#anyway this rec list took a HOT minute i had to dig out ALL of the time travel fics | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

sweetsubharry · 4 years

Note

Can you rec some omega harry fics pls?

Yes I can!! ^-^ So because this is a particular favourite of mine I counted 68 fics in this list so as a warning it’s a long list!!

In case no one makes it to the bottom I’ll say it here too! Please stay safe and read the tags!!💕💕

'Cause Your Embrace Keeps Me Warmer by scribblewrite

Mates and soulmates are two completely different things. Mates are two people, an alpha and omega, who bond together while knotted together when the alpha bites a bond point on the omega’s body. It ties the two of them together forever or until one of them breaks the bond. It's normally the step after marriage. One could only hope to meet their soulmate.

You Could Be My Ever After by scribblewrite

His heat was gone, finally gone, and he'd been able to sleep for longer than thirty minute intervals. Not only that, but he was in his alpha's arms. He felt warm, and safe, and protected, and he honest to god didn't want to move. Harry and Louis spend the next couple days together after they've bonded with Louis taking care of Harry and the two of them getting to know each other better. Louis and Harry meet for the first time and, being soulmates, Louis's rut and Harry's heat are triggered.

Fill My Heart With Sweetness by loopdelouis

Harry's a late bloomer, but since his luck is shit, it's no surprise that he'd be the last to get a heat, but the first to get pregnant. In high school.

Let's Embrace The Point Of No Return by sweaterpawstyles

Louis was a whole new scale of beautiful, he was richer than Harry could've ever imagined, and he was the most powerful, dominant alpha that Harry had ever come in contact with. The only problem now is that Louis is also Harry's boss.

Louis believed Harry was an alpha, and had no idea about how he had lied about his status just to get an interview with Louis. He was in too deep now and he couldn't look back.

Harry is an omega intern at an all alpha company. Louis is his boss. There's some complications.

Count The Wolves And We'll Sleep Tonight by scribblewrite

Louis's the Alpha of a powerful pack and Harry's his omega.

When Harry's taken by rogue alphas, Louis will do anything to bring him home safely.

turn the sky black into a sky blue by orphan_account

Harry forgets that noses exist. Louis is a badass motherfucker. They bang.

“I’ve been in love with you since I dropped my books in the hallway and you made fun of me when you picked up my John Green novel off the ground.”

Our Lips Are Made Of Candy by Waking_dreams

“Your knot, please, Louis,” he managed to whine. He needed it, that extra stretch and burn that made him Louis’.

“Fuck,” Louis moaned, and his thrusts became unsteady. “Can’t do it here, baby, Hazza, can’t—“

Or, Harry accidentally missed a few doses of his medicine that controls his heat and starts his heat in the middle of Biology. Oops

I Can't Hear You by kikikryslee

"I’m not supposed to be built this way!" Harry said. "I’m supposed to be shorter than you, and you’re supposed to be stronger than me and-“ “Harry!” Louis tried to interrupt. “And what if I’m not supposed to be an omega? What if my body screwed up somewhere or something? What if I’m not supposed to be your omega?” --- Or, the one where Harry is self-conscious about his body because it's not the 'typical omega body' and Louis shows him why he loves that.

You Know I'll Be by JustAnotherShadow503

Louis Tomlinson, 27, is the personal photographer for well-known model Harry Styles, 21. Louis, an Alpha, has been in love with Harry for years, though the younger man has seemingly not presented yet.

Or, the one where Louis is in love with Harry, tries to be a martyr at his own expense, and is a hopeless romantic.

Or, the one where the author is shit at coming up with summaries and hopes you'll read the story anyways.

I'd Go Out of My Way To Make Sure That You're Okay by littlepinkbow

This was for this prompt: "Harry's embarrassed about going into heat, but Louis decides it's up to him to teach Harry to be more open about what he wants."

As Small As Possible by Mickey_D

Harry is a rather shy omega who's quite convinced everyone (except his best friends) laughs at him behind his back and sometimes to his face.

Louis is a confident alpha who is taken with his best artist's friend.

Zero Means Nothing When I'm With You by StripedAndBowtied

Louis doesn't know what he's looking for until he finds it.

Harry just knows he may defy his gender norms, with his height and clumsiness, but that doesn't mean he doesn't want litters of pups running around while he does domestic things all day long.

In other words, boy meets boy and no one can stop pining.

Boys Fall Like Dominoes by orphan_account

Harry slips into an early heat while riding the tube. Naturally, that's when he meets Louis.

Looking In The Dark by orphan_account

Another self-indulgent a/b/o fic. This carries on from the same verse of Boys Fall Like Dominoes. As per always, you can find me on tumblr : domestic-harry

Enjoy! -Lis xx

Too Hot (Hot Damn) by louissass

“I’m what?”

“You’re in heat, baby,” He repeats, frowning when he catches the look on Harry’s face. “I thought you realised?”

Or, the one where Harry goes into heat in the middle of a concert but doesn't realise because of the heatwave.

i don't wanna be your friend, i wanna kiss your neck by crybaby

Harry has been in love with Louis Tomlinson for four years, five months, and thirteen days.

Harry had fallen in love with Louis Tomlinson like how he’d seen in movies, and how he’d read in all the books he’d stolen from Gemma, headfirst and shameless.

The only problem was, that in films and books, love was always either returned instantly, or else it took time for unrequited love to lose the first two letters, and since the first option was obviously not true, Harry decided he would wait for the second to become reality. And so Harry waited, three years, eight months, and four days, before his heart had been broken by a gentle rejection and a misplaced blowjob, before Louis and Gemma had packed up and gone to Manchester for university.

(Harry is a hopelessly romantic omega and Louis is his sister's best friend)

Drape Me In Your Warmth by fookinglousers

TMH era fic where Harry is an omega whose heat comes a little earlier than expected and really, who is Louis to deny him his knot?

pick my petals off (make my heart explode) by orphan_account

It’s when he’s frantically looking into the medicine cabinet for something to take that it hits him. He stares at the bottles of pills in horror, realizing what’s going on with him.

He’s completely forgotten about his suppressants. And he’s been spending so much time with Louis, too—of course the alpha’s constant proximity is going to trigger it.

He breaks into a sweat, now recognizing the hot feeling twisting inside him.

He’s going into heat.

(harry unexpectedly goes into heat in the middle of finals, and louis, being the good boyfriend that he is, helps harry through it.)

harry, you little shit by juliusschmidt

Harry’s an omega and he’s learning to like it. A lot.

All These Lights by MediaWhore

“People vote for alphas because they’re strong and they’re not only beautiful but also mesmerizing. They make you want to give them all of your attention, make you want to beg for some of theirs back. They’re shiny, oozing sex appeal and a commanding presence, and people always want more and more. Omegas are enticing too for sure, but it’s not the same. It makes people uncomfortable. It doesn’t make them want to root for you.”

the canon fic where Harry is an omega and dreams come with a price.

Pretend It's Okay by TheIfInLife

Harry and Louis are busy with life. Busy watching Zayn and Niall's twin boys, busy hanging out with friends, busy with life. And they forget Harry's suppressants.

taste on my tongue (just can't get enough of you) by messyjessy08

“Babe?” Louis asks, running a hand through Harry’s hair, soothingly. “What is it?”

Harry shakes his head, teeth digging into his bottom lip, sharply. “My—it’s—”

Louis’ eyebrows furrow in confusion, “What, Harry?”

He pulls a hand up to his chest, pressing hard against one of his pecs, “My fucking—her crying’s making them—Lou.”

Louis gasps, understanding. He reaches a hand up, pushing Harry’s aside, and thumbs gently across Harry’s nipple, somehow already dark and swollen, without having touched them once. “Harry,” He says in a low voice, chest rumbling at the sharp gasp Harry makes.

“Lou, they’re fucking—’m leaking.”

(Harry and Louis just had a baby and it's been a while since they've had sex.)

you took your toll on me (you got a hold on me) by messyjessy08

“Well give us a twirl. Let’s look at you from every angle.”

Harry cocks an eyebrow, gaze heavy. “Alright.” Pulling back the tail of his shirt, he spins slowly, pausing when his back’s facing Louis.

“Harry.” Louis attempts to gather his wits, speechless. “Baby.”

“Thought you might like that part as well,” Harry says, a smirk in his voice.

Thick strips of lace drape delicately over his skin, just under the bottom of his spine, connecting with thin elastic straps that move across his arse, leaving little sections of bare skin showing. The straps connect to form a diamond pattern, creating an opening right over where his hole would be. The skin surrounding it is already shiny with slick. Louis’ breath gets trapped in his lungs.

(Harry and Louis have the weekend to themselves, they make the most of it.)

This Thing Upon Me (howls like a beast) by SadaVeniren

Harry and Louis weren’t meant to be together. They’d met when they were put together through their university’s AO MatchUp, a program that set up alphas and omegas based on the schedules of their ruts and heats so they had someone to help them through it. It was pure luck that they were put together.

Lunch Break by purpleeyestelllies

Harry decides to bring his alpha lunch at work and surprise him with a visit from him and their baby daughter. Louis gets more than one surprise.

drunk on rose water by brainwaves

It’s the first time in a few years that Harry has a strong desire to risk everything for something he loves.

The last time, it was being a fashion model. This time, it’s Louis.

with his educated eyes (and his head between my thighs) by orphan_account

"We're...we're not the same," Harry says softly, looking at his hands. "I don't care," Louis replies back, fire and fury in his eyes.

or where Harry is just a little boy in a world full of arseholes, Louis is in way over his head, and destiny is a bunch of shit.

Everything I Do (I Do It For You) by LSFOREVER

"It's gonna be perfect," Harry whispers, taking Louis' face in both of his hands, nosing close but not yet kissing him. "Always is. You always make everything perfect."

"Good. Whenever your heat finally kicks in, I'll make sure to treat you perfectly too... I'm gonna bond you so hard."

or, Harry's heat is coming up and they've planned to finally bond, so Louis decides to plan a very eventful and loving week leading to said bonding.

resolutions and lovers in the kitchen by orphan_account

Their dinner’s probably going cold, but this feels monumental. So instead of sitting them down on the table and talking about it face to face over chicken and pasta, Harry just puts his hands over Louis’ where they’re settled on his lower stomach, not letting the moment slip past them. He takes a deep breath, carefully arranging his thoughts. “She looks really lovely, Louis. Positively glowing. Her bump’s so big, and…” he trails off, breath hitching slightly when Louis lifts his hand higher, settling it right over Harry’s stomach, and that’s—

“And what, baby?” Louis asks, voice now dropped to a whisper, and Harry has to take a moment to collect his thoughts.

“She, um. She knows about you, of course, and she asked me when we’re—when we’re having a baby of our own.”

(harry teaches little kids and louis writes sports articles. they're trying for a baby.)

Make It Work by fanshae

Prompt: Arranged marriage AU. Harry is an omega who has reached the age where he must be married due to his family's income status. Only the aristocratic omegas are exempt. His parents try to hide him but eventually the government gets word and in punishment, gives the omega to a spoiled aristocrat son of a lord, Louis. Louis is more than thrilled to have his own omega and once Harry goes into heat, he explores the boy with fascination and unintentionally impregnates him. This leads to a boy used to living carefree and drinking the day away with other nobles to having to face fatherhood.

This is only vaguely similar to the prompt so I'm sorry to OP in advance v.v

Stars Will Align For Us by 2tiedships2

"The serial monogamist is single," Niall said by way of introduction when he sat down across from Harry in the canteen.

Harry sipped his chocolate milk. "What are you going on about?"

"Your alpha dream boat," Niall said. "That tiny little footie player? I heard from Hannah that he's broken it off with his boyfriend so he’s single and ready to flamingle. Now's the time to make your move."

Harry sipped his chocolate milk harder to keep himself from replying.

Or the one where Harry is an omega at a loss of how to get past his pining and gain the attention of Louis...especially considering the alpha is always in a relationship.

Watch the Sun Coming Up by SadaVeniren

As Louis approaches his thirtieth birthday his pack is desperate for him to find a mate.

Harry has always expected one day he may settle down with a nice alpha and they would continue to live in his small hometown.

Together they somehow will make this work.

Dancing Shadows by SadaVeniren

The house was quiet by the time Louis walked up to it. He’d been away for a week and while it wasn’t the longest he’d ever been away from the pack, it was the longest he’d been away from Harry and the kids.

i'll be hurt from the heat (running from the heat) by itiswhatitisbutterfly

It's engrained into him, nothing else matters, protecting Harry at all costs is what pumps his heart and floods his veins. It’s just, he didn't count on the one thing Harry would need protecting from would be himself.

(Harry and Louis are in love, and they are probably soul mates. They just can’t be bond mates because despite the undeniable pull, it's them against the world.)

A Howl in the Night by emeraldharry

They've been trained to become Alpha protectors of their city, tasked to battle gruesome beasts and put their lives at risk on a daily basis.

Louis is a skilled warrior and dedicates his life for the protection of others, along with his four adopted brothers and comrades; Zayn, Liam, Niall, and Harry.

Troubles emerge when Harry proves to be a little less like the older Alphas, finding it hard to become who he's supposed to be and failing to reach other people's expectations towards him as a soldier.

Somewhere along the way, Louis and Harry realize that there's more than brotherly love between them, and that the world they live in requires a whole lot of suffering and sacrifices.

The biggest challenge yet arrives when the choice finally comes down between two things: their love for each other, or their responsibilities to the world.

[alpha/beta/omega dynamics with a twist]

Pretty Please (With Sugar On Top) by angelichl

Harry is a sugar baby omega who cons rich alphas for a living. Louis is a rich alpha with too much self-control.

Peppermint and Lavender (and Coffee) by 2tiedships2

“He was there again,” Louis announced by way of greeting. “Lottie was right and she can never know.”

"What the fuck are you talking about?” Niall asked as he snapped his laptop closed.

“The omega, Niall. He was there today. Just sitting in the corner looking pretty. Or at least his back is. He hasn’t turned around when I’m available to see. I know he’s beautiful though.”

"Okay?” Niall questioned. “What does that have to do with Lottie?”

Louis let out a huff. "She told me I shouldn’t work at a coffee shop. She was right.”

Or the one where Louis might have met the love of his life in a coffee shop. But that’s not how it’s supposed to happen.

Shadows Come With The Pain That You're Running From (Love Was Something You've Never Heard Enough) by hlftanna

“Thanks, Ni, I guess I needed to hear that,” Harry sighed and wrapped his own arms around Niall and squeezed him tightly not caring if Liam would be mad. He missed Niall so much.

“Does it really come as a surprise to you that I’m right? Shaking my head, Haz. You should know me better,” the brunette teased. Harry giggled again.

“You know Hazza, you really are so different to all the other alphas out there. You’re soft, caring, cuddly and sweet and those damn dimples. So freaking pretty, it’s almost annoying. I would hate you if you weren’t my best friend. You’d really be a brilliant omega. Nature really did a number here,” Niall mumbled. It was his turn to smash his nose into Harry’s neck and Harry was extremely thankful for that because he wasn’t sure he had his facial expression in check at all.

Or a Band AU in which Harry isn't allowed to be who he really is and the North American Tour might bring some unexpected truths into the web of lies and also a bit of heat that has very little to do with the summer in the US.

Home (It's You) by sunniskies

When Louis left his high-powered life in the city to settle down in the suburbs, he had hoped to one day fall in love and start a family. He certainly didn’t expect to meet the omega of his dreams within five minutes of moving in.

He also didn’t expect the love of his life to hate him so much.

Or, Louis and Harry are neighbors who can't seem to get along...until they fall in love.

sometimes green and sometimes blue by itsmiz

Harry's an omega, and Louis is an Alpha. They're best friends growing up together on the outskirts of Washington, D.C., but they've always been a bit more than friends.

little bitty rattle (and all our dreams are comin' true) by itsmiz

Louis and Harry are young mates in love. This is the story of them expanding their family, and all the love, hormones, and events that come with that.

cradles and crayons by itsmiz

Harry and Louis continue to expand their family.

Just Jump by jaerie

Finally, after years of suffering alone, the insurance plan at Harry's new job covered omega heat services. As a grown omega adult, it finally felt like the right time to try it out. And, since taking an entire week of heat leave would really put him behind at work, using a service to shorten it seemed like a responsible decision. At least that’s how he rationalized it. He was nervous about his decision but it was too late. The doorbell rang.

“Hi!” The alpha said again and Harry took the hand he offered and shook it firmly. “I’m Louis from Omega Services. It’s nice to meet you.”

Want It Flowing Through My Streams by screwstyles

Wimbledon ABO AU: Harry has just qualified for his first Grand Slam, and he’s prepared to make the most of it – that is, until his heat unexpectedly hits him only a few days before his first match. And it’s just his luck that Louis Tomlinson, the resident bad boy of British tennis, is the only person around to help him.

hard to confess by hereforlou

One, they only did it without a condom once (and a half) and not during his heat. Never during his heat. Two, he never once forgot to take his birth control (he’s almost sure). Three, his plan is to be married for a year before he even starts trying for a baby, and not only is he very, very single, him and Louis aren’t even sleeping together anymore. Which brings him to reason number four why this can’t be happening: Louis. Louis doesn’t want a baby with Harry.

(Or, the one where Harry knows he messed up and Louis knows nothing.)

Just a touch of your love by thegirlontheblackhoodie

“What if something happened to you? What would I say to Niall?”

“Nothing, he would have to wait to see my corpse on the news like everyone else.” Deadpanned Harry. Louis’ gasp was all the answer he got. Ok, so that might have been a bit too much. With a calmer voice, he said, “It’s really fine. I’ve walked to the tube countless times, I can handle myself. Just go home and tell Niall to stop mothering me.”

Louis was finally walking by his side and gave him a sideways glance before talking. “He doesn’t know, does he? Of your, uh, condition.” Harry tensed and his breath became erratic, but he didn’t say a word. Louis continued. “His nose probably hasn’t picked it up, and you’re lucky Liam’s also a beta, but it took me a minute to confirm it. Your scent is gettin’ so…” He seemed to struggle to find a word. He didn’t finish the sentence, but the emotion in his voice made Harry’s tummy churn.

Or, Harry is a touch starved omega trying to get through it on his own. Louis happens to be the only alpha around to realize it and offers to help.

Face Your Fears by SadaVeniren

Harry is a single father, pretending to be a beta after his alpha mated him and left him. He’s getting by just fine raising the twins when Louis walks into his bakery. Too bad him and Louis will never be a thing.

I Just Want You to Stay by SadaVeniren

“Remember the vet job up in Edinburgh I interviewed for right before your rut?” Louis nodded. “She just called me back. I got the job. I start next year.” Harry let out a shriek as he said the word year and he clapped his hands in delight. “Isn’t that great! Full time vet job! New animals to meet! A new environment!” He settled his eyes back on Louis, who was still standing there in front of him with wide eyes. “Isn’t it great, Lou?”

That seemed to jolt Louis out of his thoughts and he nodded immediately, opening his arms up for Harry to dive into. “Holy shit, yes. Congratulations. Come here,” he wrapped his arms around Harry and cuddled him close, pressing his nose into Harry’s neck. “Holy shit,” he whispered.

aka Louis and Harry have been roommates for four years, comfortable in their routine and their relationship. But all of that is about to change.

kiss with a fist (is better than none) by orphan_account

Harry and Louis don't get on at all.

BUT they do, in fact, do an awful lot of getting off~

Harry startled visibly, shaking off his deer in the headlights look and huffing quietly. Louis took a final, lingering glance along his scant frame, except the puppy chub at his hips, and then kept washing his hands with a faint sneer. He expected words, biting and sarcastic, as usual. Instead, he was met with silence. Confused, Louis turned back to him as he dried his hands, ready with a scathing remark. It died on his tongue. Harry's eyes were locked, very deliberately, on his crotch. His crotch, which was still unzipped, and therefore dick on display. Oh fuck.

“My eyes are up here, Styles,” Louis growled, cheeks flushing despite himself as he reached to do up his fly.

“Leave it.” It rasped from Harry's throat, thick and shaky. Louis froze, fingers cupping himself.

“Excuse me?”

Sigh Softly by aalexandravictoriaa

It was an unconventional nest, to say the least. Quite inconvenient too, not that Louis would ever dare admit that. The fact that his omega was nesting could only mean that he was pregnant and Louis’ chest rumbled at the mere thought. Harry stirred from his perch, blinking his eyes open at the sound of his growling alpha. Louis shushed him immediately and tucked him back into the safety of his nest. Louis just so happened to make up the majority of said nest.

Do Not Falter (There's a Star Ahead) by LadyLondonderry

It's Christmas Eve, and every single one of Louis' family members are crowded inside his little flat. Really, what more could he ask for on his birthday?

The present he never knew he wanted - in the form of an omega from his past - might just make this his most memorable Christmas.

a body wishes to be held & held by turnyourankle

Harry wants to return the favour after Louis helps him out with his heat.”

the beast you made of me by orphan_account

The bell tinkled, and Harry froze as an overpowering scent, musky and thick, crisp and slightly sweet, yet utterly masculine, delightfully tickled his senses. Harry's eyes slowly slid up to see the source of this wonderful scent, and his breath was taken away at the sex god before him, all muscled and compact and utterly screaming of Alpha. Icy blue eyes stared him down, set off by sharp cheekbones, a stubbled jaw that looked yummy enough to nibble on, and caramel hair, which was lazily gelled, a few pieces falling over his forehead. His skin was tan, his hands strong and steady, his biceps still clearly visible even through his jacket. Every fiber of Harry's being stood at full alert.

The one where Harry's a vanilla-sweet Omega and Louis walks into his bakery one day.

How Much My Heart Depends by lululawrence

Louis is an alpha working as a fraud analyst who keeps having Bad Days. Harry is an omega working in Quality Support who shares a cubicle wall with Louis and only wants to help. Maybe this is the perfect chance for them to finally meet face to face.

A Tentative Peace by colourexplosion

“I dunno.” Harry’s not whining, he’s not. He pulls himself free, finally, turns away and busies himself again with the dishes. “I didn’t want it to be weird.”

“It’s not weird,” Louis says, appearing in Harry’s periphery when he leans against the sink. “Biology, innit? You know I’m always here for you.”

It stings. Louis won’t sit and have a conversation with Harry, but sure, he’ll fuck him through a heat like it’s nothing. “It’s a little more than biology,” he mumbles, but Louis either doesn’t hear him (not likely) or flat out ignores him (very likely).

(Or, A/B/O featuring omega!harry and alpha!louis.)

Seeing Blind by zedi

Louis finally turns his head in Liam’s direction, knows his face is showing the longing he’s been aching with ever since it took root in his chest. “What the fuck do I do, Liam? He wouldn’t want me like that, but I want-” his voice cracks, and he turns his face back downwards. “What do you do when you’re not perfect for the person who’s perfect for you?”

OR the one where Harry’s an independent omega who likes to have his fun and Louis is the blind alpha that changes Harry’s priorities.

wanna taste your heart, don't interfere by orphan_account

Harry still remembers how unsure he felt when he first told Louis, how self-conscious he was. Louis had been nothing but understanding and kind, though, reassuring him that nothing’s going to change between them, that they’re still best friends regardless of sex. Harry had been mostly relieved at that, because he really doesn’t want to lose Louis as a friend over this, but another part of him had been a bit sad because… well, because nothing changed between them. Or rather, there is change, but it’s completely one-sided as far as Harry can tell.

This change being him not getting enough of the way Louis smells. He just can’t help it, is the thing, unable to stop himself from trying to subtly press his nose against the fabric of Louis’ shirt by his shoulders. He still smells like faint cologne and sweat, which is enough to make Harry start feeling slightly dizzy.

(harry presents as an omega, louis is his alpha best friend, and there are hidden feelings that just get harder to control.)

A Distant Hazy Light by green_feelings

Life’s pretty ordinary for Harry. He lives with his best friend, got into university just like he’s planned, and manages to support himself just fine for an unbonded omega. If he sustains that lifestyle by getting paid to help alphas through their rut every now and then, that’s nothing to be hung up on. Until he’s hired by an alpha that turns everything upside down.

Or, Harry’s working on taking Louis’ walls down, until he builds his own up.

London Calls Me a Stranger by Thatscoolbutwhataboutlarry

"Hello, my beautiful, conceited coquette."

"Hi, daddy."

Or the one where Harry is a tease, and Louis is his new neighbour.

Between the Shadow and the Soul by orphan_account

“It’s just easier to stay in Donny and train, Haz,” Louis says quietly. “Two transatlantic flights in less than a week right before a big match is a terrible idea. We should have known that before, but...”

Harry nods. It’s reasonable. It’s totally, completely reasonable and Harry can support that. Another five or six days of not being able to hold Louis’ hand and kiss him sweetly is killing Harry, but he can handle it. “Okay, so that’s, what, the 20th that you’ll be coming over here?”

Louis hesitates, and Harry has to bite back a frustrated growl. “I’ve got writing sessions and time in the studio scheduled as of yesterday, plus I’m supposed to get papped clubbing in London again and just… it’s shit but there’s no time to make the trip until early May, at the least.”

Or, Harry and Louis spend a month apart.

Wonderland by jacaranda_bloom

Louis has always loved lazy mornings in bed with his mate, but now that his Omega is carrying their pup, they’ve reached a whole new level of wonderment.

OR the one where Louis loves to worship his Omega’s body and Harry loves to let him.

All I Needed by FallingLikeThis

Harry is the omega captain of the Slytherin quidditch team with a team that won't listen to him. Louis is the alpha captain of the Gryffindor team who doesn't know how to offer help without seeming like a knothead, pushing his opinions on Harry. When he comes up with a rather questionable plan to try and get Harry to ask him for help, they may just both get what they need.

Come In and Change My Life by lightswoodmagic (sarah_writes)

He’d had the same neighbours since he’d moved into the building, a lovely, wealthy couple in their late sixties who had always invited him around for tea on Sundays. Martha had dropped off homemade biscuits the day he’d moved in, so Harry figured he may as well repeat the sentiment. He could hear someone getting closer to the door just as a flush ran through his body; oh fuck. His heat was close, too close to be knocking on a potentially unknown alpha’s door, but it was too late. The door swung open, and Harry’s mouth dropped. He’d never been overly interested in football, couldn’t find the fascination in watching men run around after a ball for hours aside from their uniforms, but he knew who this was. Louis Tomlinson, alpha, captain of Manchester United, star in a number of Harry’s heat addled fantasies, was his new next-door neighbour.

Or, Harry and Louis become friends when Harry looks after Louis' cat during away games, until one night at a party changes everything between them. It's just a shame Louis' going to be away for the FIFA World Cup for three months.

Put It Into Words by orphan_account

“It’s a good storm though, our families,” Louis says, flopping down on to the bed and cuddling close to Harry. He tucks his arm around Harry’s waist, kissing his temple. “The Cheshire house is perfect to raise the baby; your mum’s close, and my mum can stay in the guest bedroom when she visits.”

“And until then we have the long weekend to ourselves.”

Or, Harry and Louis go on a babymoon.

No Love Like Your Love by Rearviewdreamer

When it comes to saving the world from itself and convincing rich CEOs of environmentally harmful companies to go green, there's nobody better than Harry Styles. That is, until Louis Tomlinson, his ex and former Alpha, is involved.

We Are Inevitable by mmargarita

“What’s the second flaw?”

“The second inevitable flaw in your plan is:” Louis stood straight and walked towards Harry, grabbing his chin. Harry’s breath hitched. “Us.” Louis smiled. “We’re inevitable, baby. We’re soulmates, and we both know it. You just need to come back to me.” . . . 30/07/2020: This work has been edited and corrected, and now has 7k words more.

Take Me As I Am by lovelarry10

“Suppressant? But… why would I need a suppressant? Alphas don’t take suppressants.”

“You’re right, they don’t.”

****

Secrets. Lies. Deception. Betrayal. Self-discovery.

Alpha. Omega. How far will they go to hide the truth?

to wrap me in paper by juliusschmidt

Louis hasn't been keeping track of his ruts, but, it turns out, Harry has.

If you’ve made it to the end then congrats! and please stay safe and read the tags!!💕💕

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acoyotesmate · 6 years

Note

Can you make stalia meeting at a party😏😏

Can also be read here

Stiles stared out at the people in the hallway from his place at the top of the stairs. Scott and Isaac’s fraternity was hosting a party to celebrate the new additions to the house so naturally he’d been invited. Normally, he would have enjoyed being there but Scott and Isaac were busy with the pledges and none of their other friends could make it, meaning Stiles didn’t really know anyone there.

He downed the last of his beer and decided he’d use the restroom then find Scott and make some excuse to leave. He saw the line outside the bathroom, and decided to bypass it and use Scott’s en suite instead.He cursed himself when he realized he’d left his key to Scott’s room in his dorm. He tested the handle anyway and was surprised to find the door unlocked. It wasn’t like Scott to forget to lock it when there was a party going on. “Hello?” He called as he walked into the room.No response.Stiles shrugged and walked over to the bathroom. Panic shot through him after he opened the door and saw a girl look up at him from where she sat on the floor in between the toilet and the tub. “Sorry!” He shouted, backing out immediately., nearly tripping over himself to get out. “Wait! Come back!” The girl called just before the door clicked shut.Cautiously, he cracked the door open again, poking his head in. Now that he properly looked at her, she looked kind of familiar with her red hair and mascara stained cheeks.“You’re Scott’s friend, right? Biles?” She asked.He pushed into the bathroom. “Stiles, actually. And you’re Lydia, right? Jackson’s girlfriend?”“Yeah - well - ex-girlfriend now.” She confirmed. “Can you do me a favor Stiles?”He didn’t get a chance to say anything as she continued on, seeming to struggle with her words now that she had to really think, her words coming out a little slower as well.“Can you go downstairs and find my friend Malia? She’s got - um - short brown hair and - uh - legs for days, and she’s wearing a..red ? shirt or a purple? hoodie and shorts - very short shorts.” Lydia seemed to be thinking really hard about these somewhat unhelpful details about her friend, which only served to amuse Stiles. “She’s really cute and has a tomboyish quality and - what? ”Stiles couldn’t hide his grin.. “You’re really drunk aren’t you?”“No!” She protested unconvincingly.Stiles chuckled. “Right. I totally believe you.”Lydia pouted at him briefly before letting out a groan and angling herself towards the toilet.

And there went all traces of amusement. “So, Malia, right?”Lydia nodded, keeping her mouth firmly shut.“I’ll find her,” Stiles promised. “Be right back.”Lydia gave him a thumbs up and he hurried out of the room, the sounds of Lydia puking chasing after him. Stiles started his search for Malia by standing at the top of the stairs and scanning the areas he could see.He did see a couple of girls with either a red shirt or a purple hoodie but their hair wasn’t right. Next he made his way to the rec room, but no one in there marked a single tick on his list of descriptors. He made his way through most of the downstairs without much luck before finally heading to the kitchen.After a minute of looking around he saw a girl with short brown hair, a purple shirt, and a blue hoodie. He would have dismissed her, but she was wearing jean shorts that showed off her legs, reminding him of the one description he’d been ignoring.He decided to take a chance. Even if it wasn’t her, she might know who Malia was.“Malia?” He asked once he was close enough to be heard over the musicThe girl turned around and looked at him curiously. “Yes?”He smiled in relief. “Um, hi, your friend Lydia asked me to find you. She’s in pretty rough shape.”Malia frowned. “Damn. I thought Allison was watching her.”“Apparently not because Lydia’s currently puking in Scott’s bathroom,” He informed her.“Oh, great.” Malia turned to face him fully. “Can you take me to her? I’ve never been here before.”“Yeah, come with me,” Stiles said, gesturing for her to follow him.They pushed their way through the crowd of people and went upstairs. Fortunately, it didn’t sound as if Lydia was still throwing up.

Unfortunately, she was passed out with her face on the toilet seat.“That can’t be sanitary,” Stiles commented as Malia went to her friend’s side.Malia shook her gently until Lydia’s eyes fluttered opened.“Lia!” She exclaimed as she pulled herself into a sitting position.“What happened to you?” Malia asked.Lydia blinked at her for a second. “Wow. You’re really hot. Why are you still single again?”Malia shoved away the hand Lydia was outstretching towards her face with a sigh. “I definitely need to get you home.”Lydia nodded and Malia stood, offering her hands to Lydia who took them, but still struggled to get to her feet.“Do you need any help?” Stiles asked, feeling partly responsible for Lydia since he was the one who found her.“Yes, please, she’s heavier than she looks,” Malia said.“Hey!” Lydia protested drunkly from where she was still trying to get up.Once Lydia was upright, both arms slung over Malia and Stiles to keep her propped up, they made their way out of the bathroom. They didn’t get very far as Lydia took one look at the bed and tried to collapse on it, almost toppling them all over.Stiles was forced to let go when she tried it a second time. Lydia took the opportunity to climb up the bed, Malia pulling at her waist, trying to stop her to no avail.“Jus lemme sleep!” Lydia exclaimed.“This is Scott’s bed!” Malia pointed out.“He can sleep with Isaac.” Lydia mumbled as she buried herself under the blankets.Malia sighed. “Lydia.”Stiles decided to step in. “It’s fine. I’m sure Scott won’t mind, but we should probably tell him before he comes up.”Malia nodded. “Right. Would you mind telling him? I want to stay with her until she falls asleep.”“Sure,” He agreed easily.He left the two girls alone, and went to find Scott.

—————————————

About half an hour later, Stiles was in the kitchen talking to some kid in his sociology course when he felt a tap on his shoulder. Despite sticking around in case she wanted to talk, Stiles was still surprised to find Malia standing there.“Uh, hey,” he greeted, turning to her fully.“Hey, so, thanks for helping me with Lydia,” Malia said.

“No problem. I’m glad I could help,” Stiles told her. “And hey, Scott said it’s totally cool that she’s in his bed. He kind of expected it after he let her in to use the bathroom.”

Malia smiled. “Cool.”

“Yeah.”

“You know, you never actually told me your name,” Malia said.

“Oh! Right!” Stiles offered up his right hand for to shake, his left hand settling on his chest as he said, “I’m Stiles.”

She shook his hand. “Nice to meet you, Stiles.”

“You too.” He let go of her hand and gestured to the kitchen. “Want to get a drink?”

“Sure,” She said.

“So are you part of the fraternity too?” Malia asked once they both had drinks.

“No, Scott’s my best friend so I get invited to all their parties,” Stiles explained.

“Oh. You didn’t want to join?”

Stiles shook his head. “Nah, I wasn’t really looking forward to living with a bunch of dudes. Especially Scott and Isaac who are the messiest human beings I’ve ever met. Besides, I really like having a dorm to myself.”

Malia chuckled. “That makes sense.”

“What about you? Are you in a sorority?” Stiles asked.

“Yeah, but only because Lydia is pretty hard to say no to,” Malia admitted.

“That’s exactly what Allison said when she joined Alpha Chi Omega too,” Stiles said with a laugh.

Malia grinned. “Yeah, she might not seem like it when she’s drunk, but she’s kind of a force of nature.”

“Oh, trust me, I’ve seen her get her way with Jackson of all people. I don’t doubt her abilities to get what she wants.” Stiles said.

Malia scoffed at that. “Well, apparently Jackson is over her abilities.”

“Right, she mentioned she was his ex now,” Stiles said, barely remembering that little detail. “So that’s why she was crying in the bathroom? He broke up with her tonight?”

Malia nodded. “She found him making out with another girl and when she asked him what he was doing he said breaking up with you. She got really drunk, found Scott and well, you know the rest.”

Stiles shook his head. “Man, I knew Jackson was a dick, but that’s a new low even for him.”

Malia just shrugged. “I’m just glad they’re finally over. I hate that guy.”

“Me too.” Stiles admitted.

“I’d punch him in the face if I didn’t think he’d go crying to daddy about it,” Malia muttered.

“Hey, if I was rich, I’d totally pay your legal fees if it meant Jackson got a little taste of what he deserves.” Stiles said.

Malia chuckled before taking a long swig of her drink.

An idea popped into Stiles’ head just then, a big, devious grin spreading across his face.

Malia seemed intrigued by his expression. “What?”

“What would you say about getting a little revenge on that asshole?” Stiles asked.

Malia grinned. “What did you have in mind?”

“Come with me,” Stiles said excitedly, grabbing Malia’s hand. He led her upstairs and into one of the rooms.

“What are you looking for?” Malia asked as Stiles started digging through the nightstand.

“Laxatives.”

“Laxatives?” Malia questioned.

“Yeah, see, Jackson keeps his protein powder in the kitchen, so all we have to do is mix in the laxatives and he’ll be stuck in the bathroom all day tomorrow.” Stiles explained, shoving the top drawer closed and opening the second one.

Malia laughed. “That’s really gross, but if anyone deserves it, it’s him.”

Stiles finally found what he was looking for. He quickly grabbed one of the packets from the box and held it out to Malia victoriously, kicking the drawer shut behind him.

“Who even keeps laxatives in their room?” Malia asked, studying the package.

“Greenberg. He’s kind of an odd dude.” Stiles said. “So, are you ready to get some justice for Lydia?”

Malia grinned. “Yeah, let’s go.”

Once in the kitchen, Malia acted as a shield from prying eyes as Stiles put in the laxatives. No one seemed to notice them, too busy making out, or talking or just generally enjoying the party.

“And now we wait,” Stiles told her after putting the powder away.

She gestured to the living-room-turned-dance-floor. “So, now that that’s done, do you wanna dance?”

“I’m not much of a dancer,” Stiles said.

She grabbed his hand and pulled him towards the giant living room. "Well that’s about to change.“

Stiles let himself be led into the middle of the crowd, thinking a pretty girl making him dance was hardly anything to complain about. Malia turned out to be quite the dancer, crowding close as she guided his dance moves, completely unafraid to grind against him. He was obviously less coordinated than she was, but she managed to cover up any fumbled movements on his part.

They danced for a while, compelled to stay so temptingly close by the charged atmosphere that clouded around them as they danced. Eventually though, Stiles needed some air, and Malia needed another drink so they found their way to the kitchen, staying only a moment to grab drinks before going to sit on the front porch steps.

“You’re a really good dancer,” Stiles commented as they settled down next to each other.

“Thanks. You’re not so bad yourself,” Malia said.

Stiles snorted. “You don’t have to spare my feelings.”

“Well, in that case, you’re pretty bad,” Malia teased.

Stiles smiled. “I know, but hey, at least if I’m dancing with you I know no one’s paying attention to me.”

Malia chuckled. “No, but they can probably feel you. You’re limbs are a safety hazard. Especially when you do that thing with your arm and leg.”

“What? The sprinkler? That’s a classic!” Stiles said.

Malia shook her head, with an amused laugh. “Classic does not mean good.”

“It can!” Stiles insisted. “And newer doesn’t always mean better! Take Star Wars for an example! The original trilogy is freakin’ great, but the prequels were trash!.

"Hey, that’s not a fair comparison and you know it!” Malia exclaimed. “Besides, all of the movies are flawed in some way!”

Needless to say, the conversation stayed on Star Wars for quite a while, Stiles having this uncontrollable urge to defend the original trilogy. It was fun arguing about the flaws and redeemable qualities of Star Wars as a whole with Malia. Eventually though, the conversation came to a natural conclusion and they were sat just listening to the repetitive thud of the music coming from inside.

“So, what’s your major?” Stiles asked after a moment.

“Biology. I’m studying to become a vet.”

“Oh, cool, is that how you know Scott?” Stiles asked.

“Uh - no actually I have two classes with Isaac,” she explained. “I barely met Scott yesterday when he surprised us with Starbucks. ”

Stiles nodded. “Sounds like him.”

Malia looked amused as she said, “You know, I’m pretty sure Isaac hadn’t mentioned me to him yet, and he just gave me his coffee to be polite.”

Stiles snorted. “Yeah, he’s too nice for his own good sometimes.”

“I think he’ll be a very good friend to have,” Malia said.

“The best really,” Stiles said, a smile on his face as he thought of his best friend.

Malia turned to him. “What about you? Are you a good friend to have?”

Stiles met her gaze, realising then how close they’d been sitting. "I like to think so. Are you?“

"Maybe, but tonight I’m not trying to be your friend,” Malia said, leaning towards him.

“Oh yeah?” Stiles asked, his breath hitching.

“Yeah.” Malia’s hand settled on his cheek, and she seemed to be watching him as she continued to slowly lean forward. Stiles realized she was looking for any hint of rejection, and quickly decided to reassure her by being the one to close the short distance between them.

Kissing Malia quickly became very, very heated, and that was how they found themselves going upstairs yet again.

————————————

“You know, you never asked me my major. ” Stiles said, twirling his fingers on Malia’s back.

Malia looked up at him from where her head was resting on his chest, a teasing smile on her face. “Maybe I was saving that for our first date.”

“Are you asking me out?” Stiles questioned.

Malia shrugged. “I’m not not asking you out.”

“A double negative. I like it.” Stiles told her.

“So, next Friday?” Malia suggested.

Stiles smiled. “Yeah. Meet me at the library parking lot at seven.”

Malia smiled too and moved up to kiss him. It was a nice, long kiss - a drastic difference from the ones that led them here, lying naked in Isaac’s bed.

The door opened suddenly, causing both of them to jolt up into a sitting position, clutching the sheets to cover themselves. Stiles felt his soul leave his body when he saw Scott backing Isaac into the room, kissing him with obvious intent, his hands groping his boyfriend shamelessly. His eyes being closed was quite the blessing really.

Stiles turned to share a look with Malia. After a few seconds of just staring at him in horror, she signaled for him to get their clothes. He managed to get Malia’s undewear to her before Isaac was pushed onto the bed.

Unfortunately, he landed on Stiles’ legs.

Scott locked eyes with Stiles first, and he saw them widen in surprise, then shift to Malia, then back to Stiles, then down to Isaac. That’s when Stiles noticed Isaac was now frozen in place, staring at him and Malia.

In a heartbeat, Isaac’s expression turned to one of murderous fury.

Right. I can probably get my underwear on before he kills me.

“STILES!” Isaac shouted, shooting across the bed.

Stiles jumped out of bed, grateful to Scott for grabbing onto his boyfriend’s waist so he had enough time to pull on his underwear, toss Malia the rest of her clothes and run out of the room yelling, “I’ll see you Friday!”

“Not if I kill you first!” Isaac threatened, breaking free from Scott and running after him.

Even with this end to the night - the one where Isaac chased him through the house for having sex in his bed - Stiles couldn’t say he was anything but lucky.

I hope you liked it! - Jay

#stalia fic #stalia #stiles x malia #malia tate

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fordarkisthesuede · 6 years

Text

At the Brink of Midnight - Chapter 9

*Arrives two days late with Starbucks* ‘Sup, guys! σ( ▼∀▼)σ These past 96 hours have somehow filled me with a weird chaotic energy, and I pumped out the longest roller-coaster of a chapter I’ve ever done in such a short amount of time!!! Thank you, whoever sent all the writing vibes my way!!!! ★>d(,,･ε´-,,)⌒☆ I’m sending out strong vibes to everybody in return! *May you get hit by the writing bug and have the opportunity and energy to completely translate your ideas to printed words!*

Buuut a big note before we get to the good stuff: I realized too late that the original events of S2 take place in Spring. Like…April. I was writing all of this with the thought that S2 took place in fall; I mean, the characters can wear a leather jacket or a couple of layers comfortably, so I thought “yeah that sounds like early autumn”. Nope! So that means that for this story’s timeline, everything gets shifted into where it should be. On the downside, that means I had to go through and edit all the bits where it said “it was totally spring, you guys”. On the upside… IT’S NOW OCTOBER!!!!! THE SPOOKY SEASON THAT COMPLETELY FITS WITH WHAT’S GOING ON!!! And coincidentally, it’s my favorite time of the year, so I love writing about it even more! I get to add in a thing here and there about the spookiest time of the year, so I’ll have a nice list of what those little changes are uploaded here soon if you don’t feel like re-reading the whole thing. A re-read isn't necessary though, just keep in mind that the humid air of rainy spring in the city is replaced with chilling fronts and even more cloud cover than usual. Why am I bothering with this? Because I’m a stickler for keeping with canon as much as possible and I feel like an absolute fool for not remembering what goddamn time of year it was to begin with. (I mean, I went so far as to download all of TeamFourStar’s play-through because I watched it so often, you think I'd remember to go back and watch the very beginning once in a while…)

Anywho, thank you all again for your continuously loving support!!!

♡~(ɔ ˘3˘)˘⌣˘ c)

Important Spoiler Tags: drugs (mentioned), swearing, canon-typical violence, electric shocks (mentioned), torture of flowers, flirting, almost an excessive use of emoji, crying, romantic dirty thoughts

Read on Ao3 or continue below:

Chapter 9: Grapevines

Bruce Wayne couldn’t remember the last time he’d conducted a meeting from his home office. It wasn’t as if he didn’t use it – the desk surface had hardly any dust settled on it and two empty coffee mugs he’d forgotten about on two different occasions just happened to be stacked behind the monitor – but it felt strange, like a lot of things did lately.

He knew part of the reason for that was watching houses down in the Batcave right now. Knowing he wasn’t alone in the house was comforting, but knowing there were two cops outside the Manor’s front door just waiting for a chance to grab his best friend-cum-houseguest was not, and knowing that they were both close to being thrown in hot water was even less so.

He figured the other reason he felt strange was because he was slipping back into his old habit as if it had never been shelved in the first place. He had time to kill before the video meeting started, so he’d been scouring for information on “Pam”, Jonathan Crane’s ‘old friend’.

There were a few Pamela’s in Gotham, but only one fit within Crane’s age-range and attended Gotham University at about the same time: Pamela Isley, a forty-four-year-old former botanist with a record that ran the length of his arm. Theft, assault, threats, and attempted poisonings all done in the name of extreme environmentalism and social activism were sprinkled in her history before and after her days as a researcher, and according to GCPD records, she was now suspected of running her own drug-ring under the moniker of ‘Poison Ivy’. (Bruce found several recorded instances of people claiming to be Poison Ivy, most of whom were already arrested.)

Bruce would’ve wondered why on Earth she hadn’t been thrown in prison when she made a bomb-threat at a wealthy businessman several states away nearly a decade ago if he hadn’t seen her mug-shot from back then. At thirty-five, she looked every bit as beautiful as a top-billed Hollywood star, with natural orange-red curls cascading over her pale shoulders and ample bust in chemically-tamed waves, flashing the camera a come-hither stare that made it look like she was trying for a part in a high-budget porn flick rather than standing in front of a height chart for her criminal record. Pamela’s charges were mysteriously swept under the rug.

The latest photo he found of her reminded him a bit of those ‘cougar’ dating ads he’d seen – the older Pamela was blowing a kiss to the camera with a mocking look in her dark green eyes. Bruce glared at it. There was little doubt she was using people to cover for her constantly, and when she was in trouble, she managed to wriggle out of it with her looks.

Not this time. She was friends with Dr. Jonathan Crane, and that meant she wasn’t going to get out of this unharmed. The second his virtual meeting was over, Bruce was heading towards Toxic Acres, and hopefully the wounded Crane would still be there to see Batman’s fist hit his –

Bruce snapped out of his thoughts at the buzz of his phone. A message from the BatComputer…?

I’m bored :/

Bruce blinked down at the screen. John had found the emergency messaging system. Of course he had. He was just grateful that the encryption software on his phone was still up to date. Just what else did John poke his nose into down there…? (There was the chance that John would see files he shouldn’t, but Bruce kept those under a thumbprint encryption. He shouldn’t even entertain the thought.)

Stake-outs are usually pretty boring.

It wouldn’t be so bad if you were down here tho! :)

Bruce hovered his thumb over the keyboard, unsure of what to say. The feeling was kind of mutual, if he was being honest; having another person around on a stakeout would at least keep his mind wandering into the worsts of what-ifs and double-checking every last security issue…

No movement on either houses btw. Been reading Crane’s docs in the meantime but it’s DREADFUL!!! I feel like I’m reading a sleeping pill… =_=

You finish your WE stuff yet?

Meeting’s not for another 20 minutes. Been looking up stuff on Crane’s “friend”.

Oh??? :o Do tell!!!!

Bruce couldn’t help but smile at the enthusiasm.

Pamela Isley, former botanist w/ criminal rec., mostly extreme protest kind of stuff. Good chance she’s the head of a drug-ring that moved here a couple months ago; their leader goes by “Poison Ivy”.

They went to college together, but Pamela moved back here recently.

hMmMmm…. That means no burning the place down if we’re stuck! Bad fumes everywhere xP

Bruce focused on the word “we’re”. He hadn’t been planning on bringing John along. He wanted him safe, at home, where no one had a chance of seeing him and he wasn’t put in harm’s way…

Oh!!! You’ve got a bunch of sticky electro-shockers around - do you mind if I tinker with them? :3c pleeeeaaasssee?

What are you thinking of doing with them?

Making one BIIIIIG shock-bomb, of course! ;D I can wire them together so the shock spreads evenly in the space while it’s discharging.

Bruce reconsidered bringing John. He was still learning to curb his impulses, so being outside in a fighting environment would be a serious gamble, but... Maybe that could be their advantage, too. Bruce made a mental note to go dig out the spare bullet-proof vest from his closet’s secret panel.

You can do that?

I played around with making something like it before, but……well, you know.

Time + supplies for that project were low att. I figured I could always go back to it later anyway.

Bruce felt like his heart had deflated and swelled in such a short time that it hurt.

I mean I’m fine with throwing knives around too but I figured that would be less discrete ¯\_(ツ )_/¯

He’d been thinking of different methods of entering the “house”. Most of them featured a silent slip-in and as little combat as possible, but he knew that there would likely be some muscle around to stop any would-be intruders, and getting a quieter jump on them would certainly be helpful. He would certainly be lying if he said he wasn’t impressed that John had thought that far ahead even back then.

If you think you can get it done within 1.5 hours, then yes.

Ha ha ha with these supplies I can get it done in like 40 mins! >:3 just you watch!!!

Btw have you seen the news?

Not yet. Why?

I was on the morning edition! At least they used a good pic ;D

But also saw a guy getting fished out of the harbor. Your handy-dandy invasion software said he’s a registered Ryde driver.

I told you not to fiddle with that.

Sorry, but I only used it the once! Promise!!!

Bruce sighed through his nostrils.

Besides I thought you’d want to know. Think Crane stole his ride and dumped him by the docks? :v

Probably. I can get the plate from up here to verify. DO NOT TOUCH THAT PROGRAM AGAIN.

Yes sir ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)

Bruce wasn’t sure if that message was supposed to be flirtatious or mocking.

The incoming call from Iman Avesta stopped him from responding. He figured it had to do with John’s escape and the extra security added at Wayne Tower this morning, but why was she calling him now, rather than several hours ago?

“Iman?”

“Hey, Bruce. Hold on a sec – there we go, now we can both -”

“Bruce, what the fuck?” Tiffany asked over the line. “Are you at home right now?”

Bruce almost sighed at the attitude. “Yes, Tiffany, I’m at home, in my office.”

“Uh-huh. I keep getting alerts that your basement’s messaging system is being used. Care to explain that?”

Oh. Of course. He’d forgotten Tiffany had linked her phone to that, too. It’d just…been too long, he supposed. (She couldn’t read them, though, could she? He was fairly sure it didn’t give out mass-texts unless prompted.) “…where are you right now?”

Iman responded instead. “We’re in your second office.”

“…the line’s secure?”

“Of course.” Iman paused, and Bruce knew his new CSO was choosing her words carefully. “I’m guessing you have John Doe in the Batcave?”

“Yes.”

“Bruce, did you fucking break him out?” Tiffany asked with no shortness of impatience.

“I rescued him,” Bruce said firmly. “I know what you’re thinking, and I have a pretty good idea of what you’re going to say, but listen: I had no choice but to take him with me. One of the doctors working at Arkham has gone rogue – he’d been doing experiments on patients, and I have a feeling he’s going to continue them on civilians. I need to find him before then, and John has been helping me.”

“Helping…? You’re not bringing him in the field with you?” Tiffany said disbelievingly. “After that psychopath almost killed us?”

Bruce could still see Joker running at Tiffany, knife in hand, his psychotic breakdown in full force. He could still see him being smacked against the railing, sheer madness played over his long, bloody face as he desperately fought to stab what was his hero.

But John and Joker were as much the same as Bruce and Batman were, and they were constantly changing.

The Joker in the Batcave wasn’t the same one from Ace Chemicals.

“I know what John did,” he answered, trying to breathe even as something wanted to hitch in his throat, “and I know how far he’s come since then. I know you both regret-”

“No, I’m not listening to this right now,” Tiffany scowled, her voice fading in the middle her sentence like she was leaving the room. “Talk some sense into him.”

Bruce heard Iman’s voice call after her, and then nothing for a beat.

Iman sighed. “I’ll talk to her. But Bruce,” she started seriously, “Tiffany isn’t the only one worrying about you. Six months can’t possibly cure everything wrong with a man whose spent his life in an asylum.” He could practically hear her chew over her phrasing. “I need to know… If John goes too far – if he shows signs of regressing…or just becoming more volatile – I need to know you’re going to put your foot down.”

“I’m more than capable of handling him, Iman.”

“Please, Bruce, I’d rather not have to pull you off another broken pipe lodged in your kidney.” She paused, and Bruce let her continue, feeling the scar in his side twinge at the painful memory. “I know you care a lot about him,” she resumed in a softer tone, “and I know you trust him. But if you doubt him at any time, you need you to step back and re-evaluate your choices. I don’t want him to regress back into the Joker.”

That was a different Joker, Bruce wanted to say. He knew that wouldn’t sound the way it should. “I promise I won’t let that happen.”

“Good to know,” Iman replied, sounding somewhat relieved. “This doctor you’re hunting – is there anything we can do to help?”

Bruce shot a look at the clock in the corner of his monitor. He didn’t have as much time left as he would’ve liked before his virtual meeting started. “Tiffany can fill you in a bit, I had her help searching Arkham’s records before. Can you run a plate for me? I think Dr. Crane is running with a stolen car; I’ll send you the details in a bit.”

“Sure. We can check traffic cams for it, too, if you’d like.”

“If you would. And the second I have anything concrete on Dr. Crane, I’m sending Tiffany the details – I need her pull as Oracle to get the word out to the GCPD before anything happens. They’ll listen to their number-one informant more than a vigilante coming out of retirement.”

“…you’re…?”

He could almost see the shock in her face. They’d had a short discussion about his alter-ego when he decided to quit the first time; she’d been incredibly understanding about the whole thing. It was almost as if she’d seen it coming.

“Are you sure?”

He was as sure. She didn’t know about the instincts broiling underneath his surface every day. She didn’t know he never really stopped being half of himself. She wouldn’t know or really understand that he just shoved it all down and aside like he did so much else just to get through things. “I don’t have any other options at this point.”

“…you know you can count on us if you need the help.”

“Of course I do.”

“Right. Well, in the meantime we’ll keep the fort over here running as smoothly as possible.”

“Thank you. I’ll talk to you later.”

“Good luck.”

The line went silent, and Bruce pulled his phone away, catching a glimpse of three unread messages.

Sorry, buddy, I was just kidding around, you know? Ha ha

Bruce???

Hello???????

Sorry, had a phone call and couldn’t reply. It’s fine.

Seconds ticked by, and Bruce began changing out of his black t-shirt and into his button-down. It wouldn’t do to appear as a CEO in anything less than a proper suit. He could leave the jeans on, at least.

“Oh! Uh…sorry, Bruce…”

He felt his heart stop for a second. That was definitely John’s voice, even though it crackled slightly from the speakers. The monitor didn’t show anything out of the ordinary. John must have been using the spy-camera feature on the Batcomputer; it was linked to most the devices in the house, and Bruce’s webcam was no exception. He’d almost forgotten it had a loudspeaker function, too.

“I didn’t realize you were…um, changing.”

Bruce glared at the webcam’s lens. “John, what did I tell you about fiddling with the Batcomputer?”

“…sorry. I was worried when you didn’t answer me.”

He sounded genuine, at least. Bruce could easily picture him running upstairs to find him, if there wasn’t a chance he would’ve been seen. “I answered you a minute ago. I was on a call with Iman,” he stated plainly, fixing the buttons on his sleeves.

“…oh, ha ha, there it is! Uh, I guess I’ll just…go, then…”

Bruce almost questioned why John was sounding nervous and distracted, but it wasn’t until he saw the webcam light wink off again that he realized his shirt was wide open, the scars littering his torso half on display from the waist up.

Thankfully, no one was around to see Bruce bury his face in the palm of his hand for a moment, feeling like his face was on fire from first and second-hand embarrassment.

It didn’t last long. Bruce took a few deep breaths as he fixed himself up, and dialed into the meeting with a fixed expression of calm, firmly ignoring the heat that had settled in his stomach that threatened to go lower at the thought that John was bound not to forget any of that.

Driving the Batmobile in full gear again was certainly something else. Bruce felt the weight of the Kevlar body armor press against his limbs as he sped down Gotham’s twisting alley streets, no one any the wiser that the Wayne’s red sports car was hiding Batman behind it. The city’s CCTV signal was scrambled with the flick of a switch as he came into driving distance of the alley’s camera, making him almost untraceable.

He’d given the Honda Accord a head-start; it couldn’t go nearly as fast as the Batmobile, and Bruce had to find a spot to safely change before going to go pick John up from his drop-off point, and the post-working-hours traffic had already gotten its usual early start. It was a slower drive than he’d like it to be, even with Bruce’s shortcuts.

The setting sun was completely obscured by a dark overcast. It made the orange streetlamps glowing over the decorations sitting here and there in windows and doors even more energetic, like every corner of Gotham was slowly growing with the energy of Halloween.

Bruce clicked the communicator in his cowl. “John, are you there yet?”

Silence for a few seconds, and then a rustling noise. “Sorry, I had to take this off for a bit. What?”

“Are you there yet?”

John giggled slightly. “Oh, yeah, I’m here. Just waiting on you, pal.”

He was already at the meeting point? How did he get there so fast? “You put everything back where it was supposed to be?”

“No, I stripped the seats and threw everything into the garbage,” John grumbled with dripping sarcasm. “Of course I did, it’d be rude not to put Jerry’s stuff back. What do you take me for?”

“…I’m just making sure you didn’t forget anything.”

“I didn’t.” There was a loud slurping noise, like the last of a liquid being sucked from a straw.

“John, where are you right now?”

“In the alley, waiting for you.”

“Did you make a stop?”

John giggled, a little louder, but not at all nervous. He was enjoying himself. “What can I say? Going out on the town with you like this makes me thirsty,” he said with a strange purr. “Besides, no one bats an eye at me when I look like this anyway.” He paused. “Well, no, I’ve gotten some eyes on me, but, uh, I think they’re more the appreciative type. I guess ZZ Top was kinda right about the sharp-dresser thing.”

Bruce felt his brows knit together. “You’ve always looked sharp,” he said truthfully, turning down a narrow alley.

“Yeah, but not thousand-dollar-suit sharp. There’s a difference! Plus I think this bullet-proof vest makes me look a little bulkier than I actually am.”

Bruce spotted him leaning against the graffiti-covered wall, a Burger Lord cup in one hand and a plastic orange bag in another. Just how much time did Bruce lose while he was changing?

John tossed the drink in the dumpster and practically jumped into the car, shoving the orange bag behind the driver seat and slamming the door shut as Bruce switched off the communicator. He took one look at Bruce’s questioning glower and gave a nervous sort of grin. “Hey, don’t look at me like that, there’s something in there for you, too.”

Bruce almost asked what, but decided that a lecture on keeping a low profile and not taking money from his house’s various hiding spots would have to wait. (Though he supposed whatever John got wasn’t expensive. He was quite frugal, and it wasn’t as if Bruce couldn’t afford to buy John whatever he wanted anyway.) He concentrated instead on heading down the twisting path towards Toxic Acres. At least the traffic over there was a hell of a lot lighter.

“Hey, when you drove me to the Batcave, did you go in fourth gear, or third?”

He wasn’t sure why he asked, but he honestly couldn’t remember. He just recalled putting his foot to the floor and keeping his eyes on the road, occasionally reaching over to check John’s pulse. “I wasn’t really paying attention to that; I concentrating more on driving as fast as possible.”

“Oh – so you didn’t know you could punch the shift down into third whenever you wanted? It was so fun! I can say I literally punched it out of the Batcave!” He laughed. “I’m guessing you can’t do that in this car?”

“…I’ve got paddle shifters.” They were starting to travel into the more deserted road leading into Toxic Acres. Bruce took a sharp turn onto the hill with the broken Do Not Enter sign, and checking that no one was behind him, flipped the switch to shift the car into armored plates and pressed the wheel-paddle for a lower gear.

They flew down the road with a whirring whine of the engine, John’s notorious excited laugh mixing with it, and Bruce allowed himself to smile a little at it, knowing his own little joyful thrill wouldn’t last very long.

John was soon tapping his fingers together in some kind of rhythm as they passed by more empty houses, Bruce moving a little slower to keep his eyes out for trouble. Sitting close to the river on the outskirts of the city, they were originally meant to be a long neighborhood for the middle and upper class to build their lives, but as the unemployment and crime rates rose, the place became abandoned. It didn’t help that the piping structure to carry water there had been faulty, making either lead poisoning or unfiltered dirty water a prominent problem and giving the section of Gotham its nickname.

“How do we know which place is the botanist’s?” John asked, his green eyes scouring the houses in front of them.

“I sent out another drone earlier for some aerial shots. There’s a place with camouflaged green-houses in the back on Aster Place.”

“Wow, you did that before I left? That was fast…”

“It was a quick job. I’m not picking up the other drone until later.”

They turned the corner onto Aster Place; the road would dead-end in a while, but Bruce knew the house wouldn’t be situated at the end.

“Oh, there’s the spot Jackie got shot at!” John pointed ahead. “I wonder if there’s a bloodstain left…!”

Bruce tightened his grip on the wheel. “We’re close.”

It was oddly quiet out there. There was no other sign of life in what was a hot-spot of criminal hide-outs. Bruce turned on the thermal vision in his cowl; a lot of the houses were actually empty for once.

Except for one. 1801 Aster Place. There were a group of people scattered around on the bottom floor and what appeared to be a lot of heat-lamps running on the top floor. If one of the people in the group wasn’t Pamela Isley, then she might have been holding up in the basement…

They left the Batmobile out of sight down the road, and Bruce and John moved swiftly behind the backs of the houses in the chilly night air, the taser bomb safely in John’s coat pocket; John was surprisingly quiet, only humming a familiar tune here and there. (Wasn’t it the theme from that old spy-thriller…?) Bruce managed to quiet him with a look, and John mimed locking his mouth shut and throwing the key away.

Two unknown people were standing in what used to be a kitchen; three more people were up in the front room of the house. There were no security cameras to be seen.

“Stick close to me,” Bruce whispered, the modifier in his cowl deepening his voice. “We go in through the back window, take out the two in the kitchen quietly and throw the bomb up front so we can cuff the lot. If none of them are Ms. Isley, we find the basement.”

John gave him a thumbs up, pulling out the riot baton he had hidden away. (Bruce had still not remembered when he or Alfred bought that, but vaguely remembered stashing it in the towel cupboard with some other emergency gear. He wasn’t surprised John found it.)

The bathroom window’s locks weren’t difficult to break. They looked like they had been broken several times already. Bruce slid the insect screen up and slipped in through the thin opening feet-first, twisting his limbs just right to softly land on the floor. He had to help pull John through the rest of the way after he smacked his head on the bottom of the window; thankfully he hadn’t made any noise, but he did give Bruce a strange look as brushed himself off where Bruce had gripped his sides.

Bruce didn’t have time to think about it.

The two people in the kitchen stood in semi-darkness, watching through the patio windows with rifles leaning against the wall. There wasn’t so much a bare bulb to give off light. Bruce figured their eyes might have adjusted to the dark, and signaled John to follow as he crept up behind the two goons.

“I dunno, with all the hype surrounding episode four, you just know those guys are going to mess up somewhere. Remember when they decided to let Celestyne drop to his death back in season one?” The one with dreadlocks asked.

“Oh, come on, that was just to test the game’s limits. Besides, Celestyne couldn’t die; I don’t think Jane can, either,” the second person responded in a higher voice with a casual shrug.

“Dude, you know the game’s gonna make her a villain in the end, though, right? She might die…”

Bruce was ready. John was gripping the baton with a widening grin…

“Are you kidding me? They have her affection meter up so high I’m surprised the game doesn’t have a dating opt-”

Bruce slammed dreadlocked goon’s head into the wall just as the baton crashed down on the other goon’s skull, little smears of blood marking the plaster and paint with a satisfying crack.

John clutched the collar of the goon he’d struck, gripping the slightly bloody baton a little harder in his other hand. He seemed to be thinking.

Bruce took a zip-tie out and cuffed the goon’s hands behind their back, and wondered just what John was staring at until he’d turned the person around and caught a glimpse of them in the light of the window.

They were both women with little tattoos of vines creeping along the back of their necks.

If Bruce guessed right, those were ivy leaves on the vine. Poison Ivy had a loyal gang.

John zip-tied the wrists of the woman he’d struck and patted the part of her head that wasn’t wounded. “Sorry,” he whispered as if she would hear it. “Lauren’s ex,” John mumbled, gesturing to the woman on the floor as if he knew Bruce had raised his eyebrow at him.

Bruce simply swept onward, spying the door for the basement. There was a light on in the front room, and three women who looked like they could be professional boxers of different weight categories were sitting in different areas. One was sharpening a knife at the table, and another was cleaning a semi-automatic rifle as the third kept watch over a monitor showing security camera footage; three looked to be by the greenhouses (Bruce recognized the Foxglove variety growing in one under an opening in the glass, sitting next to something that looked primeval), and two were watching over the plants upstairs (marijuana, by the looks of it) and in the basement.

There was a figure in the last screen, working over a row of potted plants with low lamps. A zoom-in with Bruce’s lenses showed long red hair.

Bruce felt a hand on his shoulder, and John crept ahead him, the taser-bomb in hand: it looked like a mass of the sticky-bombs grouped together, colorful wiring connecting them all like some kind of net, and before Bruce could do or say anything, John threw it into the living room, where it tumbled into the middle of the floor.

The group began to shoot out of their seats in a second, and in the next the ball seemed to expand like a geometric toy, the wired tasers being thrown in the air with a flash before smacking people and surfaces alike as they discharged. All three people fell to the floor in trembling heaps, and John dashed out and started to cuff them, Bruce close behind.

The electric bombs were safe to touch now that they had fully discharged, so Bruce had no qualm about stomping on the lightly-burning sections of carpet underneath some of them to prevent any spread of fire as he pushed them aside. The bulkiest goon wasn’t quite down for the count; she was still conscious.

She yanked John off her fallen comrade by his shoulder and threw him into the table’s edge. Bruce threw a Batarang at her arm just as she was about to punch, and John gave a swift knee to her stomach as she flinched.

She fell to the floor with a louder crash and a grunt, pulling the Batarang out from her arm and letting it drop to the floor. “You fucker…” She said, glaring up at John before looking over at Bruce, her eyes widening as he approached with more Batarangs at the ready. “B-Batman…?”

“Yup! He’s real,” John said playfully before smacking the side of her head with the baton. “And so am I,” he added with a growl. He decided to tie her wrists behind the nearest table leg. “I hate not being able to call myself Joker like this… Really sells it better.”

Bruce felt his heart twitch at the name. “You can call yourself that, if it helps,” Bruce said gently, tying the monitoring-station woman’s wrists together, “Just not to people’s faces.”

“Kinda defeats the point,” John grumbled.

Bruce shot a look at the security monitor – Pamela Isley didn’t seem to have heard anything. Still, precaution should be used. “Let’s go,” he said plainly, sweeping out of the room with a swish of his cape.

John tucked a hand into his pocket and followed.

The basement stairs were carpeted and quiet, but Bruce was careful to walk on the outsides rather than the middle. Spiders had clearly made themselves right at home in the damp corners of the walls, and he had to duck to avoid getting the tips of his cowl’s ears stuck in one of their webs. A soft sort of click was heard behind his back, and Bruce figured John had gotten out his grappling gun.

Pamela Isley was bent over a row of exotic-looking orchids posed under heat lamps, dabbing something into the center of a blue orchid’s petals. Bruce saw several troughs full of hallucinogenic mushrooms sitting on the other side of the wall.

“There you go, my darling,” she cooed in a honeyed voice, acting like she was carefully painting the center of the flower, “You’ll soon be the belle of the ball…”

Bruce eyed the electrical box on the other side of the room. It wouldn’t do to drown the place in darkness; he’d be able to see, but John wouldn’t. The best bet was to tackle and restrain her.

Or…

Bruce took out his own grappling gun, and aimed it at Isley’s collar. One click, and it snagged her shirt with practiced ease.

“What the-?!”

Pamela Isley was suddenly dragged yelping through the air at an angle, smacking hard into one of the tables and spilling several unusual potted flowers to the floor.

Bruce grabbed her and threw her to the concrete floor, standing over her with several Batarangs in his hand as John cackled beside him.

“Jonathan Crane,” Bruce growled out, “Where is he?”

Pamela Isley sat up, shock written all over her face as she processed exactly what happened – it quickly morphed to a steely stare. “Batman,” she said slowly in a sweet voice, “I thought you were an urban legend,” she continued, wiping the corner of her mouth where a dribble of blood leaked out. “Do you always treat a lady this way?”

Bruce dragged her up by her collar and threw her against the wall, keeping her at arm’s length. “I know he bought plants from you today. Tell me where he is.”

“Or what?” She taunted, smirking widely at him. “You think I haven’t been knocked around by men before? I’ve been in whole worlds of hurt, honey.”

There was the distinct sound of the grappling wire rushing through the air, and then an enormous crash – John had taken out one of the mushroom tables, the fungi now breaking and bouncing against the floor it the scattered in the dirt.

“Whoopsie,” John hummed, a wide unnerving grin on his face, “butter-fingers.”

Isley looked rather taken aback, but the expression quickly warped into a mocking glare. “You think destroying my inventory is going to intimidate me?”

John shrugged, leaning back against a table and knocking over a several small tropical plants with a slide of his hand, shattering the clay pots and sending the plants scattering to the hard floor.

That definitely got her attention; her face paled slightly and there was tremble in her. “Stop that!”

Bruce glared at her, mentally thanking John for his quick thinking. “Tell me where Crane is and I’ll consider stopping him from tearing this place apart.”

Her dark green eyes glared at him with a slow-boiling dislike. “Let me go first.”

Bruce did a very quick once-over; she didn’t seem to have a gun holster on her, and she was definitely a lighter build than the rest of her gang. Knives were still a possibility. He decided to let go, keeping a Batarang between his fingers just in case as he stepped just out of her reach.

Pamela dusted off her green turtleneck. “I don’t know where he is, and I don’t care. He bought a few of my flowers and left,” she said, crossing her arms.

John laughed, fingering the leaves of the blue orchid she’d been attending. “With a hole in his shoulder? You didn’t even offer a band-aid for that?”

Pamela was closely eyeing the plant in John’s hand. “What if I did?”

“I know he’s a friend of yours, Isley,” Bruce growled. “You’re the only one who could know what he’s planning.”

“I told you, I don’t know,” she stated, “and I don’t care. I’m not his mother.”

“I can see why you were paying such close attention to this one,” John hummed, fingering the petals with a gloved hand. “It’s so pretty. You put a lot of effort into keeping all these, huh?” He grinned at her, almost looking like his usual self. “It’s not just some financial scheme for you, is it?”

“Of course it is,” Pamela stared at him, trying to keep her voice level; Bruce noticed her eyes kept flicking slightly downward, like she was watching the plant. “I breed and sell rare plants to collectors on the side.”

“Oh good! So this won’t bother you!”

In a swift move, John cut the blossom off the stem with the bowie knife one of the group upstairs had been sharpening.

The blossom fell to the table, and Pamela Isley looked as if she’d seen a ghost.

John picked up the blossom. “Let’s see – she’s honest,” he said playfully, plucking a petal from the stem, “she’s not!” He pulled another.

“STOP IT!” Pamela shrieked, making to rush at him – Bruce pulled her back and pointed the tip of the Batarang at her face. She glanced at it fearfully, but then looked back at the flower being torn apart in John’s hand, and it looked like she was watching a child die before her eyes.

“Stop that,” Bruce instructed; John hummed and held it still. “Talk, or my partner and I crush every plant in this place.”

Isley stared at the flower in John’s hand. “I… I don’t know what he’s planning,” she said quietly, her voice cracking slightly. John only touched the tip of a petal before she spoke again – “But-! But I know… He’s building something. He didn’t say what, but he asked for some muscle - I hooked him up with some of Maroni’s old boys.” She shut her eyes and took a breath before glaring at John like he was a complete monster. “I hope the lot of them tears you limb from limb.”

Bruce forced Isley’s hands behind her back and zip-tied them. “Down on the ground,” he growled, pushing down on the top of her head. John pointed the grappling gun in her face with a smirk; a good insurance if she decided to try and elbow Bruce in the face.

Pamela shot them both a hateful glare as she knelt down, and it didn’t waver as her ankles were tied, too. “I won’t forget this,” she spat.

Bruce sent off a message to Tiffany regarding the coordinates of “Poison Ivy”’s headquarters from his gauntlet. He knew she’d get the word out before he could even get back in the car. “Tell it to the judge,” he taunted, leading the way out of the basement, not missing the sparkle in John’s eyes as he followed, the severed, torn orchid blossom having been carelessly thrown at Pamela Isley’s feet.

John gathered up the sticky bomb device before they hustled back to the Batmobile, and it wasn’t until the doors closed that he spoke, and when he did it was in a tone Bruce would almost call revered.

“So, what do we do now, partner?” He asked, a definite glow on his face.

“We go look at some of the Maroni gang’s old haunts and see if we can find anyone recently hired,” Bruce said, the voice modifier in his cowl now disabled. He glanced at his recent text messages: one from Tiffany giving the ok on Poison Ivy, and another from Iman with the last known location of the stolen Ryde car. “After we look into the motels in the red-light district. Crane might’ve stayed there.”

John laughed to himself, but for once he didn’t share the joke; instead, he pulled out a packet of jerky from the plastic bag he’d brought along. “I knew this would be a long night,” he said cheerfully, as if he was really looking forward to the whole thing.

It was well past one in the morning when Bruce arrived back home through the front gate, the Batsuit stowed away and the plates flipped back to red. The two patrol officers were only somewhat surprised to see him arrive back. Naturally, they reported nothing new, since John had been dropped off in the Batcave first.

Sore muscles were nothing new to Bruce. The old strained climb back up to his bed was just as annoying as ever. He honestly didn’t feel like he wanted to sleep, but after following several empty leads over the city and bruising a few heads alongside John, he did admit that he was physically exhausted. He knew lying down was better than nothing, and he still had to go to work in several hours like he didn’t have a double life. At least he wasn't starving, thanks to John thinking ahead and buying him protein-and-carb-filled snacks.

He forced himself to go through his usual nightly routine, despite the temptation to just flop into bed and lay there. He looked at the bruises on his back and ribs from where John had struggled against him under the influence of Crane’s drug, and decided not to bother putting the bruise-away cream on them, nor on the new ones forming on his shoulder from where one of the former mobsters had hit him.

When he did finally collapse onto the master bed in nothing but his boxer-briefs, his brain still decided to chat away at him.

There were no leads as to who exactly Isley had hired for Crane. Bruce cursed himself for not trying to work the specifics out of her. At least he knew she was arrested for drug possession and manufacturing, as well as smuggling illegal fauna.

There was no word on the whereabouts of Jackie Lant. Her car was missing, and she’d called into work sick. Her apartment hadn’t been visited in the entire time Bruce had his drone’s eye on it, and neither Tiffany nor Iman had seen anything when they looked into Jackie’s friends’ places, either. All Bruce knew was that she hadn’t called an ambulance to fetch her from Toxic Acres, that she hadn’t been admitted to a hospital, and that there was no sign of her body either in the Acres or in the Gotham River.

She was alive, somewhere, and Bruce didn’t know what she was going to do next. He hoped she was just going to lie low until he caught Crane.

Jonathan Crane was nowhere to be found. His house was still empty. He didn’t seem to be staying at any of the motels – or hotels – around the red-light district or its surrounding streets, and nothing had come of a quick credit-card check. The Ryde driver the GCPD fished out of the River that morning had been shot in the head, and his car was so common that if Crane could’ve switched the license plate with anything and been completely invisible. They’d done a quick search of the warehouse district and found no sign of him there, either.

Bruce had the nagging feeling that he wasn’t going to find Crane until the doctor reared his head.

The billionaire rolled onto his stomach, shoving the anxious thought away as he pressed his cheek further into the plush black jersey pillowcase. There were a couple more places he could check tomorrow…

The bedroom door creaked, and Bruce’s eyes shot open, a second away from grabbing the billy-club under his pillow – he could see John’s messy hair in his dark silhouette.

“Bruce? You awake?”

“Yeah,” he mumbled.

“…can I come in?”

“Sure.”

Bruce noticed he closed the door behind him. Like he was planning to stay there.

That definitely put a new light onto the situation. A tense thrill was building in his shoulders as John deigned to sit on the edge of the mattress, his back to Bruce.

John was only wearing his Arkham-regulated pants, and the pale white of his bare skin almost shone in the light streaming in from the window. Bruce saw several bruises forming, one of which was from where he’d gotten grabbed by the shoulder by a Poison Ivy goon, and several more where he’d gotten knocked into.

“…I don’t think I can sleep in that guest room,” John sighed. “I mean, I tried my usual methods of sleep induction, but… It’s too big…and empty. I’m really not used to that.” His voice came out quieter and more contemplative. “I know it’s weird, but do you mind if I sleep in here?” He asked, turning halfway to look right at Bruce.

He felt trapped. If he said no, at the worst John would sulk, and at the best John wouldn’t get any sleep, and that was definitely worse for his mental health. John had mentioned before about how regular sleep cycles were supposed to help with that.

If he said yes, though, he’d know he was sleeping next to John, and there was the tiny worry in the back of his head that John might…try something. Or at least roll over too much.

“I promise I’ll stay over on my side,” John muttered, not tearing his eyes away.

“Alright.”

A sweet smile stretched on his face. “Thanks, Bruce. You won’t regret this.”

“If you keep talking, I might.”

John giggled as he slid beneath the covers on the far side of the bed, flopping one of the extra pillows down between them. “There – a no-roll barrier,” he said as if he had to explain the concept to Bruce.

It did not escape Bruce’s attention that John had decided to lie facing him and rest his arm on top of the pillow. John had pulled the covers up to just underneath his armpits; Bruce could see John's sharp collarbone and the lean wiry muscle of his chest. (Bruce made sure not to look for more than a moment's curiosity would allow.)

God, John’s face was actually his for the first time that whole night. Bruce had gotten used to seeing it in the natural makeup, but it was almost a relief to see it in its normal borderline-luminescent white. He looked like the man Bruce knew.

Acid-green eyes stared at him, flicking slightly and growing soft. “I…did want to talk to you about something, though. If it’s okay.”

“I suppose I’m still awake,” Bruce said in an attempt to lighten the tension in his arms. “Sure.”

“Do you ever…look back on something, and think about the worst thing that could’ve happened in that situation?”

He didn’t like to admit it, but he had. Usually in his worst moods, he’d think about how everything could’ve gone wrong. He’d usually think about everything he could’ve done better, too. “I try not to, but…sometimes, yeah.”

“I’ve been thinking about our fight a lot, lately,” John confessed, “At Ace. I used to think about it a lot when I got recommitted, but… You started visiting me,” he said softly, a light smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. “You remember when I told you I thought I’d messed things up for us?”

“Yeah.” It was Bruce’s first visit to John. He never forgot the sheer hopeful joy on John’s face upon seeing him. It was practically engraved in his memory.

“Ever since I started sessions with Crane, I kept going back to that night. He always tried to weasel my worst secrets out of me,” he said with a low scowl, “but when he started using that…toxin on me… I kept…thinking about what could have happened back there. I… I know I almost killed you.”

The sheer pain reading in John’s eyes was enough to make Bruce want to wrap his arms around him. It was beautiful and raw and honest, and Bruce found himself holding stock still, almost captivated by the expression.

“I kept seeing it. Over and over – it was like I could see myself throwing you over the railing or-or stabbing you, or...” Bruce saw tears welling up as John clenched the pillow between them. “I don’t want to come close to that again, Bruce,” he managed to say, his voice starting to hitch. “I don’t… I don’t want to kill you.”

Bruce threw his pride away and grabbed John’s hand in his. “You won’t.”

“You…you don’t know that,” John said with a light sob. “If…if I…go back to how I was… If I mess up...”

Bruce squeezed his hand, feeling the soft skin twitch under his fingertips. “I won’t pretend you’re perfect,” he said, honesty seeping through every word, “but I know you, John. I know you’re not going after Crane out of revenge, like you did with Waller. You reached out to me for help – but you were already trying to find a way to stop him without resorting to just stabbing him with the nearest shiv.”

John sniffed, a tiny twitch at the corner of his mouth like he was almost smiling. “Yeah…”

“So you’re not the same person you were then, are you?” He soothed with a supportive smile. “Even if you feel you are going backward, I know it won’t be to that same point.”

“Maybe…” he said with another sniff, looking more serious. “But Bruce, you know there are things I can’t ever really stop, right? The auditory psychosis is pretty much going to stay with me the rest of my life,” he started, clutching Bruce’s hand back, “and I’m not going to lie here and pretend my pulse wasn’t pounding a mile a minute when we were fighting those mobsters out there.” He sported a small knowing grin at him. “You know what that’s like, though, don’t you…”

(Yes, he did.)

“…you know what’s funny? I used to think one bad day could turn a person completely upside down.” John managed to stroke his thumb against Bruce’s knuckle, sending a little shiver over the skin, and Bruce wondered if John knew how incredibly intimate that gesture felt as he stared softly at him from the pillow. “Especially after Waller came to town… But…I never really thought things could go back up after it. I guess it just…takes a while.”

Bruce knew there was something right in John’s line of thinking. It only took one day to turn his life on its head, and he felt he knew, despite John having no memory of his life before Arkham, that something similar had happened to him. “Well…they say time heals all wounds.”

“How much passed before yours started to heal?”

He almost didn’t want to answer. The truth was that he wasn’t sure at all if he was ever going to fully heal, despite knowing what his parent’s really were. Maybe it was because he knew the terrible truth about them that they wouldn’t ever heal right. Maybe he’d always have that miserable note in the background of his life.

“…I’m still healing.”

“I didn’t say you stopped, buddy,” John chuckled with a knowing look. “Still…got good days and bad days, huh?”

“Feels like it, yeah.” Today…was definitely more of a mixed day. Looking at John across from him, though, all honest and open, and thinking back to how it felt to fight alongside him again, and investigate with him, with that warmth and instant familiar comfort between that never faded away, he almost felt like he wanted to call it a good day. “Today might have tilted things right-side up.”

John laughed, a genuine, humored one that was almost infectious. “Now I know I’m rubbing off on you; that sounds like something I’d say!”

John slipped his hand away and turned to lie on his back, still chuckling to himself. The warmth still burned in Bruce’s palm, and he found himself reluctant to pull his hand away at all.

John turned to him once more, an all-too-familiar affection shimmering brightly in the green depths. It pulled Bruce in and made him feel like he should inch close enough to feel the warmth and security it promised. “’Night, Bruce.”

“Goodnight, John.”

John turned over, leaving Bruce to stare at the bruises forming on his shoulders. There was the terrible temptation in his hands to shove the pillow between them aside and wrap his arm around the man’s middle so he could lean into that pale, battered back and bury his face in a head of soft, green hair.

There was a worse urge, one so vivid it almost made Bruce’s head spin – he could just reach out and touch the bruises, feather-light, and trail his fingertips down the curve of spine until it arched with a pleased shudder, and Bruce could follow that trail with his mouth as far as John would let him.

Bruce turned his head away, the memory of John’s lips on his coming to the front of his mind, and he shut out the mental image of repeating that kiss right then and there, telling himself that he really shouldn’t feel that way towards someone who desperately needed support, nor to his best friend who he’d left scarred in more ways than one, and certainly not someone who was both.

It had been a long time since Bruce shared a bed with someone, and far, far longer when he shared one with someone he didn’t have sex with.

He hoped that was all it was. Just the bed’s memory getting to him, and nothing else…

Notes: Super-sexy-plant-person-in-her-late-twenties Ivy is OUT. Cougar-aged-mobster-botanist Ivy is IN! >:)

I really wanted a different Ivy. I’m tired of the young, uber-sexy walking plant-human-hybrid that’s immune to all toxins and diseases; plants get diseases, too, and she’s so plant-like she should have some kind of physical humanizing weakness! It’s much more interesting to have a human who’s just built up an immunity and uses her babies for weapons and business; I kept her serious environmentalist trait, though, because while I dislike the anti-hero thing she’s got going on lately and would love to see her as a straight-up villain again, we do have to relate to her somehow, and her love of nature is always going to be a good part of her. Since Harley’s older, too, I figured it would be alright if they had a ten-year gap between them, so when Pam eventually goes to Black Gate one day, they’ll be pals. ;)

And Bruce you complete fool!!!! You should’ve kissed him!!! Why do you do this to yourseellllfff? D:

I'm sorry it took so long, but as you can tell, I had a lot to work on, and I’m doing my best to write the next chapter as quickly as I can while this nutty energy in my brain is still fresh. I’m trying to keep with my weekly schedule, but I hope you guys are okay with having a gap day, as appears to be the habit now. ( ._. ) I mean, no one yells at me or anything for being late, but I aim to please with my work, and part of that is being consistent.

I shall continue to try my hardest! (*｀へ´*) 彡3 See you next weekend!!!

#batjokes #telltale batjokes #juce #atbom #at the brink of midnight #fordarkisthesuede writes #I had a lot of fun coming up with a different ivy!#i like the idea that she heads her own gang despite being rather anti-people #like she doesn't even consider them when the JUCE force shows up #then again goons are rather expendable in the batman universes aren't they?#i can't believe i worked in a nod to TFS's playthroughs of TT bats #i still laugh when i rewatch the first season and they just let Selina drop #all because they were curious to see what would happen #so will ivy's info have an impact on future events?#only time will tell.........#also i'm serious about those writer vibes #i'm sending 'em all out #you'll all do great this week i can feel it #p.s. the ao3 chapters are already edited properly so i'll fix the tumblr ones asap

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actuallylorelaigilmore · 7 years

Text

the ultimate citation list for Schneider of ODAAT, volume 1

A reference collection of quotes and details, organized chronologically, for the first 26 episodes of One Day At A Time. Used to create this character guide.

“Can you believe it's only been 10 months since you moved in? I remember 'cause I got my five year sober chip and your mom baked me that cake. I enjoyed watching you guys eat it." 1x01

"You're 40 and you look stupid." “I'll have you know, I was invited to several Pride parades." 1x01

Uses a “very expensive” Damascus steel hammer. 1x01

"I've been doing some outreach down at the rec center, talking to at-risk youth. You guys wanna start takin' bets? Actually, scratch that. I'm addicted to gambling.” 1x01

"Love isn't even real. It's just something your nanny says sometimes to your dad." 1x02

"Hey, I may have money in the bank and two living parents, and four living stepmothers but there is a hole in here. We never had family meals. I ate alone in front of the TV. Oh, don't get me wrong. It was a massive TV. Sometimes my nanny would join me, but only if I agreed to watch telenovelas. This one time, Rosa got jealous of the housekeeper 'cause she was makin' a move on her man, so she threatened to throw live scorpions on her while she slept. Rosa was my nanny. Ex-nanny. Now, stepmother." 1x03

[Lydia and Pen fighting] “It's startin' to feel kinda like home in here.” 1x03

Schneider cooks fancy hipster food. "Nutted quinoa, wilted broccolini with radish micro-greens, and venison carpaccio on a bed of nettles. Grab a cedar plank and dig in." 1x04

"Always interesting to be the sober one at a dinner party." 1x05

"I immigrated here illegally. I'm a Canadian. But yeah, born in the 'Couve, overstayed my student visa, forced to live in the shadows of Pepperdine University. Anyway, it's fine now. My lawyers made it all okay." 1x05

Uses sheet masks, knows about chauffeurs, butlers, estates. 1x06

“The kids barely touched my black olive tapenade.” “Thanks for helping out, but maybe next time pick a food a kid would wanna eat or has heard of.” “Yeah, and maybe next time, don't hand out masks with my face on them.” 1x07

"The members of my college band have finally put aside our differences and we're reuniting to play at the fair this afternoon. My band, Full Sail, plays yacht rock. These guys were like family. I used to show up at their dorm rooms unannounced and just hang out for hours and hours and hours." 1x07

"We were setting up for the show and our keytarist threw a decorative anchor at me. This is why Full Sail broke up in the first place. Too many passionate personalities." 1x07

Has a magnifying glass in his costume trunk. 1x07

"I know nothing about my grandparents and I never will. And they live in Pasadena!" (but he goes to 'the depot' in Pasadena) 1x09

"I have never seen such un-professionalism. This is why I don't work!" 1x09

"I need to find a new place to get my eyebrows threaded." 1x10

Has a safe. 1x10

"Well, Father believed it's best to have this kinda discussion in a car because you don't have to make eye contact. Plus, you're traveling in the same direction, which fosters intimacy. So we're in the Bentley with our chauffeur, Paco. Father said it's time to have the talk. We came to the next stoplight. He hopped out, Paco told me everything." 1x10

"I didn't get the period talk till I was 12. Paco just called it 'Shark Week.'" 1x10

"When I was a kid, there was an adult section in the back of the video store. Behind the beads. I'd always chicken out and just rent a Jane Fonda workout tape. Still worked. Still works." 1x10

"You'd be surprised how many of my hookups started with 'Ugh!' ...When I was 15, I told Father I wanted to be a professional tap dancer. He laughed. It was that lack of support that contributed to my drinking and drug problem. Oh, do you find that amusing? Because 15-year-old Schneider's drinking peach schnapps out of an unused tap shoe right now." 1x11

"You have a girl over here and you were offering to have sex with me?" - "Yes, Penelope. That's the kind of friend I am." 1x11

"My dad never came to my games. All he ever did was put me through rehab six times and buy me this building." 2x01

"Maroon 5 is the best." 2x01

"Okay, I decided to take a break from dating. See, I realized that women were just another one of my addictions, like alcohol, drugs, gambling, cigarettes, snow globes. The point is, I've broken the cycle of addiction with spinning. Five hours a day, every single day. I have to do it! Plus, it's the perfect substitute for dating, 'cause it burns a lot of energy and also numbs my junk!" 2x02

“Snow globes? Is this one of our family?” 2x02

"I come over, tell him to do stuff to me, he does it, I go home. You should get one." "I think what Nikki was kinda dancing around is that you don't always have to have a relationship with a capital "R." Sometimes all you need is what the great poets of the Renaissance called a junk buddy." "Exactly. You don't even have to like them." 2x03

"See, the great thing about having a green card is you get to live here without having to do all the stuff Americans have to, like vote or serve jury duty or become obese."

"Okay, but at least you vote in Canadian elections." "Mmm. No. Even in Canada, nothing ever changes. Clean air, sensible gun control, free health care. The system's rigged." 2x04

Can picture himself “doing it” with Elizabeth Warren, was Stephen Hawking for Halloween. 2x04

"You have to pay taxes with a green card? I just texted my accountant, and he said 'cause I'm in the highest income bracket, I don't have to pay taxes." 2x04

Keeps on hand: panic room, gas mask, water purification pills, MREs, enough cash to get to Cape Verde by boat. Followed Max on Instagram. Would be honored to be Penelope's maid of honor. 2x05

"I'm very patriotic. Look in that basket. There's a bald eagle thong." 2x06

All Elena's video game equipment belongs to him. 2x06

"Penelope, tell my third stepmother I loved her! Not the second one, though. She was kind of a jerk." 2x06

"Hummer limo's downstairs. My third stepmother used to take me to the racetrack to spy on Father. For the longest time, I thought she was saying, 'Your father is with Rebecca, that horse!' It's like I'm back at the racetrack with my stepmom. What's next? Throw a mint julep in his face?” 2x07

"I love Cuba! I've been there four times. Property manager, job's just temporary. My father owns the building. I'm really a musician. Play a lot of rap-rock-ska. I'm like a male Gwen Stefani. When you're hiring a nanny, make sure she's not too hot. That's how I met my fifth mom. I had four nannies and look at the results." 2x08

Did not speak a word of Spanish when he first met them, is interested in single moms. 2x08

"If you joined an adult kickball team after saying you were too busy to join mine, you are on a long road to forgiveness." 2x09

"Your idea of stress is when your chest-waxer goes out of town." "Roberto is the only one who doesn't make it sting!" 2x09

"I shouldn't have to need these either, but I do. To see. So it's Fourth of July, 2011. I'd been sober for a while, so I thought I'd celebrate with a beer. Woke up three days later in an alley. Then the bowling ball hit me. I was in the gutter for a long time. It's really slippery without the shoes. That was the day I truly accepted that I can't have alcohol or drugs, ever. Not a beer, not a glass of wine, not even six hits of acid at a Grateful Dead show, no matter how well it makes me dance. I kinda get where you're coming from. There's something I want that I can't have for the rest of my life." 2x09

He and Pen are best friends. Also considers Max his bestie. Wants to Netflix and chill with them both, together. 2x09

"My abuelita used to put Vicodin in her coffee. And her lemonade and her sandwiches. Maybe she had a problem. As my father said to me on my ninth birthday, 'You don't need me anymore.' I use my garage for pickling and sea horse breeding." 2x10

Loves puns. "This is Elena Alvarez, my handyman mentee. Or handy-manatee." "The toilet is a cruel mistress. She is flush with complications." 2x10

"Herb and Sherb McGurb. Her real name is Sheryl, but she gets a kick out of Sherb." 2x10

"Bonsai's for dorks. This is penjing. The gentle Chinese art of tray scenery. Now that you're working for me, I finally have some leisure time." "Oh, look, there's little people. Wait, is that my family?" "Could be any Cuban family." 2x10

"I may only look two or three years older than you, but I have the wisdom of that ancient bonsai!" 2x10

"Always take the lemonade. That's Handyman 101! So you watched Jeopardy with them and then what? Well, now we know what your problem is! You fixed their toilet, but you didn't fix their souls. Elena, growing up, I had everything. But I was always alone. I don't want my tenants to feel that way, so I do more than just fix stuff. Apartment 306, macrame with Mrs. Watson. 201, lose at chess to Mr. Roth. 402, listen to all their Cuban nonsense. That's the job. That's what takes four hours. That's the difference between being a handyman and a super." 2x10

Has heard 'you're fired' a lot. 2x10

"After a grueling 30 minutes of thought, Nikki, will you be my starter wife? You're on the rebound. That's the best time to get married. You don't have time to think. So you were never thinking about me? My emotions? My feelings? You used me, Nikki, Finn's mom! And not in the way I like! And that's not all, Sister Barbara. We knew each other. Biblically. And while we were doing it, she took the Lord's name in vain. A lot!" 2x11

"Last night, I was testing the pH of the water in my seahorse ranch and, as I looked at those vomiting little guys, I realized I suck at tests. All tests. Drug, sobriety, vision, IQ, smog. You name it, I fail it!" 2x12

"Have you ever been arrested?” “Does public nudity at a hockey game count?” “There is, uh, no mention of a public nudity charge in your file.” “Oh, you just go to YouTube and type in 'Zam-boner.'" 2x12

"Yeah, they didn't specifically ask if I got drunk and tried to ride a moose, so after that I was golden." 2x12

"How important is having kids to you?" "Never really thought about it." 2x12

"I'll have you know I babysat my babysitter's kids while she was babysitting my dad, so, yeah, I got a little experience under my belt. Oh, it's my cousin Gordy. He still thinks I'm full-on Canadian. All right, good news is Gordo bought it. Bad news is I'm judging a poutine festival in Saskatoon next week." 2x12

"You're the single greatest mother I know." "Thank you. That means a lot coming from a guy with five moms." 2x12

"Fuzzy Afghan she likes, picture of the Pope, picture of a different Pope, picture of your dad, picture of the family, picture of me with the family, picture of me by a waterfall. I'm just gonna keep talking 'cause I'm not good in crisis situations." 2x13

"It's so crazy how we're both immigrants. I mean, I would never compare my story to yours, but the parallels are spooky. You were 18, I was 18. You left your family behind. I left four step-families, a maid, a butler, a chauffeur, and a horse groomer who really got me. But Father was expanding his business to the US and so I had to go. I remember, at the airport, I was crying. But Father put his arm around me and he said, 'Son, only losers cry.' So that was a long flight. You don't know how dirty a dirty look can get until you're crying for a whole plane ride and you're not a baby. I really didn't wanna be in America. So I drank. And I recreated the snowy plains of Canada with cocaine. I'm told I attended classes at Pepperdine University, but I will have to take that on faith. So, I'm in a detox center in El Segundo. This was my fourth rehab. My re-re-re-rehab. I thought I'd been doing a kickass job keeping my drug stuff a secret from all the tenants and then you showed up in my room at that clinic. You brought me sopa de pollo and said it's Cuban penicillin. You told me, 'You eat this, you get some sleep, and tomorrow, you try again.' And then you tucked me in and kissed me good night on my forehead. Forehead kisses are wildly underrated. Just something really comforting about 'em. Then again, it might just be you. Dad never did that. Or my horse groomer. After I got out of rehab, I started hanging around your apartment a lot more, 'cause it helped. Back then, it must have felt like you had this annoying, intrusive guy over. Not like now. 'Cause now you're my family. Don't worry. I haven't legally changed my last name to Alvarez. My lawyer said it was a whole thing, so... Anyway, Pen said no crying, so I'm not gonna. Actually, for once, I agree with Father. Only losers cry. And we're not losing anybody today. Let's hit that oath ceremony soon, okay?" 2x13

#schneider #reference #odaat #one day at a time

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