

Kurt pulls back. “The hardest?”

“Mmmm,” Blaine mouths along his neck. “Very hard not to want to be naked all the time.” Kurt can’t really argue with that. Despite his sense of romance, he definitely does not want to go out right now.

It doesn’t take them very long to shed their clothes and crawl into Kurt’s bed to wrap around each other. Then it slows down as if in slow motion. The last time they were together was desperate - Kurt was surprised and nervous and unsure of what was happening. Now he’s calm (in a horny sort of way) and he lets Blaine wrap around him as Blaine explores his body - the sensitive spot two inches under his armpit, the strip below his belly, even his balls which Blaine cups in his hands. He moans in appreciation and Blaine likes it. He likes it too.

He lets Blaine finger him open that night while Blaine gives him a blowjob and it doesn’t even feel like a thing. Kurt is on his back and Blaine is sinking up and down on him, wet and slow, slurping in a sort of grotesque satisfaction. Kurt lifts his knees up to see what might happen andBlaine pops off momentarily and stares at Kurt’s open legs, then stares at his eyes as he grabs the lube. When Kurt nods, Blaine sinks back down and touches him so effortlessly that Kurt forgets to be nervous. Light presses turn to one finger, then two. In and out. So many sensations and then he’s coming in Blaine’s mouth.

There is just something very easy about being with Blaine Anderson.

...

Rachel is the one who convinces them to do the interview.

They’ve been dating uneventfully for half a year when That’s So Rachel gets renewed for a second season. Other than the occasional photo request or silly headline - Blaine Anderson buys some strawberries while out for a walk with his beau - Kurt feels like he’s having a pretty regular first relationship. They spend several nights a week together, but not every night, they see plays, bake cookies, hang out, have spectacular sex thanks to Blaine’s well honed skills (It’s not my skills, it’s you, Blaine says over and over but Kurt still thinks he’s indulging him). Tumblr seems like a distant memory though Mercedes tells him there is an active RPF fandom writing fics about them - Klaine, she says. What on earth is a klaine? And he’s still acing all his classes.

Then one day the request comes from good old JustJay, and Rachel is all in.

“It will be such great publicity for our new season,” Rachel insists. “The true love behind the show. Come on, you know it will be fun.”

Kurt definitely does not know that. Neither does Blaine. But they give in mostly because Rachel is pure enthusiasm and what really is the harm? So they find themselves sitting on a little couch in JustJay’s small rented studio, arms crossed on their laps like the little old couples in When Harry Met Sally.

“It’s true. He was a fan,” Blaine confirms. “Of my first TV show, Sing!”

“That’s his false modesty talking. I was a fan of Sing! But mostly, I was a fan of Blaine Anderson - young, out, gay. Not bad looking,” Kurt teases. “But I was Rachel’s friend and roommate long before I knew anything about them working together.”

“It was serendipity,” Blaine squeezes his hand and the camera pans in. Kurt can just imagine the fics that will come out of this.

“It was random luck.”

Blaine continues, “We have a lot in common - growing up gay in Ohio, love of musical theatre. We even both sang in show choirs. I’d never date a fan, though.”

“But,” Kurt continues his sentence. “When we met through Rachel, I was too embarrassed to admit I knew who he was. I was just trying to get through a five minute awkward conversation with my celebrity crush without making a fool of myself.”

“But I wouldn’t let him go.”

“He wouldn’t let me go.”

And the rest is history.

#ahhh it's done!#I will reblog with AO3 link once I post there #full fic here we go #even better than the real thing #gleekto writes

71 notes · View notes

acrispyapple · 4 years

Text

Harr Silvers’s Route Outline

in anna’s lazy way of making random notes per chapter. will prolly need more editing but i’ll do it another day~ ☆

both ends included now + special appearance of edgar in an alice wig!

Chapter 1 Alice is staying with the black army. Sirius and Seth take her to the market. While looking at a wanted poster of Harr, she loses sight of them. Alice is lost, and drunken men approach her. Harr and Loki come to rescue her.

Chapter 2 While taking Alice back to Sirius and Seth, Harr advises Alice to stay hidden somewhere no one knows about until the next full moon. Sirius finds them and they head back to the black army base. That night there’s an explosion. Ray tells Alice to stay in her room. She finds out that she’s the target of the attack. Loki shows up via the window in her room. She leaves a message for the black army as Loki takes her to the Forbidden Forest (Harr’s house).

Chapter 3 Harr prepares Alice‘s room. It was a room used for storage originally. He cleans it up with magic. The next morning, Alice is about to change her nightgown, Harr opens the room while carrying a lot of books. (He forgot Alice is now using his old storage room) He shuts the door and says sorry . Harr leaves the house. Alice looks for Harr. He’s fishing at the lake. Loki’s out selling the magic crystals Harr created.

Chapter 4 Harr finishes fishing and goes back home with Alice. He cooks. Loki also arrives. They all have a nice lunch together. Alice wonders who tried to attack her. Harr says it’s from magic tower, probably. He explains stuff about the magic tower.

That night Harr goes out. By the next morning, he has not returned. Alice and Loki have breakfast.

Harr comes home that evening. Alice says ‘welcome home‘ and gazes at him intently. (Loki‘s plan to check whether Harr gets embarrassed or not) He gets embarrassed and blushes. Alice feels it’s cute.

Chapter 5 At the magic tower, they notice that Alice is not with the black army anymore. They start searching for Alice. Dalim seems to know who’s hiding Alice, because their ‘finding magic’ was blocked by a strong special magic. This magic is rare, and he knows only Harr can use it.

While Alice is cooking soup, she finds a small bottle with a label that says ‘drink me’ among the seasoning bottles. She tries it. (alice why are you like this) It’s delicious, so she decides to use it in the soup to add a subtle flavor. After she drinks tho, her body shrinks~ (alice i thought you read the alice in wonderland book) She wants to go to Harr‘s room to ask for help, but it’s like a mile away with her tiny body. Harr’s owl (named Sue) is flying around, so Alice yells for Sue to take her to Harr’s room. Sue takes small Alice to Harr‘s room. Harr breaks the magic, and Alice returns to her normal size-- but she’s naked... Harr is embarrassed. While Alice is putting her clothes on in a hurry, Loki comes home. Loki misunderstands the situation, but they explain.

Chapter 6 Alice wants to do something for Harr as a present. She’s going to make a cake. (Loki ‘s advice) She plans on going out alone to get fruits. Loki worries about her and warns her not to go too far. She promised she wouldn’t. She heads to a fruit tree. She kind of hears something in the distance. After she’s gathered enough fruits, a gust of wind blows and hooded magic tower guys appear. Dalim says that it’s good Alice went beyond the barrier border. Harr apparently cast a protection magic around the house, but Alice went past it. Dalim tries to take her to the magic tower. Alice blocks his magic. She’s captured anyway. Suddenly something flashes and she gets freed. Harr and Loki arrive to rescue her. Loki takes Alice back home using magic. Harr stays in the forest to fight against the magic tower guys.

Chapter 7 Harr casts a spell and makes a line. He says no one can go beyond the line. Dalim is doubtful and still says they’ll try. Dalim and the other scholars gather magic crystals. It causes a blast and but nothing happens. The spell is too powerful. Harr says quietly, Mr Dalim, I don’t want to make injure anyone. Dalim says, So give me Alice before someone gets injured. Harr refuses. His eyes turn red again and black water appears from the line. It’s like thunder, it’s clear that if anyone touches the water, they’ll get hurt terribly. Dalim gives up and leaves.

Harr comes home and Alice is relieved. She apologizes but Harr says it’s okay. The problem is they know where Alice is now. He fixes the barriers around the house. He gives Loki a key to use for when he needs to leave and go to town. The spell is only dispellable by the person whose magic is just as powerful as Harr’s. (lancelot, anyone?) Alice asks who would have such a power. There’s only one apparently. Harr looks exhausted, he says he’s going to take a rest without dinner. Alice worries again but Loki says it’s because he used magic, so it’s no biggie. Loki explains the magic and consumption relationship. Alice is shocked because they’ve used magic for her several times.

Around midnight she still can’t sleep, so she goes to the kitchen to get some water. She finds Harr sitting there.

Chapter 8 Harr’s not wearing his mask. There’s a scar around his eye. She says hello, and he puts the mask back on. He’s making a fishing rod for Alice. He says she doesn’t need to stay inside the house all the time. She can go fishing. The lake area is safe. He makes hot chocolate and says he’s going to continue work. He’s creating magic crystals. After she drinks it, he gives her a piece of candy. Loki also wakes up. He can’t sleep either, so he suggested that he and Alice sleep together. Harr isn’t on board but Loki gets him to join them. Loki says they’re like a family.

~magical bed that suddenly becomes big enough for 3 people, when it used to look like a single bed~

Chapter 9 Loki whispers to Harr, I want Alice to have a great time until she has to go back to London because Alice is a good girl.

At the magic tower, Amon is furious after learning about Alice’s current location. Amon gives an order to Dalim, “Call him, he can take care of Harr.”

The next morning, Harr’s already gone when Alice wakes up. After breakfast, Alice and Loki go fishing. Alice doesn’t catch anything~

Around the evening, Harr still isn’t back. They get a letter from Sue saying Harr will be home late.

Chapter 10 Loki suggests Alice goes shopping with him in Central. Alice hesitates but Loki says he has something that’ll help. The next day, Alice wears a hat that makes her invisible. Alice sees Sirius and engages. Sirius can’t see Alice but he can hear her. He says Harr will protect her until the next full moon for sure. Sirius explains that they’re old friends. After shopping, Loki takes Alice to Blanc’s house. Oliver apparently made the hat. Blanc gives her an invitation card for a masquerade. The party is attended by both the black and red armies. Alice tries to refuse, but Blanc says the magic tower people can’t go to the party so she should be okay.

They get back to the house and Harr is waiting outside all angry. They explain stuff to him and mention the masquerade. Loki says Harr has to take Alice since he has another appointment and can’t go himself. Loki wants Alice to make great memories in Cradle. Harr accepts reluctantly. Blanc sends a dress and some accessories. Alice and Harr head to the party.

Chapter 11 At the party, Alice and Harr dance, then go to the balcony after. Alice asks Harr to show her his face without his mask. Harr asks if she’s drunk. She says maybe, and goes to get a glass of water. Loki appears on the balcony and tells Harr off. Harr is surprised that Loki made him and Alice go to the party together intentionally.

Chapter 12 All three of them are back home. Harr visits Loki’s room and says it might be difficult for them to live safely since the magic tower won’t leave them alone. So he needs to do something. He asks Loki to protect Alice no matter what. Loki readily agrees, then asks what Harr is going to do. Harr doesn’t answer.

The next day, Alice is baking. While she’s putting the cake in the oven, someone knocks on the door. Loki nor Harr don’t usually come home at that hour, so Alice feels wary. Alice remembers Harr saying only one person can break the barrier. Alice looks out the window and sees Lancelot standing there.

Chapter 13 Alice doesn’t open the door and stands still. Lancelot says he knows she’s there, and if she doesn’t open the door, he will open it by force. Alice lets Lancelot in. Alice says the owner of the house is out, so Lancelot should come by another time. Lancelot says he came by to take Alice. Lancelot’s eyes turn red but Alice blocks the magic. Harr arrives and asks why Lancelot is there. Harr says he won’t hand over Alice. Lancelot says he’ll just have to take Alice away himself. Lancelot and Harr’s eyes turn red. Sirius suddenly arrives. Harr is surprised to see him because no one else can go through his barrier but Lancelot. Sirius says the two of them should talk and listen-- not fight. He also said this same line 7 years ago. The tense situation is sort of diffused when they hear a timer go off. Alice says the cake is ready and invites them to a tea break.

Chapter 14 Alice serves them cake and tea at the table. Only Sirius talks about their school life, Lancelot and Harr are both quiet. Sirius asks what happened to the two of them 7 years ago. Harr says Lancelot betrayed him. Lancelot says he hasn’t changed a bit from 7 years ago. He declares a war in 7 days, and that he would get Alice by then. He tells them his condition for him to give up on Alice. Harr says he won’t let Alice go, while Sirius says he’ll protect her with the black army.

Chapter 15 Harr eats the cake Alice made. Alice asks him again to show his face without a mask. Harr obliges. He says he can’t see from his left eye. He starts telling her about his past. He was at the magic tower for a while, and he discovered their dark secrets. He injured his left eye while trying to leave the tower.

Chapter 16 Dalim is informed that Lancelot wasn’t able to get Alice because Sirius turned up. Someone told Sirius about the whole thing. It was actually Dalim, he didn’t want Lancelot and Harr to fight there.

Back in the forbidden forest, Loki is briefed about what happened during the day. Alice asks Loki why he lives with Harr. Loki talks about his past, and how when he tried to escape the magic tower, Harr protected him. (Harr also helped his owl Sue with something else) Harr regrets not being able to save a person who was running away from the magic tower (Zero), so he promised he would protect Loki.

Chapter 17 Loki says Harr is doing something with his magic secretly, that’s why he’s so tired. They want to help Harr but they know they’ll get turned down, so Loki makes a plan to get involved another way. Alice asks Harr on a date. This is Loki’s plan.

Chapter 18 They go out on a ‘date’. Just walking around the lake. Alice insists Harr stop using magic. She worries about it consuming his life. He gives her a necklace and says it’s a charm. Alice realizes she loves Harr.

Chapter 19 Lance is at magic tower. Amon gives him lots of magic crystals. He orders Lance to kill Harr.

The next morning, Sue brings the newspaper. It says the red army will go to war in 5 days. Harr says he’s going fishing. Alice feels weird, because he always goes fishing in the evening.

That night, Harr returns and prepares a gorgeous dinner. Alice and Loki feel something is off with Harr.

Around midnight, Alice hears something. It’s Loki trying to stop Harr from going to the magic tower to fight alone. Harr casts a spell on Loki and Alice, and they both fall asleep.

Chapter 20 Loki sees the necklace Harr gave Alice and says it’s a trump card. Harr was researching rechargeable magic crystals at the tower. The necklace Alice has is the eternal magic crystal. They can cope with tons of magic attacks using the tiny necklace. They head to the magic tower to support Harr. Near the tower, they see Zero.

Chapter 21 Zero says he followed Lancelot. They hear a siren buzzing from the tower. The alarms is for when someone enters or escapes the tower. They try to get into the tower only to be met by Dalim. He welcomes Loki and Zero back. He says Lancelot and Harr are in the hall above. Zero is confused when Dalim says Loki, Zero, and Alice are the three people Harr tried to protect from the tower. Dalim just says Zero’s memory has vanished. Dalim lets them go past him. He assures them he’s their enemy, but their goal is the same. At the hall, Amon orders Lance to kill Harr.

Chapter 22 Alice, Loki, and Zero see Harr and Lance battling with magic. It looks like a fierce battle, with their clothes torn and all, but they were not injured. Harr suddenly stops fighting and realizes something. Lance’s eyes turn back to normal. Amon urges Lance to use the magic crystals. They notice the arrival of Alice and the others. Amon orders Lance to kill all of them but Alice. Lance attacks Amon instead. Amon calls for backup to attack Lance with their new crystals that are made from human experiments. Lance uses too much magic to block it and is left a bit weak. Harr protects Lance. Dalim realizes Harr is using his eternal magic crystals, and that he continued his research all this time.

Chapter 23 Amon orders to use all of their magic crystals, but there’s none left. It was mostly given to the red army for the war. Harr steps towards Amon, but he teleports away. Harr thinks he went to the ruins where he stores magic crystals. Harr asks Loki and Lance to make a protective barrier around the ruins to prevent damage if the magic crystals inside explode. Harr goes after Amon alone. Lance faces Dalim and the magic tower goons.

Chapter 24 Dalim says if the ruins explode, the magic tower would be affected the most. He orders the tower scholars to protect the tower with magic using whatever they have. Lance goes back to the red army and makes a protective barrier around the territory. Zero informs the citizens to escape. Loki alerts the black army. Alice tells Dalim she can help protect the tower. A big blast comes from the forest, and a strong shock wave hits the barrier. Alice tries her best to block it but she’s at her limit. Her necklace flashes and a strong light covers them.

Due to the blast, the ruins have disappeared. The shock wave destroyed the protective wall of the tower, but the power of the necklace stopped the attack. Alice faints. When Alice wakes up, Loki briefs her about the outcome. There were some damaged areas, but the citizens are safe. The red army has stopped the war. Amon and Harr are missing.

Chapter 25 Loki and Sue are with Alice. Loki says he promised Harr he’d protect her until her return to London. They miss Harr, but still believe he’ll return. 3 more days until the full moon. Dalim visits Alice with big news about the tower she helped protect. Amon is gone, so they have a new leader. From then on, the normal distribution of magic crystals will start. He thanks Alice and promises not to go after her anymore. Alice asks who the new leader is. Dalim just says he’s a supporter of that person. He wishes her a safe return to London. Alice says she’ll wait for Harr‘s return.

Later she hears someone coming, she thinks it’s Loki coming back home. It’s actually Harr. He says he’s home and smiles, then they embrace. Loki comes back and is surprised to see Harr. Harr explains what happened in the battle with Amon. He detonated the magic crystals then teleported to another country. He used too much magic so he was incapacitated for a while. Loki goes out to tell everyone the news. Alice confesses to Harr. He thanks her and says he wasn’t planning on coming home originally because he might not let her go if he did. He thinks it’s better for her to be in London. But he heard she was waiting for him, so he decided to return. He says he loves her and kisses her. 1 day before the full moon.

Chapter 26 Harr says he became the new leader of the magic tower. Dalim forced the delegation on him.

At the garden, Blanc, the red army, and black army are gathered. Harr, Lancelot, and Sirius are united. Zero thanks Harr.

Harr is selected as a new leader of the magic tower officially. Harr goes to the spot where Alice fell down from London. Alice follows him, they reminisce, etc and they kiss.

On the day of the full moon, Harr takes Alice to the garden again. Alice is about to step into the light leading to London but Harr calls out to her. He says he doesn’t want to lose her and that she should stay with him. Alice throws her bags down and runs to Harr to embrace him.

愛され Romantic End

Harr embraces her tightly and kisses her. He slips some tongue in, and Alice bites it. (≖‿≖) Harr is surprised, Alice says it was sudden. They went home hand in hand. [insert sexy timez] (i don’t feel comfy describing scenes like this, i can only make jokes about it)

Normal days returned. Loki says they’re like a normal family. Loki goes out to sell magic crystals while Harr goes to work at the tower. Alice makes dinner. Loki says he’s not coming home that night and that they can enjoy alone time.

[more sexy timez] (//▽//)

END.

愛する Dramatic End

Harr insists that Alice return to London just this once. He says he wants to live together forever in Cradle so he wants her to go and settle her affairs in London -- work, friends, family etc. Alice goes back~

Several days until the next full moon...

At the magic tower, Harr is spacing out. Darim says he's also looking forward to Alice's return because he likes her. Harr frowns and Darim says he's just joking.

...

At Harr’s house, Lancelot and Sirius are hanging out. They've started having frequent tea parties. Sirius and Lancelot are also awaiting Alice's return. Harr gets jealous.

...

On the day of the full moon, Harr catches Alice as she falls from the sky. They decide to go to the lake first before going back to house. He proposes to her. Alice promises eternal love. They kiss.

...

Back at the house in Alice's room, she notices it's as clean and tidy as she left it a month ago. They get to the bed, where they embrace and start the sexy timez~ (¯▿¯)

END. (edgar in an ‘alice wig’ makes another appearance!)

Extra:

I really like how Harr’s other hand is bandaged. ¯\(°_o)/¯

#ikemen revolution #ikerev #イケメン革命 #harr's route #harr silver #dalim tweedle #lancelot kingsley #sirius oswald #loki genetta #crispyapple screencaps #ikerev jp #summary #request #crispyapple's translated stuff

381 notes · View notes

imjeralee · 4 years

Text

Comfort in Despair: Chapter 7 - Galar’s National Treasure

Leon x F!Reader

Disclaimer: Do not own Pokemon

Summary:

Galar is rich in folklore and tales of the supernatural.

As a Pokemon Researcher who specialises in ghost types, this is a great opportunity for you to investigate and learn more about the paranormal.

Along the way, you meet Leon (in the most awkward way possible) who becomes embroiled in your adventures.

^ Basically this story is about ghosts :/

Rating: General/Teen

Galar’s National Treasure

(aka 'Like A Normal Person')

...

[Snippet about Leon from Galar Daily Times: Selfless, humble and kind, Leon has swiftly become Galar’s National Treasure in a short period of time.

He has captured the hearts of all the women of Galar. As one fan states, "It's impossible to look at him without smiling."]

...

The ring of your alarm forces you to wake up and you are in a questionable mood following yesterday’s events.

It’s the afternoon and usually you wouldn’t wake up so early but you have to try and visit Leon before the end of the day and so you push yourself off the mattress, groaning loudly.

You perform several mild stretches in bed before you slide off to stand. You’ve woken at an unnatural hour. You are unused to this. You like light but hell, this light is blinding…you can’t help but hiss with distaste under your breath.

And downstairs, you can hear the muffled sounds of the TV.

You get dressed, head to the bathroom to wash up, remembering that you are also supposed to return Leon's snapback if possible.

Visiting hours officially ends at seven pm which you think is generous so when you return to the room, you pack your bag with his hat and some other essentials should you decide to pull another all-nighter in the Wild Area. You highly doubt you will considering how exhausted you are and you head downstairs with bag in tow where you see Magnolia, Sonia, Cutiefly and Polteageist in the lounge watching the news.

Once they hear you come down, they rise from their seats and embrace you. As usual, Cutiefly dives for your hair and Poltea wraps his arms around your head.

“Are you alright, dear?” Magnolia asks, glancing up at you from behind her half-moon specs as your pokemon greet you affectionately.

“Yeah,” you murmur, rubbing your arm, before you notice a cheque on the table. Lifting it up, you see it’s addressed to you and it’s a large amount. Your eyes grow wide and you croak out, “What’s this??”

“Inspector Graves came by this morning and told us everything. That’s your reward for finding the missing gym challengers,” she murmurs as she lets go of you.

“I don’t need this. I didn’t do it for the money.”

“Oooh, can I have it then? I can go shopping with Nessa!” Sonia exclaims as she reaches for it, but Magnolia whacks her hand with the tip of her cane none too gently. “Ow…Gran!”

“Sonia.” Magnolia says sternly, shaking her head. Sonia pouts and cradles her hand to herself. Turning to you, Magnolia says, “I don’t want you to work on such dangerous cases from now on. Just leave it to the police, that’s why they’re here. Your mother wouldn’t want any harm to befall you and I promised to her I would keep you safe.”

“…Understood.”

“Good.”

Sonia glances between you and Magnolia and decides to return to sit on the couch silently, hugging Yamper to herself.

“Anyway, did you sleep well, dear?”

“Yes, professor.”

“We’re having roast today, I do hope you will join us.”

“Yeah, I will,” you reply, and Magnolia pats you on the shoulder; you will be joining them for lunch on this occasion, which is very rare.

She shoves her feet into her slippers and slowly leaves the lounge whilst you join Sonia on the couch with Yamper squashed between you and he scrambles into your lap.

“Gran can be scary, huh?” she whispers.

“She’s just worried,” you mutter, "How's your hand?"

"My hand is fine. How's your hand?"

"Still sore," you murmur as you glance at your bandaged palm, before you look at the cheque again. The money would be good to stock up on some supplies... “Sonnie, if you need anything, just let me know.”

“Hmm, well, I did see a very nice dress in the boutique the other day,” she mutters, “It’s okay, I don’t need it.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah.”

“Alright."

You avert your attention to the news, using your finger to stroke Cutiefly’s fuzzy body whilst Polteageist pours some tea for you into a cup he fished from the kitchen for you. Chairman Rose is on screen and standing in front of many microphones shoved in his face, providing a speech on the Giant’s Seat incidence. Despite the pressure he should be facing, he seems undisturbed.

“I am deeply saddened by the news and my heart goes out to the families and loved ones of the deceased,” he says, “However, the gym challenge will not be cancelled this year. The Pokemon League has roots dating back to the sixth century and is a beloved tradition of Galar….”

Rose goes mute following those words but his mouth keeps moving, indicating that he is still speaking and the news had decided to blot out his voice for some reason.

The clip abruptly ends and returns to the news reporter who briefly talks about the dead gym challengers being found in an unregistered pokemon den in the mountains of the Giant’s Seat then it shows their mourning family members and friends. Finally, an update on Leon’s status is provided; he is in stable condition and will make a full recovery.

The news then switches to a small group outside Rose Tower carrying posters and picket signs, protesting against the gym challenge. The group consists of middle-aged women and men. Mothers and fathers, you assume.

“We have Evan at the scene right now. Evan, how does it look?” says the reporter, and the screen changes to a skinny tall man holding a microphone in hand standing in front of the crowd.

“Thank you, Sarah, I’m standing in front of Rose Tower and as you can see behind me, there is a massive crowd of frustrated parents who want their voices to be heard. After Rose issued his statement earlier this morning…”

As the reporter drones on and on, Sonia sighs. “This is awful, I’ve never seen anything like this. I don’t think this has ever happened in the history of the Pokemon League.”

The reporter is now walking towards the crowd with the camera focused on him. He goes over to a random protestor and inches the microphone towards her, asking her to share some words.

The woman is livid. “Yeah, I got some words for you, Chairman Rose! You won’t call off the gym challenge? Then I’m gonna pull my son out! You’re not gonna get a single pokedollar from me!” bellows the woman. She is holding a sign that says ‘No to the Gym Challenge!’ and ‘Boycott Macro Cosmos!’. “We want safer measures introduced into the Wild Area! I’m not going to send my child to his death!”

“Oh dear,” Sonia adds as Yamper buries himself into her arms, “I wonder what this means for the future of the gym challenge.”

��Rose is pretty clear that the gym challenge isn’t going to be called off,” you reply. “It’s tradition.”

“Poor Leon, I hope he’s okay,” Sonia replies, hugging Yamper to herself tightly, “I mean, he is the Champion of Galar. He endorses the League more than anyone else.”

This is really negative press for the League, the worst, in fact. Cripes, you feel responsible for this. You hope Leon doesn’t lose his job or lose popularity or anything because of this incident…

“Sonnie, I’m going to visit him later, do you want to come with me?”

“No, it’s fine, I already went this morning. He was asking about you. He was asking me so many questions," she turns to you with a wide smile, "...Is there something going on between you two? He seemed awfully interested in you all of a sudden."

"No," you're quick to quip and Poltea pulls on your wrist, gesturing you to drink the tea he’s made for you which is growing cold.

It's a good way to get out of this conversation but Sonia doesn't look satisfied with your answer. Nevertheless, you lift the cup and down a sip. It’s perfect as expected and you smile at Polteageist, patting him on the head. He lets out a warble of affection and spins around in his teapot, before he lifts the teapot lid off the top of his head and begins dancing in mid-air with it. You and Sonia giggle at his actions.

You had once studied Polteageist, but nothing entirely fruitful really came from the investigation.

He was just...haunted tea.

The news moves onto an unenlightened article and you change to a channel showing a documentary about conspiracy theorists who believe the pokearth is actually flat until Magnolia calls you both for lunch and you leave the lounge to sit at the dining table to enjoy the meal. The three of you chat amiably though you do find your thoughts drifting to Leon often.

Once you finish, you help Magnolia wash up and Sonia scurries upstairs to the bedroom.

You check Rotom for any messages you received when you were asleep; Jace has messaged asking if you were alright and you reply, telling him you are fine and that you will return his belongings to him.

Graves has left a voicemail for you, informing you that he knows you have Froslass and you are to hand her over to the authorities when you have the time. You can feel your head hurting and you look at some other messages you have received. Some of the mothers of the dead gym challengers have also attempted to call and have left messages, thanking you for your work.

Next, you see that you have received a message from Leon and your heart skips a beat when you open it. It says:

Leon: Hi, this is Leon.

“Yes, I know it’s you, Leon,” you say aloud before you can stop yourself. You wonder if he’s going to say this each time he sends a message to you. There are also no smiley faces, no emojis in his messages. This must be Leon’s way of messaging. He must be keeping it professional at all times though you can’t help but think that he texts like an old man.

Leon: Will you be visiting me today?

You inhale the gasp that’s threatening to escape and type a reply.

You: hi leon! i was going to head over right now if ur free!

Wait a second, you sound too enthusiastic. Deciding to keep it neutral, you delete the exclamation marks and tidy the message up.

You: Hi Leon, I was going to head over right now if you are free.

You hit send and you’re stunned to see Leon is typing a reply, the top of the screen indicating that he has immediately gone online the moment you fired the response. However, Leon suddenly stops typing and then a few seconds later, your phone screen changes, indicating Leon is calling you.

"Holy Combee," you utter as you swipe the screen and put it to your ear, "...H-hello?"

"Hi, this is Leon."

"Hi, what's up?"

"Not much, I....I wanted to hear your voice."

"Oh," your face goes ten shades of red and you gulp. "H-how are you feeling?"

"I'm much better now. And yeah, I'm free."

"Great, I'll pop over now."

"Okay," he replies. You can hear him smiling.

"Bye, see you soon."

"Bye."

You both hang up. That was rather tense. Nevertheless, you will go visit Leon right now.

As you grab your bag, your phone goes off once more and you thought it’d be Leon again but it’s your haunted house client. He’s asking if he can speak to you earlier as he’s currently in Wedgehurst and you sigh. You haven’t said no to a client before and therefore you ask if he can come now despite the short notice and he says indeed he can.

You message Leon, telling him you will be at the hospital in an hour and he messages back with a simple ‘okay’.

“Oh my Arceus, are you and Leon text buddies?”

At the sound of Sonia’s voice, you emit a squeak of surprise and turn round to see Sonia standing behind you with a wide smile on her face. “EEP!! Sonnie! What are you doing???”

She giggles, leaning away from your shoulder and twirling her hair in her hands.

“Were you looking over my shoulder the entire time???”

“No. Well, yes, kind of. Sorry, I couldn’t resist! There is something going on between you!"

"No, there isn't..." you wail and as she giggles, your cheeks grow pink and you march away from her. “A-anyway, I don't have time for this; my client’s arriving in five minutes. I need to get ready.”

You hurry up the stairs to get dressed and your client arrives in a few minutes; you escort him to the conservatory where you recount your experience of the haunted house which seems to be such a long time ago, and he seems satisfied with the result.

He’s already paid you the initial consulting fee which was three thousand pokedollars and then you charge an hourly rate of five thousand dollars due to the nature of your work. You investigated for roughly five hours so he owes you a total of twenty five thousand.

When you see him pulling out his beaten-up wallet from his equally beaten-up bag and you see there's a Popplio along with faded, discoloured initials stitched on the cheap leather, you realise you're basically charging a thirteen year old kid a rather extortionate amount, the same price as ten Max Potions.

And so you feel bad for taking all his money when you remember that he had told you no-one believed him and that none of his friends or parents had pooled in for funds to ask for your help so your empathetic nature kicks in and you give him a discount of fifteen per cent.

The look on his face makes you smile as he leaves in high spirits to return to his gym challenger journey.

You also give him a good luck charm and tell him to stay away from abandoned houses from now on. He agrees and waves and you wave back.

It’s time to visit Leon so you leave the house shortly and take a Corviknight taxi to the hospital. During the ride, you read more signs on how to identify if a guy likes you ranging from playful teasing, talking about a future with you, opening up, putting his phone away when you’re around and then there are some that sound bizarre such as his pupils dilating in your presence.

You close the page, unsure what to think about these tips and you’re certainly trying not to overthink yet as the hospital looms into view, you find yourself growing rather anxious.

You enter the hospital and it’s a lot different during daylight. All the Lampents are gone and you hurriedly register your name down on the visitor’s sign-in book before the nurse allows you passage into the ward. You thank her and rush down the corridor, arriving at Leon’s designated room.

You take a deep breath as you stop at his door, adjust your clothing and ensure your hair is neat and tidy, then you nervously rap your knuckles over the surface and hear a jovial “Come in!” from inside.

At the invitation, you push down on the handle, open the door and peer inside.

You wonder if he would look injured or gravely ill but you’re pleasantly surprised to see Leon sitting in bed with the duvet pulled over his lap, grinning widely from ear to ear; he’s dressed in a white hospital gown with his long purple hair cascading freely down his shoulders and over his back and if it’s true, then he’s naked underneath.

…But that’s not something you should concern yourself with so you quickly brush away those thoughts and make your way towards him.

He’s holding a pink box of chocolates in hands and he’s surrounded by a bunch of ‘Get Well Soon’ cards, fruit baskets, metallic balloons and all sorts of other outlandish gifts. Interesting, so this must be how it feels to be popular and well-liked. You gape at the huge amount of boxes and once Leon’s gaze lands on your form, his eyes widen briefly before he hastily puts the box down, smooths his large hand over his untamed hair and turns to you with a somewhat awkward grin.

“H-hey, you’re here.”

He sounds nervous.

“Hi Leon,” you say as you enter the room, trying not to step on anything, “How are you?”

“I’m fine, thank you.”

“Are you sure?”

He nods rigorously to convince you.

You’re not convinced though and as you walk closer to him, it’s then you notice his cheeks are a little pink. You don’t say anything to his demeanor and instead, glance at the stacks of gifts in his room.

“Oh, uh…these are presents from fans,” he replies, and Charizard, who is sitting in one corner of the room immediately rises from his spot and bounds towards you, huffing excitedly.

"Hey Charizard," you greet him happily as the flame Pokemon lunges at you and begins nuzzling your palms and rubbing his snout over you. Charizard buries his head underneath your hand and you have no choice but to pet him, then he begins licking your cheek and you start laughing whilst Leon stares with widened eyes. You've heard of puppy kisses so you guess this is Charizard kisses.

"I heard someone like belly rubs," you say when he stops licking you, before you begin raking your fingers over his yellow tummy. Charizard thumps his tail over the ground energetically and folds his wings properly before he sprawls over the floor, growling loudly as you continue rubbing his stomach. Looking up at Leon, you say, "He's like a big pupper, isn't he?"

"Yeah..." Leon replies, flashing you a smile.

Charizard rolls back upright and you give him an affectionate pat on his head before he nudges you closer to Leon. "Alright, alright..." you mutter as you're finally nudged all the way in front of the Champion and Charizard lets out a wheezy snort of content and returns to the corner, settling down to rest.

You give Leon an awkward smile and as you look around, you realise there are no chairs in the room and you’re not sure why but Leon says, “You can sit on the bed with me.”

“Okay."

With Leon’s permission, you carefully climb onto the bed and sit cross-legged in front of him over the blanket.

"You should've seen him, Leon. He was really worried for you but he was so brave," you say, glancing at Charizard as he curls up on his paws with his tail in the air.

Leon nods, grinning. "He did great."

"He did."

You both turn to each other with a smile and Charizard emits a huffing snort of glee, looking at you two with a toothy, all-knowing grin. Throwing your glance down, you see that Leon has a box of chocolates in hands and he lifts it up to you.

“Try one,” Leon says, and you choose a cute little heart-shaped chocolate before promptly popping it into your mouth. He watches you carefully as you eat. “What do you think?”

“It’s good.”

He grabs a chocolate and munches on it before he beams. Overall, you’re relieved to see that he is well despite the incident. “Have another one.”

With a nod, you pluck another chocolate out of the box and he does the same. You both eat the chocolates at the same time, looking at each other as you chew before you exchange a smile. Leon is sharing food with you…it’s identical to when you were camping with him…

“Let’s see here,” Leon gulps down the confectionary and scoops up the card that came with it, “This is a homemade recipe by… Leigh from Circhester. Thank you, Leigh from Circhester.”

Your grin widens as Leon puts the box down and turns to a pile of unopened letters in another corner. Love letters, most likely.

“I don’t think I have enough time to go through these,” he muses, “There’s so many.”

“Are these from your fangirls?”

His cheeks flush brilliantly. “Y-yeah, I guess….which is…which is really nice of them,” he remarks, stuttering slightly as he throws his gaze to the side.

You’re quite entertained if the reason he is so nervous could possibly be you but you’re not sure. You cannot see his eyes dilating that’s for sure, but he seems to be unable to look at you in the eye.

“Well, here’s my gift,” you say, before you pull out a small wooden carving with a red string looped around it from your bag. It has a weird shape, a bit on the oblong side and it’s carved with a grotesque-looking face but when you give it to Leon, he is fascinated as he balances it in his hands. “I made it myself. It will protect you from being spirited away. I also brought your hat,” you add as you open your bag and pull out his snapback.

“Great, I was wondering where it went,” he thanks you again as he accepts it from you and settles it neatly over the bedside table, “Thanks for the gift and thanks for coming to visit me. I was really hoping for you to come.”

“Of course. I had to see if you were okay.”

His face visibly flushes again and he clears his throat, finally swerving his glance up to you. He holds the gaze and you’re both staring at each other. Your heart thumps harder the moment your eyes meet.

You look away to pick up one of his letters; it’s pink and covered in love hearts. “Not subtle at all," you utter and you can feel his gaze on you but you are too nervous to look up.

“You can read one if you like,” he says.

“Nah, that would be an invasion of privacy,” you reply and you put it back down. You force yourself to look up and indeed, he’s been staring at you the entire time. Your cheeks feel hot now, the heat spreading uncontrollably to your ears and the back of your neck. “I-I guess you’re, uh…used to receiving so many gifts?”

“Yeah, but it doesn’t make it easier for me to accept them…It’s a bit too much sometimes. If I could send some back, I would.”

“Ohh, don’t be so modest. Everyone loves you, Leon. You’re Galar’s National Treasure.”

Your compliment takes him off guard and his cheeks grow pink again.

An awkward silence settles between you two until he asks, “Do you want to go through these together?”

You want this tense silence to go away so you nod and he picks up the next gift which is wrapped in pink wrapping paper with a matching ribbon and bow.

He brings the box to his ears and shakes it and there is no sound but when he opens it, he sees it is a set consisting of a mini pink hairbrush, a fake pink tiara, giant plastic pink hairclip, fake pink scissors and finally, a matching princess handheld mirror with fake jewels that is also a bright shade of neon pink.

“Ah….interesting,” he mutters, whilst you giggle in response. He pulls the brush out, revealing a little piece of folded paper underneath. Picking it up, he unfolds it and there are messy words written all over the place in pink crayon and he reads aloud, “To Leon, from Princess Natasha, aged five. I brush my dolls with these so you should brush your hair with them too. They’re very special to me so I want you to have them. PS. Please be my Prince.”

“That is so cute!” you can’t help but squeal and he chuckles as he places the box down. “May I?”

“Go ahead.”

You scoop the tiny brush, sit up properly in your spot and lean forwards. It could be the trick of the eye but you swear you see him stiffening slightly when he realizes you’re inching closer to him.

With brush in hand, Leon blinks blankly as you rake the bristles over his thick bangs until they become tame and Leon stares at you wide-eyed as you swipe the brush over the frames of his face and over the back of his head and his face flushes in response.

You finish the look by grabbing the hideous pink clip and brush some of his thick purple hair to the left and slide the clip over, pressing down until you hear it snapping shut. To your utmost surprise, it stays on.

Next, you grab the scissors and pretend you’re trimming his beard, humming cheerfully under your breath, but it does look like he has more stubble than usual. When you realise Leon is staring at you intently, you quickly put the toys back into the box and clear your throat. You got carried away…

You quickly pick up the mirror and show him his reflection. “There. Don’t you look ravishing?”

Leon stares at himself before he chuckles and you join in, laughing lightly until he removes the clip, looks at your direction and as he reaches forwards, you stiffen as he gently brushes fingers against the side of your cheek and over the side of your head, pushing a few strands and tucking them behind your ear.

Your cheeks grow warm as he clips the plastic atrocity in place and grins. “I think it suits you better.”

Your heart beats like crazy but you force yourself to laugh in response though it sounds like you were doing an impression of a honking Ducklett.

“About last night….thanks for saving me,” Leon says, and he’s staring rather intensely. "Chairman Rose knows what you did and he wants to thank you."

“I-it was nothing, but uh…did you watch the news?”

“Yeah, and I’ve to issue a statement in a few days but…” Leon leaves his sentence trailing, sighs and his gaze softens as he gives you a thin smile, “The Wild Area and the League will introduce safer measures. It’s a good thing and it will be a difficult time ahead, but I know we’ll be able to pull through. Even though Chairman Rose is having a tough time right now….and what happened to those gym challengers…As Champion of Galar, I can’t help but feel responsible for this but I want people to continue to believe in the gym challenge and be the best trainer they can possibly be.”

“Leon, it’s not your fault at all.”

He throws his glance to the side however, "I'm sorry, I didn’t mean to go on like that."

"It's okay. Remember I told you before? Whatever it is you're feeling, feel free to get it out of your system. I'm all ears."

Leon pauses, blinking at you in surprise before he utters, "Thanks."

"No problem."

"Do you mind if I ask you a few questions about last night?"

"Not at all, ask away."

"How exactly did you find me?"

"Well, I was doing my research on the case with the missing people from the Giant's Seat."

"I remember you telling me that. We deliberately stayed away."

You don't say anything to that because he still ended up there anyway and so you continue, "I was at the Research lab, looking at all the missing folk and trying to suss out a pattern...and figured it was a Froslass. Went home with Jace to talk about-"

"Who's Jace?"

"Just a friend," you reply and Leon suddenly has a rather undecipherable expression on his face, "Anyway, suddenly Charizard arrived outside my house in Wedgehurst and I got on his back and he flew all the way to the Giant's Seat where he lost you. I used a...um...well," you show him your bandaged palm, "I used an advanced divination technique to find you. You can ask Charizard for further details if you want."

Leon nods, a little perplexed. He's listening though, completely hooked in.

"I followed the trail all the way to this mountain, to this summit, and dropped into a Pokemon den and..." you leave your sentence trailing, inhaling a shaky breath, "....They were there. All the missing people. And then I found you."

A brief silence spawns following your response.

"If you're wondering what the stone is, it's an Odd Keystone."

He nods, hand under his chin, "I read about those."

"My mentor let me borrow it."

"Ezra, right?"

You look at him surprise. "You remembered...?"

"Yeah." Leon replies with a grin.

Your cheeks feel warm. "W-well...Ezra and I have collected about eighty or something spirits over the past few years, so we're almost there," you're wondering why you are sharing so much with Leon but he is such a great listener and he genuinely looks interested. "He taught me how to use it to trap evil spirits. In fact, he's taught me pretty much everything I know."

After your long revelation, Leon offers you a smile when you exhale loudly, seemingly exhausted. "Thanks for telling me."

"Of course. You have a right to know."

"Do you want to go for a walk? I haven’t left the room since lunchtime. It would be nice to get some fresh air.”

“Sure,” you remove the pink clip and you’re quick to stand, immediately knocking over several giftboxes with your leg and causing a domino effect as they topple against other boxes one by one and they collapse over the floor loudly. You turn round to Leon with a wince. “Sorry.”

He laughs as he hops off the bed and grabs his white hoodie from his bedside table which he pulls over his head, slotting his arms in. “It’s alright. Let’s go.” Turning to Charizard, he says, "You wanna come along, bud?"

Charizard shakes his head, possibly because he knows he'll be a third wheel, so you and Leon head to the door and he opens it for you; still a gentleman, no matter what. You thank him, leave the room and he closes the door behind him.

“Let’s go this way.” Leon says, guiding you towards a corridor to your left.

He walks close beside you and your shoulders occasionally nudge together. The corridor’s wide enough and there’s no-one in your way but you both seem to be stepping in line together, gravitating towards each other and staying close.

Eventually, the corridor leads you to a large area where you see a number of patients sitting at tables playing chess, reading the newspaper, watching TV or walking around aimlessly.

As you walk with Leon, everyone greets him and waves.

You can only watch in silence as Leon greets them politely. Even though he’s only been in the hospital for a few hours or so he’s already made friends with everyone…. It’s a skill you wish you had for people usually look at you with disdain the moment they lay eyes on you and avoid you like the plague.

You pass an old man in a nightrobe, seated in a comfy-looking armchair who pipes up, “Hello Leon, is this your girlfriend?”

The two of you abruptly stop in your tracks, your jaws hanging open with shock. Leon’s face grows bright red before he splutters, “N-no, we’re just friends!”

And you don’t know what’s worse: how quick Leon had responded to the assumption or his words. Maybe both.

The old man merely chuckles and winks at him. “That’s what they always say at the beginning! I’ll be keeping my eye on you two, mark my words!”

You cringe like crazy, leaving the ward as quickly as possible and Leon heads towards a door that seems to lead to the exit. It’s a short trip but Leon does not make eye contact with you nor does he say anything until you have left the ward.

Leon has brought you to a large yard with a fountain in the middle. There’s also nobody here.

“Oh wow, this is nice,” you mutter, before you rush over to the fountain and peer over the ledge, gazing into the pool. A few Goldeen and Seaking are inside, swimming around gracefully.

Yep,” he agrees as he joins your side, grinning.

You see some Swanna swimming in a small group so you pull out some snacks from your bag and break it into smaller chunks, throwing tidbits into the water; the pokemon gather round the morsels and gobble them greedily.

Leon watches as you feed the pokemon happily before he rubs the back of his neck. “Hey, uh…I have something to tell you.”

“Yes?”

"Would you like to have dinner?"

Your eyes grow wide as you stop feeding the Swanna to stand up, facing him with your jaw hanging open. "D-dinner?!"

"Yeah. My family would like to meet you.”

"Oh. Right. Gotcha. Family with the dinner. Uh, I mean dinner with family."

"My mum wants to thank you for saving me and Hop really wants to meet you too,” Leon says whilst you mentally kick yourself, “I’m getting discharged first thing in the morning and Chairman Rose has given me a few days off so…it would be great if you could come over to my house for a barbecue tomorrow. It would mean a lot to them… and it would mean a lot to me as well.”

You’re stunned; his words have stolen your breath away but you manage to choke out a meek, “Really?”

“Yeah,” he replies, and as you gawk in silence, Leon’s cheeks grow pink and he slides his gaze to the side. “T-that is, if you’re free.”

You snap yourself out of your stupor and nod, “O-of course! Sure, I’d love to. That sounds great. Thank you, Leon.”

"Have you been to a barbecue before?"

"No."

"You're gonna love it," he replies with a wide smile on his face, causing your heart to thump harder than usual. “I’ll give you the time and send you my address later…I live in Postwick and my house is the biggest one on the right, you can’t miss it.”

You can’t help but giggle and soon it grows silent as you stand together, staring at each other again.

“...You’re really…different," Leon suddenly says.

"Different?"

"Yeah."

"Uh, you mean that in a good way or a bad way?"

"Good way, of course!" he exclaims quickly to shake off any misunderstandings, "I find it relaxing to be around with you."

"Oh, well, I've been told I have an old soul," you reply with a hum under your breath, and you wonder if that had anything to do with what he just said.

"And I saw what you did back in the cave with Froslass," Leon continues, "You’re an amazing person….it’s people like you who really help Galar during times of need. I want everyone to know that you saved my life if…if that’s okay with you.”

Your face grows hot at his compliment. “That’s very kind of you, Leon, but you don’t need to do anything for me and I’m not looking for any kind of reward. I-it’s my work, you know? Well, maybe not just work but…” As you struggle to explain yourself, fighting for words, he chuckles. You add, “Remember I told you that my line of work revolves around dead things?”

“Yeah.”

"People around me get hurt, Leon. And I don’t want you or anyone to get hurt because of me. People don’t understand.”

“I understand.”

“I know I have my blog but what I’m trying to say is – oh,” you pause at once, and he chuckles.

Following that, a nurse steps inside the yard and says, “Excuse me, Mr Champion? You have another visitor.”

You both throw your glance to the nurse as Leon acknowledges her and she departs. "I'll take my leave," you say, a tad reluctantly.

"Are you sure?"

"Yeah."

“Dinner tomorrow?”

You nod.

“Any allergies we should be aware of?”

You shake your head.

He plants his palm on your shoulder, giving you a firm squeeze. “Great! See you then. I’m looking forward to it,” he says, before he gives you a wink and your stomach does a backflip.

When you leave the hospital, you pass the gym leader of Hammerlocke in the corridor and he's with a rather timid-looking girl whom you believe is his girlfriend. You throw a quick glance at them but they don't seem to notice you, and you look at their hands which are entwined tightly together. You hear the girl talking about something or someone called 'Driffie'.

They must be visiting Leon. He knows so many people compared to you. Off the top of your head, you can only count Jace, Graves and Ezra. That's about it. You want some boy advice, but it's not a good idea to ask Graves or Ezra, so you might ask Jace later.

You’re confused and inwardly hating yourself for once again, mistaking Leon’s friendliness for perhaps flirting and hints of romantic feelings, the usual. It dawns to you that you had spent the entire time with Leon as a blushing mess and also, your heart wouldn’t stop thrashing against your ribs.

And when you arrive home, Magnolia’s asleep and Sonia’s lounging upstairs in the bedroom. You immediately rush up the stairs, opening the door wide.

“Sonnie,” you exclaim, and she looks up from her magazine, “I have been invited to a dinner tomorrow. Like a normal person.”

”That’s fantastic! With who?”

“Leon and his family. It's gonna be a barbecue. They want to thank me for finding him,” you reply, and Sonia’s eyes widens abruptly before she sits up. “Wait, no, why am I doing this? I...I shouldn't be associated with Leon. He might get hurt because of me. Oh wait, it's sort of happened already..."

"No, no! You should go. Come on, don't be like that..."

"O-okay, but I’m really nervous about this. Help me.”

“What do you mean? You’ll be fine! Just be yourself.”

“Be myself?” you utter, before your eyes bulge, “That’s the worst possible me I could be.”

Sonia shakes her head wildly. “Don’t be silly! Arceus, this is exciting!” she exclaims as she slides out of bed. “Do you have anything to wear?”

“No…but I do want to wear something nice though.”

She giggles. “Leave it to me! This is like those movies where the girl gets a makeover!”

“You don’t say,” is your reply as she hurries over to you, circling you and checking your hair and nails and your complexion. You add, “I need your help, Sonnie, but I want this to be as painless as possible.”

“Of course,” she utters as she continues to inspect you. Placing a hand under her chin, she snaps her fingers and smiles widely. “I know what to do!”

...

#leon #dande #leon x reader #Leon x you #reader #reader insert #comfort in despair #fanfic #fic #jeralee #archive of our own #pkmn #pokemon #pokemonshield #pokemonsword #pokemon shield and sword

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shes-an-oddbird · 4 years

Text

Evaluations

After escaping the time loops in 7x09, Mack and May take the time to evaluate Deke’s combat training, Daisy’s recovery and how well Sousa is adjusting to his new prosthetic.

I've literally been working on this, I think since 7x09 aired. I just really wanted to write May being protective of Daisy but also she's hyper aware of what's going through everyone's mind so it kept expanding. Seriously, Season 7 might be my favorite but we were robbed of May looking between Daisy and Sousa and just rolling her eyes so hard.

Also I love Deke dearly, he's just so easy to tease. If I wasn't so eager to have this done his part would be much longer.

AO3

Daniel picks up quickly on the fact that the team is mourning the loss of Enoch and decides its best to give them space. He had not known the – Man? Robot? Alien? – well, but he did know he was an important member of the crew and a friend. They needed time. So he picked up the device Simmons had given him to read up on the 70 some odd years of history he was unfamiliar with and departed to the rarely used sleeping quarters on the Zephyr.

It wasn’t long before he was asleep in the bunk they had given him. It wasn’t much but it was more comfortable than the metal chair he had been sleeping in. Not that sleeping in that chair hadn’t been his choice or that he wouldn’t do it again. He just couldn’t leave her side, not after what she’d been through. Besides, she was the type to rest for five minutes and call herself a hundred percent ready to go.

Daniel knew that type. Could see one a mile away.

Her well-being, that was his reason behind the ache in his neck and stiffness in his back.

Not his crush on her.

And there was definitely a crush. If his being woken from his slumber by an extremely vivid dream of kissing her was any indication.

He knew that he liked her. Pretty much from the moment he met her he was impressed and with every second spent with her since she amazed him even more. Still he hadn’t meant to fall like this. Not again. This was a feeling he hadn’t felt in a long time. And the kiss, that had felt almost real. More like a memory than a dream.

Regardless there was no falling back to sleep. Hours had passed, possibly even a whole night’s sleep worth. Had they jumped again? Someone would have told him. He wanders back out to the Zephyr’s command center and finds Agent Coulson and Agent Rodriguez silently observing the control panels.

“What’s going on, where is everyone?” Daniel asks as he tries to figure out what was so interesting on the large screens.

“There’s no count down.” Agent Rodriguez gestures to the timer.

“And there should be?” He still didn’t have a very good grasp of how it all worked but to be fair, it didn’t seem like they did either.

She nods. “According to Simmons, yes.”

“Where is everyone else?” Usually, at least as best he could say from the short time he’s been with them, the control center is always bustling.

“We’re waiting it out, hoping a new countdown will start but until then May and Mack are using the time to do evaluations.” Coulson explains.

“On?”

“Deke’s combat training and Daisy’s recovery.”

Oh. This takes him by surprise. Could Daisy really be up for training yet? He had seen up close what she went through and even with the healing chamber supposedly accelerating her recovery he wished she would take it easy.

“They’re down the hall if you want to join them, we were kicked out.” Agent Rodriguez looks more amused than irritated by this statement.

“Kicked out?”

“Simmons made us leave because we were making Deke self-conscious.” She adds with a roll of her eyes.

“Might be fun to watch, you’ve not had a chance to see May in action, at least not that you remember.” Daniel has tried very hard not to think about the time loops since the situation had been explained to them. The idea that there was all this time lost, hours upon hours of time helping Daisy and the others that he didn’t remember, it was unsettling. What had been said? Daisy had thanked him, said she couldn’t have solved it without him but didn’t elaborate. Still it would be good to familiarize himself with the team’s skill sets. And he was happy for a valid reason to seek out Daisy’s company. Maybe he could pry a bit more information out of her about the loops.

He took the narrow hallway down past the lab and med bay, enjoying the ease with which his new prosthetic allowed him to walk. It was incredible. Almost like the real thing. He could feel the sock and shoe on his foot, could wiggle his toes. The sensations, as simple as they were, were a little distracting. He nearly walked right past the gym.

As he came to the door he peered through the small window, inside he could see Agent May and Deke standing in the middle of a mat. He enters slowly, hoping not to disrupt. To his left are Mack, Simmons and Daisy. Mack is holding a clipboard in his hands and is marking down notes as May directs Deke to move one way or another.

“Good Morning Sunshine, sleep well?” Daisy’s voice chirps over the shouted commands from the mat. She’s sitting on the edge of a narrow table while Simmons does an examination on her. He considers leaving and coming back when she’s done. Daisy is dressed down to what he thinks must be modern day undergarments, but no one else in the room is bothered, Daisy herself seems comfortable, and Agent May, he realizes, is dressed similarly.

“How long was I out for?”

“Probably 6 hours, we weren’t going to wake you unless we decided to move to the Lighthouse.”

Daniel nods. “So what’s going on here, you okay?” He asks her but looks pointedly at Agent Simmons for an answer.

“I’m fine.”

“She’s better.” Simmons corrects.

“I’m fine.” Daisy repeats.

“She’s better.”

Daniel can tell immediately that this is an argument the girls have frequently.

“You are well enough for some basic training.”

“You might want to tell May that, she doesn’t go easy on anyone.”

As if on cue there is a yelp as May hauls Deke over her shoulder and the man lands flat on his back. “Ow!”

“Learning how to fall properly is part of training.” May explains as she takes a few breaths. She looks exhausted.

“Do you need a break Agent May?” Mack asks and Daniel knows he’s not the only one who has seen the look in her eyes.

“This is all him, not me.” She snaps back.

“Take a short one anyways.” Mack orders.

“Hey, I’m the one lying on the ground.” Deke complains as he pushes himself off the floor.

“Don’t worry Deke, you’re done for the day.”

“Finally.”

“For what it’s worth, I thought you did alright.”

Deke looks at him irritably. “What are you doing here, I thought we kicked all the spectators out?”

“Actually, if Agent Sousa’s is up for it, it might be good to see how you’re adjusting to the new leg.” Simmons suggests.

“That’s not a bad idea actually,” Mack agrees. He’s surprised by the suggestion but more than willing to submit to an evaluation. Personally, he’d like to know firsthand how his limitations have changed.

“Deke can show you wear to find some sweats.”

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

He returns to the small gym to find May and Daisy already sparring with each other and its honestly hard to look away. He doesn’t think he’s ever seen two people move so fast and so gracefully at the same time. Mack is watching the pair carefully, clearly taking in each move Daisy makes to make sure she’s as fine as she says she is. Simmons just looks nervous.

“You don’t think she’s up for this yet.” She signs heavily and shoots him a weak smile.

“I think even she knows she’s not.”

It was the answer he expected and did nothing to ease his worry.

But if there was anything he had learned about Daisy it was that she was determined. Strong and determined. She expertly dodged everything May threw at her, tumbling out of the way and giving back everything she got. He thinks its oddly pretty for fighting, dance-like even. In his experience hand to hand combat is brutal. He thinks of Peggy, slamming people into walls and knocking them senseless with whatever was in reach. He thinks of Jack Thompson who’d go at anyone with his fists until they were bruised and bloody. Even he wasn’t immune to it. Having been armed with blunt force weapon since he’d lost his leg, it was an easy go to. There was one person who comes to mind who fought with that sort of grace. A Russian assassin with a background in ballet.

Daniel is ripped from his thoughts when he sees May go to toss Daisy to the floor. Daisy tries to stop it, flipping into it. He hears a loud cry as her feet hit the ground and she stumbles back. A small quake shakes the room and May surges forward to catch her but instead they both crash to the ground. Simmons gasps and rushes on to the mat and Daniel is glad that she moves even faster than he does because it makes his own concern less obvious.

“Daisy!”

“What the hell was that?” May demands, quickly pushing herself up.

“You didn’t have to catch me.” Daisy bites back.

“You were terrified.”

“I was just – startled, most people are when they’re hurdling towards the ground.”

May sits back on her feet and watches Daisy wearily. “That’s not what that was.”

“I’m fine.” She says again. She is looking up at Simmons now and determinedly not at May.

“Then why haven’t you sat up.” Simmons scolds her. Daniel’s worry is starting to eat away at him. He really wants her to just pop back up like its no big deal. She groans and slowly eases herself up. She wobbles just a little and he can’t help it anymore. He kneels beside her and offers her a hand up, his other hand already supporting her from the middle of her back.

“I’m really okay, a little dizzy.”

“Let me run a couple quick tests.”

Daisy’s eyes squeeze shut. “I really don’t think – “

“How about a snack and some water.” Mack suggests. “Take a break, we’ll give it another go in a little while and if it happens again, Simmons gets to run her tests.” Daniel appreciates Mack’s tact. Agreeing readily, Daisy takes his hand and allows him to hoist her off the floor and back onto her feet. His hand hovers at her back even once she’s got her balance back.

Jemma still looks uncertain. “Fine, but a healthy snack.”

“Oh god, she going to give me an apple or rice cakes.” May’s already walked away to get her own water and Mack isn’t paying attention, so he realizes her words are directed at him. He smiles at her disdain for the health foods and finds himself wondering what her preferred snack of choice would be. She squeezes his hand and shoots him a smile. As she starts to follow Simmons her hand stays clasped in his until she’s out of reach and their hands fall back to their sides.

“May, go ahead and get started, I’m going to make sure she doesn’t put up too much of a fight.” Mack doesn’t look back and May doesn’t say anything at all, so Daniel turns his eyes on her. She’s watching him curiously from across the room.

May unnerves him. When it was explained to him exactly what was going on with her, her hyper empathy, feeling the emotions of those around her instead of her own, he didn’t believe it. But seeing with his own eyes just moments ago how Daisy’s fear had affected her, and earlier Deke’s exhaustion, he supposed he had to accept it as reality.

“How’s your hand to hand?” She steps up in front of him on the mat. Five minutes ago, he would have answered with a confident decent but after watching the pair spar...

“Rusty.”

“Your file gave you more credit than that.”

“I tried not to let the lack of appendage slow me down but there were definitely obstacles, I’m hoping this will help with that.” He gestures to the new prosthetic.

“Only if you trust it.” And with that she lunges at him. She is nowhere near him, not even trying to land a hit on him. She goes for his right side and rather than shift the weight to his left to avoid her he instinctively depends on his good leg, tripping over his own feet and ending up flat on the mat.

“Sorry.”

“Don’t be, you’ve spent more than a decade learning to not rely on that leg, I imagine that will be a hard habit to break.”

He senses her statement is unfinished. “But we will?”

“We will.”

He nods and climbs back to his feet, intentionally leading with the left leg.

He is fairly quick and has always been a fast learner. As he adjusts to leading with his left leg he manages to avoid May’s advances a little longer each time even if it’s still for no more than a few seconds. He does manage to take her by surprise once, catching her by her wrist on the way down and tossing her to the ground next to him. He thinks maybe she’s impressed or maybe she’s just impressed because he is with himself.

“Not afraid to knock me down, that good.”

“Why would I be?”

“That 1950’s mentality.”

“You think Peggy Carter would let me think that way for very long.”

He thinks he catches a small smile but its only for a second before they are back at it again. Over the next two rounds she must decide he feels a little too confident with himself and sends him to the ground by swiping his feet out from under him in less than a second.

“What did you mean earlier, when you told Daisy she wasn’t afraid of hitting the floor.” He asks as they start again.

“I know what if feels like to be afraid of falling, that’s not what I felt.”

“But what was it?” He hits the ground again. This time it hurts more. Like maybe her training gloves were off. Rather than holding out a hand as she had done every time before she stands above him, looking down at him, scrutinizing him.

“Why do you need to know?”

“I just want to be able to help her as best I can, if she needs it.”

He can’t tell if she believes him. She just glares at him as he returns to his feet once more.

“Its not a fear of falling, it’s a fear of failing.” May finally answers. “I could feel it, her technique was fine but she’s not fully recovered and she was wearing down more quickly than she normally would have, I know I trained her.” This doesn’t surprise him at all. The relationship between them definitely read like a balance between mentor and pupil and mother and daughter. “It’s normal, she needs more time, but it’s not completely unlike her to be irrational in her expectations for herself and she thinks she needs to be fine now, when she fell she was – I don’t know if she was afraid she wouldn’t be able to land that flip again or if it hit her all at once and she was afraid she’d never be a hundred precent again but whichever it was, it truly scared her.”

“But you said it, she just needs more time.”

“I also used the word irrational.” May reiterated. “I’m telling you this because she trusts you, I can feel that too, among other things,” she rolls her eyes and he knows that his crush on Daisy is not just his secret anymore, “but you genuinely want to be there for her and she might actually let you do that and if that’s the case I’m willing to give you any help I can provide.”

“She really means a lot to you.”

She doesn’t say anything, but she does nod.

Before Daniel can say anything in return the door swings open and Daisy bounces back into the room with Mack following behind her. A smile stretches across his face as Daisy’s eyes seek him out and she holds up the half-eaten apple in her hand.

He hears May scoff and the next thing he knows is that he’s lying on the mat again, staring up at the harsh overhead lights. There is a distant laugh and the light thump of more feet on the mat. Daisy appears above him looking just slightly concerned but mostly amused. “Did you even try to ease him into it?” She asks May.

“Didn’t need too.”

Daisy holds out a hand for him which he gratefully takes.

“She didn’t throw you around too much, did she?”

“Not at all.”

“You’re lying.” He is. For the first time in years his other body parts hurt just as much as his leg, maybe even more. “Wait, where are you going?” Daisy asks May as the woman leaves the mat. She picks up her water and takes a few long sips and then a few deep breaths.

“I can’t do it, if they’re going to be in the same room, you have to finish the evaluations.” And with that she leaves.

“What was that about?” Daisy crosses her arms and shifts her weight. Her tied back hair swings behind her and he can’t decide if its blonde or brown or some odd shade in between but whatever it is its safer to concentrate on than her exposed shoulders and bare midriff. He blinks at her several times before he can comprehend the four simple words she’s said.

“My fault,” he answers suddenly, “I think, I mean I’m pretty overwhelmed with my leg and everything, if she can feel that – its probably disconcerting for her.” That sounded better than she couldn’t deal with the second-hand feelings from his crush on her daughter-figure.

Daisy turns her attention on him. She has that look in her eyes again. The same one she had when she thanked him after they had escaped the time loops. Like she knows something he doesn’t. “Yeah, that’s probably it.”

“Sousa, you okay to go a few more rounds so I can check Daisy’s progress?”

He looks from Mack to Daisy. She tilts her in question, “you up for it?”

“Of course, whatever you need.” Her smile softens and he recalls May’s words. You genuinely want to be there for her, and she might actually let you. Daniel really hopes she’s right.

#aos fic #dousy

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emwriterblr · 4 years

Text

welcome to my world

part two

gif is mine, please don’t repost

word count: 3.2K pairing: javier pena x oc warning(s): alcohol consumption notes: finally some proper javi interactions in this chapter!

In the week following the Medellin trip, Steve, Javier, and Elena fell into an easy routine. There was a part of Elena that thought bringing in a new partner might create some tension. A new pair of eyes meant a whole new perspective on the job at hand. But Steve made it easy. He listened to what Elena and Javier conveyed to him and was quick to agree with them. And she was grateful for it. God knows she didn’t have the headspace to deal with another hot-headed partner too stubborn to see eye to eye with them. And it was nice to know that she had someone else to help with dealing with Pena.

However, in the midst of adjusting to being a newly formed trio, Elena didn’t miss the mood shift with Javier. It didn’t affect his work ethic. God, no. If anything, he became more focused during those high-stressed moments. But he wasn’t like this because of the long hours at work. Or maybe it was a part of it. Elena knew he was still mulling over what happened with the informant. And given the bags under his eyes, sleep had been alluding him as well. It made her heartache. She never breathed a word about what happened to him after that night. She knew his boundaries and the last thing she wanted was to piss him off or upset him even more.

So she found another way to combat the ever-present worry she had for her partner.

Elena kept a mindful eye on him during that week, deciding to make work just a little more tolerable for him. Each time she saw he had finished a cup of coffee, she would get him a new one. Whenever Javier would smoke through his entire pack, Elena would slip him hers without looking up from her paperwork. The first couple of times he didn’t question it. But soon, Javier caught onto the attentiveness of it all and it made him curious. It was unwarranted. A few times he thought about asking her about it. Each time he would try, she would merely smile at him and return to work. It was strange. She wasn’t doing it for Murphy and their new partner didn’t seem bothered by it either.

After a particularly exhausting day, Elena was the last of the group to leave the embassy. Steve had left early to pick up Connie from work and take her home. After the whole incident with their cat, he didn’t like Connie being home by herself, if he could help it. And Elena couldn’t blame him for being worried. Elena was home that day, enjoying one of the few relaxing days she planned for herself when there was a loud banging at her door. Needless to say, Elena was confused to find a disheveled Steve standing on the other side of her door. He asked her if she could stay with Connie while he went back to the embassy. Explaining how someone had broken into their apartment and killed their cat. Not exactly what she expected to hear, regardless, she agreed and stayed with Connie until Steve returned. It was a whole fiasco with them trying to figure out who was responsible. But the situation was dealt with. Still, it understandably rattled the couple.

Gathering up the multiple folders skewed across her desk, Elena stashed them into the desk drawers and left the embassy. On the walk to her car, she glanced down at her watch and cursed to herself. It was already 7:30 and she was due at Steve and Connie’s for dinner at 6:30. Steve had invited her and Javier over at the insistence of Connie. But Steve knew the workload was a lot today. Hopefully, they’ve been keeping themselves occupied.

Elena didn’t bother changing clothes once she got to the complex. She merely jogged up the stairs to Connie and Steve’s apartment. Luckily, she arrived just in time. She was guided to the table by Steve, where Javier had already found his perch, and Connie offered her a glass of wine. She took it without hesitation. The dinner started off well. Javier spent a good amount of time sharing a few stories. Some he hadn’t even told Elena yet. Then, Connie and Steve spent about fifteen minutes sharing details of their lives. Steve indulged her and Javier about how he had met Connie. A quite impressive story, really.

“You put down your real number?” Elena asked.

Connie took a drink from her glass, shrugging and smiling at the question. “I thought I’d take a shot, he didn’t know that it was my real number.”

“Yeah, not until I called that night.”

Elena shook her head and smirked, “Well, look at you two. A real modern love story indeed.”

“And what about you, Elena?”

“Oh,” Elena waved off Connie’s question. “I don’t have any kind of relationship stories like that.” Most of her relationships were impulsive ones, never ones that were to be taken seriously.

“That’s a bummer, but I was talking about yourself.” Connie paused briefly to think of a question. “Do you have any siblings?”

Oh right, it got to that part of the conversation. She always felt awkward with telling facts about herself to people. She had been rather selective with Javier when she first transferred. Sharing only simple things that were easy to digest. “Yeah, I have an older brother. A few cousins but, other than that, it’s a pretty small family.”

“Where you from?”

“New York.” Memories of her childhood came flooding back. It almost felt like a smack across the face. “Both my grandparents immigrated from Spain in the early ’20s. Dad worked as a mechanic and mom was a nurse.” Both normal and commendable jobs.

Connie seemed to be thinking the same thing. “Then, led you to end up being a DEA agent?”

“A friend of mine, she had a cousin who was working as a federal agent. He’d share a few things with us,” she shrugged, using her fork to push around the food on her plate. “I guess I liked the idea. So after graduating from college, I went for it. Worked my ass off to get there.” She couldn’t stress the last bit enough. Connie was quick to catch on and she raised her glass to her. “And then Nixon signed the proposition in ‘73. I continued to work my way through the department. My supervisor thought I would be good at it.” She glanced across the table, finding Javier’s eyes were on her, his lips stretched in the softest smile. It actually made her heart beat faster.

“When did you come down here?” Connie had grabbed the wine bottle and started to refill everyone’s glasses.

Elena’s eyes remained on Javier, the answer dancing around her tongue for a moment. “About eight months ago.” She raised her fork and pointed it at the man across from her. “It was hell working with that one the first few months.”

Javier brows creased in mock hurt, it made everyone at the table chuckle. “It wasn’t that bad.”

“I beg to differ, he was a know-it-all hot head,” she reached for her glass, pausing briefly to shrug her shoulders. “Still is a little bit.”

“Takes one to know one, right?” Javier’s smile grew.

She could hear Connie and Steve snicker at Javier’s statement. And she tried to suppress the grin that appeared but failed, miserably. Elena bunched up her napkin and tossed it at him. He swatted it away before reaching into his pocket for his cigarettes. And for the first time in the last week, she finally saw him relax. His shoulders no longer hunched with tension, tired eyes were now lively. She was glad to see it. But it didn’t take long for it to slowly deplete again. He didn’t really engage in their conversations unless a question was directed at him. Elena wasn’t sure if Connie or Steve could sense it, but it was ringing loud and clear for her. This is what happens when he allows himself to get so caught up in his thoughts.

Before they knew it, it had already reached past 11:00 and with all of them expected at work in the morning, they decided to call it a night. Javier was the first to leave as Elena was exchanging final sentiments with Connie. She has already taken a great liking to the young woman. Vouching that they needed to have dinner again, and perhaps another time for just the two of them. Connie agreed wholeheartedly.

Another hasty goodbye between the women, an ‘I’ll see you tomorrow’ to Steve, and Elena was making her way down the stairwell. She pulled out her keys and strolled up to her apartment door. After what happened in Steve’s apartment, she found herself glancing over her shoulder a couple of times. The fucking American Embassy owned this building. One would think it would have better security. But of course, it doesn’t. As she began to mess with the locks, she turned her head to look at Javier’s door down the hallway. She paused to glance down at her watch then hummed to herself. There’s no way he’s asleep. He didn’t have much of a sleep schedule anyway, despite her telling him to get one.

She pushed open the door, stripped off her blazer and hung it on the coat rack. Then, she ventured into the kitchen and pulled open the fridge, pulled out two beers, then walked out of her apartment. She made the short trek down the hall and knocked on the door. Careening her head towards the door, she could hear calm footsteps approaching. When the lock was being fumbled with, she stepped back. The door opened enough for her to see Javier’s face peering out and he looked a little confused. In response, she raised the two beer bottles and smiled. “Beer talk.”

Javier huffed out a breath, his hand pinching the bridge of his nose. “You know it’s getting late.”

“Huh,” her head tilted to the side in thought. “Since when did you really care about how late it is.” She saw a ghost of a smile returning but it never made a full appearance.

Javier silently regarded her, he had the mind to tell her he was too tired. That he’d rather try and force himself to sleep. But the expectant smile on her face was enough to win him over. He stepped back and opened the door enough for her to slide in. “Not gonna lie, I was starting to get a headache about halfway through dinner.” Javier declared as he lazily walked into the kitchen.

“Well, then it’s a good thing I’m here.” Elena used her foot to kick the door closed, then followed her partner into the kitchen. “This should help you sleep tonight.”

Javier turned and leaned up against the counter, his hand washed down the side of his face, he barely managed to stifle a yawn. There was a part of her that did feel bad. He looked like shit. She knew that he hadn’t gotten much sleep in the past week. And with how bloodshot his eyes were, it was safe to say that his body was currently hating him for it.

She rolled onto her tiptoes a few times, suddenly feeling embarrassed. Maybe this wasn’t such a good idea. “If you really don’t feel good, I can leave, Javi.” She offered, her voice quiet and timid. “I just know this past week… you’ve been a little down.” Was that the right term to use? “I just thought maybe you’d want to talk.”

He appeared somewhat grateful. It was hard to tell given how tired he looked. Regardless, he shook his head and took the beer bottles from her. Elena sat on the counter next to him and took the bottle that was offered back to her. She allowed him to simmer in silence for a bit, her thumb tracing the rim of the bottle. It felt like she was going to set off a bomb for asking him, but she summoned the courage.

“Have you gone to see her?” She eyed him carefully, seeing the reaction that washed over his face.

Finally, he nodded. “Yeah, a couple of times.”

Elena exhaled a deep breath, not realizing that she had been holding it in. That was a promising start. “How’s she doing?”

“As good as one might expect.”

Elena really hoped that was the case. “Has the Ambassador signed off on her visa yet?”

“Given that she didn’t have the info--” Javier stopped, digging his teeth into his bottom lip. He shook his head before taking a big drink from his bottle. “I’m gonna try and talk with her again tomorrow.”

She took that as her answer. Fuck. “Don’t blame yourself, Javi.” Now, she felt like she was walking a very fine line with continuing to talk about it.

“She was trying to get info because I asked her to.”

“She made the choice to help you.” Elena clarified. “You didn’t force her to do anything. It’s not your fault and it’s not her fault either. The people whose fault it is… they’re dead. As they should be.” A rather grim declaration to make. But these were men who would gladly commit atrocious crimes for the right price. Who felt they were above everyone else. That they could treat everyone like shit. These people didn’t have an ounce of empathy from her. And if the average person experienced some of the things she’s seen down here, they would have the same fucked up outlook on life.

In an unguarded moment, Elena thought back to Cristina. The promise she had made to keep her safe and get her into the states as fast as possible. She had given Elena a tip that would have led them to one of Escobar’s sicarios. Word got out of the tip and delivered to Escobar. It happened so fast. Elena was on the other side of town following up on another lead, while Javier was the one who went to Cristina’s residence. He was the one who had to tell Elena what had happened. Something that he would never forget.

The corners of Elena’s lips twitched at the memory. A pit formed in her stomach causing her to finally take a drink from her beer. “You know the ones we take in as informants… they know it’s dangerous. They know that there’s always the possibility that it could catch up to them. And we can try to protect them as much as we can. But… there’s only so much we can do.” She glanced over at Javier, seeing that he was taking in her words, mulling over them. It’s never possible to fully protect another human being. “You got to her in time. She’s alive. And, hopefully, she’s going to be fine.”

She’s going to be fine. Yeah, he fucking hoped so. Javier silently stared down at the bottle in his hands before finishing off what was left. He eyed the empty bottle, not sure if it was all the alcohol he had drank tonight or the exhaustion, but the next words fell from his mouth before he could stop them. “You’re not responsible for what happened to Cristina either.” He cringed at himself the minute he said it. But he knew Elena well enough to know that the young woman has crossed her mind a few times this past week. How could she have not?

There was an odd peace that fell over her upon hearing those words. Granted, he’s said those words to her multiple times in the last five months. Yet, somehow, they hit a different nerve after hearing them now. She had come to peace with what had happened. Did she still feel guilty? Of course. Cristina had two young children who got left behind. She only wanted a better life for her kids. Now, they were going to grow up without their mother. Elena knew that this guilt will never go away. She was going to live with it for the rest of her life. “I know.” She finally answered. “I’ve finally been able to come to terms with what happened with Cristina. And you will come to your senses with this too.”

A thick silence followed soon after. The two of them normally don’t go this deep with their beer talks. Looking back, most of these talks involved with them throwing verbal punches at each other. Doing whatever it takes to rile the other one up. This talk was a big shift and she didn’t really mind it. And neither did Javier. Elena took a moment to check the time and it really was getting late. She scooted off the counter, took Javier’s empty beer bottle and disposed of it. Hers was still half full, she would finish it over at her apartment. She went to stand in front of him, he really looked to be on the verge of falling asleep right then. “I’m gonna head back.”

He nodded silently. “Nice talk.”

“I’m always here if you need it.”

He chuckled. “You know I’m not really one to indulge in this kind of stuff.”

“I know,” she smiled. “But it helps, doesn’t it?”

He didn’t answer her because she was right. It helps a lot. And she’s the only one who managed to get him to open up, even if it was only a little bit.

She saw his eyes begin to close, and she had to admit, he looked kind of adorable. Dozing off like that. Elena raised a hand and pressed it against his cheek, effectively snapping him back to reality. His eyes were glazed over and unfocused when they found hers. But her hand remained in place, her thumb brushing against his cheek. “Get some sleep, Javi. I’ll see you in the morning.”

That was new. That kind of physical contact. He wasn’t quite sure what warranted her to do it. But he’d be lying to himself if he said that he didn’t enjoy it. He felt himself barely lean into her touch just as she pulled her hand away. And he felt disappointed. A feeling that instantly confused him. It’s a good thing she didn’t notice it. Javier walked her to the door, trying to steady his heart. As she stepped out the door, Javier was finally able to gather his bearings. He peered his head out, watching as she made her way back to her apartment. “Goodnight, Ana.”

Elena stopped in front of her apartment door and turned back to look at him. Her lips stretching into a smile at him using his nickname for her. “Goodnight, Javi.”

With that, she disappeared into her apartment.

Javier closed and locked his door. Then, headed straight for his bedroom. The entire way his hand had rubbed at the cheek where her hand had been. It suddenly felt cold. That sense of longing started to creep back into his stomach. He shook his head. God, what are you doing, Pena? Maybe tonight he will get some decent sleep because he definitely needs it.

...........

tag list: @stevieharrrr, @absurdthirst, @caitlincat-95, @mrsparknuts, @valhallavalkyrie9, @ahopelessromanticwritersworld, (let me know if you want to be added!)

#javier pena x oc #javier pena fanfic #javier pena #wtmw #we got some angst coming up in a few chapters #also I listened to surrender by natalie taylor #while writing this and i was EMo

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bangtan-sonyeonddaeng · 5 years

Text

Jungkook Scenario| You are the cause of my euphoria

You ever have that person in your life that you meet, and just instantly you're like.. this person right here is gonna be my best friend? Well that person for me is @skecjj2019 So! I am writing this little scenario here for my best friend, my platonic soulmate, the Jungkook to my Jimin. Writing a scenario is honestly the least I feel like I can do for someone as kind, caring, and precious as her. Since day 1 she has been nothing but an absolute angel and a blessing to me. To have someone in your life who whole heartedly accepts you despite your flaws, encourages you to be your best self on a daily basis, talks to you all day every day and not get sick of you, when you’re having a bad day and will literally do or say anything to cheer you up. It’s more than I could ever hope to have in my life. I hope I am even half as good of a friend to her as she is to me. So, this is for you. I purple you, and I hope you enjoy your story. (ps sorry I suck and it took me so long to write love you 💜)

Jungkook was running late to rehearsal for their show. It was the first day in Chicago for their Love Yourself tour. The other members had struggled to wake him up that morning and eventually just told him to rest and make it to the arena as soon as he could muster up the energy to get out of bed. It was now an hour past the time he was supposed to be there. He quickly called Namjoon to apologize and let him know he would be leaving the hotel shortly.

“Hyung I am so sorry. I don’t know what’s wrong with me this morning.”

“It’s alright Jungkook. We’re all exhausted and tired but you really went too hard at the last show. You needed to rest and we all understand that.”

“Yeah! But it wouldn’t hurt if he got us all coffee to make up for it!” He hears Yoongi shout from the distance.

“Alright. I’ll go grab enough for all of us. I’ll be there soon I promise!” He quickly changes into his sweats and a large white t-shirt, putting comfort over all else. It was going to be a long day of rehearsals for the show tonight. He pulls on a face mask and his black bucket hat and heads out of the hotel. He has a guard with him even though he is hoping no one will recognize him.

On the way to the arena he passes a cafe that looks mostly empty. He decides this is a good place to go where he hopefully won’t be recognized. He opens the door and hears the familiar sound of bells ringing as he does. He walks up to the counter and orders 7 coffees, much to the barista’s surprise. He smiles sheepishly and walks over to the end of the counter to wait for his drinks.

He’s staring at the door when suddenly you walk in. Now in his rational mind, he knows that the bells he hears are just the ones tied to the top of the door. But as he looks at you and sees the bright smile on your face and the way your eyes seem to sparkle even though there is no light shining on them, he begins to question things. Ever since watching Your Name he couldn’t get the idea out of his head that he would hear bells ringing when he met his soulmate. And here you were, dressed casually in sweats and a t-shirt just like him, and he thinks you look absolutely beautiful.

To say he was smitten was an understatement. At this point you had caught him openly staring at you and looked away shyly. When you brought your gaze back up and saw him still staring at you, you brought your hand up to wave before ordering your drink as well.

“Sir.. sir!” He’s snapped out of his daze as he sees the barista handing him his drink carriers. He bows and thanks her but still can’t keep his eyes off of you. His guard next to him clears his throat and asks him if everything is okay.

“Yeah, fine. Um. Here take these for a minute will you?” He practically shoves the drink carriers into guard’s hands and walks over to you. It isn’t until he is standing right in front of you that he realizes he has no idea what to say to you without sounding like a creep.

Hi, I saw a movie once and I heard the bells ring when you walked into the cafe and I think you’re meant to be my soulmate just didn’t cut it. Thankfully he didn’t have to say anything as you broke the ice first.

“You do that an awful lot.”

“Huh?” He tilts his head at you, slightly confused.

“You just stare, with a blank look on your face. What’s going on up there in that brain of yours?” You playfully flick his forehead and he brings his hand up to rub the spot. You giggle at him and his heart rate increases at the sound.

“Um.. Sorry. I don’t even know what to say I just.. you’re really pretty and I was wondering if I could get your name?”

“It’s y/n.” He says your name out loud and smiles as he does. You decide that you love the way your name sounds being spoken from his lips.

“Pretty name.”

“Thank you. And what about you? What’s your name?”

“It’s Jung-“ The man in the suit standing behind him clears his throat loudly.

“Jungkook we need to go. The other members are waiting for you and it’s way past rehearsal time.” You feel your heart drop into your stomach. They must have assumed you didn’t understand Korean and would’t know what they were saying.

“I’m sorry did he just say your name is Jungkook? As in Jeon Jungkook?” You see a look of concern and worry flash over his face. His already wide, doe eyes seem to grow even larger. “Oh! Don’t worry I won’t say anything! Your secret is safe with me, I promise.” He seems to relax at that.

“Thank you..”

“You’re welcome. I’ll see you at the show tonight?”

“You’re going?”

“Of course! I somehow managed to score a front row seat so I’ll be right up there cheering you on.” You can tell by the way his eyes are crinkling and his nose his scrunching up that he’s smiling at you. You have the sudden urge to poke his nose but resist even though it feels like it physically hurts you to do so.

“I’ll see you there then. Goodbye for now y/n.” You notice some Army have walked into the cafe as they are wearing BT21 head bands. You press a finger to your lips and wave goodbye to him.

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

“Jungkook what took you so long to get here!”

“I’m sorry Namjoon. I got caught up at the cafe..”

“Did any fans notice you? Are you okay?”

“I’m fine. Just one did but.. she’s different.”

“Different how?”

“Okay you’re going to think this is really stupid but I heard the bells.” Somewhere behind him Yoongi snickers.

“You mean the bells on the cafe door?”

“Yoongi…” Namjoon scolds him.

“It’s fine hyung. Anyway yeah they were the bells on the cafe door but still! She was really pretty. And sweet and when the other army came into the cafe she didn’t give anything away. And she’s coming to the show tonight, front row! It’s like fate was just trying to bring us together.”

“You barely know this girl Jungkook..”

“But I want to know her better. I’m telling you guys I really think this was a sign or something.”

“Well, we’re here for a few more days. Find a way to contact her after the show. Right now your head needs to be here with us. Okay?” Jungkook nods and blazes through rehearsal, nailing the choreography and his vocals. When he’s back stage waiting for the screen to part and reveal them he finds himself sneaking glances at the crowd, trying to find you. He spots you to the right of the stage, waving your army bomb and cheering loudly. He can’t help but smile and feels butterflies fluttering in his stomach. He tells himself it’s just nerves from having to perform but deep down he knows better.

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

Part of you couldn’t believe earlier at the cafe had even happened. But from the way he kept smiling at you, sneaking glances, and spending way more time on your side of the stage you knew you weren’t imagining things. You met your idol, the man you looked up to more than anyone. And the one you had grown to feel so fondly for even if you didn’t know him personally. His kind heart and the way he treated his fans had drawn you in almost immediately. You spent the entire show with your eyes locked on him. During Euphoria you couldn’t help but get emotional and cry because BTS was your euphoria too. You were dancing along to the songs, yelling the fan chants, and happily singing along.

When it came time for the final song you felt yourself feeling sad that you were going to have to say goodbye. It seemed like Jungkook kept battling with himself about something he was thinking about doing. He suddenly turned towards you, your heart rate picked up as you wondered what he was doing. The last thing you were expecting was for Jungkook to run off the stage and walk towards you. He pretends to just reach out and grab your hand, and then does the same with other army around you but you feel him place a slip of paper in your hand. You clutch it tightly and hold it your chest, not wanting to reveal anything where others might see. As they are bowing and walking off stage it doesn't sneak past your notice that Jungkook blows a kiss in your direction.

Your still in a daze, feeling so incredibly happy that you finally got to see the group that had such a huge impact on your life. When you get back to your hotel you open up the slip of paper in your hand and read what he has written to you.

Can you meet me back at the cafe tomorrow morning at 10:00? I want to see you again. Your eyes widen as you read the words on the paper. Jungkook wants to see you again? Are you hallucinating? You rub your eyes and sure enough, the words are still there written on the paper.

“10:00?? Why does that man wake up so early after a concert my god.” You find yourself saying aloud. You snuggle in under the covers, hugging your Cooky plushy tightly before you drift off to sleep.

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

You wake up the next morning to your alarm going off. You almost shut it off until you remember the very reason you are waking up this early in the first place. You quickly get ready and head back to the cafe. The doors open and you find that Jungkook is already there, sitting at one of the tables closest to the window. He turns his gaze towards the door and even though the bottom of his face is covered you can tell he’s smiling by the way his eyes are crinkling up at the corners. You walk over and sit down across from him.

“I was worried you weren’t going to come.” He hands you your drink and you stare at him, surprised.

“Why wouldn't I?”

“I feel like most people would either be intimidated, or freaking out and you’re just so.. calm?”

“I mean yeah you’re famous but you're just a normal human Jungkook. I idolize you for your kindness and how hard working you are but I don’t put you above anyone else you know?” He reaches across the table and squeezes your arm lightly.

“Thank you for that. It’s refreshing to just have someone talk to me like a normal person.” You place your hand on top of his and lightly squeeze it as he did to your arm moments ago, a show of comfort and understanding. You two sit in a comfortable silence after that, sipping your drinks before Jungkook breaks the quiet.

“So did you like the show?”

“Did I like the sh- You guys were amazing! Seriously you are all so talented and kind and humble, it’s such an inspiration. You guys actually inspired me to better myself and taught me how to love myself. To just be unapologetically myself and not care what other people think about me. I don’t think I would ever be able to thank you all enough for what you’ve done for me and the positive influence you have had on my life.. I’m sorry I’m rambling aren't I?” Jungkook shakes his head and it seems the smile just is never going to leave his face.

“It means a lot to me to hear that. I mean we read comments like that a lot, but to hear from someone just how much we have helped them in their own voice, it just makes everything more.. real?”

“I get what you mean.” You both get quiet again as you try to muster up the courage to ask him what has been on your mind since you read that note last night.

“You look deep in thought about something..”

“I just was wondering why did you want to see me again? Why did you approach me in the first place?” You notice the tips of his ears turning red as if he’s embarrassed. “Hey, it’s okay you don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to.”

“I just.. thought you were really pretty and I just felt drawn to you for some reason.” You can't help but blush at his praise.

You both fall into comfortable conversation after that. Talking back and forth about anything and everything that comes to your minds. You both find out that you actually have a lot in common. By the time afternoon rolls around your sides and cheeks are aching from smiling so much. Jungkook reluctantly glances at his phone and notices the time.

“Do you have to go?”

“Yeah.. we have another show tonight but I convinced them to give me the morning off so I could meet with you.”

“Jungkook you didn’t have to do that! I know how important your work and performing is to you.” He waves his hand dismissively at your comment.

“It’s nothing y/n. I just really wanted to see you again and I am glad I did. You’re truly amazing and so passionate and incredibly kind. I feel honored to be able to call you a fan of mine.” You feel tears pricking at the corners of your eyes but you quickly blink them away. He stands up from the table and pulls you up into a hug. You wrap your arms around him tightly, not wanting to let go just yet. Almost as if he's able to read your mind Jungkook speaks up.

“I don’t want this to be the last time I see you or talk to you..”

“Me either.” He pulls away from you and hands you his phone. You don’t hesitate to put your contact information in there. You hand him your phone and he does the same for you.

“You aren’t going to get in trouble for doing this are you?” He shrugs and puts his phone back in his pocket.

“Even if I do, you’re worth it to me.” You can’t help but lean up and place a quick peck on his cheek.

“I guess I’ll be talking to you soon then, Jungkook?” He fidgets with his hands as he tries to figure out the words he wants to say.

“Are you.. would you mind staying in the city for a little bit longer? We have two days off after the show tonight and I really just want to spend more time with you.”

“I think I can do that for you.” You say with a smirk. Suddenly Jungkook’s phone starts ringing.

“Ah sorry. I really need to go now or my hyungs will kill me.” You smile at him and wave.

“Alright, go on then. Text me later?” He nods and waves at you before heading out the cafe doors. You stare out the window and soon you hear your phone notification go off. You look down and see a message and feel your heart skip a beat when you realize the contact name Jungkook had saved himself as in your phone.

My euphoria.

#BTS reaction #BTS reactions #BTS scenario #BTS scenarios #BTS imagine #BTS imagines #jeon jeongguk #jeon jungkook #Jungkook x reader #reader x jungkook #Jungkook scenario #Jungkook imagine #Jungkook reaction

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fernwehbookworm · 3 years

Text

Haunted- Chapter 3

“I don’t know what to tell you Kar. There is no one here, no forced entry, nothing.”

“How do you explain the mirror then?” Kara paces in her apartment while her sister continues to check every corner of her apartment.

“I don’t know. There isn’t anything there anymore. Normally smudges like that will stay until you clean it, at least a little, but I tried to fog it up and it's as clean as a whistle.”

“I’m telling you, it was there.”

“I’m sure it was. You don’t overreact. But I don’t know what to tell you.”

Kara collapses on her couch groans, her head hurt from lack of sleep and stress. Kara pinches the bridge of her nose and scrunches her eyes tight. Kara feels her sister sit next to her.

“You can come stay with me. Kelly has been spending a lot of time at the office anyway, helping prep some new technology for Obsidian to release next year.”

“Yeah, yeah okay. I’m going to pack a bag real quick. Can Streaky come? It's supposed to storm all week.”

“The stray?”

“Is he really a stray when he lives his best life?”

Alex laughs “Yeah, he just conned you into feeding and housing him.”

“And he returns the favor with love and affection.” Kara looks at the cat in question, lounging on the loveseat, in a weak sunbeam, purring contentedly.

“If he makes you feel better then yes, bring him. But he pees on one thing and it's back outside.”

“He isn’t a dog, Alex. He goes in the litter box just fine.”

Alex makes a face but relents. Kara goes to pack some clothes and toiletries and Alex grabs the cat’s belongings. Kara was right, dark clouds were already descending upon the city to start the week of rain and storms.

With a bag over one shoulder and a cat under the other, Kara leaves her apartment with her sister. She could be overreacting, but the mirror thing was too creepy to ignore. And Kara had to work on this article, already Snapper was criticizing her rough drafts and decimenting her sentence structure. Kara was already dreading the emails she knows are piled in her inbox from her editor. Kara called off work and just knew Snapper would not be happy with it. In order to keep the screaming to a minimum, Kara was going to have to have the first draft done by tomorrow.

“Okay,” Alex says when they get to her apartment. “Will you be fine by yourself? I have to go to work.”

“Yes. I feel better already.” Kara lets Streaky go and he immediately lands and scurries off to explore the new space.

“If you need it, you still know the safe code right?”

Kara scrunches her nose, “Yes, not that I like guns.”

“You have a Federal Agent for a sister.” Alex rolls her eyes. “It's just in case. I don’t know what is happening but I want you to protect yourself if you need to.”

“I will, Al. Go on to work. I’m just going to work on my article. Maybe take a nap.”

“Yes, please sleep. You look exhausted. Help yourself to food too.” Alex kisses her sister’s forehead. “Goodbye, call me if you need anything.”

“I will. Be safe”

Alex flashes a smile before leaving. Kara does feel better here, in her sister's home. It's full of love and memories of game nights. Also, Kara knows where at least six weapons are hidden that Alex made sure that Kara (and now Kelly) were trained to use. Kara turns the lock on the door and raids the fridge for snacks and something to drink before settling into work.

After about two hours, Kara’s eyes are beginning to droop and her yawns are uncontainable. “Okay, 20-minute nap. Then right back to work.” Kara mumbles to herself.

Kara settles on Alex’s super comfortable sectional and pulls a blanket off the back of it. As soon as Kara is comfortable, Streaky jumps onto her stomach and begins to purr. Kara runs her hands through soft fur and allows the motion and vibration to lull her into a much needed nap.

Welcome to the Hotel California

Such a lovely place (such a lovely place)

Such a lovely face

Plenty of room at the Hotel California

Any time of year (any time of year)

You can find it here

Kara wakes with a start. The warmth on her stomach is gone and there is music playing.

Her mind is Tiffany-twisted

She got the Mercedes Benz, uh

She got a lot of pretty, pretty boys

That she calls friends

How they dance in the courtyard

Sweet summer sweat

Some dance to remember

Some dance to forget

Kara locates the record player that Streaky is sitting next to and intensely staring at as the record spins round and round. He must have turned it on by accident. The cat tended to be too curious for his own good. With a sigh, Kara stands and goes to turn it off, picking up the car and moving him to the floor. Streaky protests but Kara ignores him. Upon inspection, nothing seems damaged. If Alex would kick Streaky out for peeing on something, she would shoot him for scratching one of her vinyl records.

Awake now, Kara sets back to work, determined to at least finish the first draft before five. Around noon, Kara helps herself to leftovers in Alex's fridge and continues working. Kara is deep into her final paragraphs when the TV clicks on, blaring sound. Kara practically leaps from her chair as the creepy piano plays.

You unlock this door with the key of imagination.

Beyond it is another dimension- a dimension of sound, a dimension of sight, a dimension of mind.

You're moving into a land of both shadow and substance, of things and ideas.

You've just crossed over into . . . the Twilight Zone.

Kara feels as if her heart is beating in her throat and her stomach has fallen through the floor. Streaky is on the back of the couch, half laying on the remote.

"Boy… are you trying to scare me to death?" Kara laughs to herself and rescues the remote from under the cat and turns off the TV. Just ten more minutes of work and she will be done. Sending it off to Snapper to be covered in notes and changes and insults. But that is a problem for tomorrow. Tonight, Kara is going to make dinner for her sister and her sister's girlfriend and try and put this morning behind her.

Kara must be more tired then she thinks she is, even with the nap she had. All while making dinner she drops half a dozen utensils and misplaces just as many things. She could have sworn the bell peppers were right next to the cutting board as she chopped the carrots, but when she went to grab them they were on the counter behind her next to the stove. The peeler fell to the floor without Kara even touching it and the sharp knife followed a few minutes later, almost striking her foot on its dangerous journey down.

Kara was clumsy and a bit forgetful at the best of times, adding in only about eight hours of sleep in the last forty-eight hours, and Kara was a God damn hazard. But Kara was determined to make this chicken stir fry as a 'Thank you' to her sister. By 6:30 everything is done and staying warm in the oven and Kara waits for Alex, her sister had texted her about fifteen minutes ago that Alex was leaving work. Kelly would be about an hour more. Another ding of Kara's phone. Kara checks and it's a text from Jess, letting her know that L-Corp released more information to the reporters.

Kara decides to browse the new information while she waits. Picking up the green pen she had taken from L-Corp, Kara sets to taking more notes. She always found it was better to handwrite things first, it helps the information sink into her brain before transferring it to a digital format. Movement out of the side of her eye breaks Kara from her concentration. With a gasp, Kara sees Lena pacing by Alex's balcony door. But as soon as Kara focuses on her, Lena is gone with a blink. A chill passes down Kara's spine. Kara throws down her pen and tries to calmly walk to the kitchen for some water.

"I'm just overtired. That's it. Too focused." Kara mumbles to herself between sips of the cool liquid.

"Hey!" Alex calls and Kara jumps with a small yelp.

Alex throws her a questioning look from the front door and immediately scans the apartment for danger. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah. Fine. Just been working too hard I think."

"You really need to take time off."

"I know. I know. This is just such a crucial time. Anyway… dinner is ready. Chicken stir fry."

Alex's face softens from the concerned big sister to an appreciative hungry woman. "Great, Kelly said she won't be home until like 7:30 now so it's just us.

"So… Sister Night?"

"Sister Night" Alex confirms.

Kara squeals and grabs bowls to load with the medley of rice, vegetables, and protein. Alex grabs glasses for wine and heads into the living room to que up the newest season of Umbrella Academy. They watched the first season together and pinky swore to only watch the second together also.

After an episode, Alex gathers the dishes and disappears into the kitchen. She returns with a pint of Ben and Jerry's for each of them, allowing her sister to pick first. They swap halfway through the containers and Kara hums in satisfaction as she scraps the last of the melted ice cream from the bottom.

Kara ignores the fact that Alex keeps checking her phone. She's waiting on Kelly who is now half an hour later then she said she would be. It isn't until the end of the third episode that Kelly finally makes it home. Alex leaves Kara on the couch as they hear the front door open and the sound of bags hitting the floor and shows roughly kicked off.

"Hey babe! Kara made dinner. You hungry?" Kara hears Alex call.

"No thank you. I'm just tired. But I could go for a glass of wine."

"Coming right up."

Kara can hear the two in the kitchen now, talking quietly as Kara scrolls through her phone, waiting on them to come back. Alex sits in the middle of the couch, Kelly tucks herself into the corner and stretches her feet onto her girlfriend's lap. Kara resumes her position of her head on Alex's shoulder and their arms intertwined. Alex switches the show to something less intense and the Parks and Rec theme song starts.

Kara can feel the vibrations of Alex talking to Kelly about their days against her cheek. Between that and the familiarity of the show's dialogue, Kara can soon feel herself slipping deeper into unconsciousness.

Lena is alone in the lab. It's late, darkness permeates the lab except for the lights around where Lena is working. Lena types vigorously at her laptop, brow furrowed in concentration. Lights are blinking on the machine behind her. Lena is mumbling under her breath. Kara laughs but it sounds weird, muffled.

“Hey, Lena.”

Lena doesn't respond, just continues to type away. From behind her ear, Lena produces a pen to begin writing. A green pen. With gold trim. The very pen Kara had acquired from L-Corp. After a few, what Kara can only assume is, equations, Lena cries out. Kara jumps with the rudeness of it, but then a giant grin spreads on Lena’s face. Lena begins to giggle excitedly while she inputs something into her computer and then Lena practically skips over to the machine and flips switches and turns dials. Then Lena runs back to her computer and the large machine begins to hum, lights flash. Quickly, Lena grabs an apple from next to her computer and places it on the small platform in the middle of the center hole.

Lena is fixated on the apple, only looking away to check her computer. Lena is so focused, Kara smiles to herself. It’s really cute. Kara stays back and watches the scene unfold. She feels excitement build in her chest, matching the excitement on Lena’s face.

Out of the corner of her eye, Kara sees a shadow move. It slides between desks and chairs, nearly shapeless and silent. Lights from the machines make a beacon in the near darkness, making the shadow even harder to see. Lena’s back is to it as she inches closer to the machine. Then the shadow materializes into a human form, completely shrouded head to toe. It reaches a handout and turns a dial out of Lena's eye line. Kara cries out but Lena can't hear her. The shadow slinks back into the darkness and is gone. Something changes in the hum of the machine. The light that had been circling the apple in the opening began to increase speed. Lights began to blink rapidly all over the network of technology. Lena's glee was slowly morphing into terror. Bright white light is building from the center and the hum has turned into more of a whine as it builds.

"No! No, no, no, no!" Lena exclaims as she scrambles to start turning switches and dials to turn off the machine. But it's too late. The damage has been done.

Kara has to close her eyes against the harshness of the light and feels herself get blown backward by the concussive force of whatever is happening. By the time she can see again, Lena is gone. The room is left in the same devastated state that Kara saw when she first arrived at L-Corp.

"Lena!" Kara yells, waking herself up.

Kara looks around to get her bearings. Alex and Kelly are still sitting on the couch next to her, staring at her in concern. Kara leans forward and rests her elbows on her knees, bearing her face in her hands and taking deep breaths. After a moment she can feel Alex rubbing circles between her shoulder blades.

"Bad dream?" Alex asks softly.

Kara nods and continues to try and calm her racing heart.

After a few minutes, Kelly softly asks, "Who's Lena?"

Kara must have yelled out loud and that's what woke her. "The woman I'm doing a story on. The CEO of L-Corp. She died in a lab accident. Well they assume. There isn't a body."

"And are you stressed about that?" Kelly probs gently.

"Yeah. I haven't been able to sleep. I've been up late working and then when I do sleep, I have dreams about her."

"Are they all nightmares?"

"No. Sometimes it's just like she is there in whatever weird dream I'm having. Sometimes we sit and have a conversation. Sometimes in my apartment, sometimes in the lab. That was the first nightmare."

Kara finally looks at her sister and Kelly. Alex looks concerned but Kelly has on her very serious face. The 'I'm psychoanalyzing someone' face.

"Is that the only time you see her?"

"Are you shrinking me right now?" Kara asks with a laugh.

Kelly makes a face at Kara's term. "I'm concerned that my girlfriend's sister is showing signs of stress-related anxiety."

Kara relents. "No. I keep seeing her out of the corner of my eye. Passing by a window, sitting next to me. Across the room. Just snatches. When I focus on her she's gone. It’s so weird. Like, I never knew her but somehow I’ve imagined entire conversations with her.”

Kelly is quiet for a moment. When Kara looks over at her, Kelly and Alex seem to be having a silent conversation with their eyes. A few nods and Kelly’s eyebrows furrow, Kara can’t see Alex’s face but assumes she is being just as expressive. With a huff of air, Alex turns back to her sister and continues to rub between Kara’s shoulder blades.

“Kara I really think you need to take time off. This amount of stress is not healthy. And this is not a healthy reaction to the death of a stranger.”

“I know. I told Alex I would after the article is submitted I would. But Lena, she deserves this. She deserves to be remembered for all the good she has done. Not for the awful crimes of her brother. Did you know she sponsors several group homes in National City? Not L-Corp, Lena does, personally. She even uses those homes to look for interns and to give scholarships to teens. I just… I can’t let her be forgotten. And all those other reporters, they are just going to twist the story. Or give bare-bone facts. I promised Jess and all the other employees I would write this. I can’t stop now.”

“You don’t have to. But look, maybe you can come to Obsidian tomorrow. We are working on this new virtual reality tech and how it can be used in therapy. Maybe I can help you get past this so you can sleep.”

“But I have to…” Kara trails off when she sees the glare from her sister. “Yeah, okay. I’ll come first thing. Then maybe I can still finish reading through this new research and get a copy to Snapper.”

“Good. It’s settled. I’m going to shower. Alex, get your sister a bed made up on the couch so that she might get some sleep. Goodnight, Kara.”

“Night, Kelly.”

When Kelly is gone, Alex wraps her sister up in a tight hug. “Don’t work yourself to death. I need my sister.” Alex kisses Kara’s forehead and then stands to get the extra blankets and a pillow from the closet.

“And I need mine. That’s why I am here. And your brain doctor girlfriend is going to fix me right up.” Kara tries to joke but it falls a little flat. Alex tries to smile but it looks more like a grimace.

“Sleep tight. We are just in the next room if you need us. Please, wake me up if you need anything.”

“I will. Goodnight, Al.” Kara settles under the fluffy blanket and rests her head on the pillow.

Alex moves about, checking locks and turning off lights before finally retiring to her bedroom. Kara can soon hear the shower turn off and Kelly and Alex talking in the bedroom. It’s too soft to make out words but the drone of it is comforting and Kara is soon slipping back into unconsciousness.

#supergirl #supercorp #scbb2020 #scbb #Fanfiction #Au #Haunted

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issabakugodrangeel · 4 years

Text

My Second Chance

Skz 10th member Au

A/N: So I’ve actually have written this a long time ago just never had the guts to publish it but my skz feels are making me do this so I hope you guys enjoy this I love reading 10th member Au’s I think they’re fun also sorry for any grammar mistakes still learning

Warning: ITZY will be mention in my story and I don’t mean no hate towards them I thought it’d be a fun to add some drama to this so I do apologize if you guys are ITZY stands again this is just for fan fiction please don’t take it personally 😣

Lisa’s P.O.V

5:00 am

I lean back on my bed, letting out a grunt. I was really never a morning person but I had too since I'm a trainee for JYP Entertainment.

I stayed in bed for a few more minutes and got up to get myself ready for practice today. I had a feeling that today something was going to happen. I couldn't put my finger to it so I just shrugged it off knowing it'd be the same as it always has been for 7 years.

After about 20 minutes of getting ready I got my bag and everything I need before heading off. I quickly stopped at a caffe to grab a drink and a small bite to eat, now making my way over to the JYP building.

-------

Going up to the practice room, once I opened the doors, I saw 'them' and by meaning 'them' (yes these are the ITZY members) Yeji, Jisu (lia), Ryujin, Chaeryeong, and Yuna. They looked at me and just laughed at me. I glance at them before I ignore them and went to my corner to set my things down.

I had some beef with them in the past and I still do. They would always hate on me for some reason. I wouldn't lie if I said they don't try to bully me when they actually do, even tho I'm older than they are. I don't even know what I did to them to begin with. I just remember Ryujin saying 'my kind' shouldn't belong here. I assumed it was my race. My korean was still not perfect but I was at the point were I can keep up a conversation. I never told JYP about this because I don't want to start more drama.

"She still here?" Yeji rolled her eyes at her friends as I heard them whispering stuff about me. At this point I'm used to it. "There's no way she's going to debut, she's been here for 7 years already." Yuna scuffed. "Don't worry girls this just proves her dream is nothing more than a dream." Yeji laughs along with her members.

I rolled my eyes and started putting on my dance shoes. 'I will debut'

"Enough about 'that thing' you won't believe what I heard." Ryujin changed to a different topic. "What did you hear?" Chaeryeong asked her. "You know my friend Han Jisung?" The girls nodded. "Well he told me that his friend Bang Chan is putting together a group and he already has all his member but Jisung told me that they're looking for one more member, and that member happens to be a female." Ryujin smiles.

"what really?" Yeji says. Ryujin nods. "Jisung said he doesn't know who Chan has in mind but it could be one of us." Ryujin tried to contain her exigent. "I'm dying to know who it is." Jisu fixed herself in the mirror. "Well one thing is for shore it wont be 'that' over there." Ryujin teases as the others agreed.

I chuckled to myself like I cared.

"Alright girls start stretching." Our dance teacher comes in as everyone got to their places.

-------

After a couple of hours I collapsed in the corner of the practice room. I was beyond exhausted. The other girls quickly packed up their things and left. I usually stayed behind to get some practice in. I always like being myself anyways. To be honest I never really fitted in. I wasn’t pretty like the others or skinny. There wasn't really a place for the out-of-place Mexican/American even tho I'm very light skinned most people thought I was some sort of Asian in me. Sometimes It cheered me up but then sometimes it didn't. I didn't try to think much of it as I just wanted to make my dream happened.

I was actually in a group before called B.A.P but we were so underrated but I loved our fans everything was going perfect till our company started treading us like shit and wasn’t paying us right. Slowly one by one each member’s of B.A.P left. It what was best for us even tho it did hurt inside. They we’re everything to me. Luckily I got another chance to be able to debut here at JYP. I still talk to the other members but now as much as before.

Placing my arm over my head to block out the lights I heard the door open, causing me to get up.

“Sorry didn’t mean to scare you.” An all to familiar voice says in a heavy Australian accent. He was scratching the back of his head.

I place a hand over my chest to keep my breathing steady. “Oh, no it’s okay.” I said. We stood there in a awkward silence. “Did you need the room? I was just about to leave.” I asked going to pick up my stuff. He reached out his hand to stop me.

“N-no it’s fine. I don’t really need the room.” He says politely. I looked at him confusingly. It look like he has something to say but can’t put it into words. “I actually came here hoping to talk to you. If you have time.”

“You want to talk to me?” I pointed at myself.

He nods. “Yeah, Clarissa right? Do you have a second to talk?” I was shocked he knew my name.

I nodded slowly. “Y-yeah. You can just call me Lisa it’s much better. Sure I got plenty of time. Practice just ended anyways.” I smiled.

“Perfect. Sorry, I’m Bang Chan or you can call me Chris.” He sticks his hand out for me to shake it which I take.

“I know. We had a few classes together but we never talked did we.” I mentioned.

He frowns. “S-”

“Don’t worry about it. I’m not much of talker to begin with. Also you’ve been apologizing a-lot since you got here.”

He chuckles. “Right, anyways the reason i’m here is because I have something I need to talk to you about.” He starts taking a seat on the black sofa. I sat on his right side.

“You know the show case is next month right.” Chan asked me I nod my head remembering. “Are you signed up?”

“Ahh, not really. For some reason JYP doesn’t want me too.” I give him a sad look.

“Oh. Well, after 7 years of training JYP nim is actually giving me a chance to let me pick out my own group to enter for the show case.”

A smile grew on my face. “Really? That’s amazing wow. I can’t believe he’s actually having that much trust in you.”

“Thanks. Ya, know for someone I just met, you seem awfully happy about this.” He gives me a wired funny look.

“Everyone deserves a chance to debut right? I’ve heard some of your productions and you got some sick beats. You’re really talented.” I said sitting crossed legged. Even if we haven’t talked I’ve seen him hanging in the building a lot with headphones on his head. I really do admire his work.

“Thanks, again. You’re pretty amazing yourself. I was a fan back in your B.A.P days. And I’m one of your subscribers too.” He smiles. I gave him a small sad one in return.

“Really? You’ve been there since then?” I asked in aw and kinda embarrassed. Yet I felt very grateful.

He nods.“To tell you the truth, I already picked out my members I think I want to debut with.” I think I knew where he was going with this. “But, I figured there was something missing. I talked to JYP about this as I was forming the group and he thought it would be a great idea.” He stop for a moment as if he was nervous to say the next sentence. “I had this idea of adding a female member to my team. He wasn’t sure about it at first till I mention a certain someone.” I could feel my heart accelerate.

“Lisa, I wanted to ask you to join my team.” He glances up at me meeting my eyes. He takes a deep breath before continuing. “ I know you’re probably still hurting from your pervious group. And I know I’m asking a lot form you to having you be in the same situation again, but I honestly feel like having you in our team could take us somewhere.”

A lot was happening in my head at the moment. A huge part of me wanted to scream yes i’ll join your team but at the same time I was feeling scared. Being in all boy group again just made me relive the hate I have received. I didn’t wan’t Chan’s group to go through that with me.

“You really want me to be in your team?” I said with a shaky voice.

He gently grabs my hands in his. “ From the start I was forming the team, I always had you in mind. When I first heard you were going to be a trainee here I fanboy so hard. I wish I had the nerve to talk to you back then, but JYP told me how B.A.P was falling apart and I didn’t want to be selfish and snatch you when you lost a family.”

The moment he held my hands this warm feeling sparked off.

“How about this? You don’t have to give me an answer now, come with me and meet the other members tomorrow for lunch. I have a feeling once you meet them things will be different.” I don’t know why I was being pulled to him. It was like the universe was telling me to go with him.

“Okay..... I’ll meet them.....”

‘Why do I feel like this was meant to be?’

Chan just gave me the biggest smile.

--------

Lisa SKZ 10th Member Masterlist

#stray kids scenarios #stray kids imagines #stray kids 10th member #stray kids 10th member Au #bang chan #kim woojin #Lee Minho #seo changbin #hwang hyunjin #han jisung #lee felix #kim seungmin #yang jeongin

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bitterlemonwater · 4 years

Note

Would you ever consider writing something with Stephen Strange and Peter? 🥺 The rarepair is truly lacking and I feel like you could make something perfectly smutty out of post-Endgame taking Peter under Stephen's (magical) wing, or doctor AU

Endg*me who? I don’t know her. Smutty non-powered doctor au (that’s much more of a club au than a proper doctor au) it is. I’ve only written Stephen x Peter once before so?? Hope you like it anon bby

Peter’s age is unspecified, Strange has post-Sorcerer Supreme facial hair bc I said so, hand jobs, non-graphic but explicitly mentioned violence (Peter gets mugged in the beginning), clubbing, inaccurate medical procedures?? i’m not a doctor and have never worked in a hospital lol. 5k

—-

Peter wakes up in a hospital bed.

He remembers leaving his apartment. He remembers zipping his wallet into one jacket pocket and slipping his phone into the other, his hand wrapped around it. He remembers turning all the right corners and dodging a cyclist and sniffling in the chilly weather.

He doesn’t remember why or how he—

Oh, no, wait. Yeah. He remembers that.

The three thugs that had caught him by the hood of his jacket and yanked him into a murky alleyway between two run down hole-in-the-walls, both of which were closed for the night by the time Peter finally had time to run his errands. Milk and printer paper from a 24/7 Target hadn’t seemed like they would be a problem, but. That’s a sketchy neighborhood in New York, he supposes.

He’d handed over his wallet without a fight (because contrary to popular belief, he doesn’t actually have a death wish) and was giving up his phone when May started calling him.

Apparently the buzzing and loud ringtone (what? He has unfortunately selective hearing—sometimes it just gets tuned out and he needs volume to catch his attention) and potential red alert freaked the guys out, because one swatted his phone out of his grip and before he could raise his hands in surrender, someone decked him in the face.

And now he’s in a hospital bed.

The window shades are half opened but there’s no light coming in, and the light in the room is off, only a dim lamp illuminating everything—so it must still be nighttime. Hopefully the same night, but Peter won’t push his luck.

His head throbs like hell and he sits up slowly. The chair beside his bed keeps his shoes and jacket in reassuring view, but other than that, he’s been blessed to keep his regular clothes on. (Definitely the same night, then. Maybe he’ll only have been out for a few hours?)

For a few minutes, Peter just sits still on the bed, breathing, rubbing his temples. He really hopes he doesn’t have a concussion. This one hospital visit is going to suck to pay off—especially if he was brought in by an ambulance—and he’d rather not add follow up appointments to the bill.

It’s not long before a nurse stops by. He turns on the lights and it makes Peter cringe, but not as awfully as he’s heard concussions usually make bright lights. There’s still hope, then.

The nurse asks him how he’s feeling and if he’s in any pain, then takes down his information, explains that he’s only been out for three hours and that it’s currently one in the morning. Peter tells him about getting mugged and he responds by saying they’ll have an officer come down to talk to him after he is released from care.

The nurse finishes by asking if there’s anyone Peter would like to call. Peter debates saying no, but he can already hear May yelling at him if he tries to walk himself home after this, so he gives them Ned’s number and lays back down.

“Alright. Doctor Strange will be here look you over in a moment.” The nurse says. Doctor Strange? Doctor, Strange. Strange. Why does that sound familiar?

While the nurse gives him two pills for the pain, Peter tries to recall where he’s heard that name before, wracking his brain and only coming up with incomplete thoughts and almost-resurrected memories. He knows he’s heard that before. He just can’t figure out where.

He’s already decided to awkwardly ask the doctor if they’ve met before when the door opens again.

In steps a man half turned away from him, tall and not quite broad but definitely fit and muscled under his white coat. He’s wearing pale blue scrubs and has a stethoscope around his neck, clipboard in his hands. His hair is brown with the slightest bit of grey, that much Peter can see, with killer cheekbones.

It’s not until the guy finishes whatever quiet conversation he was having and turns towards Peter, uncapping a pen and finally facing the younger that it clicks.

Shit.

Three weeks earlier

Usually after a rough week of classes and work, Peter is exhausted. He’s tired and he just wants to sleep for fourteen hours, then have food delivered directly to his bed so he doesn’t have to get up for a full twenty four.

This week it is the opposite. He’s keyed up and anxious to do something. He feels a little detached from himself, and he wants to do something outrageous. He wants an adrenaline rush that will take all his extra energy with it once it fades.

MJ suggests partaking in a protest somewhere, but a quick search tells him there aren’t any nearby that night, and not that Peter doesn’t feel just as passionate about good causes and taking action, but standing with a sign and chanting with a crowd isn’t really the thrill he’s looking for to vent how wound up he is.

Ned suggests clubbing. Peter likes that idea a lot better.

He loses his best friend within the first twenty minutes they spend at the bar. It’s not too high end that it actually requires an entrance fee, but it’s a respectable enough place that they definitely wouldn’t have been able to afford more than two drinks.

Which is why they got plenty tipsy before they went into the club.

Which is why after attractive strangers keep buying Peter shots and sweet bubbly things (as if he can’t handle his liquor, but whatever, he won’t say no to free alcohol) he’s hammered.

Not black-out wasted, of course. Peter knows his limits well enough to know exactly when he’s having fun, but not too clumsy or cloudy to get in real trouble. But he’s definitely drunk. Definitely, definitely drunk.

Normally Peter isn’t the type to be comfortable in a crowded club full of sweaty bodies, everyone in short dresses and tight button ups that show off all the round and firm parts.

On that note, he hadn’t really had much for a “sexy” outfit other than a blush pink satin t-shirt that MJ said made him look “fuckable” and fitted black chinos.

But normally Peter doesn’t feel like he’ll explode if he doesn’t find some way to work off pent up nerves. So when girls put their hands on his shoulders and roll and sway their hips, and random guys grab him by the waist and pull his ass flush to their fronts—he laughs and grinds back.

He flits between partners for the better part of an hour, really only stopping to get free water from the bar or have various old fashioned, rocks, shot, and cocktail glasses slid his way—or to go to the bathroom.

He sees Ned a couple times, always across the room with a girl practically melting into him. Ned’s always had a better sense of rhythm than Peter, but that’s the nice thing about club music.

You don’t really need rhythm. You just have to move and you’ll either fit the song anyways or someone else will help you along.

He only takes a few sips of each drink he’s offered, and some he does refuse with a cheeky smile about not getting drunk, even though he’s very drunk already.

Peter’s just left a man (and a half empty glass) at the bar, one who’s already bought him two very sparkling blue drinks and who definitely watches his ass each time he walks away, when he runs into someone. Literally, bumps into them, and though they’re barely thrown off balance and Peter is mid not-sexy-at-all apology, the person steadies both hands on his waist.

They’re nice hands. Firm but not uncomfortably possessive or rough, pliable enough to move with the way Peter shifts and sways without letting even an ounce of space get under his grip.

“Hello there,” the man says. Peter looks up and sees a goddamn devilishly handsome face, well trimmed facial hair and piercing grey-green eyes. Probably mid 30’s. Sharply defined cheekbones and jaw. Hot.

“Hi,” Peter giggles. Giggles like a ditzy idiot, but the man doesn’t seem to mind.

“You’re a pretty little thing, aren’t you?” He says, and he rakes his gaze up and down Peter’s body in the most shameless way. Peter grins and bites his lip, not shying away from eye contact when the man looks up again.

“You’re not too bad lookin’ yourself.”

The man grins, then tugs Peter forward by the waist. Peter doesn’t hesitate to grind forward, one hand on the guy’s chest and the other rising to a tall shoulder, swaying and stepping into the man’s space.

It earns him a pleased smirk, and the guy drags him closer, walks him back into the messy crowd so they can dance.

He’s hot, ok, and Peter’s been getting groped and felt up for the last hour and a half, so when he feels a sizable bulge press against him and moves flush with the solid body in front of, beside, behind him—sue him, he gets hard. Really hard.

Really, really fucking hard.

As in, he needs to get off in the bathroom right fucking now.

“Having fun, baby?” The guy asks. His mouth is right next to Peter’s ear, hips rubbing against Peter’s ass, and one hand reaches down to boldly cup Peter’s clothed dick.

Peter whines and nods, pulling off the guy, fully intending to abandon ship and jerk off in a hopefully not too gross toilet stall. The man grabs his wrist as he steps away, but doesn’t drag him back or try to guide him elsewhere. He just follows Peter through the crowd, landing them both in the bathroom.

When Peter turns around with the goal of seductively asking if the man wants to help him out or not, he’s met by plush lips rushing to his own. The guy tastes like hard alcohol, like whiskey and bourbon and nothing like the marshmallow vodka Peter and Ned used to get tipsy or the sweet bubbly things Peter’s been offered all night.

The man walks them through the bathroom door and locks it behind them, as if there aren’t stalls they could easily slip into. For some reason the lights are actually dimmer inside the restroom and the music has no problem slipping through the crack under the door, deafening outside but loud enough to mostly cover up the wet sounds of their kissing.

Peter kisses him hard and messy, wrapping his arms around the guy’s neck and grinding forward, trying to get some friction on his aching cock. The man smirks into the kiss, nipping at Peter’s bottom lip and licking from the bottom of his chin back into his mouth, one hand venturing downwards to cup his erection again.

The man’s hands are so steady, nothing sloppy or uncoordinated about him. He doesn’t tremble or slip up at all, doesn’t hold too tight, doesn’t move to fast but he doesn’t slow down for a second to let Peter breathe. He rubs at Peter’s dick through his slacks, fingers mapping out the shape and digging his palm right where the tip is, making Peter keen into the kiss.

It doesn’t take long for the guy to get tired with feeling him up over his pants. He unbuttons the chinos easily and tugs down the zipper, slipping his hand under Peter’s boxers too.

His hand isn’t particularly cold or hot but god does it feel good, having smooth, solid skin to rub against. The man strokes him with purpose a few times, not teasing him or trying to draw out any more of the moans that Peter graciously supplies. Flicking his wrist over the head, cupping and squeezing his balls, tight but not too tight, easing the way with precome.

And then he stops, just holding, and with a desperate moan Peter picks up where he left off, grinding into the man’s fist, thrusting his hips up and forward into the friction.

He gets close embarrassingly fast (or it would be embarrassing if he could care), his legs shaking and arms tense and abdominal clenched as pressure and pleasure quickly pool in the pit of his stomach.

Peter whimpers into the kiss, all tongue and want, threading his fingers in the older man’s brown (possibly black? It’s dark in here) hair while he’s squeezed tightly against hard muscle by an arm around his waist.

“Gonna-”

“Do it. Come on, baby, wanna see your pretty face when you do,” the man cuts him off. Peter nods, just nods and bites his lip and lets his head fall back, baring his neck and face to the world (or, really, just to the man jerking him off) as he tips over the edge.

He moans so loudly that if someone was waiting on the other side of the door they’d hear him over the music. He doesn’t care, though. It’s one of the best orgasms he’s ever had, the build up and being pushed over by such dexterous hands with that deep voice groaning and whispering praise in his ear.

He soaks his already precome-ruined boxers with release and slumps against the man, needing a second to breathe and collect himself. The guy lets him lean for a few moments, but then turns him around, drawing Peter’s back against him and pinning the smaller man between himself and the counter.

It’s probably a gross counter, classy bar or otherwise. Peter doesn’t care. He folds his arms on it and rests his forehead on the backs of his hands, letting the man behind him grind into his ass.

Bare, if Peter picks that up right, the hardly audible shuffle of a belt and zipper, the much more defined feeling cock rubbing against him. He doesn’t care about that, either. If his ass gets stained by this gorgeous Greek god’s come, then he can just borrow Ned’s jacket to wrap around his waist when they leave.

Will it be embarrassing? Yes. Will Ned let him live it down? Not likely.

Will it be worth it? Yes.

And it’s not that he’s not present and interested, but he’s definitely a little floaty and the songs outside get caught swimming in his head, and he has a feeling it takes the man longer to come than Peter thinks it does.

Either way, when the guy does climax, he pulls away from Peter and catches it in his hands, washing it away in the sink beside the younger’s nearly collapsed body.

“You ok there?” The man asks. Even shouting over the music, his voice sounds soft and gentle. Peter nods.

“‘m fine. Better than fine. That felt great, erm, thanks,” he laughs, standing straight and looking at the guy again. The man smiles at him and pecks his cheeks, then his lips, then smirks.

“Made a mess of your underwear, though,” he quips.

Peter groans and wiggles around the guy, stealing some paper towels to try and clean up inside his pants (which would have been awkward and a little confusing, as for how much modesty he should take, if the guy didn’t plaster himself to Peter’s back once more, hook his chin over Peter’s shoulder and watch so intently that Peter started to get hard again) before zipping and buttoning back up.

“I’m Stephen, by the way. Doctor Stephen Strange.”

Peter raises an eyebrow. “Doctor? Wow, that’s really impressive,” he drawls, not really believing the man. One of the first guys to buy him a drink had also claimed to be a doctor, but a few minutes later when his girlfriend showed up, she happened to mention his job at a grocery store.

Not that Peter has anything against grocery store employees. Ned worked at Walmart before getting into his field and Peter has probably worked at every convenience store and gas station in Queens.

(And not because he couldn’t hold one down, but because he needed five jobs at once over the summer to be able to pay for his first year of room and board.)

The guy just smiles, not confessing to being a liar but not taking offense that Peter implies he is. “What’s your name, sweetheart?”

Peter hums. “Peter. I’m a photographer,” he winks at the man and unlocks the bathroom door. Stephen guides him by the wrist (and it would almost be annoying that he doesn’t hold Peter’s hand properly or let him walk on his own, if it wasn’t hot as fuck) back to the bar.

In place of ordering, Stephen just holds up two fingers towards the bartender. She nods at him and turns to grab two shot glasses, and Peter doesn’t have time to unpack why she knows what he wants.

“Photography, huh?”

“Yup.”

“Sounds riveting.”

“Oh, it is. Nothing as exciting as taking pictures of other people doing exciting things.”

“Oh, I’m sure.”

“Doctor, huh?”

“Mhm.”

“Are you a real doctor?”

“I am.”

Peter swivels on his bar stool, staring the man down. It would be more interrogating and honest to his attempt to read the man if simply looking at Stephen didn’t make his lips twitch in a smile. “Where’d you go to school?”

“Pre-med in NYU. The rest is a secret.” Stephen winks. Peter narrows his eyes but doesn’t say anything else.

“So, is that Peter with a last name?” Stephen adds as the drinks are delivered to them. Honey colored with no bubbles and perfect circles of ice in each. Peter takes a sip and lets it roll around his mouth.

“How do I know you’re not a serial killer?”

“I told you I’m a doctor.”

“Perfect cover story,” Peter raises, making an exaggeratedly suspicious face. Stephen laughs at him, probably not because he’s actually amusing but because the man is also drunk.

“Ok, what about Peter with a phone number?”

Peter can’t stop from smiling. A phone number? Like, a ‘we could totally hook up again and get further than a hand job in a bathroom’ kind of phone number? He tries to keep up the game of not acting as enthusiastic as he is, though. “Well, since I still don’t know if you’re a serial killer, maybe you should give me your number.”

“Really? After I got you off like that?”

“Well, actually I got me off, thanks,” Peter muses cheekily, “but… yep. Precautions.”

That earns him a fond laugh. “Alright, alright. ‘Precautions’. Here,” Stephen snatches a napkin from under his drink and a pen from over the counter of the bar, confirming Peter’s theory that they man is definitely a regular.

“So you come here often?” Peter says. He realizes the joke a second later than Stephen does and blushes at his own cheesiness while the man shakes his head and laughs.

“I do, yes.”

“Hmm. Doctor’s salary and you go to bars that don’t overcharge you for everything? Sounds sketchy.” Peter quips. Stephen rolls his eyes and hands over the napkin, ten numbers in way too nice handwriting bleeding through.

“A friend of mine owns the place. I like to support her now and again.” He explains. Peter nods, accepting the reasoning.

“That doesn’t explain why you have nice handwriting, though.” He continues, examining the napkin. Stephen laughs at him.

“I’m taking that as a compliment.”

Peter grins back.

They talk for almost an hour, broken up by breaks to dance or get more drinks—which are just water, for Peter. He knows when he’s hit his limit, thankfully—and by the time Ned is falling over Peter’s shoulder, leaning against the counter and saying he’s ready to go home and lament about the girl he’s just fallen in love with, Peter thinks he likes Stephen Strange quite a lot.

He says so, as he’s leaving, and waves the napkin with the man’s number for emphasis. Stephen just grins, tilts his head and raises his glass and shouts over the crowd that he expects to hear from Peter soon.

It’s only when Peter decides “soon” can totally be three in the morning of that same night that he realizes he somehow managed to lose the napkin.

He’s upset, but not devastated. Just disappointed. Ned tells him they can both get over their narrowly claimed soulmates (i.e. the girl he danced with all night who was leaving to go back to Germany the next morning) by having a star wars marathon and ordering take-out.

Which, yeah. Was a pretty good remedy, and after a few days, Peter completely (or, mostly completely) forgot about Stephen Strange.

Present time

Peter’s brain stops processing. God, just the sight of the other man makes him antsy to move, having to consciously stop his hips from shifting. He wants to kill the awkwardness. “Uh-”“Peter.” Stephen beats him to it. He cringes slightly.

“Um, h-hi. Hi? How, uh, how are you?”

That gets him a slightly confused, if amused, eyebrow raise. (Killer cheekbones and those lips Peter assumed he’d never see again) “The question is actually how are you, seeing as you’re the one in the hospital bed.”

“Oh! Right, right. I’m good. Fine.” This is too awkward. This is kind of painful, actually.

“Mhm,” the doctor couldn’t sound less convinced, “How’s your head? I’m sure the nurse told you, they did an emergency CT scan when you were first brought in, and you don’t seem to have any injuries beyond the couple of scrapes on your face and side. Let you keep your clothes on since the worst of it might be a minor concussion. Let’s check that over though, yeah?”

Peter just nods slowly. Stephen comes to sit beside him, using another chair opposite the one housing his jacket and shoes.

He watches as Stephen writes in a few boxes on the paper on his clipboard, but all Peter can think about is that those careful, nimble hands had given him one of the best orgasms ever.

“Are you in any pain? Any sensitivity to light, headache, confusion, dizziness? Are you nauseous at all? Any memory loss?”

Peter responds dutifully to the questions. He has a slight headache, and the lights bothered him when they first turned on but overall he’s feeling a lot better. An ache on his whole left side, but he assumes that’s from how he fell and landed when he got knocked out.

Stephen writes down all of his answers, checking and marking boxes. When he’s done, he sets the clipboard down and beckons Peter closer. He listens to the younger man’s heart, checks his eyes with a light, and peels off some bandages that Peter hadn’t even noticed on his cheek, reapplying fresh gauze and tape with a new layer of antibiotic cream.

“Well, I’d say you’re in the clear for a concussion, but you’ll definitely need to take it easy for a week or so. Lots of fluids, lots of rest, as low stress as you can manage. No rigorous physical activity. You’re a lucky kid, Peter Parker.”

Peter cringes, then lets his head loll to the side. He’s tired and the pain medication is making him a little loopy and he’d rather think about anything else than what his bill is going to be for all of this.

“Well shit. You know my last name now. Hope you don’t serial murder me.” He hums. He reaches for his jacket and slips it on. Stephen has the decency (especially impressive considering he probably thinks Peter ditched him) to humor him.

“Still on about that? I thought you’d be convinced of my authenticity by now. I’ve got a white lab coat and everything. I’m wearing scrubs.” The man says, whispering scandalized at the end. It makes Peter giggle. He’s a little amazed, actually.

The man he met at the bar was nice, sure, but he’d also very clearly had the goal of getting into Peter’s pants. It’s odd to see the same man, who’d later taken such a serious, confident tone at the club still being playful.

“Speaking of, I thought you said you were a surgeon? Very impressive, very renowned, etcetera. Why are you giving me a… non, surgical check up?” Peter asks. He looks longingly at his shoes, kind of wishing they would just float over to his feet without him having to put them on.

Stephen doesn’t seem off put by Peter’s phrasing. “All of our neurologists are swamped at the moment. They called in some off duty general practitioners to cover, but a personal friend of mine, Christine, was supposed to see you and couldn’t, so she asked me.” He leans back in his chair, then, studying Peter in the same shameless, confident way (albeit, not in the lustful way) he had at the bar.

“I must say, I certainly wasn’t expecting to see you here. Or again, at all.” His tone lilts, pressing Peter to explain why he never called after they hit it off (and got off).

“Yeah, about that,” Peter mumbles. He grabs his sneakers but doesn’t put them on yet, figuring it would be rude to get up or turn his back while he’s explaining. “I’m sorry. I was honestly going to call you but, I uhm..”

“Lost the napkin?”

Peter winces, then nods and hangs his head in defeat. “I lost the napkin.”

Stephen laughs, sitting forward again, and it surprises Peter. On the rare occasion he’s seen someone he’s (intentionally) turned down again, they’ve usually been… a lot more aggressive and unhappy.

His confusion must show, because Stephen looks at him, all sharp features and unapologetically confident and somehow just soft enough to be sincere. “I figured it was something like that, considering you had a pretty good incentive to contact me.”

Peter narrows his eyes, but it’s not real heat. “‘Pretty good incentive’ he says. My, you’re just full of yourself, huh? That’s gotta be some kind of doctor syndrome or something. There was a Criminal Minds episode like that.” Stephen groans at his response.

“Criminal minds?”

“What? It’s a good show!”

“It’s completely unrealistic. Every episode has the exact same plot.”

Peter gasps, offended. “They do not!” Stephen looks unimpressed.

“There’s a bad guy, he’s killed people in a particularly gruesome way and now he’s kidnapped some poor girl. Time crunch. He’s a white man between his 20’s and 40’s, one of the ‘agents’ has some dramatic personal tie, there are hints at a subplot, Reed says something quirky and beats them all at cards on the plane. Sound familiar?”

Peter gapes at him for a solid three seconds before composing himself, crossing his arms and huffing. “It’s still entertaining..” he pouts, petulant. Stephan rolls his eyes but chuckles at the display.

“Well, I’m sure it will keep you plenty entertained while you get your rest. And hydration. But try to steer clear of the strawberry daiquiris.” He says, smirking as he reorders the papers on his clipboard. Peter relents, sighing, and turns to put on his shoes.

“‘s not like I picked ‘em out and bought them all..” he grumbles quietly.

When he slowly rises from the bed, Stephen is still there. Standing on the opposite side of the cot, staring at him. Peter feels his cheeks flush and dear god, he cannot get hard thinking about the last time they were alone in a room together.

He’s trying to think of some way to diffuse the tension, ask about leaving or paperwork (or the bill, dear god), the police report he needs to file or about his friend picking him up—but Stephen beats him to it.

“Would you like to have dinner?”

Peter stares. What was that?

“Huh?”

“I said, would you like to have dinner?” Stephen repeats, patient and unflinching, nothing modest or humorous to lighten the air.

Peter stutters, then wets his lip and bites it, then shifts from foot to foot before nodding.

“Yes. I’d like to have dinner with you.”

Stephen smiles. “Great.” He steps around the bed just as Peter does, bringing them closer together. “Now, technically I have your whole file right here, and I could just get your phone number off of that. But that’d be wholly unprofessional of me.”

Peter snorts, having to step back and cover his mouth so he can laugh at the man’s utter brashness. “Yeah, you’re completely correct. That would be very unprofessional. And probably illegal, I think.”

“Oh, definitely illegal.”

Peter giggles, but then Stephen is handing him the pen he’d been writing with. Peter takes it, still grinning, yet furrows his brows in confusion. “I don’t have any paper.”

Stephen smirks. Then he holds out his hand, palm up. When it clicks what he’s requesting and Peter snaps up to look at him, there’s a very calm, controlled smile, carefully containing a wild amount of self-satisfaction on Stephen’s face.

“So I don’t lose it.”

Peter rolls his eyes so dramatically it hurts, but he takes Stephen’s hand, reluctantly flattered, holding it steady in one of his own and writing with the other. Though it’s more like the older man’s one palm holds both of his stable with how unwavering it is.

When he’s finished writing his number, he hands the pen back. “Make sure you don’t wash that hand,” he quips. Stephen hums, waving an arm past to guide Peter out of the room.

“I promise I’ll take good care of it. The nurse will deliver your paperwork to the waiting room, and there will be an officer there as well. You’re very welcome to stay until your ride arrives.” He says. Before Peter can answer, the man is swooping down, planting a gentle kiss to his temple, and then before he can react, Stephen is disappearing down the hallway.

Peter waits in a mildly comfortable chair and picks up his packet, report and bills and prescription of rest, all in a daze. He’s still in it when he files his report with officer Rogers and when he gets in Ned’s car around two thirty in the morning, answering a million questions and finally tipping his head back against the seat, relishing the dark and the busy quiet of New York late at night.

Two days later, after he’s got a new phone and a new wallet (and a loan in May’s good credit name to pay for his hospital visit), he gets a text that threatens to buzz out of the pocket which barely manages to muffle it.

Unknown: Dinner, Thursday. 8 o’clock. I’ll pick you up. Sound good?

Peter grins and makes a new contact.

You don’t know my address though?

Stephen: I’m sure you’ll tell me.

Fair enough. I can do Thursday at 8.

Stephen: Perfect.

Then, a moment later:

Stephen: Wear that pink shirt again, and I’ll let you pick the venue. Deal?

Peter blushes even though there’s no one there to see it, biting the inside of his cheek not to smile dumbly at his phone.

Deal.

#stephen strange x peter parker #stephen x peter #spideystrange #psa that marshmallow vodka is actually fucking disgusting #anon #lemon does prompts now I guess lol #tw: alcohol #tw: violence #tw: medical expenses #healthcare is expensive as fuck bc america sucks #tw: age gap

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judgement-free-sideblog · 5 years

Text

Dancing lessons

Barry Berkman x reader

Summary: Barry is finally cast in a feature, the problem? He said he could dance and now he can either disappoint Sally or found a way to learn some steps.

Warnings: Swearing, blood, violence, guns, cheating maybe.

Part 1 ● Part 2 ● Part 3 ● Part 4 ● Part 5 ● Part 6 ● Part 7 ● Part 8 ● Epilogue

Part 2

One week after the first time Barry meet Y/N he was nowhere near learning tango, let alone dancing on the level his stupid resume said he could, he only have ended with horrible pain on his knees, thighs and back. And he hasn't even practice dancing with music yet, apparently his instructor thought he first had to learn one basic step and repeat it a million times before he could start doing the "flashy and presumptuous" step, as she called them, that the director may want.

"You really don't have to worry" Sally said during breakfast, they have an agreement to spend the night at least twice a week in each other apartment but he could tell she rather if he stayed at hers since Jermaine and Nick didn't get along with her. "That girl you say is dancing with you, I just heard from Lindsay that she is totally sleeping with the director so probably the scene is an excuse to show her dancing talent and they will be focusing on her instead of you" She drank the rest of her orange juice and stood up quickly "God is so late" she checked her phone and gave him a kiss on the cheek before taking her purse and keys and rush to the door "I'll see you tonight ok? Good luck!"

"Bye, I love..." And then she was gone. "You" He finished his breakfast and took his own car to the studio where he had to finish filming his scenes.

"Barry you're here, excellent!" Andre said when he arrived, thankfully he was not the star of the film and he didn't have to listen the hundred of notes he had for the leads nor taking all the shit the PAs get from him. "Look" He said pointing at his tablet "Janice is on New York for three more weeks for a Ballet presentation, but she sent this to me, is the perfect choreography for the scene. What do you think?" He showed her a clip of Janice and some professional dancer with a song he didn't knew, probably in Spanish or Italian, dancing incredibly close, with several lifts and spins.

"Great" He said feeling dizzy "Flashy and presumptuous" He add really low.

"What was that?"

"Classy and marvelous, is a modern take on the Argentine style isn't?" He said repeating what Y/N had said to him the day before.

"I have no idea, but hey you are the expert" He gave him a pat on the back. "You can start rehearsing with Janice when she gets back" He didn't like that kind of touching, it reminded him of Fuches and make him feel uneasy.

"Sure, great, hey could you send me that video, you know to study her movements" he tried to sound casual and not frightened as he was.

"Yeah sure" he said and with a hand gesture urged him to move to the set where he got to start shooting.

The minute he was over he drove back to Y/N's studio and saw her giving her class to young girls all dressed as ballerinas, she was wearing a black seetrough dancing skirt over a leotard, and his eyes lingered on her legs a few seconds more than he should mesmerized as he was by the elegance she used to dance.

"Barry you are early" She saluted him with a smile, "Girls say hi to Mr. Block" she said at the mass of pink and white.

"Hi Mr. Block" They cheered.

"I'll be done in a few minutes but this really is a private rehearsal" She pat her lips with one finger thinking "Would you mind waiting upstairs? I mean I would hate for you to drive back home to come back in less than an hour, and the coffee place on this block sucks" She said and the girls start laughing "Don't tell your mothers" She quickly add.

"I don't want to be a burden"

"Oh nonsense, you are not, go upstairs, I have food on the fridge but I wouldn't recommend it since you are dancing later and the WiFi password is written next to the phone" She insisted and he finally accept.

The apartment was just a little bigger than the one he rented with Jermaine and had a nice walls on a blue shade that reminded him of the ocean. And a big window facing directly to the door, so the first thing you see when you entered were the rooftop of other buildings and the hills in the back.

He entered feeling himself as an intruder, but being honest that was a common feeling for him, even if he haven't break in any place in over a year, a very long year, and again the pain of thinking of Fuches maybe lurking around strike him in the chest.

He found a place to sit and after being 5 minutes in complete silence trying to not be alone with his thoughts he took out his laptop to watch the dance again. Next to the landline was a nice picture of Y/N on his wedding dress next to a man that must be her husband with golden letters and numbers written over: JPTLV150813.

Once he was connected he allow himself to look around, the living room was tastefully decorated and there were some framed paintings of wild flowers on the wall in purples and pinks. He glance at their dinner table in the other room next to her kitchen, and while he was still holding he picture his mind start wandering, maybe Sally would like to live with him in a place like that. Full of light and peaceful.

He picture himself waking every morning and walking towards the kitchen to make her breakfast, she getting out of the set exhausted, to get a glass of wine in the living room. Reading lines together in the couch, and falling asleep there watching a movie.

And then since he hadn't sleep wery well and Y/N couch was madly comfortable he fall asleep still holding the picture and suddenly Sally's face start fading away, and Y/N replaced her, in a blue version of the clothes she was wearing earlier, he saw himself dancing with her on the living room, a slow and romantic rhythm, and instead of her husband it was him smiling on the picture next to the phone. She would come upstairs tired from work and he would stop her at the door to give her a passionate kiss... then the sound of a gun going off came from the window and a blood stain start forming in her chest running and she collapsing on his arms, and then it was Sally lifeless body again who he was holding and she whispered before losing her breath You did this and fearful he looked at his own hand holding the gun...

"Barry?" Y/N's voice came from the door, and immediately woke up and shake those horrifying ideas from his mind.

"Here" He call from the couch and was careful enough to not look back and don't picture her covered in blood

"I'm so done, boy I'm glad you came upstairs, Amanda's mother is a pain in the ass, if she have seen you she would have called the cops or something" She said and sit in next of him, she was already wearing the heels she used to practice with him. "What you got there?" She said looking at the screen where the video of Janice was still on.

"Is the dance I'm supposed to do for the movie" He said glad to have something to said and he showed her the clip.

"Well... you are screwed" She said after it was finish and he gave her an imploring look. "I'm kidding, I mean is a monstrosity of showing off, and her technique is not perfect, but I'm pretty sure you can put together something, like Ed Sheeran on Thinking out loud". She said confidently.

"Who?" He asked with no idea of what she meant.

"He is a British singer, we are probably too old to know him, but couples come all the time trying to learn his routine for their wedding" She said, but his face was still puzzled "You are not very familiar with pop culture, for an actor living in L.A. I mean" She stood up and walked towards her kitchen "Do you want anything? I have wine, beer, orange juice?" She called from the other room.

"Beer is fine, and is because I only became an actor recently" He said with some embarrassment in his voice taking the bottleshe offered him "I used to amm... sell auto parts in Cleveland"

"Ohio, that's ... far" she said taking a sip of her drink.

"And before that I was a Marine" He add and she almost spit her beer but did her best to pass it down.

"Oh wow, that's unusual. I would definitely say thank you for your service, but I'm antiwar so what if I gave you a 10 percent off on the lessons and we call it even?" She grin at him

"Don't worry about that, I don't like to make a big deal about it anyway" He said sincerely "Also I'm pretty sure you are wasting your time with me"

"Don't be so harsh on yourself, here look" She took the laptop off his hands and found a video of a ginger man singing a cheezy song about eternal love "See he is not properly dancing, but he act like he is, so first you have to learn how to lead, come on take off your shoes"

"Take them off? Why?" He asked while she got rid off her heels and let her bare feet touch the wooden floor.

"Because, and I mean this with respect" She said standing and looking for a record to put in her old record player until she found one "You are huge, and I'm afraid you would step on me with those shoes" a slow rhythm start playing and he did what she asked and stood barefoot in front of her.

"That doesn't sound like the other songs" Although he like it.

"Because you have to learn to walk before you can run, now, put both of your hands on my hips" She said getting closer to him.

"Like this?" It was funny how without the heels she was way shorter and couldn't completely reach her neck so she settled for put both hands on his shoulders.

"Fine now listen to the music and move" She said moving her body rhythmically "There you go, now move me, lead, right or left, is your choice" She said letting him take small steps and occasionally looking down to watch his feet.

"This is not that bad actually" Barry was actually enjoying himself, then the music start going faster and she took his right hand on hers and pull away from him and he chose to ignore the feeling of lost that caused him.

"Now, the hand on my back has to be steady, and lead, we can spin" She said and taught him how "Or we can walk" She started walking back slowly letting him follow the steps at his own pace. "Is all about who is leading" She gave him a smile and they kept dancing until the music was ending and since he had confidence now he make her spin and catch her on his arm like Janice's partner did on the clip.

"Sorry I always wanted to try that" he said once she was standing next to him.

"It was great, you are getting it, now we can try to improve your actual steps, but we should go downstairs, my husband is about to comeback and he hates having music on when he is working" She put on her shoes again and walked out followed by Barry.

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bitsandbobsandstuff · 5 years

Text

A love that never leaves (7)

Summary: Sometimes when you go looking for the past, you find things you never expected. When an accident brings him face to face with something he never knew he lost, Bucky Barnes begins to understand an age old truth – it’s so easy, sometimes, to love the things that destroy us.

Characters: Bucky Barnes x Reader Warnings: Bad language. A bit of fluff. Angst city.

A/N: We’re headed back to 1944! War really sucks and Bucky Barnes is a hopeless romantic. Their last night together in the village turns up something beautiful, but ultimately sad. The angsty stuff kicks off here...

Tags are open, if you want on the list please send me a DM or ASK, it’s easier for me to track. Otherwise you can find the new updates each weekend!

MASTERLIST ALTNL MASTERLIST

PREVIOUS CHAPTER

Previously...

Instead, her mind weaves through their love story, pulling forward a memory she’s replayed a thousand times before. The memory of his one other visit to the village, right before their world went pear-shaped. She was hesitant to tell him about that night, about the question he asked, because she knows he’s not the same. They’re not the same and she doesn’t want him to think -

But her heart beats faster.

Twisting a lock of his hair around her finger, she gropes for the right words, his fingers stroking lightly down her arm.

I wanna know it all.

In the middle of the night, watching the stars wink through the window of her bedroom, she takes a deep breath.

*****

Late December, 1944 Somewhere in France

The sky is a deep, leaden grey when she hurries from the back door. Stepping carefully over slick paving stones, she heads to the tiny chicken coop, where one scraggly chicken remains. Every day, she expects she’ll arrive to find the poor thing dead, but against all odds, the hen has persevered.

As she walks, she picks at the fraying threads at her wrist. The moss green coat is looking worse for wear these days. Where the elbows have worn through, she’s patched with mismatched cloth from one of her old dresses. It’s not ideal, but still serviceable.

It doesn’t matter, not really, she tells herself.

After five long years, the war rages on. Ravaging the countryside, turning the world to ash, leaving nothing but death in its wake. Nearly all the men who left the village remain on the front; those who returned, are buried under weathered gravestones in the little cemetery.

Letters are less frequent, but far too often, telegrams arrive. Their messengers clutch their hats in sweaty fists when they hand it over, and that tenuous grip on sanity is ripped from a family's fingers.

But here, through everything and against the odds - she survives.

And every day, she holds her breath, waiting for him to come home.

Sleep, wake, work, sleep. Every day a dogged routine. But even though the world is on fire, sometimes when she’s sliding into that sweet headspace between dreaming and awake, she starts to think about the future.

It’s an indulgence, but she has this daydream. About wearing a pretty dress that twirls when she dances. About painting her lips with bright red lipstick and dabbing a bit of perfume behind her ears. About holding a glass of deliciously fizzy champagne and seeing Bucky in a sharp black suit, the collar of his crisp white shirt open, a bowtie loose around his neck. About him pulling her onto the dance floor while the band begins a slow song, something full of nostalgia, because they made it through, the soldier and his girl. About how in the middle of the dance floor, in front of god and everyone, Bucky picks her up and kisses her breathless, his breath like honeyed whiskey. About that little bead of sweat rolling down his temple and her kissing it away.

It’s a nice daydream.

“Good morning, little lady,” she says under her breath, reaching the busted down chicken coop. Searching beneath the warm feathers, she finds a single egg and pulls it away. Stroking the bird lightly, she receives a sleepy cluck in return. “Thank you,” she murmurs, clutching the warm egg in her palm.

Standing straight, she shivers when an icy breeze cuts through the thin dress and wool stockings. Latching the door shut, she trudges back to her house.

She pulls up short.

A soldier sits on the back step, staring at his boots, his hands folded patiently while he waits.

Bucky’s hair is shaggier than her memories and a thick beard covers his face, but he looks like everything she’s missed.

When the sound of her steps reaches him, he looks up and scrambles quickly to his feet. Standing in silence, he watches her nervously, strangely unsure of his reception, despite months of sweet words and declarations of love. Tucking his hands into his pockets, he swallows hard before he finally speaks.

“Hey darlin’. You look real pretty.”

His voice is raspy, exhausted and broken, and she closes her eyes, because she’s had this dream before. It was soul crushing when she woke up.

She counts to three.

When she opens her eyes, thank god, he’s still there. She places the lone egg in the small basket she carries and sets it carefully on the ground. Bucky watches her, longing clear in his face.

And she runs to him.

Throwing herself in his arms, he catches her and lifts her up, pulling her legs around his waist and wrapping his arms around her. With no preamble, she finds his lips and kisses him with everything she has. It’s sloppy and messy and frantic and Bucky savors it. Responding with a low groan, his mouth moves against hers, desperation in every twist of his lips.

“Oh god, I missed you,” he breathes, when they finally come up for air. “I missed you – Jesus Christ, fuck, I missed you so god damn much. I’m not leaving again, not ever,” he swears.

It’s a lie, they both know it. But like her daydream, it’s so pretty, they let themselves believe it. Just for a little while.

*****

“How long do we have?” she asks, pouring him a cup of weak coffee. It’s the last bit she’s been hoarding, but he looks so tired, so utterly obliterated, this seems like a good time. When she moves to sit in the chair across from him, Bucky makes a noise of dissent and scoots away from the table. Motioning to his lap, he gives her an imploring look and she can’t help but smile. She sits gingerly on his knees and he rolls his eyes and tugs her close. So, she throws an arm across his chest, tucks her face into his neck. Bucky sighs happily, keeping one arm curled around her, the other gripping the hot mug.

“Just a couple days, then we’re back out. Had to do a fair bit of sweet talking to get them to stop here,” he says and presses dry, chapped lips to her temple. “Convinced command back in London this was a strategic stopover before we pick up the chase.”

“What are you chasing?” She wraps the chain of his dog tags tight around her finger. It leaves an impressive ring of round indentions in her skin.

“Been searching for this guy, this sci – scientist.”

He trips over the last word, body tensing at the statement and she tightens in response. She still doesn’t know what happened to him as a POW, but this type of anxiety is all too familiar.

Scientists. Yes. She knows about scientists.

Sometimes he says things like this, about his job, and the confident mask falls. His breath comes fast and shallow for a moment, but then she squeezes him hard and kisses his neck. He remains rigid, but the soothing press of lips seems to help. Clearing his throat, he keeps talking. “Running after him for months now. He keeps slipping away.”

“You’re being careful out there?”

Bucky doesn’t respond. He wipes the rim of the coffee mug with his thumb.

“Course I am,” he finally answers.

There’s a lie.

She wants to argue. Make him promise to put himself first, to be careful and cautious, to steer clear of danger in every way possible, because he’s all that she has. But it would make no difference. War is what he does. A job he never wanted but one he picked up with horrifying ease.

Instead, she simply hugs him and changes the subject. Bit by bit, she coaxes him out of his head. Bit by bit, she brings him back to himself.

Himself. Someone he hasn’t known in a long time.

*****

The next morning finds Bucky and Steve jammed shoulder-to-shoulder into a small room off the nave of the village church. Piles of hand-drawn maps litter the polished surface of the priest’s desk and Steve sifts through the mess, setting aside the most relevant, while Bucky marks notes in the margins with a fat red pencil.

Dismantling Hydra across Europe has been swift and successful, but to keep going, they need more intel. And to get more intel, they need to find Arnim Zola. The game of cat and mouse between them gets trickier every day, as he slips through their traps, infuriating Bucky and sending Steve into fits of anger.

Hours pass as they add details from the local maps, using the roads and paths and markers unaccounted for in the debriefs from London to flesh out their search strategy. This has to work. This has to help.

They hope, anyway.

“You’re sure it’s okay?” Steve asks for the third time, looking up at the priest. Folding the maps, he clears the desk while Bucky tucks the pencil behind his ear.

“Take whatever you need,” the priest confirms. “Anything to help.”

Steve nods gratefully, stuffing the pile inside his jacket.

Leaving the stuffy air of the little office, the two men follow the priest down the familiar church aisle. As they pass the pew, Bucky automatically looks to where he saw her sitting that sunny Sunday. Clear as day, he recalls her pretty dress and her pretty smile and the way she peeked at him during prayers.

God, he loves that image. His dragging steps find a renewed bounce at the thought of heading back to her.

Coming into the dreary afternoon light, all three men pause on the front steps of the small church and Bucky hears the priest utter a nearly inaudible sigh. His white collar sits askew at his neck and he scratches at it absently, looking out over the dead grass in the small cemetery next to the church.

“Have you lost very many?” Bucky asks quietly. The town seems different than the first time they visited, the crushing fatigue of war bearing down harder than ever.

“Yes. We had a few boys come back last week from – from Italy. Had a hard frost a week earlier and couldn’t get them buried, there’s no way to dig through the frozen ground. Been tough on the families, having them wrapped up in the vaults below the church. They’ll have to stay there, until the ground thaws.”

This is not uncommon. This is how things work. Death in the winter is a grim affair.

Lips drawn in a tight line, Steve rubs exhausted blue eyes and looks over to Bucky; he raises an eyebrow in question.

Bucky considers him for a moment. He wants nothing more than to walk back to her home and crawl into the safety of her arms. But in war, and in life, it’s common courtesy to repay those who’ve helped you. He thinks about the maps that will hopefully lead them closer to Zola, closer to ending this madness, closer to coming back to her for good.

He swallows hard and nods.

“We’ll dig the graves for you. Least we can do for the help.”

The priest hesitates with his response. “That’s very kind of you boys, but the ground really is frozen. I don’t think you can dig through.”

Steve gives him a kind smile. “It’s alright. We’ll manage.”

*****

Bucky drives the sharp shovel into the mound of black earth. Leaning heavily on the handle, he swipes a shaking hand over the line of cold sweat on his forehead.

“M’done,” he says hoarsely to Steve. Four freshly dug graves line the edge of the little graveyard, waiting patiently for their occupants to arrive.

It took some doing, but between the two of them, they managed. Once they broke through the frozen layer, the rest was easy. Of course, it helps that Steve is stronger than the normal soldier and that Bucky is – well, that Bucky’s strong as well.

Steve tosses one final heap of dirt and stretches with a low groan.

“Go on,” Bucky urges, tugging the shovel from his hands. He needs Steve to sleep, because he hasn’t in days. “Get some sleep. You know we gotta leave first thing.”

“Yeah,” Steve sighs. He claps his hands, brushing away the dry feel of dust. “Guess you're staying with your girl tonight?”

“Course,” Bucky says with a tired smile. He toys with the button on his blue jacket. “Got something to ask her.”

Steve squeezes his shoulder affectionately. “Really gonna do it, huh? Nervous?”

Bucky squints up at the pinpricks of starlight peppering the dark sky and gives voice to the doubt in his mind. “Yeah. I don’t know. I’ve been thinking...about all the shit I’ve done, and I’m - fuck, Steve. You’ve seen me out there. I’m not exactly a good person. Not anymore.” He looks over, weary confusion in his face. “Am I selfish? Wantin’ her this way? Doesn’t she deserve better?”

Steve just looks at him. That same penetrating gaze he’s had since the day he found Bucky back in Azzano. Bucky still hasn’t told him everything and Steve keeps waiting, but he knows it’s in vain. Bucky Barnes is a master at stomping down his feelings.

So, Steve gets philosophical instead.

“You know, it seems like the world wants to romanticize this. The war. They write songs and poetry and tell all these grand stories, but we all know it’s fuckin’ bullshit. There’s nothing romantic here. I smell like actual shit and all Dugan’s toenails fell off last week and you got someone’s fuckin’ brains on your coat the other day.” He wrinkles his nose in disgust. “None of us are getting out of this war without changing. That includes her. Don’t go using that as an excuse. You love her and she loves you, and this world’s so god damn fucked up, but you have that. Don’t forget it.”

Bucky tips his head back up, gazing at the stars. He thinks for a moment, then looks back at Steve and gives him a serious nod.

“Every now and then you’re not a total asshole. Smell like one maybe, but - ”

He ducks when Steve tries to cuff him.

“God you’re a jerk,” Steve states fervently.

“Damn straight,” Bucky says. “Now go on. It’s your dumb ass wanting to leave at dawn.”

Giving him a mocking salute, Steve trudges back toward the make-shift camp the team set up on the edge of town. Bucky watches him walk, until the outline of Captain Steve Rogers is swallowed up in the encroaching night.

All he wants is to head back to her, but he needs a minute. Needs to clear out the dark thoughts vying for space in his head, because he sure as hell doesn’t want to bring those within a mile of her.

Setting the shovels against the bullet riddled wall of the church, he drops to the frozen dirt and leans back. Digging inside his jacket, he fishes out the last smoke from the battered pack he keeps hidden inside. Holding it between his teeth, he pats his pockets, feeling for his lucky lighter.

“God fuckin’ dammit,” he swears softly, realizing the damn thing is still in his pack. Frustrated, he bangs his head against the wall and shuts his eyes.

Someone drops beside him. Bucky hears the metal rasp and a flame appears. Looking over, he finds the tired face of the priest giving him a wry smile. He leans over, tips the cigarette into the fire and inhales.

“Thanks Padre,” he grunts in greeting.

“Sure thing,” the priest says, snapping it shut. He leans against the stone next to Bucky and gets comfortable. “You know, the last time you were here, you were pretty intent on interrupting my service.”

“Ah yeah. Sorry about that,” Bucky says with a weak smile. He takes another slow drag. “Was awful interested in someone else that day.”

“Yes, that much was clear,” the priest says with a chuckle. Stretching out his long legs, he crosses the ankles, fiddling with his lighter. “So. How is it out there?”

What a loaded question.

How is it out there?

Hell. Black, bloody, brutal. The very worst parts of his nightmares magnified by a thousand. Humans are terrible and people are suffering in ways he never imagined, because war is fucking hell on earth. He wants to pack up his shit, break his rifle across his knee, get his girl and go home.

How is it out there?

It’s motherfucking awful out there.

“It’s - fine,” Bucky says instead. He examines the bright red cherry on the tip of his smoke. Takes another long drag, blows the thin stream into the icy air. “Just gettin’ tired. Trying to find a reason to keep fighting, I guess. I know it’s the right thing to do. These rumors you’re hearing. Camps and babies and…experiments. All of it’s true. Every fuckin’ word,” he grimaces at the effortless swear and looks apologetically at the priest. “Sorry.”

The priest just shrugs. “S’okay Sergeant. I’ve heard worse. Said worse, in fact.”

Bucky gives a humorless laugh. “Sure, sure.” He tugs at a loose string on his jacket and thinks. “Guess I’m having trouble finding something to follow, you know?”

“What do you believe in?”

Staring off into space, Bucky wonders. What does he believe in? A long time ago, he thought he knew. Life, liberty. Freedom. Fighting the good fight. But now? His morals are shot to shit and he has no idea which way is up. He’s drifting along, half human while he chips away at his humanity a little more with each bullet from his gun. Each slice of his knife. What the hell does he believe in?

He can think of nothing, until he can. Until the one word that makes it all right rises to his lips.

“Love,” Bucky answers honestly. He cocks his head to the side and considers to the priest. “I believe in love. Making the world better for other people. For my family. For Steve.” His eyes drift the familiar path toward her house and he smiles without realizing. “For her.”

“Then that’s what you follow.”

“You’re telling me to follow my heart? Little corny, ain’t it?”

The priest smiles faintly. “Maybe,” he agrees. “Up to you to find out.”

Renewed, Bucky drops the cigarette and grinds it with the heel of his boot. He climbs to his feet and offers a silent hand to the priest, hauling him off the ground.

“Thanks, Padre.”

“Good luck Sergeant.”

*****

Lugging the boiling water into the bathroom, she splashes it into the old porcelain tub. It’s taken close to an hour now, of heating water over the fireplace and transferring it to the bath.

She’s in the bathroom, adding the final bucket, when the backdoor opens. There’s a rustling and she hears Bucky shrugging out of the blue coat, taking off his boots and lining them up in a military straight line. When he pads into the kitchen calling her name, the bucket slips and she hisses a frustrated curse.

“Wha – are you okay?”

She comes out of the bathroom off the kitchen and huffs out a breath. Sweat drips down her face and her arms are shaking from the effort, but she gives him a broad smile.

“You interested in a hot bath, Sergeant?”

Eyes going wide, Bucky hesitates for the briefest moment, before he’s suddenly slipping over the cold stone floor of her kitchen, stripping as he goes. His shirt goes flying, he hops on one foot to remove each sock, his fingers scrabble furiously at his worn leather belt. By the time he reaches the tub, he’s down to his drab, olive colored military issue boxers and an ecstatic smile.

“I hope you’re serious, or this is gonna be real awkward,” he jokes and she laughs. Motioning to the water, she turns around and gives him privacy, busying herself while he removes the boxers. It seems silly, considering what they’ve shared, but she doesn’t want to presume.

There’s a splash and then Bucky is stuttering out a long, satisfied moan. The sound makes her stomach somersault.

“Can I look?” she teases, her throat suddenly and intensely dry. He chuckles.

“Please do. Ain’t much fun otherwise.”

She turns to see him slouched in the water, and then Bucky takes a deep breath and ducks under, immersing himself completely. Under the film of water, eyes closed and dark hair floating around him, he looks like an angel. He holds his breath for so long, she starts to worry, until he breaks the surface with a gasping laugh. Water cascades in rivers of bright sparkles down his face and spiky clumps of black eyelashes frame his blue eyes.

“Like trying to bathe a child,” she says, a mock stern note in her voice and Bucky gives her a crooked grin.

“Sorry, sorry. I’ll be good, cross my heart.”

Poking him in the ribs, he shies away and laughs again and my god, she missed that sound. It sings through her blood, a drug she never realized she craved.

Wetting her hands in the hot water, she lathers up a small chunk of soap. Bucky hunches forward and she lathers his hair, scratching her nails deep to rub away the sweat and dirt caked at his hairline, relishing his soft little moans. Scooping up the hot water, she douses his head over and over, rinsing soap from the dark tangle of hair, until the water runs clear. Pressing against his chest, she pushes him back against the tub and he goes easily, but when she tries to move her hand away, he catches it. She feels the rough bristles of hair beneath her palm and she meets his eyes.

“Will you get in here with me?”

Those blue eyes pleading with her, the hitch in his voice, it stirs a fierce protectiveness in her. Even if she wanted to, she couldn’t refuse. Nodding cautiously, she steps behind him and he leans back in the bath, closing his eyes with a sigh.

She sheds her clothes quickly and observes him for another moment. He looks thinner, the lean muscle trending toward a gauntness she doesn’t like to see. Dark circles are smeared below his eyes, the kind no amount of scrubbing will wash away, and there are new scars littering his body. Thick lines of raised tissue speaking of blades and bullets, and she feels a wave of ice sweep through her at the thought of him courting death on so many occasions. His plush lips, before so quick to quirk up into an easy smile, are curved down.

He looks ravaged, by this war.

In that moment, she decides – if they make it through this thing, if Fate gives them a chance to be together, to make a life together, then she will fix this for him. It doesn’t matter that she gave it up, that she vowed to never do it again. Seeing him like this, she can’t stand it. She can help him and she will.

So many thoughts flood her brain in the blink of an eye, but then she’s stepping into the hot water and sinking down between his spread legs. Leaning against him, she pulls his arms to wrap around her and Bucky sighs blissfully. Bracketing her with his legs, he holds onto her so tightly she can barely breath, but she welcomes the pressure.

It’s nice to be needed.

Water sloshes over the edge while he resettles. Steam rises in spirals around them, blanketing her skin with an instant layer of dampness. It should be a little cool, but it is the exact opposite; everything feels scorching hot. The water, the thick porcelain tub, Bucky’s hard body, Bucky’s lips at her shoulder, Bucky’s tongue licking up her neck. Everything is full of heat, Bucky is fire and she’s melting.

“You taste like heaven,” he whispers, sucking gently at the skin along her shoulder. “Better’n anything I’ve ever had.”

Nothing goes any further. Bucky holds her tight, his hands skimming reverently up and down her arms, his fingers occasionally brushing across her breasts. His touch leaves a deep-seated ache, one she grows increasingly desperate to slack. But he seems content with this, with simply holding her.

An hour passes and the water grows cool. When she lifts her toes from the water, she laughs quietly.

“I’m very wrinkly.”

Huffing a laugh into her ear, Bucky rises from the tub, dripping across the floor to search for towels. Finding two, he gives himself a quick rub down and then slips back into his boxers. They cling to his still-damp skin and she drinks her fill of him, before raising her eyes to his face.

The laughter fades at his expression, at the lust tightening his mouth; she rises quickly from the water.

“No, wait,” he urges when she goes to step out. “Lemme help.”

Helping her from the tub, he takes a towel and carefully pats every inch of her body dry. She wonders if she should feel self-conscious at his eyes roaming over her, but there’s such clear worship in his face, her nudity is nothing. Instead, she feels a warmth in her belly that grows, spidering into the tips of her fingers as she reaches for him.

Catching his face between her hands, she lifts it to hers, gently pressing her thumb into the cleft of his chin. “You’re really beautiful, you know that?”

There it is. The slow smile she’s been waiting for. It’s almost like watching the sun rise, the way it arrives, nothing and then everything. He rubs the tip of his nose against hers and hums appreciatively.

“No one’s ever called me that before. Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.”

“Can I assume, that was your way of talkin’ me into bed?” he whispers and her heart skips at the playful glint in his eyes.

“Did it work?” she whispers back and Bucky tips his head back and laughs. It bounces around the small bathroom and fills her up, happiness spreading like molten lava through her veins.

“It definitely worked,” he confirms. Wrapping the towel snugly around her, he sweeps her off her feet. Carrying her through the dark house and up the stairs, they sink together into the softness of her bed.

*****

Neither one wants to sleep. If they sleep, the night will pass and when the darkness leaves, so will he.

Instead, they lay tangled together on her bed. Even now, she still feels the aftershocks of pleasure shivering through her body, settling into her bones. Face to face, they lay sharing a pillow, silently watching each other in the dying light of the fire. She twines her fingers with his, brings them to her mouth and rubs her lips over the long, thin white scar on his right hand.

It was what brought them together, after all.

“I wish we could stay here like this,” she murmurs, her wistful voice melting into the black silk of the room. “I wish the world would come back to its senses.”

Bucky hooks his leg around hers and brings her even closer. The comforting curve of his warm body feels like a protective shield against the world beyond her windows.

“It can’t last forever,” he says and he strokes his fingers down her bare arm. There’s an edge of bitterness riding his tongue when he speaks again. “It’s gotta end someday. They’ll run out of soldiers eventually.”

All she’s every wanted in this wretched world, was to find someone like him. Someone full of passion and life, someone who could make her feel again, make her want to live again. Here in this little village, she’s found exactly what she needs, but their life is so fragile. She’s terrified it will fall apart.

Sensing the swirl in her head, Bucky rests his thumb in the hollow dip at the base of her throat, rubbing small, soothing circles.

“Can I ask you something?” he says.

“Of course you can.” He doesn’t respond right away. There’s a longing in his face, one she recognizes - it’s a perfect reflection of her own heart. She waits expectantly, but nothing happens. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah,” he breathes. A deep red flush is working up his neck, spreading over the apples of his cheeks. He looks nervous. “I love you,” he finally says.

“I love you too.”

“Okay, good. Okay. I want to – would you do something for me?”

“Bucky, I’d do anything for you,” she says encouragingly.

He nods at her words, absorbing them. She would do anything for him. He takes a deep breath.

“Would you marry me?”

Since the moment she knew she loved him, she’s dreamt of these words. Of Bucky asking her to stay with him forever. To wake up with him every morning and fall asleep wrapped in his arms. To fight and love and live and grow old together.

She wants to reply, but shocked hope steals her breath and the words won’t come.

“I’m sorry,” he whispers quickly, his eyes flicking rapidly between hers, sudden shyness in his voice. “I know we haven’t known each other long, it’s all mostly letters really, and I don’t know, maybe it’s too soon and we still have so much to learn about each other, but – you’re it for me. I really believe that. It’s just - every day I walk out there and I swear to god, death’s riding my ass so fuckin’ hard, and I don’t know if I’m gonna make it home again and I just – didn’t want to lose the chance.”

His words bleed together, punched fast and frantic from his lungs, like he needs to release them or he’ll choke. When he tries to keep speaking, she puts her fingers against his lips, shushing him.

“Bucky. You had my heart from the moment we met. You’re it for me,” she echoes and Bucky’s face lights up at her words. “I’ll be here waiting, as long as it takes. Come back when you can and I’ll marry you.”

Burrowing into his chest, she clings to him. Tears slip fat and hot down her cheek and when he feels the steady stream wetting his skin, he rolls her onto her back and hovers above her, leaning down to kiss each one away, one by one until every drop is gone and the taste of salt burns his tongue.

Salt and sadness. Is there a more defining feature of war than these two things?

The dog tags around his neck clink softly when he shifts, sitting up on his knees. The words come effortlessly, the ones every soldier presents his love, knowing full well it could be no more than another pretty lie. He takes her hand and holds it against his heart. Beneath his hot skin, she feels the steady thump against her palm. His low voice rings with promise when he speaks.

“I swear to god, on everything I have, I will come back for you.” He squeezes her hand, his eyes burning. “What we have – I’m always gonna fight for it. Down to my dying breath. You and me, this kind of love, it lasts forever, okay? It’ll never leave. I’ll never leave. Not ever.”

Out of nowhere, the nameless fear that sits dormant in her chest perks to life at his words. Terror seeps into the marrow of her bones, at the haunting phrase from her past.

But this is different, she thinks. It’s different, and she holds tight to his vow, desperate to believe that history won’t repeat, and she won’t be left alone again.

“It never leaves,” she echoes. Like opposing commas, they curl together, drawing comfort from the other.

*****

Just like before, Bucky rises before dawn. He dresses quickly, buttoning and buckling the uniform in the dark, a repetitious memory his hands have been trained to complete.

Just like before, he stokes the smoldering fire. Adds more kindling to send it blazing, filling the room with heat.

Just like before, he kneels beside the bed and lays his head next to her.

“Good morning,” she whispers. Cool fingers smooth his hair back and he leans into her touch.

“Good morning,” he breathes. She moves to get up, but Bucky gently holds her down. “No, don’t get up. It’s too cold.”

She shakes her head no and tries to rise again, but his arm is like iron, a silent rebuke.

“Bucky, let me go downstairs. See if I can find you any coffee, I might…” her voice fades at the sadness in his eyes.

“Darlin, I’d really – I’d rather you don’t watch me leave. I’m not sure I can go, if I know you’re watching.” He brushes his lips along her cheek and hums. “This here, you all soft and warm,” he kisses her other cheek, his lips lingering, a smile in his voice, “completely naked,” another kiss on her nose, his mouth a breath from hers. “This is what I want to remember.”

In the firelight, his eyes are so breathtakingly blue. It’s her favorite color, she sees it everywhere.

He could convince her to do anything with those eyes.

“If that’s what you want,” she murmurs reluctantly.

“You’re what I want. You’re what I’m always gonna want,” he whispers. His mouth slants over hers, the dry, cracked skin of his fingertips cradling her face and she leans into the rough touch.

“Good. Because I’m always going to be yours,” she answers and Bucky swims happily in her reply.

Unwilling as ever, he rises slowly to his feet.

“When I come back, I’m bringing you a ring.” A sweet, crooked smile pulls up his lips.

She plucks up the shiny medal he gave her from the chain around his neck, the outline of St. Michael clear on the spinning chain. “This is enough. I don’t need anything else, just bring me you.”

He watches her for a moment more, and then he’s stumbling back for one last heated embrace. Crushing her into the blankets, Bucky pours every last drop of love into the kiss, trying desperately to brand himself into the meat of her heart, so she never, ever forgets him.

It works, she thinks hazily, his mouth feverish against hers. Where he ends and where she begins, it’s impossible to define.

He ends the kiss abruptly and tears himself away.

And just like before, at the grey break of dawn, Bucky Barnes slips from the warmth of home and disappears back into the cold march of war.

*****

Two months later, a telegram arrives from Captain Steve Rogers.

The innocent piece of paper sits on her kitchen table, resting against the chipped white jug that was once full of the bright holly berries Bucky brought her. Hours tick by as she sits in silence, waiting. Night has fallen, before numb fingers find the courage to open it.

I lost him. A mission in the Alps. I’m not stopping until all of Hydra is dead. I’ll come find you when this is over. I’m sorry. I’m so damn sorry.

Steve Rogers never comes. She hears the news later, that his plane went down. No survivors.

*****

The poets say when your heart breaks, the world will grind to a halt.

The poets are wrong, she thinks.

When your heart breaks, the world will in fact keep moving. The stars will still shine, the sun will still rise. You will go on living, despite having nothing to live for. The world doesn’t stop for trivial things like grief. It lumbers on, drags you forward kicking and screaming, forcing you to keep breathing, until you’re nothing more than a ghost of who you were.

*****

Next Chapter

*****

#bucky x reader #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes #bucky #bucky fic #altnl

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artificialqueens · 5 years

Text

How Far I'll Go - Chapter 4 (Nina West/Monet X Change) - Meggie, Mia Ugly

A/N: This chapter was getting out of hand (pushing 13k and not even close), so we decided to split it so we can get out an update and not have to worry about mincing words as we finish up the second half of the chapter. This one is still lengthy (9k)!

Prior – Nina and Vanjie ended up in the top during the first episode, with Vanjie taking the first win of AS5.

To come – Nina learns a secret, shares a secret, and has a realization.

Chapter Four - never looked at me this way before

Nina wakes up and is still on Drag Race.

It is an ungodly hour and he barely remembers his head hitting the pillow; they filmed a bunch of talking head interviews after the runway, and wrote letters for Laganja, and de-dragged and ate what little takeout they could stomach at one a.m. It’s only two days in and he feels the exhaustion in his bones, but Good God Girl is he happy that he survived the first elimination. Not only survived, but was in the top two. Got to dance it out against Vanjie, got to watch Monet in the audience, smiling all white and shiny like some sort of monster (he’s got to know the effect he has, right? Has to know).

Nina forces himself out of bed with a not entirely silent groan, tries to immerse himself in his Disney princess fantasy where little bluebirds are singing to him, fluttering around helping him get ready, bringing him his towel and razor and - actually, bluebirds armed with razor blades might not be exactly Disney’s brand. He can workshop that bit.

He showers, shaves, tries to dress quickly. He wanted his Werk Room aesthetic to be a bit less “quirky elementary school teacher” this season, but when he looks over his choice of boy clothes, he realizes that that just might be his actual aesthetic - on TV or off. Damn. Well, whatever. He’ll never be Vanjie, fashion-wise, but at least he’s not Brooke.

Nina gathers his things in a hurry because he wants to get downstairs for breakfast before the rest of the girls invade. It (probably) has nothing to do with the fact that the mentors meet fifteen minutes before the contestants come down to get their briefing for the day’s challenges. He’s (probably) not trying to run into Monet.

Things are decidedly less awkward after they hugged it out on the runway and even danced a little. Monet had his hands on Nina’s hips for a moment there, said how proud of him he was (and damn it, that lights something up in Nina that he doesn’t want to look at too closely). Even though he hadn’t won the lip-sync, even though Vanjie essentially wiped the stage with him, Monet was proud. Happy he’d chosen Nina to be an X-Queen.

Something dangerous could be brewing if Nina were going downstairs early just because he wanted to bump into Monet this morning, try to make him laugh because that smile is just - something else, or find out how he takes his coffee or -

But Nina isn’t. So it’s fine. Everything’s fine.

Just peachy.

Nina bounces on his toes as he presses the call button for the elevator and waits. He feels good, more relaxed. Getting past the first episode is hardest; no one wants to be the first one out (unless you’re Vanessa, then you take that shit and run with it). And he has a trip to the Bahamas under his belt. That’s something to look forward to. He’ll take his drag mother, maybe; it’s not like they’ll let him substitute the dogs for a Plus One.

The elevator dings and Nina, still lost in thoughts of sandy beaches and the hot sun on his shoulders, takes a second to recognize the couple wrapped around each other in the back corner. Probably wouldn’t have recognized them at all, given how smashed together they are - a gasping, moaning, many-limbed organism - except for the fact that they immediately pull away from each other, looking wide-eyed with panic at the elevator doors.

“Oh.” Nina tries his best to maintain a neutral expression as he gets into the elevator and turns conspicuously around. “So I guess you guys are speaking again.”

Brooke and Vanjie are silent behind him. Nina counts down the floors. After all that weirdness yesterday, they’ve apparently - worked things out. Or something. Nina is not in the headspace to think about it right now.

Eventually Brooke clears his throat, says “Good morning,” like he’s Nina’s manager at work or something.

“Yep, hi, good -” Nina says, just as the elevator lands on the ground floor with a thump. Nina steps out without waiting for the two of them (because he has first-hand knowledge of being mortified in elevators and knows that the last thing you want is company) and walks briskly to the conference room.

The mentors are just finishing their meeting and starting breakfast. Production thinks it’s fair to let them have meals together, but the P.A.s are never far away, making sure none of the competitors get an unfair advantage from too much early information.

Trixie’s tapping away at her cell phone with one hand and shoveling cereal into her mouth with the other. Vanjie hadn’t been kidding when he said Trixie was always on the grind. Nina’s half impressed by her dedication to be working at 7:30 in the morning and half - concerned? Maybe he’s glad Trixie passed him over during the draft.

Monet is staring down a plate of pancakes, but he looks up and smiles when Nina comes into the room.

“Bubble Guns!” Monet calls, and Nina can only assume he’s being summoned. (Because, logically, no one else carried bubble guns into the Werk Room during their entrance. And, logically, who else would Monet be talking to? Nina’s the first to arrive other than the mentors and the crew.) “See hos, this is what a winner looks like. You all might wanna have a word with your girls about it.”

“I think my girls are good, thanks,” Trixie says deadpan, without looking up from her phone. There is a crease between her eyebrows and - now that Nina really sees her, she looks extremely tired.

“Bubble Guns?” Nina asks because he can’t not mention that.

“Just trying it out. Officially you’re still Jean Grey, this is more like a pet name. Like honey or snookums. You like it?”

“Nope,” Nina says quickly, and Monet laughs. Nina files that laugh away for when he needs it. There’s something about the low husk of Monet’s voice that makes him get all - distracted. Yeah, let’s go with distracted. And that’s the last thing he can afford to be right now, but sometimes it’s easy to forget -

His attention shifts as Brooke comes into the conference room, followed by Vanjie thirty seconds later. Vanjie’s mouth is swollen, and Brooke’s neck is red and blotchy from beard-burn. It all seems incredibly, stupidly obvious to Nina but then, he’s working with some additional information. Anyway, he notices.

And Monet notices him noticing.

“I’ll see you and Asia in the Werk Room, yeah?” The laughter is gone from Monet’s mouth, he’s suddenly all business. “Go get some food in you.”

“Right.”

Nina Bo’nina and Shea have come in, and Vanjie makes a beeline to them, voice getting immediately louder and growlier. Nina grabs some toast and finds a seat off in the corner where Brooke is alone, drinking coffee and eating nothing. He gives Nina a cautious smile as he sits down across from him.

“Sooo…” Nina starts around a mouthful of toast, and Brooke’s face goes stoney.

“Yes?”

“Just um, wondering. What’s going on.”

“Nothing.” But contrary to his words, Brooke’s eyes immediately clock Vanjie’s laugh across the room. He seems to realize what he’s doing, and decides to stare at his coffee instead. “It’s - nothing. We talked last night and - you know, things just happened.”

Things just happened. Right. Thoughts are running through Nina’s head - and some of them are probably unfair. His first helpless reaction is judgement, and that’s not his usual go-to. He doesn’t like being that person (live your life, stand in your truth, etc.) but come the fuck on, Brooke. Things don’t just happen between two people with this much history, especially when one half of that equation is clearly stupid in love and the other half is in denial.

“Don’t look at me like that,” Brooke says, saving Nina from any sort of soapboxing he might feel tempted to do. “We’re adults, I’m not -”

“I’m not looking at you like anything.” Nina raises his hands, only lying a bit. “I just worry. About both of you.”

“Well don’t.” Brooke’s in a mood this morning, but at least he seems to realize it. “Sorry. Just ignore me until I’ve had another coffee, I don’t know what my problem is.”

Nina suspects that they both know what Brooke’s problem is, but he doesn’t offer that up. And apparently, whatever Nina witnessed in the elevator that morning was just for the elevator, because Brooke and Vanjie don’t have a word to say to each other during breakfast or after. They leave separately, and Nina leaves a few minutes later, giving a “casual goodbye nod” (you know, like a normal person does) to Monet on his way out. Monet nods back but is deep in an intense-looking conversation with Trixie and Alaska. Nina leaves them to it.

Both Brooke and Vanjie are subdued during the filming of the Werk Room entrance. Nina wonders if they’re thinking about last season, the many times they came into this room all tangled up with each other, or kissed for luck before moving to their stations (if Nina’s thinking about it, he can’t imagine they aren’t). Now Brooke and Vanjie are at opposite sides of the pack, Vanjie grinning at Nina Bo’nina’s goofy dance moves, and Brooke just off by himself, working his worn-out red hoodie like he’s on a runway.

They all gather in a group to talk about the elimination, and get Blair’s take on being safe. She’s not crying yet, which is a good start.

“It’s a wake up call. I’m ready to show the judges that I mean business,” she says with a mild air of confidence, “that I have more to offer than I did last night.”

“Yeah you do, girl,” Vanjie says warmly. “That’s why I kept you.”

“Speaking of Miss Vaaaanjie…” Shea uses that moment to shift the conversation. “How you feel about being a winner, baby?”

Vanjie laughs. “Lord Jesus, I think it’s about damn time. If I didn’t win something this season, I was gonna send my own ass home.”

“Dela already trademarked that shit, you ain’t original,” Nina Bo’nina tells him. “She’ll take you to court about it.”

“I ain’t scared of no Seattle queen, Mary,” Vanjie sounds so authentically offended that everyone, even Brooke, cracks up. “Nah, for real. They all up there, drinking coffee and being polite and shit - practically Canadian.”

He darts a look at Brooke, who arches one eyebrow and steeples his hands like the cartoon villain some fans think he is.

“I’ll have you know that Canadians can be… extremely shady,” Brooke says, a hint of a joke in his voice.

“Bitch, you don’t gotta tell me. You already gone and proved it.”

The other queens laugh, following Brooke’s lead, but Vanjie’s tone is a little bit sharp, and things are starting to feel - not uncomfortable, but like they could be heading in that direction. Nina wracks his brain, trying to think of something kind and clever to say that would re-route the conversation - when they are rescued by their Lord and Savior RuPaul.

“Hello, hello, hello!” he calls, coming into the Werk Room.

“Thank God,” Nina hears Cracker say under her breath, and he can’t help but agree.

Then all of the mentors follow Ru down the stairs, and Nina stops thinking about anything at all.

“Look who I found at the bus stop!”

Nina immediately (and unintentionally) catches Monet’s eye, flinches, and gives him an awkward wave (a wave? Why did you wave? You could have smiled or just - looked away but - waving like a passenger on the Titanic, Nina, oh my God). Monet makes an extremely amused face and waves awkwardly back.

“Ladies. For today’s maxi challenge you’ll be performing in three All Stars ‘she-quels’ that honour our… scissor sisters.” Ru raises an eyebrow. “You will be placed in teams of three to create follow-up scenes from famous movies about women that looove women. Not to give Mommy Hytes an unfair advantage.”

Brooke smiles and licks his lips, clearly knowing where his fanbase is.

“I’m the Mommy on this show, and don’t forget it.” Ru glares in mock fury at Brooke for a moment before smiling brightly once again. “Now to separate a cast of this - quality - into teams, I think we’re going to need a little muscle. Oh Pit Crewwwww.”

The very attractive (and probably very cold) Pit Crew come into the Werk Room armed with blankets and pillows. (Nina has had this dream before - but usually RuPaul wasn’t in the mix.)

“Who’s up for a little slumber party with your best squirrel-friends?”

The queens around Nina all raise their hands, none of them as quick as Brooke. Nina’s first reaction is to see how Vanjie’s doing with all of that, but then he puts it out of his mind. He’s more than a bystander in their love story, right? He’s gotta be.

They stop filming so that two Set Dec can come in and arrange the pillows and blankets in a cozy circle on the floor. The queens all find a seat there, interspersed with members of the Pit Crew. They film a bit of B-roll of them painting each other’s nails, doing a massage chain, pillow fighting, etc. Nina doesn’t really know where this is going, but when Ru puts an empty Absolut Vodka bottle in the middle of the circle, something awful rattles loose from the deep, dark forest of his repressed high school memories.

“To choose your teams for this challenge, we’re going to play a nice wholesome game of Spin-the-Bottle. Mentors, to keep things professional, you may leave the circle. Pit Crew, you stay right where you are.”

Nina glances helplessly at Monet as he gets up and then helps Trixie to her feet. It’s a stupid move, and when Monet inevitably realizes he’s being stared at and catches Nina’s eye, Nina immediately looks away. Probably turns red or something, breaks out in hives. You know, whatever would make him seem like the most pathetic person ever.

“Miss Vanjie. Nina West. Because you were our top All Stars in the Talent Show, you will be picking teams. And if you feel like giving your new teammates a little sugar, I’ll allow it. But no pinkie fingers. Let’s keep it clean this season.” A wink at Brooke.

Vanjie is up first, and his spin immediately lands on that delicious ginger in the Pit Crew. (Bryce? His name might be Bryce.) From the sidelines, Trixie Mattel feigns disappointment and Nina vaguely remembers some kind of flirtation between the two of them on All Stars 3.

Brooke’s face freezes, but Vanjie only gives Bryce a kiss on each cheek, ignoring the cat calls from the other queens.

“Thank God!” Trixie says loudly. Too loudly. “You know that I’m the only queen for you, Brycie.”

Her tone is - weird and over the top (more than the usual over the top Trixie) but Nina can’t think about that now. He’s really good at taking on other people’s problems to avoid the problems in his own life, and that’s - okay, it’s an issue, but it’s an issue he can’t fix in the next 15 minutes and he has other things to worry about.

Nina goes next. Maybe he has a lot of emotions about the fact that the mentors are no longer in the circle (like - oh God what if he had had to kiss Monet? And OH GOD, what if he had had to kiss Monet?) but he puts them to the side. He’s strategizing, doing his best Brooke Lynn Hytes Ice Queen of the North impersonation and thinking about who would be the most strategic pick. Not that strategy has any place in this but you know…

The bottle lands on… Nina lets out a laugh.

It’s pointing right at Blair, whose smile grows wide as she stares Nina down across the circle.

“I do declare!” Nina says (he knows Blair can act, is going to steadfastly hope for the best) and he kisses Blair on the hand while she fans herself like a proper Southern belle.

“Try to pick a teammate this time,” Ru tells Vanjie, as he spins the bottle again. “Or Bryce maybe.”

Vanjie’s spin almost lands on Bryce again (“Whore!” Trixie yells) but when it finally stops, it’s definitely pointing at Asia. Vanjie beams, crawling over to her and giving her a messy and handsy fake kiss while the other girls shriek with laughter (not Brooke though. There’s a smile on his lips but it looks like it was hung there with a hammer).

Nina spins again, pretty satisfied with anyone that could end up on her team. It’s All Stars, baby, these queens are all winners. The bottle spins and spins -

“She’s got the endurance,” Ru comments.

-then slows and stops… in front of Miz Cracker.

Cracker glances flatly up at Nina before breaking into a little victory dance. She crawls over to Nina and leans in for a kiss before pulling away, covering her mouth.

“Wait, are you kosher?”

Nina cocks his head to the side. “I do enjoy sausage.”

Cracker clicks her tongue. “Better not risk it.” They settle for a handshake.

“Team Nina West is complete!” Ru comments with a wide grin. “Miss Vanjie, spin again. Then our remaining queens will make up the third team.”

Vanjie makes a show of blowing on his fingertips before he spins. And wouldn’t you fucking know it -

“Brooke Lynn Hytes!” Ru announces, no doubt extremely happy at the drama that’s about to unfold.

Vanjie’s eyebrows twitch, that little ripple of pain, before he smiles fake and flawless.

“Oh no, Mary.” He doesn’t move from his place in the circle. “Been there done that. That queen already got these cookies.”

Brooke smiles flatly, blows a kiss that Vanjie ignores.

“Now that means that Shea Coulee, Nina Bo’nina Brown, and Ivvvvy Wiiinters will make up the final team. Ladies, you three will be performing a scene from the film Carol.”

Damn it, that’s a supergroup right there. Nina forces himself not to worry. He’s got Cracker (and himself, but stay humble, girl), they’ll be golden.

“Team Vanjie.” Ru turns his attention to the source of all the awkward tension in the room. “You’ll be performing a scene from the film Monster.”

Brooke and Asia instantly go wide-eyed in the exact same way (while Vanjie does a little shrug. A moment later, the title seems to make an impact: “Shit, is that with Charlize being all ugly and killin’ dudes?”)

“That’s the one,” Ru says nodding.

Asia and Brooke still haven’t lost the look of panic on their faces, and Nina can’t really blame them. How are they supposed to make Monster funny? It’s the saddest story ever - though Nina can see Brooke giving off a bit of an Aileen Wuornos energy. Hmm, there’s a thought.

“Finally, Team Nina West. You’ll be performing a scene from a film that is near and dear to my heart - for absolutely no reason that I can think of - But I’m a Cheerleader!”

Oh my God. Nina can’t hold back his delight. He loves that film, it’s camp as hell, and RuPaul was in it - they’re going to have to turn it out, but Cracker and Blair are stand-out queens. He knows they can do it.

“Mentors, you’ll have the chance to check in on your queens as they rehearse, as well as co-direct the scenes during filming. And tomorrow’s runway theme is another nod to our sapphic sisters: Lavender Menace. Gentlemen, start your engines. And may the best woman win!”

*****

Nina ends up eating lunch with Vanjie again, the two of them sitting cross-legged on the ground with sandwiches like a couple of kids on a picnic. They talk a little bit about how rehearsals are going (without ever once mentioning Brooke’s name) but Vanjie is constantly furtive and shifty-eyed. Nina doesn’t have to guess why.

“Whatever you wanna say, I already know it,” Vanjie says quietly, after a pause in the conversation goes on a beat too long to be comfortable. “You’re gonna tell me to be careful or I’m being stupid or something, and really bitch? I been telling myself that all day.”

“Well.” To be honest, Nina had been planning to say most of those things. This is easier. At least it will save some time. “Okay then.”

“‘Sides, it ain’t going to happen again.”

Nina raises his eyebrows, and Vanjie scowls at him.

“It ain’t! I ain’t doing that again, no ma’am. Me and your girl, we’re done. Don’t pretend you never had an itch to scratch. It don’t have to mean nothing, right? And it sure as hell don’t mean nothing to him.” A flicker of pain crosses Vanjie’s face before he presses his lips together, manages a smirk that’s shaped more like a broken heart. “Bitch, I seen you and your walk of shame after that finale, you know how it is. And you still ain’t told me who it was.”

“Uh. No.” He coughs. “No, I did not.” How did this conversation get so quickly out of Nina’s control? “A – gentleman doesn’t kiss and tell.”

“You think you’re some kinda gentleman? With your dress undone and your wig over your arm? You a ho just like the rest of us.” Vanjie grins, delighted. “If it was just some random trade you wouldn’t be so shook up about it. It’s gotta be someone we know.”

“I’m not shook up. I just – it was nothing. A one-night thing.” It hurts to say, more than Nina expected it would. But he knows it’s true. He has to know. And if there had maybe been the possibility of it turning into something more – even just lunch – Nina certainly put an end to that the next morning.

“Girl, look at who you’re talking to. You think – you think I don’t know that lie when I hear it?” Vanjie swallows, smiles weakly. “I been there, right?”

“Vanjie-”

“So who was it? Another queen? Bitch, you kaikai-ing with Yvie? I remember there being some kissing –”

“No.”

“Hmmph. Nah, you right. Miss Scarlet would’ve already murdered your ass in the ballroom with the lead pipe, Mary.” Vanjie narrows her eyes, thinking it over. “It wasn’t any of the Dream Girls - though Silk would climb you like a tree, you give her half the chance.”

“Can we talk about something else? I really don’t want to -”

“Who were you talking to that night? ‘Cause I fucked off early. Was it -”

“How’s it going, Jean Grey?” Monet’s low voice interrupts them. “Hey there, Miss Vanjie.”

Vanjie cranes his head back to beam up at Monet who is standing, arms-folded, above them. “Hey girl! You come to try to steal me for your team? I ain’t messing with Miss Trixie, no ma’am. You piss her off then Katya’s coming after your ass, and that bitch crazy.”

Monet laughs. “Okay, fine. Fair. Won’t even try it. Came over here to ask Miss Nina West if she wanted to run lines with me and Cracks after lunch. What you think?” He rubs the back of his neck.

“Sounds great. Yeah. Thanks.” Nina looks up at Monet, tries not to turn too obviously into a puddle.

“Don’t thank me, I got wig money on the line.” Monet winks, smiles, places a hand on Nina’s shoulder. It lingers for a moment too long. “I’ll come grab you after.”

“Okay.” He watches Monet walk off, then looks back at Vanjie.

Whose mouth is hanging open.

“Oh, bitch.”

“Stop,” Nina warns.

“Bitch!” Vanjie repeats, swatting Nina’s leg playfully. “Okay, I see you, Miss Nina.”

“Please, don’t,” Nina begs.

Vanjie raises an eyebrow and presses his lips together into a tight smirk, but Nina knows this isn’t done, won’t be done until Vanjie has the details he craves.

“It - oh, God - okay.” Nina sighs. “There was a lot of tequila involved and bad decisions and now it’s kind of weird.”

“I bet,” Vanjie says, and then bites his lip. “Was it good? I mean, Monet looks like he’d be good. So was it good?”

Nina’s face catches fire, he’s sure of it. Positive there are flames shooting off his forehead from how hard he’s blushing. And he hates it, because he knows that gives more away than his words would.

“Ha! So it’s like that. Damn.” Vanjie sits back, looking far too amused. “Miss Nina and Miss Monet… I gotta say though…” He pauses and takes a long drink of water from the bottle at his side, no doubt for dramatic effect. “Didn’t neither one of y’all look like it was nothing just now.”

“Well it - it was. Nothing. And I - the next morning, I - there are some things that -”

Vanjie takes pity on his inability to form a sentence. “Listen, girl. I’m just saying - you looked good. Together, I mean. And it can be nice to have a piece of something when the competition gets intense.”

Vanjie tries to look down and not across the room at Brooke, where he’s sitting and laughing with Shea, Ivy, and Asia, but fails. He shakes his head (only slightly, but Nina sees).

Maybe Nina isn’t the only one here who spends time trying to fix other people’s relationships instead of worrying about his own.

He clears his throat. “It… He’s my mentor. Even if I was interested - and I’m not saying that I am - and even if he were interested, which obviously he isn’t - anyway, the point is it wouldn’t work. At least, not on Drag Race.” What he doesn’t add is that he’s seen a relationship blossom on national television, and he isn’t keen to experience the raw heartbreak that is Branjie.

“Mmm.” Vanessa’s tone is introspective. “Drag Race ain’t forever.“

Vanjie’s always been able to read into things beyond surface value. Nina was half-convinced that was the reason Brooke and Vanjie would make it. Vanjie seemed to see things in Brooke that Brooke didn’t even see in himself. Noticed when Brooke was getting in his head, getting too anxious. Knew without a word when Brooke had to be left alone, and when he needed someone to make him laugh. It was a weird symbiotic thing they had for a bit, and Nina had envied it, even as he’d been happy for his friends. He thought it was - something.

“Please don’t tell anybody, okay? Not even Brooke.”

“I told you. Me and your girl - we’re done. It’s gotta be like that.” Vanjie only sounds a bit like he’s drowning. “Your secret’s safe. But listen, don’t throw shade at your own damn self. Monet… He’s good. Like good and nice and shit. Like you. So just think about it.”

Nina nods, all while fully intending to try as hard as he can to not think about it. But with Monet fluttering around the break room, laughing and dancing with Trixie and smiling that perfect smile, he knows that’s going to be easier said than done.

*****

“My name is Graham and I like girls!” Blair chirps.

Monet purses his lips. “Hmm. Okay. So let’s do it again and… I don’t really know how to say this other than… Butch it up a little?”

Blair nods, but Nina can sense the frustration building.

They’ve been running lines for three hours and it’s not going well. The three of them have read over the script, selected their chosen roles, and consulted with Monet (who thought it was brilliant and hilarious to have Nina - with his line-backer shoulders - play the wholesome cheerleader Megan. The way he laughed when he described it made something special and intense fire in Nina’s stomach, and he’s got to get control of that. Especially now that Vanjie knows? Damn it. Put it in a box and kick that box into the sun.)

“My name is Graham and I like girls!” Blair says again, and her tone is… exactly the same. It’s very Blair. And there’s nothing wrong with that per se, it’s just not what they need for this challenge.

Monet nods and quirks his lips into a terse smile. “Maybe let’s take a break.”

Nina turns to Cracker, who’s playing the repressed Born Again camp counselor.

“I think we’re getting there!”

Cracker scoffs and rolls her eyes before stomping off after Monet.

Blair slumps into a chair against the wall and looks up at Nina miserably. “I’m really screwing this up.”

“No,” Nina lies and sits down next to her. “You’re shaken, that’s understandable. Just relax and you’ll be fine.”

“I just… I don’t get this character at all.” Blair tosses her script on the floor. “I’m really trying, I am, but like - I’m so afraid I’m going to be sent home. And I’m probably going to be sent home, now, because I’m screwing this up and it’s all I can think about.”

Nina remembers that feeling all too well, relates intensely to Blair’s feeling of inadequacy. But - damn it, all their lives are on the line here. He’s got to get Blair out of her head, even if it means - changing things up. Giving up the role that made Monet laugh like he was dying. Nina can - he can do it. It’s not the first time. It worked out okay for him and Brooke last year (okay for Nina anyway. Brooke did - substantially better with that arrangement). And Nina was… Safe. He can handle safe. Safe is good at this point.

“So.” Nina clears his throat, steels himself for what’s coming. “Which character would you rather play?” Brace for impact. Do it for the greater good.

Blair chews her thumbnail. “Honestly, I think the uber-religious one? Cracker’s? Like maybe my tone would fit better? I can do repressed gay, I mean - I’m from Indiana.”

YES! I mean, fine. The greater good.

Nina tries not to seem too obviously relieved.

“Okay! Okay. So now we just have to convince Cracker to switch roles with you. To be honest, I feel like she could probably pull off Graham.” (Surly, sarcastic - yeah, Cracker will have no problem there.) “You should be the one to ask her though - since she and I… well. I mean. You guys are Season 10 sisters! Can you do that?”

Blair nods. “Yes. Yeah, I’ll ask her. Thanks Nina! I feel better about this already.”

Nina plasters on his best Miss Congeniality smile, hopes he doesn’t seem too worried. He isn’t. Not really.

While Blair chases after Monet and Cracker, Nina looks across the Werk Room at the other teams. Nina Bo’nina, Ivy, and Shea’s team is falling over with laughter - Shea in a perfect blonde Cate Blanchett wig and a tailored fifties dress that is doing everything for her. Nina knows that confidence doesn’t necessarily lead to a winning performance, but in this case, he doesn’t see how they could fail.

Brooke, Vanjie, and Asia - that’s a different story. Brooke has definitely gotten into serial killer mode, but he and Vanjie are staring grim-faced at their scripts, clearly frustrated. Even though he can’t hear what they’re saying, Nina can see the way Brooke keeps getting distracted when Vanjie speaks, or when he gets too close. Vanjie’s eyes keep getting darker and darker, and poor Asia is stuck trying to pull the two of them together while keeping them apart.

Brooke must feel Nina watching him because he looks up and gives him a painfully fake pageant smile.

Nina smiles back with wide, panicked eyes, gives Brooke a brittle thumbs up (at least that makes Brooke laugh). He wishes he could say that his team would at least do better than Brooke and Vanjie’s - but at this point, barring a miracle from Saint Cracker, he has no idea how that’s going to happen.

He looks down at his script. Works on memorizing the lines now that he knows Blair isn’t gunning for his role (he’s basically got them down already, comes with the territory). He tells himself that he’s lived through situations inconceivably worse than this one (and he really, really has) so no matter what, he doesn’t have to feel like there’s a badger in his chest, savaging his liver. What happens, happens; go big, be kind, etc.

“You’re looking pressed as hell.”

It’s a testament to how distracted Nina is that Monet can slip into the seat beside him without Nina even noticing.

“You don’t have to be. Cracks and Blair are talking it out. Think they’re going to switch roles. How you feeling, Bubble Guns?”

“Um.” The nickname takes him aback a little. He said he didn’t like it, but come on; he likes the fact that Monet is still paying attention to him. Still invested in him. Even if it’s mostly because there’s money and prestige and basically winning another season on the line.

“Don’t get all green on me, girl.” Monet sighs. “You should feel fine. You were… You were killing it in rehearsals, okay? You’re a funny bitch, Nina West. You got this.”

Nina nods. Forces himself to focus on the words on the script in front of him and not the way that his first and last name roll together effortlessly off Monet’s tongue, the way his deep, rich voice wraps around each syllable, caresses it.

“Thanks,” Nina mutters, flipping the edges of his script. “But I don’t know—”

Then Monet pulls the script from his hands, takes Nina’s in his own, lays his hands on top of Nina’s palms, and faces him. Head on.

“That’s the thing we need to stop,” Monet says quietly. “I know you. You run shit in Columbus, Queen Nina West. Where’s that confidence?”

“This isn’t Columbus. It’s different here,” Nina manages to get out, hands burning under the weight of Monet’s on top of his. He won’t be the first to pull away no matter how much he’s tempted, no matter how much of a bad idea this feels like.

Monet tips his head to the side. “It’s as different as you make it. Deep breaths now. We gotta get this anxiety thing under control if you’re gonna win a crown.”

Nina angles his body until he’s facing Monet straight on, then they lock eyes, and Nina lets Monet guide him.

In, out. Nina feels like his heart might pound through his chest.

In, out. Monet’s eyes aren’t just brown, they’re mahogany, notes of purple and maroon and gold in the depths.

In, out. He might imagine it, but Nina thinks he can feel his pulse sync with Monet’s in the same way their breaths are flowing together, a slow beat running through their palms.

In, out. Monet might be leaning closer, but Nina could also just be concentrating way too hard on those eyes that aren’t really brown and the feeling of Monet’s fingers on his and—

“Monet!” It’s Cracker from across the room. Her hands are on her hips, eyes narrowed in a sneer, and Nina clears his throat, effectively ending anything that lingered, dissipating the electricity in the air between him and Monet.

He might be making it up (it’s getting hard to tell what’s real and what he wants to be real as far as Monet is concerned), but Nina would swear that Monet rolls his eyes as he removes his hands from Nina’s and smiles at him. Which… That smile is like Christmas and birthdays and the last day of school and ice cream on the hottest day of the summer all rolled into one. It’s everything.

“Keep working on it,” Monet says, tapping Nina’s script. “And listen, girl: you got this. Okay?”

Nina nods. When Monet says it, it’s almost enough to make him believe it himself.

*****

The mentors are there with Michelle when they get to the soundstage for filming. Nina knows he looks ridiculous in his over the top cheerleader costume, but it makes Monet laugh out loud when he sees him (Nina’s hoping it’s in a good way). The other mentors are sitting beside Michelle too - Trinity waves at Blair, and Trixie is looking down at her phone as usual. She slides it under her thigh as the enter, but the screen lights up almost immediately.

Cracker looks hilarious in her bad-girl outfit with a messy wig and layers of black eyeliner. The role switch is really working for her. Blair’s Born Again camp counselor look is a little understated, and it makes Nina worried – he encouraged her to make it more campy, but Blair was terrified of looking “ugly” and this was their compromise. Whatever, it’s done. Move forward.

“My comedy queens!” Michelle calls out when she sees them. “Look at you! I feel like all of you have that theatre background, right? Or have killed an acting challenge or two, so this should be easy for you all. You feeling confident?”

The three of them share an awkward look. They’d run the lines a few times after the switch, but there hadn’t been a ton of time and, well… Blair had been concerned about memorizing everything after spending all morning focused on the other role. Nina’s fine, Cracker’s fine, but Blair…

“We’re going to do our best,” Nina says instead of answering the question, because – that answer could be played out on-screen so many ways (the cocky team before their downfall, etc.), and he doesn’t want to take the chance. He manages to catch Blair’s eye, though, and tries his best to give her a reassuring grin.

“Okay, well. This is high camp, right in your wheelhouse. And we know it has a special place in Ru’s heart, so make us laugh, okay? You all ready?”

Nina nods and they find their marks. Make ‘em laugh. He can do that.

“Action!”

They start off a bit rocky - Blair nervously rushing through her lines, but at least she remembers them. They have to take the scene from the top, but after that, Nina starts to feel like he’s getting into the groove of it. And then Cracker enters the scene.

“My name’s Graham, and I like girls.” Cracker’s tone is correct. She’s sarcastic and absolutely over it, but Nina gets flustered waiting to see how it will go and misses his cue entirely.

Cracker rolls her eyes and continues, but the rhythm of the scene is off and they never recover. Damn it. Damn it - okay, move on, move forward.

Eventually, they get enough that production will be able to piece together and they move on to the next scene. Wherein Cracker immediately flubs a line. Nina tries to keep his expression neutral, but he sighs before he can help it.

“Cut!” Michelle calls. “Sorry, Cracker, Nina – you two are supposed to have chemistry, right? I’m not feeling any of that.”

Cracker gives Nina a pointed look, and Nina smiles tightly at her.

“Let’s try it again,” Michelle says.

“I can’t be a lesbian, I’m a cheerleader!” Nina wails and Cracker strolls in, smoking her fake cigarette.

They only get a handful of lines in before Michelle is calling “Cut!” again.

“What’s going on here?” she asks, and the set goes completely silent. “Miz Cracker, you’re a funny queen, but you’re coming off flat.”

“Sorry.”

“Don’t apologize to me, I’m not the one who’ll be going home if you don’t get it together. Mentors, anything to add?”

Trinity, Trixie, and Monet exchange uncomfortable glances with each other.

“Are you having fun?” Trixie asks after an awkward pause. “Because it doesn’t look like you are. And if you aren’t, no one watching this is.”

Michelle nods. “Right? Trixie, you and Katya always look like you’re having fun together on UNHhhh, and that’s why everyone loves it. Like, we get to watch two people who are just crazy about each other and having a great time. You can’t fake that.”

Nina might imagine it, but it looks like Trixie stiffens - sits straight up in her chair, thin legs crossed at the knee. The foot she was swinging out of habit stops and even as she smiles, tries to look casual, Nina can see that her fingers have curled into tight fists.

“Yeah,” Trixie says slowly. “I mean, we’re best friends so… It’s easy, right? This should be easy. It is easy.”

Monet squeezes Trixie’s knee and glances up at the stage. “Y’all know what you’re doing. All of y’all can act. Just - loosen up.”

“That’s right!” Trinity chimes in. “And Miss St. Clair, from one good Southern girl to another, don’t be afraid to get a little messy. You’re a funny queen, you got this.”

“Just have fun with it,” Michelle reiterates.

Nina nods, accepting the feedback. He isn’t having fun right now, to be honest. Cracker’s looking at him like she might bite his head off, and Blair’s eyes are welling up with tears, and soon enough he’s going to embarrass himself in front of Michelle Visage and a bunch of drag legends - not to mention Monet who he’s totally crazy about -

Oh.

Shit.

That was not a thing he meant to - to think. Or feel. Or - or -

He likes Monet.

Like likes him, like a stupid teenager with a crush.

Oh no.

For all his insistence that their hook-up meant nothing, that he was going to keep his head in the game, Nina is suddenly struck blind with the realization that he’s completed fucked.

And he has this realization on a soundstage as his team is falling apart around him.

Perfect. Wonderful.

“We have enough time for one more take,” Michelle says softly. “Just one. So let’s make it count.”

Nina takes a deep breath and holds it. This cannot be happening right now. He tries to remember where his mark is.

“And action!”

They make it to the end of the scene, where the girl-on-girl kiss is interrupted by Blair only to dissolve into a frantic menage-a-trois. When Michelle finally calls cut, she isn’t smiling. Monet and Trinity look worried as well. Trixie is… Well, she’s gone back to tapping away at her phone, but she forces her lips into a tight smile (that looks more like a grimace) when she surveys them.

“All right, ladies.” Michelle sighs. Tense. Stressed. Like it’s her proverbial life on the line. “Thank you very much. And I really hope you bring it on the runway tomorrow.”

They leave the soundstage feeling - heavy. Down. Unable to stand the air of defeat, Nina instantly goes into mama bear mode.

“It’s fine, Michelle’s hard on everybody. Blair, I think the last take was your best one, and Cracks –”

“Nope, no, do not call me that.” Cracker holds up a hand and shakes her head. “My friends call me that.”

Nina stares at her. This doesn’t feel like the time to squabble over nicknames. “Oh, sorry, I – just got used to hearing Monet say it. I know -”

“Because Monet is my friend,” Cracker says slowly. “So.”

“O-kay.” Nina can’t think of anything else to say right now.

Blair is looking between the two of them in sheer terror, eyes welling up with tears.

“Don’t cry, Blair,” Cracker says, and her tone is rather - pointed. “This whole thing isn’t your fault.”

Nina feels the sting of the comment, and wishes he didn’t.

“Sorry,” he says, as politely as possible, because whatever is going on here, it seems to be ramping up. “Whose fault is it then?”

Cracker holds open her arms in a dramatic shrug.

“Well, you’re the team captain.”

Blair takes a step back. “You guys - let’s just - we’re all feeling stressed so maybe we should -”

Nina holds up a hand. “Actually, I think I’d really like to have this conversation.” He faces Cracker head on. “I’m sorry, and I don’t know why this would be the case, but it kind of feels like you’re angry at me? Like you’ve been angry with me since the first episode.”

“Angry at you?” Cracker rolls her eyes. “No, I don’t feel any way about you whatsoever. I’m just trying to put together the image you present with what I know about you as a person.”

“What do you know about me as a person?” He doesn’t know Cracker at all. How did she somehow get this terrible opinion of him?

“Clearly the Miss Congeniality thing is something you do for television, right? And then when the cameras are off you just walk all over people.”

“I’m -” Nina looks at Blair’s stunned face and then back to Cracker. “I’m sorry, what did I ever do to you?”

“To me? Nothing. But Monet…” Cracker shakes her head. “After everything he told you, it’s low. It’s fucking low.”

“Sorry,” Nina says for the second, third, fourth time, because he cannot believe what he is hearing right now (and Brooke always said he was practically Canadian). “After Monet told me what?”

Cracker’s got to be referring to Nina’s (okay, fine) ghosting of Monet following the finale taping. Monet must have told her about it, and admittedly, it was not Nina’s best moment. But it wasn’t like there had been - feelings or anything involved. At least, not on Monet’s part. It was just a hook-up, right? And any chance for anything else to come of it - well, that’s done. That ship has sailed. And - it’s for the best. Nina’s been telling himself that for weeks, months even. And he really doesn’t want to talk about this right now, not with the newfound understanding of his feelings still ringing in his ears like a gunshot.

“Whatever. This is such bullshit.” Cracker rolls her eyes. “Everyone thinks you’re so great, like ‘Go Big, Be Kind,’ whatever. But you are not. And I didn’t want to get into this, but - Monet deserved better. And after what he said -”

“Look, Cracker.” Whatever happened between him and Monet, whatever Nina feels, there certainly hadn’t been much conversation. They’d both been far too gone on tequila, and their mouths had mostly been… otherwise engaged (don’t think about that, not now). “I honestly have no idea what the fuck you’re talking about. Monet didn’t tell me anything, so… I’m sorry, I guess, that I’m confused, but I don’t want to argue with you anymore. Do you want to tell me what I’m supposed to know? What you’re so angry about? That would be swell. But if not - I don’t know what to say.” He’s tired of fighting, tired of Cracker’s vitriol. If this is how she’s going to be all season, he isn’t sure a crown and a title and $100,000 is worth it.

Cracker looks up at him, eyes narrowed in distrust and defensiveness.

And then - something changes. Her expression twitches and then - softens at whatever she sees in his face. She looks down briefly, then looks back up.

“He…” She uncrosses her arms, shakes her head. Her entire demeanor changes, eyes going wide like she’s seeing Nina in person for the first time. “Oh my God. Monet didn’t tell you. He didn’t, did he.” It’s not a question; there’s no lilt in her voice, just a sad note of realization.

Nina shakes his head, a bit thunderstruck by what’s going on in front of him.

“He didn’t tell you,” Cracker says again. “That fucking idiot. Oh my God.”

“Well.”

“I’m going to fucking kill him.”

Nina takes a chance, reaches across the distance between them, and takes her hand. “Don’t - do that. Don’t kill anyone.”

Cracker nods, gripping his hand tightly. “This… explains so much actually. Oh my God. Nina.”

“Listen, Cracker, I honestly don’t know what this is about. I don’t -”

“I’m so sorry,” Cracker interrupts him, and all of a sudden she is the charmingly neurotic queen he remembers from Season 10. “For how I’ve acted towards you. It’s… not okay. I can’t believe - I’m just sorry.”

“Thank you,” Nina says sincerely. “That means a lot.”

“And I didn’t mean what I said… About you being not great. I just thought - oh my God, I’m so stupid.”

“Listen.” Nina stops her. “I’m good. We’re good. Let’s - can we start over?” He cranks up the Nina West charm. “‘Cause I’m like such a huge fan.”

Cracker smiles, a bit embarrassed.

“Or at least I was. Before you came for my life.”

This makes Cracker laugh, and she nods. “Starting over sounds good.”

They bring it in for a group hug, mostly because Blair looks like she needs it. Nina takes a moment to fully have an out-of-body experience, because this has been the strangest day he’s had in recent memory. He kind of wants to keep asking Cracker about the whole Monet thing, wants to figure out what he’s meant to know, but - baby steps. He doesn’t want to ruin whatever fragile peace they’ve found for now.

“Does this mean I can call you Cracks?” he asks.

“Fuck off,” Cracker laughs. “But Blair, you’re allowed.”

All the queens grab dinner together that night; craft services sets up something in the conference room, and Nina sits off in the corner with Brooke again - mostly for Brooke’s sake than his own (mostly, mostly he swears). Things with Cracker are better (she gave him a small smile across the table as they filled their plates), but still not entirely comfortable, and Nina thinks it may be best to let the dust settle before he tries to spark a true friendship.

The mentors aren’t there - they went out for dinner together, because they are All Stars and deserve it. Or something (no, but really, they do. They already lived through two seasons, and came out the other side. It’s only episode two and Nina thinks they all should have statues).

Brooke doesn’t seem - great. He’s clearly worried about his team’s performance, fidgeting more than normal, barely eating anything. His eyes are always glancing over Nina’s shoulder at the table where Vanjie’s sitting, and Nina feels a bit like he’s in high school again, hanging out with the cool kid who’d rather be somewhere else.

“And how’d she do?” Nina asks, leaving no doubt as to who he’s talking about.

“Oh, Vanessa? Well, you know. I mean, neither of us are Meryl Streep.” For the first time all evening, Brooke’s mouth curves into a shadow of a smile. And Nina’s heart breaks, just a bit.

It brings him back to his stupid Monet feelings from this afternoon, something he’s been trying to avoid thinking about like it might cause brain cancer. Whatever, it’s fine, it’s fine. Nina has - experience putting these sorts of feelings to the side. He feels a lot, and he’s a crier, all that fun stuff, but - the romantic bits, those are things that can be compartmentalized. He’s had enough hopeless crushes in his life as an ex-Conservative, broad-shouldered, Disney-loving drag queen from Ohio (no shade on Ohio, go Buckeyes) that he’s an expert in unrealized longing.

Grit your teeth and clench your fists until the feeling ebbs.

Sleep doesn’t come easy that night. Nina doesn’t know what the next day will bring, and he’s pretty sure he wasn’t the weakest member of their team, but the final decision isn’t going to be up to the judges. It will be up to his sisters. And hopefully hopefully hopefully he’s endeared himself to at least a few of them, enough to keep him around for another few episodes.

Maybe he’s worrying for nothing, maybe it’ll all be fine. Nina wouldn’t want to see Brooke or Vanjie go home, of course - but at this point being declared ‘safe’ would feel like a goddamn gift. More than he deserves.

When he finally falls asleep, it’s restless, and full of odd dreams. He’s on stage back in Columbus, and Monet is there in the audience, wearing that honey-gold dress from the night of the finale. He’s trying to tell Nina something, Nina can see his lips moving, hands cupped around his mouth, but his voice keeps getting drowned out by the noise of the crowd (when Nina finally wakes with a gasp, Monet’s voice is running through his head like fog, but the words are already lost).

#rpdr fanfiction #nina west #monet x change #brooke lynn hytes #vanessa vanjie mateo #ninex #eventual branjie #background trixya #canon compliant #all stars au #smut #angst #fix it #how far i'll go #hfig #mia ugly #meggie #on set fic #concrit welcome

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