#but remembering is darker past is. oh yeah. right. you was a bad dude huh

[ex-textura]

Any headcanons for Ciaran's time in the cult(s)?

and/or

How has Ciaran changed now that he has his freedom? 💜

SO MANY. So many. You know there's gonna be a cut, you know me. It's been a while and there be rambling ahead.

Also uh...Canon typical durge grossness ahead.

The Ciaran from before (before Orin's attack, before the worm) was such a different person. It took some time for Sceleritas to break him down when the urge had first awakened and he fought then much as he fought after waking on the nautiloid but little Ciaran didn't have friends and loved ones who supported him to keep him fighting like this new Ciaran did. He'd already killed them all. So eventually he broke down to the dreams and the horrors and once the fighting stopped and the walls came down a whole new monster was born.

Ciaran Finch (he named himself that. Can't remember the name his adoptive parents used so long ago. Dark Little Songbird, for the way he made his victims sing) loved the cult, he loved the murder, he loved the blood and the screams and the power. He loved the way people cowered at his feet and the way they prayed to him, for power, for forgiveness, for death.

He was also a flirt, but in the worst ways. He knew what he looked like, was in fact incredibly vain, knew he could take what he wanted but he found pleasure in letting people think they had a choice (if they said yes, he'd sleep with them then kill them. If they said no...the reverse). He was...truly awful.

Sometimes Bhaal's hold on him would weaken and he'd find himself scared, or feeling compassion. Once or twice he'd let someone go without hurting them and could never understand why. Of course he'd be punished for it after and Scleritas would have to scold him and set him back on the 'right path', but those instances were rare.

He was sleeping with Gortash. He liked to dominate the little tyrant. He'd hurt him and laugh when he came back for more. He didn't love him, but he was interested in him and that was the closest anyone had ever gotten. So he kept him around.

Scleritas came to him about 60 years ago. It only took a couple of years to really break him. He'd been fully indoctrinated ever since. There were a great many years of brutal murder in between meeting Scleritas and meeting the tadpole gang.

---

Ciaran now... is different. Not just from the monster he was, but even from the broken man he'd become. He's almost childlike now, in his wonder, and the way he's exploring his world as though he'd never seen it before. He sleeps. He sleeps SO MUCH. And he snores. And drools. Any opportunity he can get to curl up somewhere soft, he does. If it's with his head on Gale's lap, all the better. He's started drinking with the others now, too. He'd held off on anything that might put him to sleep or impair his ability to fight the voice but once it was gone and he was free from the burden, he's let himself loose. He doesn't drink much, certainly not to excess, but he also has next to no tolerance anymore so it doesn't take much to give him that warm, giddy feeling.

He finds he likes wine, but he prefers the lighter varieties. Ale makes him gassy, and disturbs his sleep so he avoids that.

He talks more, now. His chattiness from his old days is starting to come back to him but now rather than boasting and taunting he just...rambles. He makes dorky jokes that only he laughs awkwardly at. He gives compliments freely and hugs openly. He's still shy though, its all so new. So when he catches himself going on a tangent he blushes and shuts himself up, or deflects to take the focus off himself (still doesn't like being the center of attention. That's something he hasn't gotten back from his old days and probably never will).

Mostly, though, I think the biggest change is...he's happy. Sure the world might be ending and it's still his fault and it's still his responsibility to fix it but Gale is there, their rift mended. He's got his best friends at his side. People love him and he loves them. They have a dog and a cat and an owlbear and a HAMSTER! And his dreams are sweet. and his heart is full. He's just. Happy.

[dilly-oh]

Sleep With Me

Kakashi is woken up from a dead sleep at three in the morning by an urgent text from Genma. 

EMERGENCY!!, it says. He quickly sits up, a spike of panic shocking him fully awake as he’s dosed with adrenaline. He stares at his phone, anxiously waiting for the flashing dots to spell out: WE NEED CONDOMS, STAT!

Fucking Genma. He lies back down. 

Another text. YOU OWE ME FOR WATCHING THE DOGS.

...Fucking Genma. Kakashi gets up.

GET A BOX OF CONDOMS, Genma adds as Kakashi tugs on his boots. He shudders at the reasoning behind it. What the hell were he and Raido up to at three in the fucking morning, a sex marathon? Were they trying for the world record? Whatever, he just needs to stumble down the street to one of the nearby convenience stores and buy a box of condoms. Genma lives a few floors down so he can drop them off at the door before crawling back up the stairs and collapsing into his bed. His wonderfully soft, cozy bed.

He hopes it’ll still be warm by the time he gets back. 

It’s way past midnight and all the respectable convenience stores are closed, so Kakashi has to bite the bullet and settle on the least-skuzzy of all the skuzzy 24-hour shops, the one on the corner with the cracked window and perpetual smell of urine. There’s a hobo by the dumpster outside, but he’s busy arguing with a pigeon so Kakashi is able to sidle around him and approach the front entrance, a bell tinkling rather sadly above his head. The hum of the fluorescent lights should be added to the list of known torture methods, and Kakashi does his best to ignore the incessant buzz as he walks along the poorly-lit aisles, trying to find the item in question so he can leave before he catches something.

The condom section of this store is disturbingly well-stocked, and Kakashi spends a good five minutes uncertain on which brand and variety to buy. He has an internal debate on whether to buy ‘ribbed’ or ‘studded’, unsure of the difference or which Raido would prefer. He finally settles on one of the flavored variety, cherry, because who doesn’t like cherries, right? He grabs the box and heads to the front.

Standing in line with the other half-awake zombies, Kakashi yawns, his jaw creaking spectacularly. It really is late and he’s looking forward to kicking down Genma’s door, whipping the box of condoms at him, turning his phone off, and going the fuck back to sleep. He peeks impatiently over the shoulder of the man in front of him to see how close he is to the register-

Oh. God. Oh GOD.

The cashier is hot. He’s smoking hot and Kakashi hasn’t brushed his hair all day and has bad breath and bags under his eyes and a box of condoms in his hands.

OH GOD.

Long, luscious hair pulled back into a low ponytail, dark eyes with even darker lashes, and that TAN. Is it natural? Is he that toasty…all over? Fuck, he can see muscles flexing beneath his shirt when he moves, he’s fucking ripped. Abort. ABORT. There is absolutely no way Kakashi is going to greet this ethereal being of his wicked fantasies with a box of fucking condoms in his hands. But it’s already too late, the customer in front has been dealt with and the hot cashier has spotted him next in line and is waving him over, fuck, SHIT, he’s screwed. He’s made eye contact, there’s no backing out of this now. Fight or flight instincts take over, and Kakashi isn’t about to be arrested for stealing a box of condoms. Taking a deep breath, he strides forward with all the confidence he can muster and slaps the box of jumbo-sized, cherry-flavored condoms onto the counter, refusing to show any hint of shame.

The cashier (his name-tag reads ‘Iruka’ and is a million times hotter up close) looks down at the box, blinks, and looks back up at him.

“…So who are you buying these for?”

Kakashi’s brain shorts out for a moment.

Did he just… He wonders, his sleep-deprived brain slow in catching the veiled insult. Aloud, he answers, “I…they…they’re…for me. To wear when I- you know. With...you know.” He trails off lamely, wondering if he should attempt to elaborate more or just die right here.

“I’d rather not, actually.” ‘Iruka’ eyes him for another beat, then picks up the box, frowning at it. “You know, I’m pretty sure we have extra small on the shelf back there, too,” he suggests. “Might be a snugger fit.”

“No, thank you,” Kakashi replies, struggling to maintain a modicum of politeness. Because, you know, hot cashier. Though he is being a bit of a dick.

“Alright, just remember there’s a thirty-day return policy. I’m sure you’ll be needing it.”

Okay, scratch that. He’s being a huge dick.

If this guy wasn’t such a fox I’d pop him one, Kakashi thinks to himself, fuming inwardly. …Instead of popping one-

Finally moving on, Iruka swipes the box over the scanner with no reaction.

“Huh.” He frowns and tries again. Still no beep. “That’s funny. Just a sec.” He leans over towards a small, black object-

Oh God. Please no.

“PRICE CHECK ON THE JUMBO-SIZED CONDOMS,” Iruka says into the microphone, his distorted voice blaring through the store for all to hear. “CHERRY FLAVORED-”

Kakashi lunges forward and grabs the mic, the feed cutting off with a high-pitched squeal.

“Do you really have to-” he hisses out.

“If you want your cough-syrup flavored DICK, YES,” Iruka hisses back, yanking the microphone away from him.

“Hey, I like cherry!”

“Cherry is disgusting. Your opinion doesn’t matter.”

“Okay, dude, you’re being really rude to me for no reason-”

“No reason?!” The cashier all but bares his teeth at him. “I could feel you eyeing me from across the store! Don’t you think I get enough of that from the rest of the creeps?”

...He has a point there. 

“Look, I’m sorry, it’s not like I asked for your number-”

“Good, because the only numbers you’re getting from me is on your receipt,” Iruka snaps, shoving his purchase in a plastic bag. “That’ll be $19.86.”

“Okay, fine, Christ,” Kakashi takes out a twenty and whips it at his head. “Keep the change.” He snatches up the condoms and storms out of the store. The hobo is still there by the dumpster, babbling on. Kakashi stops, fishes in his pocket for a moment, and hands the man a five.

“Here, have a better night than me,” he bites out. The hobo gasps with delight as he takes the crumpled bill, eyes going wide.

“We feast tonight, Fitzgerald!” he cackles, grinning at the pigeon, which is now perched on his knee and cooing.

Kakashi starts down the street, the bag of condoms bumping against his knee with every angry stride.

“Hey!” A voice barks out from behind him, but he ignores it, intent on sulking. “Hey, you! Cherry dick!” Kakashi stops and looks back.

The hot cashier is running down the road after him, breath steaming in the night. He catches up, panting lightly, his cheeks flushed from the cold as much as the run. He glances up to meet Kakashi’s gaze. 

“…Hey,” Iruka says quietly, flashing him an apologetic look before dropping his eyes to the ground. “Um.” He fiddles with the zipper on his jacket for a moment. “I just got off, and… look, man, I’m sorry about back there. I didn’t mean to be such an asshole. It’s just…I was late this morning cuz my car wouldn’t start, and then my stupid co-worker ditched me so I had to work a double shift, and when I’m tired I get bitchy. Like...real bitchy. I’m...really sorry.” He groans in exhaustion, reaching up to free his hair from its constricting ponytail, scrubbing his scalp with relief. It’s an endearing action that cools Kakashi’s irritation and heats up other things. “I mean, it’s past midnight, for God’s sake. Who’s still up at this hour? I just wanna go home and pass the fuck out in bed.”

Kakashi knows exactly what that’s like.

“I’ve been there,” he says. “It’s fine. Sorry for...ogling you.”

“S’okay.” Iruka looks up at him, hopeful and shy. “Listen. Maybe we could…try this again? During the daytime, when we’re both fully rested?”

“Sounds like a great idea,” Kakashi replies, his voice completely calm while his brain is a litany of high-pitched screeches.

“Yeah?” Iruka’s whole face lights up, and holy FUCK he’s a billion times hotter when he’s smiling. Dear God. How is he going to survive this? He'll probably die when he sees him in the light of day. “Are you free tomorrow? For lunch?”

“Make it a late lunch,” Kakashi agrees, nodding. “I’ll probably sleep in.”

“God, me too,” Iruka snorts, and even that’s hot. “There’s this nice cafe that- oh, wait.” His face drops. “Those, um, cough-syrup- I mean, cherry-flavored condoms…are they for… anyone special?”

Anyone special? What is he talking abo- Oh. Ohhhh.

“They aren’t for me,” Kakashi explains quickly. “I was...there isn’t…I’m not…” He shrugs helplessly. “I’m just doing a favor for a friend.”

“...A friend who needs a box of condoms at three in the morning?”

“Don’t ask.”

“I won’t.” Iruka lets out a long sigh and rubs his eyes wearily. “Anyway, I need to be heading home. Ugh, it’s gonna take, like, an hour to walk back to my apartment, none of the buses run this late and I don’t have the cash for a cab. Maybe if I hurry I can-”

“Sleep with me,” Kakashi blurts out before he can stop himself. He can almost see Iruka’s hackles go up. “I mean, like, actual sleeping, no sex stuff. Not that I wouldn’t want to do that with you, you’re fucking gorgeous, it’s just I’m way too tired-” He cuts off his babbling, unsettled by Iruka’s stoney silence. “I’m just saying I live, like, five minutes away and I thought since it’s closer, maybe you’d appreciate-” Iruka’s still not talking. He’s probably about to kick Kakashi in the dick and run. “I, uh, promise I’m not an ax murderer or anything. You can take a pic of me and send it to your friends to let them know you’re sleeping with me-”

“I’m sure they won’t at all take that the wrong way,” Iruka states, finally speaking. He studies Kakashi for a moment longer. “...Yeah okay I’ll sleep with you. My standards are low enough right now.” He pauses to snicker. “Look at me, sleeping with a guy whose name I don’t even know. It’s like college all over again.”

“Oh, sorry. I’m Kakashi.”

“Iruka.”

“I know, I saw your name-tag. So, wait. You’re not worried I’ll try something?” he asks cautiously. Iruka scoffs.

“I know jiu-jitsu. Touch me and I’ll throw you through a wall.” 

That would explain the muscles. And Kakashi’s desire to be pinned by him. 

“I have eight dogs,” he warns.

“They’ll make excellent feet-warmers,” Iruka says dismissively. “Do you have good pillows? I’m a stickler for good pillows, I need the support for my neck, otherwise I get stiff shoulders.”

“I have a couple memory foam ones, plus a down comforter and some quilts-”

“Oh God, yes, talk dirty to me.”

“Anyway, I get the bed, you can have the couch.”

“Screw you, I just worked a double shift. I get the bed.”

“It smells like wet dog.”

“I babysit a five-year old. I’ve smelled worse.”

“Okay, fine. We share the bed, but I get the right side.”

“That’s not fair, I want the right side.”

“You can have the right side if you cook us breakfast tomorrow. Or lunch, rather. I’m not getting up till noon.”

“I’ll cook, but you have to clean up. Deal?”

“Deal.”

They shake on it, firmly sealing the agreement, and head off down the road together.

They don’t let go.

(Written for @kakairu-fest Nine Weeks of Summer, Week Two Prompt: Shop AU)

[ourplaceinthecosmosphff]

Chapter 27. Ice and Band Aids

'You deserve to be fought for, remember that’ - The Better Man Project

I prayed that it looked innocent from afar, because from where I was standing it felt very dangerous. Harry to one side, hand to his locked jaw, looking away. To the other, Christopher, hands in his pockets, eyes going from me to the ginger, brows furrowed.

Both men looked hostile, shoulders squared back, an annoyed, aggressive look on their eyes.

The silence was tense.

“Christopher?”

“Bonjour.” He greeted, spinning his hat in his hands. His hair was longer, but other than that, he looked the same.

“Wha-what are you doing here?”

“I may not be royalty, but I’m not trailer trash, either, bunny. I know people.” He said.

It was definitely the old nickname that shook me out of my shock, and brought me straight back into reality: my ex-boyfriend, almost fiancé, standing next to me in a place swimming with the upper class and the world’s press, while the man I was in love with watched.

“That’s not what I meant.” I explained, rispid.

“So this is it, huh?” He asked, coldly, looking between me and Harry, his grin, hostile.

“This is what?” I asked.

“Him.” He replied, pointing his chin at Harry in a dismissive manner. “He’s the one?”

“Chris.” I sighed, already dreading where this was going.

“May I help you?” Harry asked, his tone dripping with disgust.

“Oh, you’ve helped me plenty.” Chris replied, his tone matching Harry’s. “Helped me dodge a fucking bullet.” He added, looking at me, sarcasm all over his manner.

“Christopher, I–” I stuttered, trying to think of something to say that would end this as fast as possible.

“No need to explain, bunny, I get it. Clear as day.”

“I think it’s time for you to go, man.” Harry interrupted, stepping closer, putting himself between me and my ex.

“Yeah, go on.” Christopher said, stepping closer to Harry himself until he was staring up at him. “Really easy to play the big man after you steal someone else’s girl, isn’t it?”

“Christopher!” I interrupted, outraged, but whispery, terrified people would notice how deeply darker the energy had gotten around us. “That is not what happened.”

“I’m sure you’re so used to getting your way your whole life,” Chris added, mocking, “nothing’s out of reach for the little prince, right?”

“You’re really embarrassing yourself here, dude. I’d take my losses and go if I were you.” Harry told him, voice steady.

“Oh, but you’re not. You people couldn’t take a day in the life of a normal person, not after being coddled your whole life. But here’s the thing, buddy,” Christopher said, somehow managing to take one more step closer to Harry, “you think you can do what you want because of that little silver spoon you were born with, but never forget you might have lucked out being born at the right family, but you were born in the wrong order, my guy. At the end of the day you're too down the line to matter.”

“Chris!”

“Any room you walk into, people don't see you, they just see granny, don't they? You got nothing else. You are nothing else.”

I braced myself, took in a deep breath, and stepped closer to them. “That’s enough.”

They both ignored me.

“And I think you know that, too, don’t you? That you’re nothing?” Christopher asked. “No wonder you had to go after Maggie, conveniently right after her brother died, of course–”

I sighed, staring around, feeling useless.

“I think it’s time for you to shut up.” Harry told him, louder now.

“–how else would you make yourself feel you have anything to offer? Not work, surely, little prince is too good for that, so let’s latch on to a royal who actually lucked out and got some power now.”

“Ma’am, maybe we should go?” Joyce asked, lowly, to my ear.

I looked back. Though our staff had stayed behind when we moved to the hallway, our security had followed, as it was their job to keep an eye on us at all times, even if by far. Harry’s security, for example, were watching from a few meters behind us. They didn’t seem to notice how badly things had progressed – as both Harry and Christopher were keeping their tone very low – but they were still standing in a way to shield us from view to other people.

“Get Harry’s security.” I asked Joyce.

“I will, but you should come with.” She replied. “Wait back inside with the others while we handle this–”

“Joyce, now.” I demanded, and she hurried away.

“I think we’re done here.” Harry added, looking past him, down the hallway, and already reaching out his hand for mine.

Christopher stepped up between us, blocking his way.

“Did you try to cozy up to Louis too, before he died? You were his type.” He looked at me, now grinning, leaning closer as if sharing a secret. I leaned back. “Pity the throne isn't made of dick, right? Lou would have loved it then, right, bunny?”

Harry shoved himself back between me and Christopher. “Okay, this is over.”

Chris shoved him back one step. “Oh, is it, little prince?” He asked, laughing, humorless. “If you say, we must obey, right? God forbid you encounter someone who doesn’t bow to your every wish!”

At this, Harry’s security finally showed up.

“Sir?”

He raised a hand, stopping them in place. They didn’t approach more. I wanted to punch someone.

“You really are a fucking dick, huh?” Harry asked him. The light of anger in his eyes was the only thing that betrayed his calm.

“Shouldn’t have stolen my girlfriend if you wanted me to kiss your ass, asshole.”

At this, he shoved Harry again, but this time Harry wasted no time in returning a punch directly to Christopher’s face.

“Oh, my God.” I gasped.

A lot of things happened at the same time: Joyce pulled me back. Harry’s security officer stepped in, but wasn’t quick enough to stop Christopher from returning a punch against Harry. Next thing I know, we’re all being held back, one or two meters apart from each other, each by a security officer.

“That’s assault! I’m going to fucking sue you so hard your fucking grandchildren will be paying up!” Chris spit out, clenching a hand to his left eye.

I looked at Harry, who’s cheekbone had a small scratch; he was flexing his hand from the punch.

I stepped towards Christopher, shaking off Joyce’s hand on my arm.

“Try.” I dared him. “There’s four witnesses here who saw you shove him twice and call him names multiple times. Harry was acting in self-defense. Any court will find you guilty of inciting violence, intimidation, maybe even assault of the third degree. I don’t know what you learned in Law School, Christopher, but I think you may even serve time for that.”

“Maybe you’ll go to jail, and then you’ll be someone’s bunny.” Harry said.

Christopher attempted to lunge at him again, but Harry’s officer held him in place, and he gave up quickly enough.

“Breaking up with you was my choice, Chris.” I told him, stronger now. “If you don’t think I am able of making my own choices without another man being involved, then that’s on me for taking so long to realize how little regard you have for me.”

He rolled his eyes, scoffed, and gave Harry another dirty look. Then he shoved off Harry’s security officer’s hold on him, and took off towards the elevators.

“Jesus Christ.”

I looked back at Harry, whose face was being held in place by one of his security officers. He gently shrugged the man’s hands off.

“I’m fine.” He said.

“Harry, I am so sorry.” I said, pushing past Joyce towards him. “This is–He is–I mean.” I sighed and groaned at the same time. “I am so sorry.”

His hand gave my arm a gentle squeeze. “This isn’t on you, Mary. At all.”

“Stil, what are we going to do? You have a scratch on your cheekbone, that’s going to swell and get red, it may look like you have a black eye.”

“Relax, I can handle it.”

“That’s not what I mean!”

“Sir, we should probably leave.” His security interrupted. “We can’t be sure who witnessed this, and the longer we stay the clearer your wound will be.”

“That’s what I mean!” I said.

“Okay, I get it.” Harry sighed. “For the record, he barely touched me. It’s not that bad.”

“Her Royal Highness is correct, it’ll get worse, especially the longer you don’t ice it.” His officer added. “If we wait, they’ll have you pictured arriving normally, and leaving with scratches.”

“Scratch, one scrath!” Harry corrected. “Fine. Get Edward and secure a way out.”

Joyce approached me again. “Ma’am, we should go back inside.”

“What? No, I–”

“It’s okay.” Harry said. “It’s okay, Mary. You should go ahead, you don’t want to be associated with this.”

My heart sank with guilt. “I should be. It’s my fault.”

“No, it isn’t–”

“How isn’t this my fault, Harry?! He’s my ex. This whole thing was about me!”

His secretary arrived right then, interrupting his rebuttal.

“We should leave right now.” He said. “While the race is on and fewer reporters will be expecting exits.”

Harry looked at me, longingly.

“Ma’am,” Joyce insisted, “we should join the others.”

I looked at Harry, whose eyes were still on me, feeling my heartbeat heavy in my throat.

His security officer came back.

“We’re ready to leave, sir.” He said. “We’ll take the stairs down.”

Harry continued to look at me in a desperately sad way. Finally, he sighed, a smile on his lips that didn’t reach his eyes.

“I guess I’ll see you around.”

I nodded. “I’m sorry, again.”

He shrugged. “It’s okay. I get it.”

I wondered, briefly, if he thought I was apologizing for something else. Maybe the thing he had just said that was still echoing in my head.

“We should really get going.” His secretary insisted.

“Fine.” Harry said, rispid, before giving me another quick smile. He opened his mouth to say something, seemed to think better of it, and closed it again. “Take care.” He said, before being quickly escorted to the stairs by his team.

Joyce cleared her throat after they were all gone.

“We should go back, ma’am, before you’re missed.”

“Yes, thank you, Joyce. I get it.” I replied, instantly feeling guilty over my tone, but filing out quickly, without looking back.

I had a few certainties for the rest of the afternoon: one, my outfit was, apparently, a statement. I knew this because I overheard two women talking about me in the bathroom when they didn’t know I was in one of the stalls.

Two, Cadie and Auguste, and everyone else, knew nothing about what had occurred with Harry and Christopher. I even asked Joyce if my other security officer, Pierre, had seen anything, but apparently he’d been guarding the doors. And, as Joyce assured me of her silence, I didn’t have any explanations to give to anyone.

And three, I had to talk to him. There was simply no way I could go home without talking to Harry about, well, not about what had happened exactly, but definitely about what he had said. And I knew, even as I spent all the following hours thinking it over, I knew exactly why I shouldn’t talk to him. It was impossible not to know when I had been told over and over before.

And yet, there I was: outside Kensington Palace, barely a couple of hours after he had left Ascot, sitting in the car trying to decide if I should follow my heart, or if I could go back home and live with the regret.

My phone chimed once, letting me know I had a new message. It was from Cadie:

‘Guards have been informed and taken your ID. You can go in.’

I sighed. She and Auguste were in a separate car, and I had another with my two security officers. I had sent Cadie to the gate to inform them I was here and give them my passport.

‘BTW Auguste is really insisting we go home.’

I rolled my eyes to the dark and made my choice. I typed a reply for her:

‘Go home, I’ll be fast, but there’s no need for you to wait.’

I waited for her reply on the edge of my seat, wondering if whatever Auguste had to say would make me change my mind. But the reply never came. We just saw their car take off. Then Joyce and Pierre looked at me.

“Ma’am?” Joyce asked.

“Let’s go in.” I decided.

The guards let us in, and took a look at the car just to confirm we were who they had been told we were. We were then pointed in the direction of Harry’s Cottage.

When we parked in front of the cottage, I realized I wouldn’t need to knock. I felt stupid – of course security would tell him he had a visitor. So I stepped out of the car, and met him in the sidewalk. Each step closer gave me more dread.

The area around his left cheekbone was slightly swollen, and redder. The scratch was red enough that left me no doubts that it was bleeding, even if just a little.

“I’m fine.” He said as a greeting.

I shrugged. “I’m sure you are. I only came for a drink.”

He grinned, nodded, and ushered me inside.

Strangely, it felt like coming home. I walked into his house, his slightly messy house, with the jacket he’d worn today thrown over the couch, dishes still to wash in the sink, and fresh, unfolded laundry on a basket by the stairs, and I felt an immediate sense of relief. Like I could stop being proper and regal. As if now it was safe to step off of my heels and be myself.

It was a dangerous thing to feel at home with a man I wasn’t supposed to love.

“Make yourself at home.” He said, unknowingly rubbing salt to my every wound.

“Okay.” I replied, kicking off my shoes, and leaving them by the door with my handbag. “Why aren’t you icing that?”

He sighed. “It’s just a scratch, Mary.”

I quickly pulled off my hat, and the half-a-dozen bobby pins keeping it in place, and made my way to the kitchen, finding an ice tray in the fridge.

“Seriously, it’s not a big deal. I know it was scary and all, but–”

“Don’t tell me it wasn’t a big deal!” I said, knocking the tray to the sink after washing it. I looked back at him, softly as an apology of sorts for the loud tone. “It was awful. He dragged you into something that has nothing to do with you, put you in a terrible and dangerous position, not to mention being horribly rude and offensive!”

“I can handle it–” He started, but stopped himself when I groaned in response and turned back to the sink to get a handful of ice out of the tray.

“I don’t care that you can handle it. Of course you can! I can, too! That’s not the point!” I said. I found a clean kitchen towel to wrap the ice in.

Harry walked to me, and leaned against the kitchen sink.

“You’re right. It sucked.” He said. “But, can I ask you a qu–God, what–!” He complained when I touched the ice to his face.

“Don’t be such a baby.”

“It hurts!”

“Just keep the ice to it.” I insisted, holding his hand in place. “Or else it’ll stay swollen longer.”

“You’re right. It sucked.” He said. “But, can I ask you a qu–God, what–!” He complained when I touched the ice to his face.

“Don’t be such a baby.”

“It hurts!”

“Just keep the ice to it.” I insisted, taking his hand and holding it over the ice to keep it in place. “Or else it’ll stay swollen longer.”

I held my hand to his jaw, keeping his head in place, adjusting his hand holding the ice to the wound as he winced. I held my hand over his for a moment, then removed both to look at the scratch.

“We should clean it.” I said, my voice coming out softer than I had intended it. “To be safe.”

His eyes were on my lips, which they didn’t leave as he nodded, gulping.

I stepped back and grabbed his first aid kit from where I knew it was, under the sink. As I went through it, looking for gauze and, well, really just doing nothing to give myself time to breathe, he moved closer to me, leaning on his side against the counter by my side, facing me.

“I’m sorry.” I said, looking down at the box. “I’m just really angry right now and I… I don’t don’t know what to do with that, and I know it’s not your fault, of course, but it frustrates me to no end that you’re not.”

“Who says I’m not?!”

I looked at him, finally. He was closer than I had realized.

“You’re too calm to be angry.” I complained.

“I’m calm because you keep apologizing to me.” He said. “And if there’s one person here who I know did not ask for this, it’s you.”

“You didn’t, either–”

“No, I kind of did.” He said, scratching his brow with his free hand, avoiding my eyes.

“What do you mean?”

“Well, even if you disregard the countless times I wished I could punch that guy in the face before today, I did punch him first.”

“After he said a thousand horrible things.” I countered.

“No, I think if I’m honest with myself, I’ve been kind of hoping for the chance to punch him for a long time.” He sighed. “So I wasn’t exactly eager to diffuse the situation today.”

I regarded him, silent, trying to understand what he’d just said.

“Why did–” I started, weakly; confused. “Why would you want to punch him? I mean, you know what? Nevermind.” I shrugged. “You should feel proud you saw him for who he was before I did.”

I wet a piece of gauze in the sink, and pulled him by the arm to the kitchen table, sitting him in a chair facing me.

“As sexy as it is when having you man-handle me like this,” he said, smiling charmingly, “I can tell you’re still mad.”

I touched his hand, removing it from the scratch, and dabbed the gauze over it to clean it. He winced.

“I thought you said it didn’t hurt.” I teased.

“Shut up.” He grinned. “But, please, continue. You were saying I was so smart for seeing him for who he was before anyone else.”

I smiled in spite of myself. “Maybe it’s less about you being so smart, and more about me just being dumb.”

“You’re not dumb.” He said, simply.

I sighed, tapping the scratch with a dry piece of gauze now. “Well, what would you call it?”

He seemed confused. I sighed, tired.

“I’ve known Christopher for most of my life. He was my first crush, my first kiss, my first boyfriend. Hell, my only boyfriend! I was going to marry that guy! You know how serious that kind of decision is for people like us! And I was, for like, the last two years of college up until last year, I thought I was going to marry him!”

The ice was dripping on the table now, so I grabbed his hand, placed it over the gauze, and took the ice to the sink, taking in a deep breath and exhaling it slowly on the way.

“I wasn’t just in love with him, I genuinely liked him. I thought of him as a good, cool person.” I looked back at him, “I don’t know that guy that we saw today, and I don’t believe people can change that dramatically that fast, which means he’s always been a dick, and I just didn’t see. I didn’t see it! So much so that I almost married him. How stupid is that?!”

I bit my lip, feeling my nails scratching my palms in frustration. I took in a deep breath again, and found a bandaid box in the first aid kit. I walked back over to Harry.

“And I didn’t even do anything while he went off on you like that.” I shook my head in disappointment. “I was such a coward.”

He reached out and held my hand in his. “You did nothing wrong.”

I smiled at him. “I thought we established saying that didn’t help.”

“I’ll keep saying it until it does.”

I sighed, still smiling, but still frustrated as Chris’ words swirled around my head. I removed Harry’s hand with the gauze from the scratch, taking a step closer to him so I could see it better from up close. I felt his eyes on me, and a warm puff of air as his breathing grew heavier. I avoided his eyes. It felt safer.

I grabbed the ice from him, a little more forcefully than necessary. Remembering just how absurdly offensive Chris had been, I let out a huff of anger. Harry blinked, patiently.

“What is it?”

“Nothing.” I said, quickly. “It's not worth it.”

“You’re right. But you’re angry.” He insisted. Still, I was quiet. “Okay. Truth or dare?”

I rolled my eyes to the ceiling. “Not now, Harry.”

“Oh, we can refuse to play, can we?”

“…we never discussed that specific rule.”

“Okay, then pick.”

I sighed. “Truth?”

“Talk to me. What are you thinking about?”

I straightened up, allowing my bubbling anger to come to surface.

“Fine! I’m thinking about what would have happened if we hadn’t broken up. I’m thinking that that part of him would have come out eventually, and what would have set him off? Me? Our children? What would he have done? Who would he have hit if you weren’t there? And more importantly,” I heaved a heavy sigh, “how dare he accuse you of all those things?! He doesn’t know you! He doesn’t know us, or our story, and everything that happened between us! He said all of that bullshit based solely on me breaking up with him, and seeing us talking! Nothing else!”

The kitchen was silent as I breathed heavily, still holding the ice to his cheek.

“…I just need to say it.”

I looked down at him, who was staring off into the wall.

“I think I know what you’ll say, but I need to say it, anyway…” He gulped. “It’s not true. What he said. You know that, right?”

He looked up at me, tentatively. I let my hand fall from his face.

“Harry…” I started, weakly. “Of course. Of course, I know. He–Christop–Ugh!” I put–no, threw the ice down at the table, angrily. “How could I have been so blind?!”

I ran both hands through my hair in frustration, pulling it a little. I looked back at Harry, took a deep breath, and let my arms fall to my sides.

“Harry.” I started, softer, pleading, “He was projecting. He was probably trying to save face, because that’s what I accused him of doing when we broke up.”

His brows furrowed up at me. “Really?”

I sighed. “He… I don’t think he did it on purpose. I don’t think it was a big, evil plan, or anything like that… I don’t think he realizes that’s what he did. But he… He didn’t seem to care about me or our relationship until after Louis died. Like the sacrifices he would have had to make weren’t worth it unless I had a title that held actual power.”

His expression grew from confusion, to anger. “Are you literally fucking kidding me?!”

“…no. Again, I don’t think he knew that’s what he was doing… But he didn’t want to marry me until it meant he would have a bigger role within the royal family. And I said that when he proposed.”

“Wait, he proposed?!”

“Oh, man, we really need to catch up.” I joked. “In front of both our parents, and my sister.”

“I think I read something about that in the press, it seemed too ridiculous to be true.”

I smiled, humorless. “Believe me, the real thing was worse.”

“That fucking…” he mumbled. “Dick. That fucking dick.”

“Relax, it’s over.” I shrugged.

“Now I wish I had punched him harder.” He added.

I watched him for a few seconds, biting my lip, before it became too hard to stop myself from breaking into a smile.

“Well, at least you punched him.” I said, taking another step closer, standing between both his legs to ice his cheek again. “I just stood there, like an idiot.” I framed his jaw with my other hand, pulling his face slightly up so I could see the wound better.

Though my eyes were firmly in his cheek, I could feel his on me.

“I should have done more.” He complained, sounding strained. “I should have stopped him before he talked about your brother. That was way over the line.”

I bit my lip, gulping, wishing like hell I could tell him the truth about Louis’ sexuality, and about how confused I was, wondering if Chris knew something about it he had never told me.

But then, I realized. “Louis would have laughed in his face.” I told him, smiling myself. It made him smile, too.

“What do you think he would have said?” Harry asked. “If you told him about what Christopher did today.”

I considered this for a few seconds.

“He would have found the nearest bottle of booze and had us toast to the bullet I dodged.”

I was being sincere, but the minute Harry laughed, I did, too.

“And then would have spent the rest of his life asking for praise for being right about him.”

“Really?” He asked, serious. “I thought he liked him. Your whole family seems to.”

“Chris is just part of our context…” I shrugged. “But after the second time we broke up, Lou never defended him the same way the others did. He always said I deserved better.”

I took the ice from his cheek, and dried it with the clean part of the towel.

“I think it’s better.” I declared. “I think we should go with a band aid and maybe icing it a little more.”

I opened the band aid box, realizing it was all kids’ band aids. I looked at him, inquisitive.

“It’s my nephew’s.” He shrugged, blushing.

“Right.” I nodded, unconvinced, and slightly amused. I took out two, and offered it to him. “Trucks or superheroes?”

“Dealer’s choice.”

I carefully placed a spiderman band aid over his cheekbone, coming closer to make sure none of the glue was touching his scratch.

“A superhero for the hero who defended my honor today.” I teased, making him smile.

Making sure the band aid was secure in place, I caressed his cheek, and then continued to do so a little more than necessary. It was just… It was so easy to look at him like this, standing right over him, his legs around mine, his face in my hands, a perfectly innocent excuse for it all.

I allowed my thumb to travel from his cheekbone to his nose, and then down to the corner of his lips.

“I’d defend your honor anyday.” He added, whispery, his warm breath joining mine.

I didn’t remember being this close to him before, but he certainly felt close now.

“There’s something I’m wondering.” He said, still just as softly, just as carefully.

“Yes?”

“Before… you said…” He gulped, eyes going between mine and my lips, blinking rapidly. “You said he dragged me into something that had nothing to do with me.”

I nodded, slowly, hands still framind his jaw, thumb to his lower lip.

“He shouldn’t have accused you of anything.” I said. “You did nothing wrong. What happened between Christopher and I, it had nothing to do with you.”

He nodded only slightly. His eyes traveled to mine, too close now.

“So it had… nothing to do with me?” He asked. “At all?”

I bit my lower lip, closing my eyes in frustration.

“I…” I sighed. “We had a lot of problems. Problems I had been ignoring for a long time.”

When I looked back at him, he had a small smile tugging at the corner of his lips; it felt nice under my thumb. His skin was warm now, all traces of the icing gone.

“That doesn’t answer my question.” He said.

Feeling way too weak for this, throwing all caution to the wind, I traced his lower lip with my thumb, my eyes following the line attentively.

“I forgot your question.” I whispered, watching as his smile grew, teasingly, into a grin.

I felt him lean forward, closer to me.

“Should I ask again?” He asked, the words falling from his lips as his nose touched mine, delicate.

With one short move, easier than it should have been, I touched my lips to his, softly. Two seconds, then gone. I pulled back, only slightly, opening my eyes to see his closed.

“Does this answer your question?”

He didn’t answer mine; one swift move and his hands pulled me by my waist to him, just as he stood up, crashing my lips into his in a fury. His arms wrapped around my waist, hands splattered on my back, up and down, as if getting to know each centimeter of me they could reach.

My hands slide down his jaw to the back of his beck, tugging at his hair, allowing my walls to come falling down as his body met every inch of mine as he kissed me strong and fast. His hands, wide and firm in my back, rubbed against my sides, but stopped at my hips, questioning.

I pulled back, leaving my forehead on his, a breathless smile on my lips.

Bringing my hands back down, I traced his lapel, finding the first button of his shirt. I undid it, and looked at him, before undoing the next one. And the next.

His lips stretched into a smile and he leaned down, tugging me closer, kissing me again, with renewed energy. His hands slid down my hips, finding my buttcheeks, and with one firm move he lifted me towards him, to sit on top of the table. I wrapped my legs around him.

“By the way,” I added, as his lips found their way to my neck, “I’m falling in love with you, too.”

--- ---- ---

[A/N: Y’all. I know I’ve dropped the ball here. I totally stopped with the previews and have been posting very late on mondays (technically tuesdays I guess), thank you SO MUCH for your patience! Being an adult sucks balls. BUT AT LEAST WE ARE FINALLY HERE! WHAT DO YOU THINK????? PLEASE LET ME KNOW. Also, what do you like? you know, seggs scene wise, full details or fade-to-black? I’m flexible. I love reading them (and writing them) but always feel super self-conscious writing them, so let me know? And thank you for reading, as always! Two last things:

1. Last week I forgot to ask, what do you think of Harry’s poem?? 2. Has anyone noticed anything familiar about Adrien’s storyline in NY, dating a celebrity out of nowhere? Just wondering.

DROP ME A MESSAGE THANKS FOR READING AND FOR BEING YOU AND FOR BEING HERE HAVE A GREAT WEEK!]

[writer-room]

Well, Could’ve Been Worse

AO3

Summary: No sane person would be calling at this house if it wasn’t important. His phone said it was two in the morning. Lovely. His phone also said Tim was calling. Also known as: not a normally sane person. If Tim had gone on another frenzied Red Bull-induced investigation and gotten himself stuck again, Kon was gonna kill him. Also known as: Tim makes stupid decisions when on a caffeine crash + sleep deprivation. Kon, sadly, has to deal with that at the worst hours.

Kon’s powers were...weird. Unstable, if you wanted to be specific. Not as bad as it used to be, but it still wasn’t the same as Clark’s. Thank you again, Luthor. 

Which means that if he’s conscious enough to check every now and again, he can do the whole ‘call my name and I’ll be there in about four seconds’ schtick, but it didn’t go so well when he was asleep. Cassie said he slept like the dead, to which Bart insisted that if there was ever food involved, he’d be wide awake faster than he could run across a room. 

Both were ridiculous, but whatever.

Tim, at least, had tried to assure Kon that surely Clark couldn’t hear disasters going on when he was asleep. Tim wasn’t one who was often wrong, but Kon was willing to play a risky betting game on this one.

It made sleeping a little anxiety-inducing for a while, knowing that if something happened. he wouldn’t know anything about it until he woke up. Tim had said that it was normal to hate sleeping because of hero business. 

Kon always thought of that comment every time he caught Tim awake at ungodly hours for days on end, staying up purely because of caffeine and spite. He should probably bring that up sometime. 

The point was, Kon didn’t hear things when he was asleep. Which could be a good and bad thing in its own right. He isn’t, however, impervious to an obnoxiously loud ringing going off by his head.

.

Kon snorted as he woke, his phone ringing eerily sudden in the quiet of the Cave. He groaned, sitting up from where he’d passed out on the couch in the Cave. He suspiciously remembered something involving Cassie and arm wrestling landing him here, but he was too tired to care about that now.

His phone was on the ground beside him, a wonder nobody had stepped on it, especially Bart. It rang painfully loud, though that was probably because it was the first sound he’d heard in the past...however many hours it’d been. Kon resigned himself to slowly reaching down and pulling his phone up as he leaned against the arm of the couch. No sane person would be calling at this house if it wasn’t important. 

His phone said it was two in the morning. Lovely.

His phone also said Tim was calling. Also known as: not a normally sane person.

If Tim had gone on another frenzied Red Bull-induced investigation and gotten himself stuck again, Kon was gonna kill him.

That’s a lie, he wouldn’t. Cassie, however, would kill him if he told her. So he could probably settle for that.

With a sigh, Kon mentally prepared to hear incoherent rambling he’d need to find Bart to interpret, and accepted the call.

“It’s two in the morning, Tim.” Was the first thing he said, letting his annoyance seep in.

“It’s like, two twenty-four,” Tim’s voice rasped over the phone, far scratchier than normal. “So if you woke up at normal times like everyone else, this wouldn’t be as big an issue.”

“You are not the person to be telling me how to go about my sleep schedule.” Kon scolded lightly. “So I sleep in till noon, so what?”

“You woke up at three--” Tim cut off with a series of coughing coming through. “--p.m yesterday.”

“Not the point,” Kon muttered. “Why are you calling? I thought you were still in the Cave?”

There was shuffling on the other line, and Tim’s voice came through more faded, like he was further from the phone.

“Oh, yeah, left a few hours ago on patrol,” Tim wheezed. “Thought I’d be back before Bart woke up. He’s been wakin’ at like...six a.m or something.”

“Tim,” Kon started.

“It was barely a patrol,” Tim puffed. “More like...doin' rounds and...grabbing something from Denny’s.”

Tim’s words were slurring here and there. He did so a lot when he started having caffeine withdrawal or was coming down from a Red Bull rush. Or was sleep deprived. None of those options were comforting.

“Did you find some villains?” Kon inquired, praying that there was a less ridiculous reason he was being woken up so late. “You need backup or something?”

“Woulda called like...the headquarters if I did, dude.”

Yeah, something was wrong.

“What’s this all about, then?” Kon asked, swinging his legs off the edge of the couch and standing. “Where are you?”

“Okay, okay,” Tim mumbled, his voice closer to the phone now. “Uh, you know...the Denny’s...but it’s by that weird tiny mall with the Starbucks?”

“Yeah?”

“I’m about...two streets over from that. By a bustop. Don’t worry, don’t worry, street lamps are out.” Tim assured quickly.

“The street lamps are out?” Kon repeated.

“Broke ‘em.”

“Course you did,” Kon sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose as he stood up. “Seriously, man, what’s going on? What happened?”

“M’fine,” Tim lied, poorly. “Just don’t like...tell Cassie. She’ll kill me. With her eyeballs.”

“Tim, I’m way too tired for you to dodge around questions right now.” Kon groaned. “What happened and why do you need me? If you're not answering this outright, I’m hanging up and going back to bed.”

That’s also a lie. A bad one, at that. He’d probably stay on the phone all night if Tim needed him to. Though he’d definitely try and wake Cassie or Bart to help him out, he’s not that loyal.

“I was getting to it!” Tim whined, and oh wow, he must really be delirious. Bart was gonna be so mad if there weren’t any videos later. “I just kinda...wasn’t payin’ attention n’ stuff.”

“Paying attention to what?” 

“The road,”

Kon froze.

“What?”

“Got hit by a car,” Tim slurred. “S’cool though, got outta there fast. Happened like...five streets back.”

“What the hell, Tim?” Kon nearly dropped his phone, remembering last-minute to grab his jacket off the floor as he started to race to the nearest exit out of the Cave. “You need to start with the ‘I got hit by a car’ part, not correcting what time it is!”

“There was time,” Tim mumbled. “I’m not dyin’ or anything.”

“You were hit by a car.” Kon stressed, already in the air. Thank you, inhuman speed.

“But I’m not dying,” Tim said simply. “Doesn’t count. Just hurts like a b--”

“Hang on, I’m nearby.” Kon talked over him, landing on a rooftop. The streets had grown recognizable fast, and thankfully, if Tim was right about his coordinates, he wasn’t that far from the Justice Cave. Probably wasn’t smart to fly at ridiculous speeds at two in the morning when he was barely awake, but he was too preoccupied to care.

“Oh, cool.” 

Kon shoved his phone in his pocket as he flew down from the rooftops, far slower this time. He scanned the streets quickly, almost skimming right over the bus stop Tim was at. The lack of light, plus his darker costume, was not helping matters.

Sure enough, Tim was where he said he’d be. He wasn’t even sitting on the bench. More like dramatically draped over it with his arms keeping him upright and legs strewn behind him. The nearest street lamps had been shattered, probably with whatever Tim carried in his utility belt these days.

And Christ, Tim was a mess.

He must’ve been wearing a concealer, or it was extra pronounced tonight, because he had heavy bags under his eyes. His hair was a mess and falling into his eyes, his mask slightly askew. His costume wasn’t in awful shape, but his cape was twisted around so that it hung sideways rather than regularly situated on his back, and he had a few small tears here and there. Aside from the palms of his gloves, those had bigger tears. Plus he had scuffs of gravel and dirt.

And blood, there was blood, too. Blood on his hands, knees, and smears on the side of his face. But all in all, he looked more dazed and bruised than anything.

“No big deal, huh?” Kon said, crouching down beside his friend.

“Had worse,” Tim mumbled, resting his cheek on the bench. “M’just tired, really.” 

“That all?” Kon sighed, taking off his jacket as he debated if it would be worth it to patch up the small amount of bleeding he could see.

“Breathin’s being weird, too.” Tim added, as an afterthought. “Think I fractured something.”

“Of course you did,” Kon groaned, reaching out and turning Tim around so he was sitting upright, leaning against the bench.

Tim hissed in pain at the movement, eyes shutting for a moment as Kon paused, anxiously looking him over.

“Please don’t tell me you broke a rib,” Kon begged, more to himself than Tim as he reached out to feel his side.

“Ow, ow, ow!” Tim yelped, cringing away.

“Hospital,” Kon decided with a nod and a grimace. “You need a hospital.”

“I’m Red Robin,” Tim complained. “Can’t go to hospital. Dad would kill me.” He insisted, dramatically thunking his head back on the bench and throwing an arm over his eyes.

“Medical attention, then.” Kon said. “At least until you pass out so we can take you to a hospital when you can’t complain about it.”

“You're so mean,” Tim whined, shifting his arm slightly to give Kon a glare. “Bart wouldn’t treat me like this.”

“Bart would probably be having a panic attack.”

“S’why I called you,” Tim mumbled, slumping down and off the side of the bench, leaving Kon to jump and support Tim’s head before it conked against the concrete. “Cassie woulda yelled at me.”

“She’s definitely going to yell at you now,” Kon agreed, gently keeping his hand on the back of Tim’s head as he pushed him back upright. “How did this even happen? Don’t you have ridiculously fast reflexes or something?”

“It was a hit n’ run, I know it was.” Tim rasped, weakly shaking a fist.

“You said you fled the scene.”

“Was still totally a hit n’ run,”

Kon sighed, knowing he wasn’t going to win this argument tonight. None of the bleeding was concerning, so instead he settled for dumping his jacket over Tim’s shoulders. He also picked up Tim’s phone from where it’d been discarded on the pavement, shoving it in one of the jackets pockets.

“Pretty sure you're just too tired to notice anything,” He muttered quietly, scooping his arms underneath Tim’s knees and back.

“Was gonna get more coffee, swear it.” Tim mumbled, letting himself go completely limp as Kon picked him up. “Came outta nowhere,”

“Next time I catch you pulling all-nighters, I’m sitting on you till you get proper sleep.” Kon threatened, giving Tim a half-hearted shake as he rose into the air. 

“If you catch me,” Tim said cheerfully, giving a crooked smile.

Would’ve been a lot more charming if it weren’t for the fact it reopened what was apparently a still-healing cut on his lip.

Not that it was charming to begin with. Injured best friend, not the time. Kon shook his head.

“I’m Superboy, it won’t be hard.” Kon boasted, flying at a grudgingly slower speed back to the Cave. It probably wouldn’t help Tim if he went back at the same speed he arrived, the base wasn’t that far, anyway.

“You miss things all the time,” Tim huffed, raising a weak hand to presumably poke at Kon’s face, but ended up just flailing it around.

“Psh, not that often.” Kon rolled his eyes. 

“Yeah, you do,” Tim insisted, letting his head hang back, staring upside-down at the ground below them. “Obvious things. Miss ‘em all the time.”

“Like what?” Kon pressed. “And you're not allowed to say anything about the Justice League, they don’t count.”

Tim went quiet. Kon wondered for a brief, terrifying moment, that Tim really had passed out from his adrenaline rush before they made it to base. But then Tim raised his head and he could breathe easy.

Tim stared at him for a moment, eyes narrowed. It was his ‘I’m not sure if you're being sarcastic or actually an idiot’ face, which, honestly, could be better classified as ‘I’m judging you for being an idiot’ face, considering the circumstances he used it in.

Kon met his gaze, more than a little curious. Normally Tim would’ve started rattling off all the things he’s oblivious to on a daily basis. The hesitation was...well, not normal. He chalked it up to Tim being loopy from his whole ordeal.

“Stuff,” Tim decided, his head falling back to its original position so fast that Kon cringed.

“Descriptive,” Kon sighed, grateful for the sight of the Cave, speeding their flight. 

“Shut up, I’m tired and broken.” Tim mumbled, his voice laced with drowsiness. 

“Then maybe, and here’s a thought,” Kon said, landing just outside the Cave. “You don’t go days without sleep to the point you get hit by a car of all things.”

Tim opened his mouth to protest, but Kon talked right over him.

“I know, I know, it’s very difficult to ask of you.” He said, his playful snooty tone lessened by the smugness that seeped in. “But with the right routine, I’m sure we could figure something out.”

“You sound like a horrifying combination of Alfred and Dick.” Tim grumbled, no less limp as Kon carried him inside the base. “I wish you had your sunglasses so I could break them--wait,” Tim raised his head again, squinting at Kon. “Where’s your glasses?”

“Didn’t really have time to grab them after, you know, you woke me up at two in the morning and stalled in telling me you were bleeding at a bus stop.” Kon snarked.

“It was two twenty-four,” Tim muttered quietly, drawing his arms up to his chest and looking away.

And dammit, Kon was almost convinced Krypto was rubbing off on Tim too much. The guy looked like a puppy after stealing food from the table. Which, frankly, was something Kon would also do if he had to eat the same thing every day. Clark hadn’t seen it that way, but whatever.

Kon held back a sigh, shuffling through the hallways. He could probably put Tim on the couch, right? Christ, Cassie was gonna bite off his head for waking her up.

“Just be careful, alright?” Kon murmured, resituating Tim in his arms. He got slippery after a while. “You don’t need to be up at all hours of the night to patrol,” He said, frowning to himself.

Tim reached up one of his arms and looped it around Kon’s neck, aiding Kon in holding him properly. His face turned to the side and pressed into Kon’s chest, huffing.

“You have your family to look after Gotham at night, anyway. That helps, doesn’t it?” Kon added.

“S’not the same,” Tim mumbled, his voice muffled.

Kon would’ve argued, really, he often does, but tonight just wasn’t the night. Tim was too battered for much of anything to sink in, and honestly, he was still tired. And he was pretty sure if he spent another ten minutes around Tim with nobody else to buffer, his common sense was going to finally kick in and make him start freaking out even more.

“At least take someone with you,” Kon settled on, craning his neck down so he could press his nose into Tim’s hair. It was still frazzled and greasy. “Bart’s already awake at ungodly hours. Jinny’s down for almost anything. Hell, I’d come with you if you asked.”

“You’d come without me asking.” Tim muffled, and Kon swore if he could see Tim’s face he’d be smirking. “Besides, you complain.”

“I complain, but that doesn’t mean I won’t do it.” Kon huffed, slowly moving his head back as he came to the couch he had, previously, been having a rather nice sleep on. “And honestly, if someone like you can end up getting hit by a regular car of all things, you probably shouldn’t be out on the streets on your own.”

“Piss off, it’s a bad night.”

“Keep telling yourself that,” Kon rolled his eyes, slowly leaning down so he could place Tim on the couch.

“Ow,” Tim groaned, his arm tightening around Kon’s neck as he was set down, his other hand coming up to fist the side of his uniform.

“Scale of one to ten, how bad can you guess it is?” Kon winced, slowly slipping his hands out from under Tim.

“Mm, well, it's not broken.” Tim slurred, refusing to unwrap his arm from Kon’s neck, leaving the super to awkwardly bend forward. “Probably just cracked. If it was broken, I would've lost a lung by now.”

“Ah,” Kon hummed anxiously, raising a hand to unwrap Tim’s arm from him. “That...is a nice thought.”

“Just told you it wasn’t broken,” Tim grumbled, glaring up at Kon as his arm was pried free.

“Your way of being comforting isn’t the best,” Kon admitted with a tilt of his head, stepping back. “Now you stay here, alright? I’m gonna get Cassie.”

“Say your goodbyes now,” Tim groaned, pawing at his face until he caught the edge of his domino mask. “After today, I would’ve been better dumped in a ditch.” 

“It’s still nighttime,” Kon reminded.

“Details,” Tim waved his free hand, the other peeling off his mask and letting it fall to the floor.

“Whatever, just don’t move.” Kon warned, pointing a finger close to Tim’s face. His eyes were unfocused and hazy, and the sight of that only added to the pit that was opening in Kon’s chest.

“Aye aye, captain.” Tim mumbled, giving a half-hearted salute before letting his arm dangle off the couch. The other came up to clutch at the jacket still around his shoulders, turning his head into it.

Kon has never so badly wished he’d taken his phone out of his jacket earlier so he could take a picture. Never, he swears.

And, of course, he also wished Tim wasn’t injured. That was the main issue here, really.

Kon hesitated, stepping around the couch and glancing back. Tim was never known to stay put when asked, but it seemed this time he was being merciful. 

One friend down, two more to survive.

Could’ve gone worse, he reasoned as he creeped (in a poor attempt at being quiet) down the hallways towards Cassie’s room. A car was nothing. Except for a reminder that, unlike the rest of them, Tim wasn’t superpowered--but that was an anxiety for Tim to get offended about later. 

And if Tim woke up hours later in a hospital, with Dick on the other line and Cassie seconds away from cracking the rest of his bones herself, at least Kon could rest easy knowing that he wouldn’t be pulling that stunt again any time soon. Or at least be more careful. He’d take what he could get.

[kyber-kisses]

Hymn (Part 4)

Winchester Brothers x Sister!reader

Wanna start from the beginning? Here is the Masterlist!

Warnings: a good amount of feels and angst. . but there is fluff!

Summary: Y/N Winchester has wrestled with demons ever since her mother died, but when her younger brothers lives are in danger it’s their souls she fights to save, because isn’t that what a big sister should do? (Based on the song Hymn by Joel Porter) 

A/n: *Throws chapter at you and runs away* Have fun! (gif created by the lovely ellen-reincarnated1967)

“What do you think your doing?” Your voice slightly raising as you stepped back into the motel room, shutting the door softly behind you with a loud click.

“Definitely . . . Not jumping on the bed?” Dean tried, both him and Sam staring down at you from their perch on the nearest bed.

“Wow. I’m convinced.”

“It was Deans idea!” Sam quickly pointed, his little hand lightly smacking against Deans face as he did.

“I leave for three minutes and you guys go crazy? Now I know I can never leave you guys again, which is disappointing-“ you sighed. “Seeing as I was gonna give you guys this extra bag of funyuns.” You slowly pulled the bag out of your hoodie pocket, instantly making Dean freeze.

“Okay, wait we’re sorry.”

“Oh are you? I said no funny business while I was gone.”

“Yes! I’m sorry! Can we have them?” Dean was practically vibrating at this point, teetering on the edge of the mattress.

Narrowing your eyes, you let a silence fall between you before giving in and toss the bag onto the other bed. “Fine, go to town. No crumbs on the bed.” It didn't even take a second before the middle child was vaulting over the space between the beds and ripping the bag open.

Sam grimaced, not making a move from his spot at all. “Funyuns are gross.”

“Yeah, well that’s why I got you this-“ being a subtle as you could, you passed Sam the candy bar you had grabbed from the vending machine with a quick wink, his eyes lighting up as he grabbed it.

“Thanks, Y/N.”

“Yeah, don’t tell Dean.”

“I won’t.”

“Pinkie promise?”

He linked his small finger with yours. “I pinkie promise.”

*. *. *. *. *. *.

“Sam? . . . Sam!”

Suddenly snapping back into reality, Sam whipped his head around took at his brother. “What?”

“I’ve been talkin to you for the past five minutes, have you even heard a word that I’ve said?”

“. . .yes?”

“Wow, you are a terrible liar. What the hell were you even thinking about?”

Pressing his lips together the younger Winchester contemplated whether or not to say anything. You were always a risky topic . . . Especially to Dean, and seeing as his brother had been in a decent mood most of the drive he really didn’t want to take that away.

“Dude, seriously. Tell me what’s going on in that weird head of yours.” Flexing his hands on the steering wheel, Deans eyes bounced back between the road and Sam.

“Y/N. . . What else do you think I would be thinking about right now?”

Dean sucked in a breath before he nodded his head in understanding. “Wanna talk about it?”

“Not really. She’s gone. What’s it matter?”

He expected Dean to snap, lash out- like he did when they were younger and the wound still fresh, but instead he was silent. . . Only because he was trying to remember everything he could about his sister, both good and bad. He needed something to keep him grounded. For instance, You had been good at making people laugh, you’d take things in directions people wouldn’t expect- lewder, darker, more absurd— then ambush them into responding. Some of Deans humor stemmed from your own, he liked to think it was his way of keeping you close. Along with a love for old western movies and a passion for classic rock.

Happy thoughts. Just keep thinking happy thoughts, Dean. Just because Sam brought up Y/N does not mean you need to get bitter.

Turning his attention towards the radio, the hunter played with the volume until it was a soft hum that could easily be spoken over.

“You remember when Y/N used to play music in the mornings while Dad was gone on hunts?”

Sam let out a soft chuckle as confirmation. “You mean with that dinky old radio she got at a yard sale for like three bucks?”

“Yes! That’s the one!” Dean snapped his fingers, a grin tugging on his lips. “And it wasn’t even the good music we usually listened to in the car. . . It’s was like shitty upbeat soul and R&B.”

“You know she would probably smack you on top of the head if she heard you say that, right?”

“Yeah, probably-“ Dean chuckled, flicking on the turn signal as he turned onto a narrow two lane street. “Anyways you know how’d she dance around to it too? For like the soul purpose of embarrassing is even though there was no one else around?”

“Yeah, and she couldn’t dance worth a shit.” Sam added, smiling as he slowly began to remember.You were always doing stuff to get them to smile or laugh because you knew that in a lifestyle as dark as your families, you needed to keep something lit.

The rest of the drive felt lighter. . . Easier after that small conversation. Even after decades of absence you somehow still managed to put smiles on their faces.Still working hard even in death.

And then Dean pulled into the cemetery and that light and happy feeling he had had moments ago flickered and faded like a dying candle and he could feel his insides slowly beginning to twist as his face dropped. He turned off the engine and barely got two steps from the car before the feeling was too much and it felt like he was being crushed.

“Dean?”

“You know what? On second though this was a terrible idea. Why did we do this? We shouldn’t have done this. Why the fuck did I suggest this?” He quickly rambled, backing towards the car and reaching for the keys again. “Let’s- lets just go home and forget I ever suggested visiting this place-“

The older Winchester didn’t get very far before his brother was letting out a sigh and pushing him forward again. “We drove all this way. You’re not backing out now.”

“Sam-“

“Dude, we both agreed we would do this. Let’s start with just a minute and go from there.”

There was silence for a moment before Dean huffed and stopped resisting his brothers pushing. He felt like a kid again coming back here. Hell the last time he had been here he still was one. Even though they never found a body, their dad was decent enough to pay for a headstone, a place to come back to.

And then they never did.

The cemetery was cool, dew still on the grass as the morning sun began to peak through the trees and light haze. The place was empty except for them. . . Because who visits a cemetery at 6:30 in the morning? Dean sucked in another breath of fresh air, jamming his hands into his pockets despite it growing warmer out as the sun began to rise.

“You know, we probably should have brought mom with us. It’s kinda a dick move on our part to do this and not tell her.” Dean grumbled, eyes already glued on the headstone ahead.

“She’s still on that hunt with Jody. I didn’t really want to bother her.”

“Oh yeah, you’re totally right.” Dean snarked. “Would hate to remind good ol’ mom that her first born has a headstone right next to hers.”

“Why are you being such a dick? You suggested we visit.”

“It’s nothing, Sam. Just drop it.”

Gripping his brothers shoulder suddenly, Sam halted Dean in his tracks. “Nice try. Tell me what’s going on. You were fine ten minutes ago.”

Dean gnawed on the inside of his cheek for a moment before letting another sigh sleep through his lips. “Do you remember that case we worked a few weeks ago with the psycho spirit that caught us?”

“You mean reverend Johnson? Yeah, why?”

“I keep thinking about what he said-“

“Dean, he was a vengeful spirit. He was crazy.” Sam shook his head, dropping his hand from his shoulder. But Dean squeezes his eyes shut as if trying to forget. The words from the reverend still banging around inside his skull. Bad guys really needed to stop it with their monologues.

“What I’ve seen is that the lord provides for those who need it. If you don’t have something, that generally means you don’t need it, or you don’t deserve it.”

At first it had made perfect sense and Dean had just gone with it. He didn’t have his sister because he didn’t deserve to have one.

But then again, by that logic, they didn’t deserve a home when they were younger, and they didn’t deserve to love their sister and be safe. Y/N didn’t deserve her life.

“You’re right.” Dean nodded, in hopes of getting Sam to back off. “You’re right. Dude was crazy. Just hard to get those fuckin words out of my head.” He mumbled, the two of them somehow turning in unison to look at your headstone a few yards away.

It was like the granite slab was staring them both down. The two brothers both afraid to get closer. . . Because to Dean it was like having to face the truth all over again. You were gone. Here reality was set in stone (Pun intended). But then his legs were moving before his brain was and he was kneeling down the wipe the dirt and dust away from your name, calloused fingers smoothing over the engraved letters.

“Why’d you have to go be a hero, huh?” He whispered under his breath, feeling the sudden and familiar sting of on oncoming tears.

He could remember it all so clearly still, how you had thrust your rifle into his hands and quickly tugged on your oversized canvas jacket. How the wind had whipped at your partially pulled up hair when you swung the door to the motel room open. How you told them you’d be back and then never were. Dean wondered if you would still be the same now. Back then he was still too small for his flannels and still wasn’t sure how to aim a gun properly. If you were still alive what would you have looked like now? Would you be taller? Would your hair be longer? . . . And would you have recognized what he and Sam had become?

Would you recognize them at all?

“We shoulda brought flowers or something.” He mumbled, picking the few stray weeds that had grown around the base of the stone. He was fidgeting. He did that when he was uncomfortable.

“We can always go get some. We ain’t too far outside of town.”

Dean mumbled a soft I guess as he rested his chin on his knee, arms looping tightly around his leg as if trying to mimic a hug.

“I think I’m gonna call mom. She would want to be with us for the next stop we make. . . We can always come back here too if she really wants.” Sam spoke up, extending a hand to help pull his brother up.

“Do what you think is right or whatever. I’ll be in the car.” rising to his feet, Dean wiped the dirt from his hands onto the front of his jeans. If he stayed here another minute he was bound to start crying. As He began the trek back through the maze of headstones, his fingers absentmindedly tugged on the piece of fabric on his wrist. The bit of flannel gave him a sense of comfort, because sometimes a bit of cloth could feel like love, and that was all he really wanted right now. It was one of those moments in which he realized how many things he had lost that mattered. Dad. Bobby. Y/N. Sure he had lost mom, but she was back. The rest were still gone.

All he wanted was the chance to see Y/N again, to hear her say I missed you, and I've come home.

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[365days365movies]

January 15, 2021: Casino Royale (2006) (Part 1)

So...we meet again, Bond. What’ve you been doing for the past few years?

...What. Not who, James, WHAT. Jeez.

Whatever. BrosBond had 3 movies after GoldenEye, and they were...not great, from what I’ve heard. Remember, I wasn’t as big of a fan of GoldenEye as many critics and fans were; so, I can’t imagine what I’d think of the latter three. Maybe one day, but not today!

Today, I’m focusing my sights on the revitalization of the brand. See, in 2002, Die Another Day came out, and that movie was apparently crazy. TOO crazy. So crazy, in fact, that audiences and critics accused it of losing the plot, and the production studio in charge (Eon Productions) had a yearning to change direction. And their inspiration came from...a surprising place.

See, Joel Schumacher’s campy, over-the-top Batman films were basically wiped out by Christopher Nolan’s 2005 reinvention of the character in Batman Begins. Which is, in my opinion, a highly underrated classic, Seriously. And in 2005, this film was absolutely a smash-hit. Batman was cool again, which a lot of people never thought would happen in film. Eon saw this, and thought...how can we apply that to Bond?

Out with Brosnan...in with Craig.

The first of the new, darker, reinvented Bond films is planned for release in 2006, starring Daniel Craig as the suave, sophisticated spy. And the director of the film was selected to be...Martin Campbell? From GoldenEye? The guy who kinda sorta started the modern over-the-top Bond? Really? I mean, OK. The writers this time are different...except for one. I didn’t talk about the writers last time because I don’t like putting people on blast if I don’t gotta. This time...maybe. We’ll see.

If this Casino Royale is basically Bond Begins, I’m definitely interested. Maybe this’ll revitalize that Bond-love from the Connery days. Let’s find out! We’re also gonna look at the Bond checklist again!

Gadgets: better have more cool gadgets than GoldenEye, I swear...

Bond Girl: GoldenEye’s Natalya wasn’t bad, to be honest; let’s see who his Inevitable Love Interest is this time.

Villain: Alec Trevelyan had so much potential. I need my dastardly villain, let’s do this. Oh, and let’s throw the henchman in here, too. Xenia Onatopp was...a lot...but she was a memorable henchman, at least.

Music: Of course. GoldenEye’s theme was good, and we’ll see how 2006 does.

OK, movie time. SPOILERS AHEAD!!!

Recap

We start at an office building in Prague, where a man makes his way up to his office. Waiting there for him is, of course, James Bond (Daniel Craig). The man is Dryden, section chief at the British Embassy in Prague, whom M has accused of selling secrets, a big no-no. But Bond...isn’t a double-0 agent. Huh. You got me interested.

Apparently, agents get the two zeroes once they’ve killed two people on file. James hadn’t killed anyone...until recently. Which is when we get this.

OH SHIT

This is an absolutely BRUTAL fight. It’s not choreographed flashily, it’s not pretty...it’s rough. It’s intense. And it’s...oh my God, wow. Made me feel it. And what’s astonishing is that it’s SO short.

On learning this, Dryden tells him not to worry, the second one is...

...YOU GOT ME. I’M IN FOR THE FUCKIN’ RIDE

HOW??? How is it that in 3 minutes of screentime, I’m already more satisfied by Craig’s Bond than I was for the ENTIRETY of GoldenEye? That is masterfully done, right off the bat. WOW. We even get a smooth-as-silk segue into the classic bullet turret sequence, and that takes us right into the song and opening credits. And...wow.

Here’s the thing about Bond openings, as I mentioned last time: they were all directed by one guy up until GoldenEye, and were basically all silhouetted women with themes and scenes from the movie projected around them. The Brosnan movies followed suit, always having silhouetted women in one way or another. Die Another Day used CGI women and...a really bad Madonna song. It was...it is NOT GOOD, guys. Look it up, it’s the most 2002 thing I’ve ever heard.

But here’s the fin bit about Casino Royale. This is the first Bond movie opening with no women in it. Yeah. It’s the first one. And the song is Chris Cornell’s You Know My Name, and it’s good! Not sure it’s going in my soundtrack, though.

Finally, the opening credits sequence itself: it’s once again Daniel Kleinman doing it, and it’s actually inspired by the first James Bond book Casino Royale, which had already had a TV special and unofficial Bond movie made from it! The cover had a playing card motif, and the opening carries over that motif creatively. I really dig it, if I’m honest! Definitely a welcome break from the 44 years of Bond films preceding it.

Uganda! And we meet the villain of this film: Le Chiffre (Mads Mikkelsen). And GODDAMN if that isn’t a Bond villain! He’s a banker, making a deal with a rebel leader, Steven Obanno (Isaach de Bankole), via their liason Mr. White (Jesper Christiensen). Setting up an attack by supplying Obanno with money, he sells his stocks of a company called Skyfleet, knowing that they’re about to fail.

Meanwhile, a ferret’s fighting an Asian species of cobra. In Madagascar. My zoology senses are EXPLODING, OH my God. So much wrong there. Anyway, there’s a bombmaker in the crowd watching the fight. He’s being tailed by Bond and another agent, Carter, who tips off the guy by being a bad spy. Bond chases him to a construction yard. What now, James?

Awesome. Why is this awesome when I said that the tank was dumb? Because at least it makes sense for a bulldozer to go haywire in a construction yard, just sayin’. Plus, this dude clearly isn’t the best, as he fires on construction workers and cops.

Eventually, this chase sequence brings us to the top of a crane, where this exchange happens.

I, uh...I love this movie already. That’s goddamn great.

The chase scene as a whole is also fantastic, as it continues off the bridge and into an abandoned building, then escalates into the streets, brings in law enforcement, and eventually ends with Bond at an embassy, facing down both the military and the bomb maker. He kills the guy, shoots some gas tanks, grabs the bomb, and then gets the hell out of there.

...Y’know what, that was fucking amazing, but he also almost certainly caused an international incident there. And I should be annoyed about that, but guess what! It makes sense! This is an inexperienced Bond, one who’s JUST been promoted to 00 status as 007, as the prologue explained. So, y’know what? I’m into it!

Cut to a yacht, like you do in a Martin Campbell Bond film. There, we have our villain, Le Chiffre, playing a card game. Also, he weeps blood. Yeah. HE WEEPS BLOOD.

OK, if that isn’t some Bond villain shit, I don’t know WHAT is. He’s also asthmatic, because I love it. I love it so much. He’s a mathematically-brilliant asthmatic that weeps blood. More, please. 

He’s also a person aware of what Bond did at the embassy, as it’s already become an international incident! Thank you for showing consequences, movie! Damn! I love it! This has two additional consequences. One, Le Chiffre notes that the code “Ellipsis” used by the bomber may be soon to expire, indicating a connection between the two. And the second consequence? M’s pissed.

M! DAME JUDI DENCH! One of my favorite things about GoldenEye was bringing in Judi Dench as M, and she made it through the reboot! And she’s still as entertaining as she was before, calling Bond out for his stupidity, and explaining that she misses the Cold War.

In her apartment, M does her normal exposition schtick, and her interactions with Bond are fantastic here. She’s understandably angry at him, and gives him what for, but she’s also clearly impressed that he FIGURED OUT WHERE SHE LIVES, as well as her REAL NAME. Shows her opinion of Bond and aspects of Bond’s character in a single, masterful stroke. 

Well. Goddamn. Done.

The Bahamas! Bond’s here to find Alex Dimitrios (Simon Abkarian), a Greek businessman who’s believed to have a connection with Le Chiffre himself. And, as James Bond is wont to do, he finds him at a party, playing cards. And here’s where the reinvention of Bond comes full circle.

See, Bond’s doing all the typical Bond things, yeah. But there are some differences present here, as well as some neat nuances. Bond isn’t wearing the suit, first of all. He actually hasn’t worn a suit the whole movie, which makes perfect sense for a spy. Suits aren’t exactly the least conspicuous thing in the world; bound to get you noticed if you don’t want to be.

And then, there’s the girl. This is Solange Dimitrios (Catherina Murino), the wife of Alex who was treated BADLY by him at the party. That gives her a reason to take Bond’s offer for a ride to his place, outside of just his raw animalistic charm that he seems to have in some of these movies. Look at that, already more chemistry than he had with Natalya in GoldenEye.

And yes, this results in her cheating on Alex. Is her cheating justified from a moral standpoint? No, of course it isn’t. And of course, this leads to the typical Bond-handsome-sex-GOOD sequence, but again, some nuance here! First of all, he doesn’t win her over with corny clever lines, like what we saw in GoldenEye multiple ties. Second, this is actually all an attempt to get some infomation from her about her husband. Bond might be enjoying it, but his womanizing here actually has a purpose. And that’s rare!

That’s further punctuated by the fact that he STRAIGHT UP LEAVES BEFORE ANYTHING HAPPENS. Yeah, she tells him that Alex just made his way to Miami, and he leaves! Dick move, yeah, but it makes sense! James isn’t here for pleasure, he’s here for work!

He follows Alex to a Bodies at Work exhibit (you know, the preserved and skinned cadavers put into poses that used to tour around the USA? I saw it in Times Square at the end of its popularity. A little ghoulish, maybe, but I think it’s pretty cool), where the two of them get in a very tense close-up knife fight in public.

Alex is dead, but not before passing off a package to someone else at the exhibition. Bond tails the guy to Miami International Airport, where the largest airplane in the world is set to be unveiled. Using the code sent to the bombers, Bond gets into the back, and goes to intercept the disguised bomber who’s set to blow up the SkyChonk (I mean it, that giant airplane is THICCC).

Time for another cool chase sequence! Some luggage is destroyed, along with a bus, the cops join in on the chase, an airplane is prevented from landing (making someone on that plane probably very upset), and Bond somehow manages to prevent the plane from blowing up. And it’s by the SKIN of his teeth, lemme tell you. Also, he blows up a dude with his own flashlight bomb.

Nice. Somehow, Bond isn’t arrested, and makes his way back to the Bahamas. And it looks like Solange isn’t the Bond girl after all. Because she was thought to be the information leak (which she was, to an extent), she was tortured to death. Whoof.

M’s in the Bahamas now, and the exposition continues. She’s done with Bond’s bullshit, and she plants a tracker under his skin. She explains that with the big boi plane destroyed, somebody stood a lot to gain financially from the stock crash to come. Except that the plane wasn’t destroyed, and that person lost $100 million by “betting the wrong way.”

That person, of course, was Le Chiffre, a manthematical genius and chess prodigy, who plays poker for fun, and plays the stock market with his clients’ money. Bond’s the best poker player in MI6 (a good addition that we already saw foreshadowed earlier! See what I mean?), and she’s sending him to a high stakes poker game that Le Chiffre’s looking to regain his money from. 

Bond FINALLY dons his suit, and gets on a train in Montenegro, where he meets...

Vesper Lynd (Eva Green). THERE’S our Bond girl! Although, there’s a reference to Miss Moneypenny in their introduction, which is interesting. But Vesper is an agent for the British Treasury, supplying the money for the buy-in for the tournament. And their conversation on the train...wow. Now THIS is chemistry, seriously.

Vesper’s a great character, and she gives Bond NO quarter. She reads his character, and calls him out very accurately. They also explain why both Bond and Vesper are good at poker: it’s all about reading people. I’m genuinely impressed by how this movie is put together, and how well-thought out Bond is as a character. And this is the dimension I love to see in a Bond girl as well!

GODDAMN, I am in love with this movie. More coming in Part 2!

[lakesandquarries]

Jump the Fence Part Two: Ghost Out Of His Grave

chapter one: ghost in your house

summary: Benrey and Gordon adapt to living together. Some days are better than others.

notes: series title from “jump the fence” by mother mother. this part and the chapters within it are named after “ghosting” by mother mother. this chpater may seem familiar! i technically posted it before but i’m reuploading since it’s now part of a series.

AO3 link

It’s early when Gordon wakes up. Or late, depending on how you look at it. The sky outside is dark, with a faint glow that means the sun is about to rise. When he looks at his alarm clock it reads just past 6:30

If he really wanted, he could go back to sleep. But Benrey was acting weird last night, and Gordon was a little... concerned. Benrey had only been living with Gordon for a few days but he had gotten a decent idea of what they were like. Last night, he’d been all...jumpy, distracted, quiet. He’d barely spoken to Gordon, hadn’t eaten, didn’t even seem interested in the Mario game he was playing. Gordon had watched him fail the same stage 4 times in a row. 

He’s not worried about them. It’s just, when your roommate is some kind of eldritch horror, you gotta pay attention when they seem off. 

Gordon stumbles out of his room with eyes still bleary, glasses clutched in one hand, and almost walks straight into Benrey. “You’re up early,” he says, rubbing his eyes until his vision comes into focus. Benrey looks slightly dazed, standing in the middle of the living room with...hold on. 

“Is that my backpack?”

“Uhhhhhhhh. Nope.”

“Don’t fuckin lie to me, man, that’s mine. What’re you doing with it?”

Benrey just keeps staring. Their pupils are huge in the dim lighting, round like a cats. They have the same weird glow, too. Gordon squints his eyes at them, folding his arms. Finally, they say, “I was just gonna leave.”

Oh, goddamnit. “Dude, it’s 6 am. Where exactly are you planning on going?”

“Uh. Y’know. Out.”

“I don’t know, actually,” Gordon says. He’s trying his best to keep his tone even, but he can’t help the bit of anger that slips out. What the fuck is Benrey playing at here?

Benrey sings a bubble of pale gray sweet voice, followed by an assortment of clear. Fuck, Gordon wishes he knew what that meant. He’ll have to ask Tommy later. Benrey is still quiet otherwise, and Gordon sighs. “Benrey,” he says, gentler. “What’s going on?”

Benrey huffs, looking away and adjusting his hat. “’m sick of waiting,” they mumble, barely intelligible. 

“W - Waiting for what?”

The perpetual shadow over his eyes seems to get darker, somehow. “Y’know,” they say again, and this time Gordon explodes.

“I don’t! I don’t know fucking anything because you won’t talk to me! All you do is sit around playing video games and being fucking cryptic and now you’re trying to sneak out at 6 in the goddamn morning!”  His fists have found their way into his hair, gripping tightly. 

More of those clear bubbles slip out, then black to a dark red. “I’m n - I’m not supposed to be here,” Benrey says, voice flat. “I’m - you killed me.”

Gordon winces at the reminder. “Yeah, well, you got my arm chopped off, so -”

“‘m not mad,” they add quickly. “‘s just how things had to go. But, uh, I’m not…” he trails off, making an obnoxious lip smacking noise. “I don’t have my passport for this area.”

Gordon sighs. “Since when do you care?”

“Mmb,” Benrey says. “Uhhhh.” More of the red bubbles. “Why’re you so mad about this?”

“Why am I mad about you trying to leave in the middle of the night?”

“Yeah. I thought you, uh, hated me and everything.”

“I -” Gordon sighs, rubbing his temples. Yelling’s not gonna help here, if he wants to understand what the hell is happening. He forces his voice to sound calm, or at least as calm as he can manage. Deep breaths, he thinks, his new mantra when dealing with Benrey. “It’s more complicated than that, man.” Honestly, he doesn’t hate Benrey as much as he used to. He doesn’t like him, but…he’s not the worst roommate, and he’s a lot less antagonistic now. He’s followed all of Gordon’s rules and been almost a non-presence in the house.  “I mean, we’ve never even talked about…everything.”

“I got your arm chopped off,” Benrey says. 

“Yeah, and I’m still pissed about that. But you haven’t done anything like that here.” 

“Sooo can I go now?”

“What? No!” God, he’s exhausting to talk to. “Why do you wanna leave?”

He smacks his lips again, looking at the floor. “‘s easier than waiting to get kicked out,” they say. 

Gordon rubs his temples again. “I’m not gonna kick you out -”

Benrey looks up at him, eyes narrowed. “You - I - you’re the, the main character. I’m the uh…the bad guy. Duh,” and then he starts humming what Gordon thinks is supposed to be Bad Guy by Billie Eilish. “Right? You beat me. Kill the bad guy, win the game. But now, uh…shit’s all fuck. Bad guy respawned.” He shoots Gordon a wry, tired smile. “So, game’s not over, right? Game, uh….new stage. But you, you’re still the good guy. Fucking, little plumber man Mario. Princess is in another castle, gotta beat Bowser again. Just cause it’s a new stage doesn’t mean Mario and Bowser are gonna be bros. Right?”

He’s about to yell at Benrey for not making any sense when it clicks. “Are - do you think I’m gonna try to kill you again?”

Benrey shrugs, looking away, pulling his hat down over his face.

“Benrey,” Gordon says, trying his best to sound gentle. “I’m not - I only killed you cause you were trying to kill me! I said I wasn’t gonna try to kill you again!”

“I wasn’t actually gonna do it,” Benrey mutters. He shoves his hands in his pockets, hunching over.

“Then why the hell were you shooting at me!” Gordon yells, nearly hitting himself with his wild gesturing.

Benrey lets out a snort, almost a laugh but too…tired. Almost sad, if that’s an emotion Benrey can actually feel. “Game’s gotta have a villain,” he says.

“Stop being fucking cryptic and just say what you mean for once,” Gordon demands. “You were trying to kill me. You got my arm cut off. Why?”

Benrey sighs. “Game’s gotta have a villain,” he repeats. “Doesn’t matter if...if Bowser wants to fuckin, uh, become a chef or something. He’s gotta kidnap the princess. Even if he spends the whole game hanging out with Mario, he’s still…he’s still the bad guy.”

It’s not really any more comprehensible, but, well, that's Benrey. Gordon doesn’t think it’s physically possible for him to be straightforward. The meaning is clear enough, anyway.

“”So you...didn’t wanna be the villain?”

They shrug, trying so hard to seem casual and uncaring, but their expression gives it away. There’s a glint in their eyes, a spark that’s usually missing. 

“So then what was with everything else? If you didnt wanna be the villain why were you such an asshole the whole time?”

“Thought it’d be easier.” Their shoulders tense up, eyes softening. Maybe sad is an emotion Benrey feels. Maybe Gordon’s been wrong all this time. “Be hard to kill someone you like, right? You’d do something stupid.”

“So, what, you got my arm cut off so I’d be mad at you? I was pissed before that.”

“I didn’t think they were gonna fuck you up that bad. And it wasn’t - it wasn’t s’pposed to be real.” Yellow eyes dart around, looking at anything but Gordon.

“The fuck does that mean?”

“It was just a game. It wasn’t real. You’re just, you were just some dude playing a video game, right? When Mario gets punched it’s like, whatever. The guy playing doesn’t care. If he gets punched enough though maybe he’ll just like...give up. Bowser gets to, uh, release the princess and go fuck around. I didn’t...'s supposed to just be a game over when Mario gets beat up. Load save.”

“And what about the boss shit at the end? Where you were, y’know, trying to kill me?”

A flicker of emotion flashes over Benrey’s face, before he goes back to his usual deadpan stare. “Uhhhhhh. Bow -”

Gordon shakes his head, “No, no more of that fucking Mario metaphor. Just - can you just talk like a normal person for five minutes?”

“Nah.”

Gordon wants to tear his hair out. He pinches his nose, taking a deep breath, and then another, until he feels like he can speak without trying to beat the shit out of Benrey. “Just. Answer the question. Why did you try to kill me?”

“I don’t remember?”

“Are you fucking with me right now?”

“No!” Benrey says, something close to offense in his voice, like he's actually hurt Gordon doesn’t believe him, but then he drops right back into that tired tone he usually has. “It was all...fuzzy. TV static, but like, in my head? And nothing, uh, nothing was like….real. I just….” he shrugs, picking at his nails. “‘I’m just vibing, bro.” Gordon takes another deep breath, cleaning his fists and preparing to say something, but Benrey presses on. “I tried to turn back. Before we went in, I told you, we had to go back. You didn’t listen.”

“Of course I didn’t listen!” He throws his arms up in the air in sheer exasperation. “You’d been saying nothing but bullshit up until then! How do I know this isn’t more bullshit, huh? How do I know you’re not just - trying to get me to let my guard down, so you can actually kill me?”

Benrey makes a low noise, accompanied by a handful of brownish-blue bubbles. “‘m not,” he mutters. “I didn’t - I don’t wanna be bad.” The shadow over his eyes is black now, the yellow of his eyes unsettlingly dim. 

“Then why not fucking say something?”

“Couldn’t.” 

Gordon raises an eyebrow. “And why’s that?”

“It’s like - uh -” They smack their lips again. “Like a fucking, uh, dam. The thing beavers make. Beaver can’t get through.”

At least he’s dropped the Mario metaphor. “Okay. So. Let me recap. You…didn’t want to be the villain, you were trying to get me to...quit? And when that didn’t work, you intentionally pissed me off so I’d kill you at the end ‘cause you couldn’t actually say what was going on.”

“Basically, yeah.”

Well, fuck. When Gordon says it out loud like that it’s…actually kinda sad. 

No. No! He’s not gonna start feeling bad for fucking Benrey of all people. Gordon balls his fists, pushing down every stupidly sympathetic emotion he’s having. “Okay. Let’s backtrack a bit. Why are you telling me all this?”

Benrey shrugs. “Got tired of waiting for you to kill me.”

“I already said, I’m not -”

Benrey glitches. His face disappears for a second, replaced by a cracked and decayed skull, and then suddenly he’s normal again. A shriek tears its way out of Gordon as he backs away from them, almost slamming into the wall. For a second he’s back in Xen, watching Benrey’s massive form glitch and deform, and then he shakes his head and reminds himself that he’s in his apartment and Benrey is at least the size of a human being. “What the hell was that?”

“How come you don’t believe me but I’m supposed to believe you? Huh? Gordon got trust issues? Gordon skeptic man?”

“I think I’ve got more than enough reasons to have fucking trust issues, man!” He’s still pressed against the wall, hands curling into fists. 

“But Benrey’s gotta trust you. Benrey’s not allowed to be scared.”

“Are you saying you’re fucking afraid of me?”

Benrey’s Sweet Voice is high pitched and vaguely dark, like a bubble made of shadows. Gordon can’t translate, but it feels like a yes.

“You know what? I think I’m okay with that.” Gordon peels himself off the wall, stepping closer to Benrey, holding out his prosthetic hand. “Now you get how I felt the entire fucking time we were in Black Mesa.”

The bubbles get darker, a deep, almost dripping black. “‘m sorry,” Benrey mumbles.

Gordon blinks. “What?”

They repeat themself, louder this time. “I’m sorry. For. Uh. Everything?”

The only thing Gordon can think to say is, “What the fuck?”

“I’m tryna be nice!” Benrey says. He’s pouting. Like a little kid or some shit. “It’s called an apology, bro.”

“I know what a fucking apology is! I just wasn’t expecting one from you, of all people!”

“I don’t wanna be bad,” Benrey says quietly. “Can I go now?”

“What?” Fuck, with everything else they’ve been...arguing about, Gordon forgot this whole thing started because Benrey was trying to leave. “No!”

Benrey opens his mouth, looking like he’s about to say something, but all that comes out is Sweet Voice. A lot of Sweet Voice. Black to red, gray to clear, dripping black, translucent dark, swirling around him until Gordon can’t even see Benrey under all the bubbles. When they fade...Benrey’s still standing there, and he’s crying.

Gordon’s never seen him cry before.

“I don’t wanna be bad,” Benrey says again. “This was supposed to be my chance to be not bad.” They scrub at their eyes, turning away from Gordon. “This - this is sucks.”

Fuck.

He doesn’t want to feel bad. He doesn’t want to feel sympathetic. Benrey spent the entire time they were in Black Mesa trying to fuck with Gordon, and a few tears don’t erase that.

But.

“I believe you,” Gordon says. Benrey turns back around.

“Wha?”

“I believe you,” Gordon says again. “That you didn’t wanna...do everything that you did.” He pauses, closing his eyes for a second. “And - I’m sorry too.”

Benrey stares. Does not blink. Continues to not blink as the silence drags on, until Gordon feels like he has to say something else.

“I kinda...assumed you were a piece of shit from the beginning. Didn’t really give you a chance, I guess. So. I’m sorry for all of that, and for the whole, killing you thing.”

“You don’t gotta apologize for that,” Benrey mumbles. He’s still not blinking, eyes wide. “Uh. Thanks.” 

“And - if you really wanna leave…” Gordon sighs. He still doesn’t trust Benrey, not in the way he trusts Tommy and Dr. Coomer and even Bubby. But. “I’m not gonna stop you.”

“If I stay are you gonna…be less mad? Less Gordon Angy Momence?”

“I’ll - I’ll try.”

“I, uh. I think I’ll stay.”

“I’m gonna -” Fuck, he’d been planning on getting up before this. He’d been all ready to start his day. Yeah, fuck that. “I’m gonna go back to sleep.”

“Gordon sleepman,” Benrey says, nodding his head. He taps his fingers together. “Hey,” he says, holding his hands up. “You wanna. Uh. Hug?”

He’s not even gonna try to understand what’s happening now. “You know what? Sure.” He steps forward and lets Benrey wrap his arms around him, and after a moment, wraps his around them. It’s…not entirely unpleasant. Benrey is a good bit shorter than Gordon, so with them leaning in against his chest he ends up with his head perched on theirs, hat scratching his chin a bit. Benrey’s arms are thick and strong, and the way he’s holding Gordon should be terrifying but somehow it’s not.

He steps back after a minute, scrubbing at his face again. “Cool. Uh. Poggers,” Benrey says, and Gordon rolls his eyes but he’s smiling a little despite himself. 

“Good - well, it’s not night anymore, but. You get the idea. I’m gonna go pass out.”

“Cool,” Benrey says again. 

Gordon stumbles back into his room, collapsing into bed. It’s the most peaceful sleep he’s had since before Black Mesa.

sweet voice translations:

gray to clear: i shouldn’t be here

black to red: i should be dead

dirty blue: i don’t wanna hurt you

dark like the shade: i’m afraid

black and tarry: i’m sorry

[mybunnyparadenme]

(This is my edgy blog btw) Ship: bunny duh Prompts: 3, 11, and 12 I couldn’t choose so you can pick one if you don’t want to do them all!

Sorry it took me so long! I managed to combine all three prompts and here’s the result! Hope you like it~

#2 Things you said too quietly/#11 Things you said when you were drunk/#12 things you said when you thought i was asleep

Kenny couldn't think of a better way to spend a Friday night. He and Butters were hanging out in Butters' bedroom, listening to sugary sweet pop music and drinking McDonald's iced coffees that Kenny had picked up on the way over. They weren't drinking just any iced coffee though. Butters had nicked a bottle of Kahlua from his parent's liquor cabinet, and the two of them had been adding it into their coffees all night. Kenny already had a good buzz going, and Butters had just gone past that judging by how loud he was talking.

"You can't hog it all, Ken!" Butters pouted, reaching for the bottle with grabby hands. "Give it here!"

"Dude you've had more than me by now." Kenny said, laughing when Butters pouted even harder. He handed it over easily though, Butters deserved a night to let as loose as he wanted.

Instead of pouring more into his drink, Butters brought it straight to his lips and swallowed down several mouthfuls before he pulled it back with a grimace. "Oh that's strong!"

"You should've mixed it with your coffee!"

"It's pretty much all Kahlua at this point." Butters said, swishing around the contents in his half empty cup. It was much darker now than when Kenny had presented it to him. He looked up and gave Kenny a wild grin. "Besides, I can handle it. Waterin' it down is for pussies!

Kenny laughed again, the full kind of laugh that only happened when you were drunk enough that every little thing became the funniest thing you ever heard. He was so glad Stephen and Linda were going to be gone until tomorrow afternoon. The two of them could enjoy this time without having to worry about getting caught with pilfered liquor. Speaking of being caught though... "Okay, so how grounded do you think you'd be if your parents walked in right now?"

"Um." Butters paused, looking worried for a split second downing the remainder of his drink. He shook his head and raised his fist in the air with a shout, "I don't know and I don't care! You're looking at a guy who doesn't give a fuck about getting grounded!"

"Holy shit, drunk you is a badass." Kenny said, a slow smile forming on his face. He felt more attracted to Butters in this moment than he ever had before, but then again being attracted to Butters wasn't really new to him. Still, he couldn't deny Butters saying he didn't care about getting grounded was really fucking hot. He grabbed the bottle of Kahlua, hoping a strong shot would clear his thoughts, and found that it was almost empty. "Damn, we almost finished the whole thing, Butters. We're gonna have to fill it up with something before your folks come back."

"Do we have to?" Butters asked, his eyebrows furrowing together. "They get enough from me already, fuck them and fuck their booze!"

"Hell yeah, fuck those tyrants!" Kenny said, but mentally he told himself to brew some coffee and vodka together later. As much as he loved this new side of Butters, there was no way he was letting Butters get grounded into oblivion over one night of fun.

"And if they try anything we could run away together!" Butters said, looking excited now. His eyes were bright and dreamy. "That would really show 'em. Ooh, we could really piss them off and leave a note sayin' we went to Vegas and are getting married!"

"Huh?!" Kenny had been about to tip the rest of his iced coffee into his mouth, but hearing that last bit shocked him so much he ended up spilling it all over his sweater.

Like a light switch flicking off, Butters' bravado fell away into concern. "Oh no, I'm sorry for getting so carried away and startlin' you Kenny! We gotta get that sweater in the wash before the stain sets in."

"It's... it's not that bad." Kenny murmured, hoping the heat rising to his cheeks looked more like a drunken flush. "I can just rinse it off in the sink when I go home."

"And catch your death of cold? Uh-uh, we're getting that cleaned right away. Give it here." Butters leaned over and started to lift it off of Kenny's body.

It took his alcohol addled brain a minute to realize that Butters was actually undressing him right now. Kenny couldn't help the long 'nice' that went through his mind as the sweater went over his head, but immediately afterwards their eyes locked and the full awkwardness of the situation finally hit them. Kenny's arms were over his head and tangled up in his sweater's sleeves, Butters' nose an inch away from his. He was close enough to a kiss...

"Oh sweet Mary." Butters breathed as he pulled back, his cheeks blazing. "I-I'm sorry, I shouldn't've done that."

"No big deal!" Kenny quickly reassured him, his heart was slamming against his ribcage. He slipped his sweater the rest of the way off and held it out in front of him, keeping his eyes locked on the ground. "Here."

"Thank you!" Butters squeaked, standing up way too fast. He swayed on his feet, but managed to stay upright. "Y-You can go ahead and grab one of my shirts while I get this washed okay?"

"Okay, I will. Thanks." Kenny said, standing up awkwardly. He felt so exposed without his sweater, goosebumps rising all over his arms. He could feel Butters eyes on him even without looking up.

"I'll be back soon!" Butters said before bolting out of the room.

Kenny let himself wallow in embarrassment for a few seconds, but then the cold got to him and he made his way over to the dresser on the other side of the room. He picked the first long-sleeved shirt on, a pale green one that smelled like citrus detergent. His heart skipped a beat when he recognized it as the scent that always seemed to cling to Butters' skin. He brought the sleeve up to his nose and inhaled deeply, then buried his face in his hands when he realized what he was doing. The alcohol, he blamed this on the alcohol.

A few minutes later Butters came back into the room, still looking a little flustered. "O-Okay, it'll be ready in a little while."

"Cool." Kenny said from his spot on the bed. The tension was still thick between them, and it was high time they brought the mood back to what it was before. He put on an exaggerated grin and casually asked, "So what'd you think of my tiddies? They were pretty great right?"

"Oh my god!" Butters giggled, all of his nervousness fading away as he laughed. He let himself sink onto the bed next to Kenny, their shoulders brushing casually. "My honest opinion? They were a little flat for my tastes.

"You wound me, Butters." Kenny sighed, placing a hand over his heart dramatically.

"But I thought your freckles were neat. I never realized these were an all-over thing." Butters said, tapping the tip of Kenny's nose.

"Yeah, they... they're usually hidden underneath my clothes." Kenny said, his heart leaping at that easy touch. He hoped it wasn't just the Kahlua making him do that.

"You should show them off more often." Butters smiled at him. He said the next part softly, almost too low to hear. "They're really cute on you."

Cute? Butters thought he was cute? Kenny chewed the inside of his cheek, fighting back the smile that was threatening to give away how happy hearing that made him. Holy shit, Butters Stotch thought he was cute!

"I feel like dancin', don't you Ken?" Butters asked, as he rose to his feet again. He moved over to his nightstand where his phone was still playing pop songs. "Pick something fun for us to dance to!"

"Uhhhh, play some Katy Perry!" Kenny blurted out as he stood up too. "The earlier the better!"

"Got it!"

A minute later the two of them were belting out lyrics about getting hitched in Vegas, laughing and jumping around so much that Kenny was sure the floor was going to collapse underneath them. The room was spinning and the Kahlua and coffee mixture was sloshing around in his stomach, but Kenny felt better than he had in a while just being here with Butters. He always felt better when they were together.

They danced for half a dozen songs, shouting gibberish when they forgot the lyrics or just plain didn't know them in the first place. They were out of breath by the time they shut the music off and fell onto the bed in a tangle of limbs, giggling from both exhaustion and the alcohol still coursing through their bodies. Butters had a smile so wide his cheeks had to hurt.

"That was a lot of fun, Kenny." Butters said, reaching up to brush Kenny's hair from his sweaty forehead. His eyes were shining. "Thanks for coming over today."

"Thanks for inviting me." Kenny said, leaning into the touch with a sigh. "Hanging out with you is the best."

"Yeah?" Butters closed his eyes, a sleepy smile forming on his face. "I feel the same. You're my best friend, you know."

Had he known that? Kenny thought back to all the time they spent together, just the two of them. They were close definitely but... best friends? God that was freaking profound. Was that just the alcohol talking? Would Butters even remember saying it in the morning? God he wanted Butters to remember this.

"Butters do you-" He started, only to cut himself off when he saw that Butters' eyes were closed, his breathing even like he was fast asleep. He reached up and waved his hand in front of his face, holding his breath until Butters' eyes fluttered open.

"Mm? What is it, Ken?" Butters murmured, his eyes soft with slowly fading consciousness.

"You meant it right?" Kenny swallowed down the nervousness from earlier that threatened to steal his words away. God his eyes were the palest shade of blue. He wanted to tell Butters how beautiful they looked.

It was silent for a moment, long enough for Kenny to worry that Butters had fallen asleep with his eyes open, but then he reached up and patted his cheek softly. "'Course I meant it. You're my sunshine guy."

Kenny wanted to melt into this moment. Butters' fingers were warm on his heated face, and surprisingly rough with callouses. Probably from all the chores his parents had him do, but it was comforting all the same. Butters eyes drifted shut, and without the eye contact Kenny felt brave enough to reach up and place his own hand on top of his. He could feel his whole body relax as this quiet moment stretched on, and sleep started to overtake his consciousness. Just before he drifted off, he let himself murmur, "You're my best friend too Butters... light of my life. I love you so much."

He was asleep before he could hear the soft gasp that followed his confession.

[gooddadstan]

The first story in my Batman Bingo 2020 writing! For the card above, Red is completed, and blue is requested. Another huge thanks to @batmanbingo2020 for making it! Feel free to ask for a prompt!

 1.Sleep Deprivation 

Arkham breakouts were bad. Rogue level breakouts were really bad. Gotham knew it, the bats knew it, even the Justice League knew it, if just from the strict instructions to not call on any bat within three days of returning all escapees to their cells. With a necessary exception of world ending circumstances, no matter how much everyone hated it. 

Unfortunately, these were world ending circumstances. 

According to the clock on the Batcomputer, it hadn’t even been an hour since they started the Do Not Call countdown in the Watchtower’s systems. Far too early for the emergency transmission to send alarms blaring through every bat-associated device the house.

Clicking the button for the video call to patch through, they’re met with a disheveled looking Flash with a grim expression on his face, no other leaguers in sight. 

“What.” The growl had been forming during the small loading period, but the Flash didn’t waver in his stance. 

When he speaks just a second later, it’s sped up as much as he trusts the bats to understand. “Batman, the League needs your help. Send all available backup, you’ll meet Justice League Dark at the site..” He rattles off a set of coordinates and is gone again, the trail of his image heading off in the direction of the Zetas. 

Batman scans over his children, the wounds both new and days old being nursed in the medbay and the bodies flopped onto any surface they deemed comfortable enough to sleep on. More than half of them were just lying down on the floor, which, okay, but they’re children of a billionaire, they’re supposed to have standards. Apparently these standards don’t involve not sleeping on the floor in full vigilante gear. 

Tim, looking up from his designated spot on the next chair over, makes very pointed eye contact with Bruce. A simple nod is all that meets him. Already mourning the loss of a relaxing afternoon filled with cartoons, sleep, and lots of food, he pulls up the League’s initial reports on the issue. The burning behind his eyes was a later Tim problem. There’s not much there, but he sets to work as Bruce rises to call the others to action. 

~^~^~

Maybe Dick going on this world-saving escapade was a bad idea. Yeah, he kicked some ass, and yeah, he was the one to actually get his hands on the device that let the world-enders of the week wreak their havoc, but he kinda feels like his legs are going to drop out from under him and it may or may not have been four days since he last slept. Sue him, it was a rogue-level Arkham breakout. Measures had to be taken. Caffeine pill measures. 

And if those measures ended up with him more spaced out than present during the after-victory conversation with the Titans, well, it’s not like he hasn’t done worse to himself in the past. 

And no, bad Dick, that’s neither a healthy nor productive way of thinking. He forces himself to focus back in on what Wally was saying, only to see that the entire circle he was in was looking at him with various concerned expressions. Wally had placed a hand on his shoulder. Huh. Dick didn’t remember that happening. 

“Dude, are you okay? We’ve been calling your name for at least a minute and a half.” He doesn’t even bother hiding the concern in his voice, which, fine, it is Wally, but Dick’s torn between wanting to yell at him for putting himself in unnecessary danger during the fight, and just wanting to go eat enough carbs to kill an elephant. “How long have you even been awake?” Oh, he must have given up on reality for another second there, because Wally decided it was time to talk again. This time, Dick was pretty sure he was collected within himself enough to answer. Maybe. 

Pulling one hand up to rub at his face and almost, almost hitting his own nose in the process, Dick finally opens his mouth. “Since the breakout started. So… a hundred n’ twenty-six hours? Somethin’ like that.” 

Wally closes his eyes extremely pointedly, and opens them to make direct eye contact with both hands on Dick’s shoulders. “Dick. You are going to go home, and you are going to sleep. Do you need someone to be there for you?” The caring is familiar, but it still sends warmth through his chest after all these years.  

“Yeah. To the manor?” 

“To the manor.” In less than a second, Wally’s arms are around him in a familiar hold, and he’s being hoisted up into the air. By the time Wally sets him down on his bed in the manor, he’s asleep. 

~^~^~

“Tim.” Kon takes one look at Tim after they finish the battle, and immediately goes from grinning manically as he punches villains into the ground to hovering in front of Tim and calling Cassie and Bart. 

“Yes, Kon?” He ignores the fact that he can feel the concern and disappointment in Kon’s gaze, and focuses on the wrist computer projection of the rapidly lowering energy readings in the area. 

“Tim.” And oh, this was going to be an Actual Conversation now. Tim looks up from his projection, unsurprised that Cassie and Bart are both already there. When Kon’s satisfied by the level of eye contact, he speaks again. “Tim, did you sleep at all during that breakout?” 

Tim spends less than a second debating with himself before shrugging. “I got knocked out at one point. Killer Croc doesn’t exactly pull his punches.” Watching the looks going his way grow slightly darker wasn’t foreign, at this point, but the curl of uncomfortability in his gut could probably be blamed on exhaustion at this point. 

“Tim. Buddy. That started four days ago. Were you checked for a concussion?” It’s Bart that speaks this time, having appeared behind Tim’s back to place one hand down and try to guide him towards some rubble that looks vaguely chair-height. Tim doesn’t move. 

A small sigh escaping his lips, Tim shakes his head and stands his ground. “Yes, it did start four days ago, and no, I’m not concussed. World ending circumstances override our protocol. I’m fine.” 

Tim’s pretty sure if any of Young Justice had a say in it, he’d be at home asleep already, because even he could admit (to himself) that maybe he’s not entirely fine. Unfortunately for them, and fortunately for Tim, he thinks, Tim is technically their leader so they can’t kick him out. Probably. He notes to check if they can kick him out for lack of self care and moves on. 

The next thing he knows, he’s yelping and scrambling for handholds as the ground disappears beneath him. “What the shit, Kon?” From his awkward half-dangling place, he can see Cassie fly up to meet them, Bart in her arms. 

He’s shifted to a slightly more secure hold, but it’s painfully clear that if he makes a move to leave Kon’s arms or if Kon drops him, he would be in for a decidedly Not Fun Time. So they’re trying to coerce him. Threaten him? Maybe both. 

“Dude, you’re even glitching. Take a nap or something.” Bart shouts at him from maybe five feet away, which is unnecessary, but Tim appreciates the effort to account for possible wind. If only there was any more than none. 

“Seriously, you’re spacey and clearly exhausted. You didn’t note anything from those readings until the third rotation, you’re not exactly keeping up with the field work. I could even take you over to the farm or your apartment or something if you don’t want to go back to the cave. But find somewhere to go pass out.” And okay, fine, Kon might be right about the readings. But he can’t just leave- 

“Nobody’ll fault you for leaving dude.” Tim immediately curses Bart and his uncanny ability to understand Tim’s anxieties. 

“And if anyone does, then we’ll make sure to have a little chat.” He can almost hear the sound of Cassie’s fist hitting her palm, and as much as he wants to accept… 

“Thanks guys, really, but I need to keep up on my own responsibilities.” His tone his regretful, and he really can’t leave the rest of his family without warning. 

“Tim, you’re our responsibility, so go home and take a nap.” And Kon is not allowed to make sense when Tim’s this tired anymore. But, ever the adamant one, Tim opens his mouth to speak again. “I-“ 

“Tim, go home.” It’s simultaneous, and manages to effectively shut Tim up.

Heaving one last exasperated sigh, Tim accepts. “Fine, just drop me off at the nearest Zeta.” 

Kon gets that manic grin on his face again, and Tim’s internal monologue consists entirely of ‘oh no’. “I can do you one better.” Tim is going to get murdered. “Gotham, here we come!” 

~^~^~

Bruce was still fighting as his GPS reported family leaving the area. He felt like his limbs were moving like slugs, his eyes were burning with every blink, and every little noise sent waves of rage through his very soul, but he was still fighting. The last of today’s havoc wreakers were still raring to go, and where evil stands, the Justice League rises to meet them. 

As one final punch sends his last opponent to the containment area, Bruce lets his shoulders slump. The past few days have been unbearably long, and he just wants to sleep for a week wherever he can find a horizontal surface. His kids might have the right idea about the floor, at this point. His wounds are throbbing, he can feel his mind succumbing to exhaustion, and he just wants to rest. For once. He should extend the protocol before the next breakout. 

Clark touches down next to him, and he immediately braces for a complaint about something, even though this is Clark, and he’s pretty sure Clark hasn’t complained about a thing in his life. Or maybe he just really needs to sleep. Despite all his training, it’s hard to tell. 

“Batman. I think it’s time you took a rest. You’ve had some long days.” There’s a kind pressing in his voice. 

Bruce suppresses a growl, though he’s sure Clark can hear what escapes from his throat. “I can continue.” 

“But you don’t need to. Batman, the kids you brought are already gone, you’re the only one here. Hood and Robin are home with broken bones, you’re needed there more than here.” He smiles, and lowers his voice. “Go home, Bruce, rest up. We’ll see you for the meeting next week.” He takes off, nothing but a gust of wind that aggravates the burning sensation in his eyes. 

An hour later, Bruce is pulling himself out of the Batmobile and shedding his suit. As he turns the corner to the main area of the cave, he’s met with his children, huddled together asleep and surrounded by blankets and pillows. A small smile creeps onto his face, the warmth of seeing each of his children here, safe, and soon to be better rested. He moves to go past them, move up to the master bedroom and get some rest himself. 

A hand catches at his wrist, pulling down. He glances to the source, and can’t help but worry when he’s met with Jason, eyes still closed and broken leg elevated on a stack of floor pillows. “Br’ce.” 

“Yeah, Jaylad?” The nickname wouldn’t fly most times, but his own exhaustion made it slip by. 

“Stay, w’ll you?” He tugs again, harder this time, and Bruce lets himself be pulled down to sit on his heels. Dick almost immediately shimmies over to throw himself over Bruce’s legs, and he supposes that’s that. He lightly lifts Dick to lay his legs down flat. Cass’ arm to pull his shoulders down onto the blanket nest isn’t unexpected, and it’s not a surprise when the rest of his children stir enough to drape themselves over one body part of his or another. 

As Alfred stands on the foot of the stairs, a dish towel drying his hands, he can’t help but smile. Maybe this way his wards would actually rest for once.

[nothing-but-kpop-dreams]

Just "Friends" (5.5/?)

A/n: sooooo sorry this literally took forever. My job is hoenstly so crazy and i either dont have time to write or i am too tired.

All Parts

“Three! Two! One!”

The freezing rain was quick to snap you back into reality. The thin soles of your shoes barely had enough traction to keep you on your feet as you ran down the crowded and slippery walkways.

For a dude that you never saw walk faster than a snail's pace, Yoongi was actually a fast runner. You were barely able to keep up with him. It could have been that he was secretly fit or the fact that the rain felt like bullets of ice shooting down on you but the two were back in that dirty alleyway he found you crying at in what felt like ten seconds.

He was quick to usher you past the garbage bins you once hid behind all those weeks ago and pushed open the back entrance of his apartment building.

“We made it!” he huffed, trying to catch his breath from the burst of activity.

You looked up at him. His blue locks were plastered to his forehead and his shirt was completely soaked. His shirt stuck to his body like plastic wrap and the bottoms of his pant legs were a darker shade of blue compared to his thighs.

You on the other hand were only standing in soaked sneakers while the neckline of you shirt was the only other thing to get the most damage. Yoongi’s coat protected you from most of the water and you felt a bit bad that you had it on the whole time. 

“Here you should take your coat back now.” you said, so that he'd at least have something to keep him warm.

He took the coat from you but didn't put it on. “It's alright I’m gonna change out of these clothes right now. Might as well lend you another sweater too.”

“Nah, its ok.”

“I said I'm lending you a new sweater.” he “insisted” kindly as he grabbed your hand again and began to lead you to his apartment.

Second floor, the second door on the left and you were in his humble abode. 

“Okay, warning, I wasn't expecting this to happen so sorry that my place is kind of a mess.” He said a bit late considering you were already standing in the middle of his apartment.

You took a look around. It was a decent sized place, probably a bit bigger than your apartment, definitely cleaner. If he thought this was bad, he must consider your place a landfill by comparison. “No worries, it's cool, but where's holly though?” You asked excitedly.

“Oooh, he isn't here today. My brother took him for a few days”

“Aw, then what's the point of being here?” you whined

“To finish our date with some good ole fast food... or would you rather be out in the rain? Cuz i can very easily kick you out!” He said with a grin.

“I mean if those are my own options, imma get an uber!” You said jokingly.

“Like I'd let you get in some stranger's car.” he smiled more sincerely, very much noticing your cheeks turn a deep shade of pink. “Wait here and decide what you want us to order while I get changed. There's a few take out menus by the fridge if you want to look at those!” His voice trailed off as he went down his hall and into one of the bedrooms.

Very timidly did you make your way to his kitchen and took a "quick" look around for the menus he was talking about. It could have been possible you snooped through the cabinets and drawers, but it was just a thorough look at the place that's all.

The menus sat there by the fridge just as he said. There wasn't too much to choose from

“Burgers, sushi, pizza- oh that doesn't sound too bad right now, ohhh mexican food!” you were getting hungrier and hungrier as you looked through the pictures of the different foods.

“Boo!” A shout suddenly came from behind you and you felt a pair of hands grab your shoulders!

You let out a shriek. With eyes closed shut you spun around wildly throwing fists at your opponent.

“Chill!” You could hear yoongi laugh. His hands grabbed your fists to stop you from trying to hit him. “It's just me!”

He had a cute laugh, but right now wasn't the time you were going to let him get away with it. “Oh just you? All the more reason to do this!” you hissed, ripping one hand away and smacked him on the shoulder.

Yoongi only laughed some more. "I had to do it. It's pay back for scaring me at the park.” he justified.

“Ugh, fine. We're even.” You grumbled, taking notice of his new "outfit". Yoongi was sporting a faded orange t shirt that made his towel dried blue hair pop even more, paired with some black skinny jeans.

"And here! This is for you, you scaredy cat." He chuckled, pulling off the black sweater hanging from his shoulder and holding it out for you to slide on.

You rolled your eyes at him but complied.

The black sweater was huge. It was like he draped you with a blanket. It was thick and soft and all around perfect.

"Thank you." You smiled like a spoiled brat.

You looked up at him to find him with the same look he had during the whole movie.

His eyes were locked on you, but his face was a deep shade of pink. He was frozen in a stance where he was leaning in closyoongiyou, but not close enough to break your bubble of personal space. Yet again it was like he was holding himself back from making a move.

You yourself felt your face getting hot. You wondered if he was finally going to make a move or not. 

After what felt like full on minutes of him just staring, he still did nothing. 

Maybe it was your turn to try and get the ball rolling.

Without much thought, you reached out your sweater paws and grabbed his hands, moving him closer to you.

Your touch seemed to startle him, as if you disrupted his train of thought. You couldn't help but crack a smile when his eyes looked back at you with subtle look of shock.

You probably caught him off guard. Up until now he had been the one to make all the advances. He was the one to text first, hold your hand first, and was always the one to ask to hang out. 

It's not that you ever turned him down in any way, but you also never put yourself out there with him. Why? You weren't completely sure. It could be that part of you still saw him as your nothing-but-pure-evil high school bully or that you were traumatized by any type of possible rejection after your drama with taehyung. Regardless, it wasn't really fair to him to not reciprocate anything. 

"So yoongi, I've been meaning to tell you something." You started. 

"Hm?" Was all he was able to get out, suddenly so nervous around you.

"Shockingly enough… I don't hate spending time with you." you confessed.

Yoongi couldn't help but let out a chuckle. "I told you I wasn't that bad." He mumbled shyly.

Silence fell between you two again. Neither one of you knew what to say next. 

"... I-um... y/n?"

"Yeah?"

"I've been meaning to ask you something... I'm sure it's pretty obvious at this point, but I like spending time with you an-"

"Ay yo! Yoongi!" A voice came from the now open front door.

The two of you looked over at the front entrance and honestly, you weren't too surprised to see who it was. Even with his back towards you due to peeling off his soaked coat, he looked like he hadn't changed a bit since high school. 

"Dude, you need to answer your fucking phone!" His voice filled the empty silence of the apartment. "Namjoon and I were creating such fire, all we needed was-" his blood ran cold when he turned around and saw you standing with Yoongi in kitchenette. "Oh! A girl!"

Jung hoseok, aka Hobi, aka Yoongi's partner in crime all through high school, stood in awe at the sight of you. Hoseok and Yoongi were always together back in the day. Most of the school was convinced Hoseok flunked a grade too just to be in class with Yoongi. And even years after graduation, it seems like they are still inseparable.

"What were you saying Hoseok?" Yoongi's voice was a full out groan now. 

You on the other hand were a but too shookth to even wave him and just stood there like a statue. You weren't trying to be rude, but you weren't exactly friendly with Hoseok in high school, you know, cuz him being Yoongi's hype man in his bullying raids and all (of course now trying to accept the fact he was trying to be more of a wing man back then).

Upon landing his eyes on you, hoseok plastered on a smile and made his way over to you guys. "Oh it's nothing, but who's your lady friend here?" He asked walking up next to the both of you.

By this point you and Yoongi had let go of each others hand, so shy about being put on the spot.

"Hi, I'm hoseok by the way." He said bringing an arm out to shake your hand and not even letting Yoongi answer the question.

"I know." You said smiled awkwardly. " I still remember you from high school."

Now it was Hoseok's turn to freeze. "High school?  We went to high school together?" He was suddenly looking at you more intensely, doing his best to try and remember you.

Suga let out a frustrated sigh. "Do you really not remem-"

"Shhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!" Hoseok's finger stopped Yoongi's lips from moving, all while having his eyes locked on you.

Immediately Yoongi slapped his hand away

"Oh my gosh" Hoseok whispered. "It's you! Cindy, right? Cindy from algebra 2?!"

Hoseok literally didn't even let you answer his question, he just attacked you with a hug. "Oh damn it's great to see you! It's been so long! how've you been?" He screamed joyously.

"She not Cindy you idiot!" Yoongi said pulling Hoseok off you. "It's y/n. She was a grade below us remember? Fuck, we all ended up graduating together stupid!"

"Whoops sorry! You and the girl I was thinking about look alot alike!" Hoseok laughed.

*You and Cindy, in fact, did not look alike*

"So we graduated together, huh? What's your last name???"

"You gotta be fucking kidding me!" yoongi grumbled. "Hoseok, this is the same y/n i liked back in high school." He spoke in a growl, so frustrated and a bit embarrassed over Hoseok's horrible memory.

Hoseok's eyes opened wide. "Oh…. Oooh!" He froze for a second "Oh you're that y/n." He said under his breath. Again, he stuck his hand out for a handshake. "Well hello again!" He said back in his original tone. "It's great to see you after all these years. You haven't changed a bit!" His tone, although, polite expressed a hint of what you felt could either be nervousness or embarrassment. "Um by the way… why are you here?"

"Hoseok!" Yoongi snapped.

"What?" The questioned innocently. "Last I remember, she hated us."

"I used to." You butted in. "...But now I don't." Without even thinking about it. your eyes trailed over to Yoongi and you couldn't hold back the little smile that formed on your face.

Hoseok very much so noticed the look you gave Yoongi. "So uh- so uh-" he was just waving his hands weirdly between the two of you "so uh what's going on over here then? Hm? Whats- whats a- going on between the two of you?" He asked, his eyebrows jumping mischievously.

"We're on a date." You said blankly. 

Remembering how over the top Hoseok was back then (and seeing how he is now) you didn't want to add any fuel to his over dramatic fire by beating around the bush.

Immediately, his smile widened. His smile was so big you could see all his teeth. The boy was practically an attack on titan titan with the face he made. 

"Say it ain't sooooooo!!!!" He screeched at Yoongi. 

"It is! So now can you let us order some damn food?" A red face yoongi growled.

"Oh food! What we orderin'?"

"No, no,no. Just y/n and i. You want food, then you go out and get some." Yoongi ordered, grabbing Hoseok by the shoulders and attempting to guide him out the kitchenette.

"But it's still raining!" Hoseok whined.

"So?"

"C'mon! Hey y/n don't you wanna catch up with me over some… pizza? How about mexican food?" Hoseok pleaded as he held onto the counter, now from the other side of the breakfast bar. "I'll chip in this time!" He proposed, just as Yoongi tried to get the front door open with one arm while the other was gripping onto the back of hoseok's shirt.

"Nope!" With one swift yank, Yoongi put Hoseok out in the hall and he shut the door in his face.

Yoongi kept himself at the front door for a moment, putting all his weight in case Hoseok tried to come back in. Meanwhile, you were having a laugh attack at the sight of two men in their twenties acting like actual children.

"C'mon man! Let me in! Hoseok shouted through the door."

"No, I won't let you mess up this date!" Yoongi shouted back "And shut up the neighbors will get mad.

"Fine! … but can i at least get my jacket? It's still raining."

Very strategically, Yoongi grab hoseok's coat without allowing the front door to completely open. 

"Bye y/n!" Hoseok shouted "niceseeingyou!youandyoongidonthavetoomu-"

Yoongi yet again cut hoseok's attempt to embarrass him off by shoving the wet coat in his face and slamming the door shut.

You continued to laugh on your own seeing a defeated yoongi place his head on the front door. It was very easy to tell that his best friends had a tendency to do something like this alot.

You both knew any chances of yoongi being cool after this were out the window.

"So…" he sighed, still hiding his probably blushing face from you. "did you figure out what you wanted to eat?"

-Admin Boat

[courage-a-word-of-justice]

Shield Hero 20 - 22 | Sarazanmai 7 - 9 | BSD 32 - 34 | Fruits Basket 8 - 9 | Demon Slayer 8 - 10 | OPM 20 - 21

Shield Hero 20

Motoyasu getting dragged by Filo was funny…not enough to get a proper laugh though. Just a smirk or two.

Stop narrating and just get on with it, Naofumi and friends…!

“I was saying we should fight together all along.” (from Itsuki) – Were you, now…? (skeptical)

Ass-pull! I call “ass-pull” at the power to swallow the phoenix flame! Seriously, when did the dragon get the opportunity to teach Naofumi how to do that???

How did Naofumi not die after losing so much blood…?

What does the Q even stand for in the queen’s name…?

Sarazanmai 7

The seagulls…so fluffy…

For some reason, I expect a fakeout, but then it never arrives…these boys are really connecting…

I found some kappa croquette thingy online, but it referred to a “Shiki City” which probably isn’t in Asakusa…

The shirt…Kazuki’s shirt says “frog” but I get the feeling it also means “return”.

Shirohasu water. It’s Irohasu in Japan.

Was the lyric to Kawausoiya (the otter song) “gonna take ‘em”…?

Nice ET reference, Sara.

Balls…not just sport entendre, but…y’know. The sort of humour I don’t like as much.

Ooh…Keppi is shaping up to be the bad guy. But what plans does he have? Am I speculating too much and is he being framed? Hard to know until next time…

BSD 32

When Kyouka is eating the sundae, she looks like the Tofu Kyouka from Mayoi…hmm.

Can I confess something? Before I saw the illustrations for s2, I thought Louisa’s hair was much darker than what it is in the anime…hmmm, indeed.

I don’t think we were ever told (in the manga or the anime) what Louisa’s wish was…

This bit with Fyodor…I don’t think it was in the manga.

Subarashi-sou is a pun on “it seems wonderful”. That wasn’t in the manga, but it’s a great pun (because it’s right up my alley).

Fitz laughing at the neighbour’s TV wasn’t in the manga either, but that’s just the anime director’s humour peeking through.

“Blalack Daniel’s”, LOL.

Ohh…a quick Google reveals TJ Eckleberg is from the Great Gatsby. In there, he’s an eye doctor, but here, he’s an engineer.

George B Wilson is also from the Great Gatsby…Here be spoilers, but…George dies in his original work too.

Manhasset is a place in New York…I assume it’s connected to the Great Gatsby as well…

Oh yeah! Random Poe moment. That’s in the manga, so Igarashi (or whoever’s responsible for the terrible humour) doesn’t have to fake that bit.

Cue “Objection!” by Fitz, lemme guess. Even if I know the outcome and how it was done, I’d like to have my memory refreshed (by stabbing in the dark…and making an Ace Attorney joke in the process).

I already know, without googling, that Tom Buchanan is part of Great Gatsby as well…

Bank of Amerigo…LOL.

Fruits Basket 8

“If you show up for the banquet now…”

“The banquet sounds just like the folk tale!” Honestly, subbers, proofread…

Haa-kun and Haa-san. No distinguishing between them (aside from honorifics), even though they’re two completely different people.

Hatori’s squinty face was…hilarious, to put it simply.

Oh…I forgot the dance seems to be something the animal of the year does. So if Yuki was 3 years ago, it makes sense Momiji is doing it this year.

Best seat in the house for a sunrise, huh?

Kimetsu no Yaiba 8

I’ve seen Muzan being described as “Demon Michael Jackson” and now I can’t get that out of my head when I see him…sorry.

Tsukihiko, huh? It translates to “moon’s radiance” or something like that. That name is appropriate for a bad guy, isn’t it?

This is the first time I’ve really listened to the OST (aside from the OP and ED), so it’s…really something.

Ooh, I didn’t realise until now, but Ufotable even imitated the paper Jump is printed on with the next-ep previews…

OPM 2 8 (OPM 20)

Er…I haven’t mentioned it for the past few episodes, but Suiryu is hotttttttt. (No? I said that? Okay, next step.) That’s basically the only reason why I’m watching anymore…I can’t seem to find anyone who thinks positively of this tournament arc enough to do reviews of it that I can read, which has made my own opinion of this beloved series go down the drain…Also, if you weren’t aware, my taste lies not in Suiryu’s huge bulk, but rather in the fact he’s got long hair.

Didn’t Suiryu get pierced in the abs??? Where’s the blood coming from his injuries??? Update: He does have injuries there, they’re just not bloody…that’s all.

The main criticism for OPM 2 is the fact that it keeps cutting between different events, so it’s hard to follow. Well, I’ve had worse (see Concrete Revolutio) so that’s why I’m still here.

People say that clothing changes you – say if you put on a new outfit, you feel like a new person. (Of course, that’s all glamorising and praising consumption, but that’s beside the point here.) I think that’s what’s up with Max and Snek.

Shield Hero 21

“…the Shield Hero is worshipped.”

Really? Boob jiggle, at a time like this??? (Context: Malty is getting th slave crest painted on her.)

Wait, was there ever a Shield Church???

Okay, that felt like a real seasonal ending. What the heck is going to happen in the last few episodes, I wonder…?

Sarazanmai 8

Chikai knows the real meaning of YOLO…heh. I’m only kidding…

To be honest, I think I like Toi best out of the main trio. I tend to like the boys in blue…and no, I don’t mean the otter police.

Kazuki’s service provider is “Kappa Phone”, LOL.

When Reo held up the gun, I was yelling, “Enta! Get it for him!” (i.e. take the bullet) I didn’t expect him to actually do it…

…and here I thought tragic yuri was common enough and we don’t have enough Tragic Yaoi Dudes…

Notably, Toi was registered on Enta’s phone as “Kuji”, while Kazuki is registered as “Kazuki” (katakana) on Toi’s.

Shots fired…!

Update: I didn’t notice this, but the evil dude with kamome written behind him (I think it’s in this episode, but it might have been in the last one instead) must be based on a seagull…because that’s what kamome means.

Bungou Stray Dogs 33 (BSD S3 Ep 8)

I think it was around here I stopped reading the scans, because the series was picked up legally anyway…but I can see the death flags for a certain Port Mafia man…one who stands at the top.

As expected…butt shot. Igarashi (or whoever’s responsible for that shot) likes butts, so between this and Sarazanmai…*imagines image of kappa!Kazuki holding a shirikodama* There’s absolutely no buts about it (LOL), there’s no shortage of butts this season.

“To think that the rabbit being hunted would show its face…” – I think it’s hard for you to say that, Akutagawa, when you yourself have no face in that frame…

Why are both Akutagawa and Fyodor Naruto running today???

“So you’re doing this for that woman.”

What is “Mukurotoride”? I don’t seem to remember…maybe I never learnt what it was. Update: Apparently a tower in Dead Apple is called Mukurotoride.

Conspiracy time! This book sounds like Kunikida’s Ability…so imagine if it were under Dazai’s nose the entire time…

Fruits Basket 9

I love how the synopsis for this episode goes, “Kyo fights Yuki, Yuki fights a cold…”

Hatsuharu’s wearing such an ostentatious fluffy jacket…LOL, I love it.

Holy cow (LOL), I forgot how old Hatsuharu is…so that means he’s 15-ish, right?

Come to think of it…I see Fruits Basket characters in Ro Te O, which I started writing at about this time in 2013. The Azrael of that time was a hybrid of Hatsuharu, Ritsu and Ayame, Tetsuya is basically Yuki and Ryou is Kyou…hmm.

Apparently, Shigure had in the 2001 anime a song that went like, “High school girls, high school girls, cute high school girls for me.” So that’s where it was??? (Context: I haven’t seen Fruits Basket 2001, but read the entire manga.)

Kimetsu no Yaiba 9

Recap time, recap time…so the lady’s in the back room and Tanjiro conveniently forgets the man is in the basement…? Wuh?

Moya was complaining about how repetitive this show can get when it comes to the script (i.e. it repeats itself because it doesn’t trust its audience, but I think that’s because this is originally serialised on TV week by week that people may forget if they’re not bingeing, taking notes or following the manga). I’ll talk more about that in my KnY collab post, I guess…

When Yushiro said “watch your back”…he really meant it, huh?

Temari are the balls, but kemari is when you kick the balls.

“…the eyeballs on his hands are creepy.” – LOL.

Shield Hero 22

The ep title just says “Hero Council”…not specifically that there are 4 of them.

My stream’s been buffering more than usual, so I went “like mother, like daughter” before Naofumi did…

It would’ve ben massively funny to hear Melty call Malty either “Trash” or “B****”…especially the last one, because that’s always a fun way to end a sentence (especially for a girl as young as her). Update: She does, but the way she does it isn’t as funny as I thought it would be (and she doesn’t end her sentence with her sister’s new name).

Wait, I thought they got rid of her slave pact??? I thought it was only for the duration of her trial that she needed it for.

L’Arc and that lady seem like they’re foreshadowing for later…hmm. Update: The next-episode synopsis says “yes”. So does that new visual.

Sarazanmai 9

I can’t believe this show’s almost over…That means I gotta get a move on with RobiHachi, but to be honest? Non-anime things are probably going to kep me busy until…a few days from now. So I’ll get RobiHachi watched then.

Characetrs are dying en masse in this episode, aren’t they??? I saw a spoiler that (well, SPOILER) Chikai’s gonna die, but I don’t know about Enta or Keppi…Update: To be honest, I thought Chikai was going to become the next monster – a gun monster, perhaps. Maybe now that I’ve finished the episode, he’ll become a real zombie. (Hey, see what I did there with the bolding…? How’s that for hiding spoilers, eh???)

Oh yeah…I forgot Enta’s sister was Kazuki’s teacher…

There was a sign behind Masa that said”Hinode Asakusa” – “hi no de” meaning roughly “under the sun” or “leaving the sun”.

Tokarev…? The gun? Gun monster, maybe? Is this a critique of the American gun…(exaggerated voice) Nah, can’t be…this is Japanese.

Lionel…Lionel…for some reason, that name in relation to soccer seems familiar...I just can’t put my finger on who it reminds me of, though. Update: Is it, perhaps, Messi…? Yes, I think that’s the guy I was thinking of…!

Aw…I’m not crying, you are…But these words were running through my head before Toi chucked the bag of money away and yelled, “F***!”: “Everything I do, I do it for you.” Isn’t that cute…?

Bungou Stray Dogs 34

“…one by one?” Junban means “sequentially”, so I don’t see why you have to use the phrase “one by one”. Or “one at a time” would also work.

Hardbank…to contrast Softbank (a phone company in Japan).

Face-stealing aliens strike again…(re: Atsushi)

Oh flip. This reminds me of my Kunikida fic…yeah, I bet you don’t remember it.

Hey, this dude! Apparently he’s from one of Kunikida’s stories. I really am approaching the end of what I know of canon…*gulp* Update: Oops, we already passed that part…

I wonder if the real Fyodor could play cello…? Or is this just a thing to make him ominous and villanous…?

The cross on the wall behind Kunikida…makes this show more like Eva than Kekkai Sensen…exquisite. Absolutely exquisite, isn’t it?

Another cool cross, behind Tanizaki!

What’s a tatamigatana? Also, I didn’t know other people could be synchronised using Doppo Poet and Ranpo’s deduction…

Does Kouyou mean (by “the one I most despise”)…Chuuya? Or herself? It’s definitely not Ace.

Kimetsu no Yaiba 10

Headpats for Yushiro as well! Headpats for everyone!

There’s a lot of Tanjiro being terrified in this episode…

Wait…Kizuki? I thought they were the 12 Moons? (Well, “tsuki” means “moon”, but then what’s the “ki”?) Update: The “ki” means “demon”, so the Kizuki are the 12 Demon Moons.

Being alone with the body…that’s always a scary thought in murder mysteries…for the people who dissect them to determine the cause of death, that is.

Considering the name of the episode is “Together Forever”…nup, I don’t see Nezuko and Tanjiro separating anytime soon…

The Kasugai crow is what happens when you can’t turn off your Google Assistant…or GPS…or Siri.

If Tanjiro knows the name of his crow, how do the crows get their names? Do their trainers (is that the right term for a crow breeder in this case…?) give them names?

OPM S2 Ep 9 (Ep 21)

LOL, that one shot of the ants…JC Staff really don’t care about this series, do they…?

I kinda forgot about Genos after a bit more than a week…sorry, I was watching other anime in between. (More than usual, at least. I started playing Chibi Tamago – a forum game for AniList where you collect badges for watching anime - that’s why.)

Did he (Pri-Pri Prisoner)…store his phone in his butt…?

[writeaday]

10 Years Ago but Probably More, Has It Been That Long?

I read a while ago about this concept called the collective unconsciousness. As did I. But I did not. To explain, the idea was that if you thought about someone, they were most likely thinking of yourself too and that’s why we might just randomly think of a person. There was some scientific evidence but that’s not as important. What’s important was we all thought back to moments 10 years ago, maybe more, maybe less, and we thought whether we were doing ok. We thought about that incident as we’re sure we’ve thought about it as well and we wondered if we felt the same way as we did back then and could we talk to ourselves? Would it be alright if we did? Just asked how we’re doing, if we’re ok? Can we catch up? And that we’re sorry. 

We know we’re sorry too and we thank ourselves but mostly we’re sorry too. 

Do we all feel the same? We hope we all feel the same way because we’d like to say we’re sorry. 

This morning, yesterday, last week we saw the same picture on facebook, uploaded by my mom, Rosie’s mom, my sister had uploaded of a picture from 10 years ago of a vacation but my mom, I wasn’t there because I just... couldn’t. Has it been only been 10 years? We think it’s more. That’s quite a long time ago. 

At the end of 10 years, we suddenly find ourselves regretful. We wish those feelings had surfaced when we were younger. But we’ve moved on. We’ve moved on and yet we’re still regretful. It makes it not such a bad feeling and we hope you can forgive us. 

When I was younger I really couldn’t stand seeing you enjoy yourself when you had such shitty grades. You were smart too, but boy, did you spend so much of your time being such an idiot and a child. Granted, we were literally children at the time but still. You sure were childish. 

Can you blame your mom for liking me more than you? Or our grandparents? 

I thought that often and even though I grew up and changed my opinion and became a more mature person, I still never really apologized. 

I keep hearing through the grapevine, from this aunt and that aunt, that you keep having money trouble. Are you? Or are you just doing what you want? I can’t tell from what our aunts say. 

I feel like I shouldn’t worry. It might be condescending. But I asked around for your number anyways. I thought our grandparents would have it, but they didn’t, which surprised me. I had to ask all the way to your mom. Your mom was friendly on the phone. After all, she always liked me a little more than she liked you. When we finally got to the topic of you, she clammed up. The conversation quickly ended after that. 

I wonder how your mom’s doing? I wonder how Josh is doing too. Do you wonder about them, too, since it seems like it’s been a while since you all have talked? 

I wonder how much you’ve changed. I thought all this as I listened to the phone ring before the voicemail message interrupted. I couldn’t hear any of your voice in the message, just the automated recitation of your phone number. God, I hope this is your number. 

I tried again the next day, trying to get back into mindset I was in the day before, hoping I can remember all the conversation topics I wanted to bring up with you. Once again, the automated message interrupted. 

Yet another day passed, yet another call. I realized you might have thought I was spam and blocked me, so I left a message this time. 

I gave you a couple days before I tried calling again. I steeled myself to listen to your voicemail message again but you interrupted this time. 

“...Hello?” I laughed internally, you sounded so worried.

“I’m not an automated ad in Chinese, I swear.”

“...What?”

“I’m sorry. It’s hard to make jokes when you haven’t really spoken to someone in years, huh? Your rhythms just get off sync.”

“Um. Who is this?”

“It’s Rosie.”

“Oh my god, Rosie?! Wow, dude, it’s been so long!” I calculated quickly how old you were and comparing it to the fact you still said, “Dude.” But you were so genuine, I’m glad I persisted in calling you.

“Yes, it has. How have you been?” 

“Ah. Well. I dunno. Good, I guess.” I waited for more details but that you had given enough information. It left me lonely, thinking this was how you probably spoke to your mother as well these days. 

“I’ve been well as well.” 

“Ah, OK, cool. That’s good. Uh. What’ve you been up to?” 

“Oh, you know. Just working.” Was it mean to be as cold as you were? But I couldn’t help it. I also did not call to talk about myself. 

“That’s good then.” I could picture you were your hand on your head. Am I wasting your time? I’m sorry. 

“How about you? I keep hearing from Tiya Diwata and Tiya Benilda you’re having money trouble. Always. Their words.” 

“Mannnn, what the fuckkkk, are you serious? Can’t they mind their own fucking business, I swear.” 

I laughed as I felt you easing into our conversation. “So? Are you?”

“Noooo. I mean, I do but it’s not, like, always. It’s not like I’m asking them for money or my mom for money. But also who doesn’t? God. I’m fine.” 

I snorted in laughter slightly. “Hey. So the reason I called.” 

“Yeah?” I hear you bracing for impact from my word choice. 

“I just wanted to apologize for when we were kids.”

“Huh?” I can almost hear your shoulders relaxing.

“I really looked down on you when we were kids. And I. Just wanted to apologize for being so condescending. So. I’m sorry.”

“Oh my god, what? It’s fine! I mean, you didn’t look down on me anymore when we were teens, right?”

“No, not at all.”

“So it’s fine! We were just kids. I knew, anyways!”

I feel embarrassed. “I know but, I don’t know. I just felt like I should apologize. It’s just something I keep thinking about even all these years. It keeps me up and makes me embarrassed. I keep thinking about it and it was really unfair of me.”

“Oh my god, you’re being so crazy, we were literal kids! But thank you, man.” I could feel a smile on the line and I smiled back. 

“Do you remember that time you were playing with our other younger cousins pretending to be Pokemon? And I was trying to read? I thought you were being so immature and I just need to apologize for that specific incident.”

“ROSIE, YOU’RE SO WEIRD.” I hear you laugh aloud and I keep trying to make you laugh until our phone call ends. 

I didn’t get to ask you all the questions I had prepared to sate my curiosity but it was good to know you are alright. That you laugh and curse and say speak the way I remember you. I hope I can get my questions answered on our next phone call. 

---------------- (I don’t remember how I put in that page break...)

I recognized the area code as one our family would have, since we all lived in the same area. It was probably one of our grandparents, again, and the conversation was ALWAYS awkward. We never had anything to talk about, they didn’t really raise me, I do NOT want to talk to them. It is fucking boring.

Oh god, what if it’s our Tiya Diwata again? I can hear her asking if I’m married and talking about how HER kid is married. I don’t give a FUCK! SHUT UP. I haven’t heard from her in years, anyways, and I like it like that. So why do they keep trying to contact me?

I put the phone face down. If I hit ignore, she’d definitely know and then she’d tell the whole family how I purposefully ignored her. I’ll just pretend I was asleep when I got the call. Or better yet I can actually fall asleep and that would make me not a liar. 

The next day Tiya called again. What the heck, was there a new rumor going around about me or something? If I just keep ignoring her she’ll eventually give up. I hope. 

I was taking a nap when my phone started ringing. I was half asleep when I looked at my phone and accepted the call. It was too late when I realized the area code is from where we grew up. 

I braced myself for Tiya Diwata to yell at me for ignoring her calls up until this point. “...Hello?”

It was awkward at first but eventually I heard you laugh and, god, even though I don’t regret the distance between me and the family, it was still nice to hear from you again. 

When you apologized, you reminded me of those darker days. It wasn’t your fault, memories of the past come up so easily. Don’t you wish we could physically run away from memories too? 

I want to ask you what you’ve been doing, but I’ve evaded that exact question from you. I was too embarrassed to tell you what I’ve been up to but I want to selfishly ask you all the same. 

We hang up and I promise I’ll ask you all the questions on my mind next time. And I promise I’ll be brave enough to tell you how I am next time. And I hope we can talk again. Next time. 

I laugh internally, thinking about you apologizing for yourself as a child. And I think back to my mom from when we were children. How she said aloud what you thought but meant it but she definitely wasn’t a child then. 

As a child she thought of me with expectation, she spoke of me with possibilities for the future, with the possibilities of change and hope. 

How does she view me now? As an adult. Does she think of her actions in the past? Or does she have no regrets? 

Even now I wonder what she thought of me then.

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

Rosie’s call had me thinking about Kara. Something I try to avoid doing but happens anyways. Especially when my cousins and sisters call asking about her. And Josh. 

I really don’t know which I like to be reminded of less. Kara or Josh. 

I stared at Kara’s number on my phone. I didn’t have a picture for her contact or even an address. Just her number and her name, written out in full, as if I’d get her confused with another Kara. 

I wonder how she’s doing. I wonder if she wondered how I was doing. Or how her brother was doing. It’s the very least she could do. 

I recall the photo my sister had posted earlier of a young Kara and Josh with Rosie. That was such a difficult time. The nights I stayed up, fretful, the mornings I had to drag myself to work after a night staying up. 

My phone buzzed in my hand. I was confused for a bit, thinking I was still looking at Kara’s contact info. Instead, her name was displayed as a call. 

I picked up. “Kara?”

“Mom! Hey...” I wait for her to give me the reason for her call. I give up on waiting. 

“Hello.” 

“Hey,” she repeats, “How’re you doing? I was just wondering what’s up with you.” 

So she did wonder how I was doing sometimes. “I’m fine. I’m in bed right now, actually. I was about to turn in for the night.” 

“Oh, yeah. It’s late. Want me to call another time? So you can sleep?”

“Oh, no, no. It’s fine. We can talk.” 

“Oh, ok. Cool.” 

I return the pleasantries. “How are you doing?”

“Oh. I’m fine. I mean... Well. I could be better. I guess. I’m always tired from work. I know I should cook but I’m just too tired.” 

“You just need to prioritize your time better. Plan ahead and stick to it. Write a list and pick a time.” 

“Ah, yeah. I guess I should.” 

Kara’s silent as I continue. “But I completely understand that feeling.”

“Oh my god, right? It’s so hard to be motivated.” 

“Yes, it is.” 

“Especially after being stuck in traffic for so long.” 

“God, yes. Especially when there’s hyper aggressive drivers.”

“God, TOTALLY!” 

We continued talking until we were surprised an hour had passed. We hung up so that I could sleep and I wondered what it meant to have children when they weren’t around. 

My phone buzzed again. A message from my parents back in the Philippines asking for money yet again. 

I wonder what it meant to them to have children. 

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

I wondered as I fell asleep wondering about you and me. 

[supersnowbarry]

Won’t You Stay Til’ The A.M.?

WORD COUNT [2,273] 

Chapter One, We’re Just Swimmin’ Round in our Glasses

Hopeless. Lost. Those are just two of the many words that Caitlin Snow could use to describe how she was feeling at the moment. How did she get to this point in her life? Two loses in the span of two weeks was something she was not prepared for. Yet, there she was, looking down at her second glass of Vodka soda - Half a glass of Vodka, and a splash of Club Soda. A strong drink, but one that was much needed.

Where to begin? Well, for starters she found out earlier in the day that she failed her board exam to become a certified BioChemist; 7 years of hard work down the drain. She had been waiting her whole life to get her PhD, and now the moments leading up to this were gone, all because of one thing. One very traumatic thing.

Holding back tears while listening to a very muted and muffled “Don’t Stop Believin’” fading out in the background, she downed the last of her drink. Cringing from the taste (she always hated when she got to the bottom of the drink, when she was home she liked to pinch her nose to try and block out the bitter taste the Vodka gave off. She looked around at the ghost town before her, setting the empty glass down on the bar. “I’ll take another, and while you’re at it, go ahead and start a tab for me, please,” she told the bartender.

The bartender, better known as Jake, nodded and gave an understanding smile. Jake worked most nights, or at least the nights in the prior few months that Caitlin had been in. He was always so pleasant to be around, and that was all that Caitlin needed right now.

Looking down at her watch, she saw that over an hour had passed and wondered why the bar was so empty. It wasn’t normal for a friday night in Central City. She hoped that more frequents would arrive soon, maybe some that she already knew. Not that she necessarily wanted company, but it couldn’t hurt.

She must have spoken too soon, because the once cold and empty seat next to her now gave off an unwanted warmth. She looked over to her left and saw a man (at least in his 40’s), wearing a black suit with a loosened emerald green necktie. He wasn’t half bad, with dark, deep set eyes and perfectly slicked brown hair, wearing wrinkles under his eyes, showing off years of hard work. A face she didn’t recognize.

He looked at her and gave a toothy grin, taking a sip of his beer. She gave a frigid smile and turned away, looking back down at her own drink, knowing what was about to happen but trying to avoid it at all costs.

Clearing her throat, she adjusted her white collar, one that she wore under a charcoal sweater. The sweater had seen better days. Caitlin wasn’t one to dress, “frumpy” but desperate times call for desperate measures. She felt cozy in the sweater. Safe. It helped her out of that bed the morning, which was a victory in itself.

Waking her up from her thoughts, she heard the man mutter something. “I’m sorry, what was that?” she said, furrowing her eyebrows.

“I said, do you come here often?” he repeated himself, giving the same toothing grin he gave her before.

“Uh, I-, yeah just in the past few months...” She knew how uneasy she sounded, but she wasn’t in the headspace for a proper conversation.

“I’m here most nights, the names Matt. I think would have remembered seeing a pretty face like yours. What’s your name, cutie? Let me buy you a drink, huh?” he said with raised eyebrows and darker eyes than before.

She felt her cheeks turn a deep shade of red, but not for pleasant reason. Caitlin’s face only tended to go red for one of two reasons: embarrassment or frustration. In this moment, she couldn’t tell which one she was feeling more.

As she went to open her mouth, and say the words that no one could’ve prepared for, she heard a voice, “Heeeeeeey! There you are. I’ve been looking all over for you!”

She turned to look behind her and saw a tall and lanky guy (he had to be at least six feet tall), displaying an outfit similar to hers but he looked more put-together. She couldn’t help but notice his anxious but inviting green eyes. He was handsome, that’s for sure, and Caitlin could point out a nice looking guy when need be.

She looked at him with confusion written all over her face. She thought to herself, Is this guy forreal? He’s either drunk and thinks I’m someone else, or maybe, just maybe he’s trying to help me out?

She gulped, deciding to play along. “Oh, hey! Um, yeah, I uh- came a little earlier and forgot to shoot you a text to let you know I was here.” With an unsuspecting half smile, she motioned to the chair to the right of her, that was currently occupied by her purse. After picking it up, she clutched it close to her body.

The older man that had been sitting with her, she smirked to herself at thought of his name. Matt. It had been an annoying classmate’s name that was forced to sit next to her during her sophomore year of college. Huh. Maybe all Matt’s are irritating by nature? She thought to herself.

Letting out a low growl that made Caitlin jump, Matt grabbed his beer and scooted his stool out. Leaving a tip for the bartender. He went to join a group of suited up men in the back booth of the little bar.

“I’m sorry, you looked uncomfortable, and I figured I could-”, the nameless and handsome man began.

“Thank you.” Caitlin interrupted with slight relief in her now hushed voice.

“I didn’t see you here earlier. The bar was quite calm when I got here,” she started, looking around slowly at the once empty bar that was now overflowing with people. College kids, women and men in business attire, and even a few people who looked like they used a Fake I.D to get in.

“Oh, I got here a little while ago. I normally stay to myself and try to pick a quiet booth in the back where I can read articles on my phone,” he said while pointing to the back booth that was now occupied by Gary and his friends. “But as you can see, that spots taken tonight.” He smiled, holding out his hand for Caitlin to grab and shake. “I’m Barry, by the way.”

She reached up her icy hands from her now, watered down drink, and shook his hand. “Caitlin,” she introduced herself with a nod. She noticed his hand shake was firm, remembering something her dad used to tell her, a handshake makes a man, or something like that.

“So, what do you like to read?” she asked. Barry looked at her with a confused expression. “You mentioned that you liked to read articles when you come here, if your booth isn’t taken that is,” she said lightly.

“Oh, I like to read up on random things, mostly science related. I’ve been really into Fritz Haber the past couple of days…” he said, looking at Caitlin’s face, not knowing if she was interested or bored. “I’m sorry, I  geeked out on you for a second.” He laughed.

“No,” she said, almost too quick, making Barry move back for a second. “I actually went to school to be a BioChemist,” she said, trailing off.

“That’s so awesome! Wow, so you’re certified, I’m assuming?” Barry now seemed more interested than ever.

Caitlin swirled her straw around in her drink, feeling the tears stinging her already tired eyes. “I actually-” she started to say, but swallowed back her tears. “I just found out today that I did not pass my boards to become certified,” she admitted, downing whatever what was left of her tasteless Vodka, calling Jake over for a refill.

Watching the small-framed and tired girl chug the rest of her half filled drink, Barry knew instantly that he hit a nerve. “I’m sorry. It was rude for me to assume.”

She looked over to him, trying to put on her most sincere smile while grabbing the new drink that was placed in front of her. “No, no need to apologize. You couldn’t have known, right? I mean, who chokes on a test that they prepared their whole entire life to take?” She grabbed her glass and felt the slow burn of the alcohol go down her throat. After the glass was empty, she looked back to Barry and asked, “Can I buy you something? A drink or food maybe?”

“You don’t have to do that,” he said, shaking his head. “Anyways, isn’t it me who should be asking that?” he asked, smiling while doing finger guns at her.

She giggled to herself.  “I mean, it’s the least I can do for sitting here, making you feel uncomfortable after you tried to relieve me of the very same feeling not even ten minutes ago,” she slurred apologetically, feeling her drink slowly sneaking up on her and her vision starting to blur in a familiar way.

“Well in that case, I’ll take another Jack and Coke, please.” he smiled.

“Jack and Coke, huh? Haven’t had one of those in years,” she said, her voice drifting off in a memory. “That was my dad’s go to, we would drink those together when either of us had a rough day. I switched over to good ol’ Vodka with Club Soda though - less calories,” she shared, winking at Barry.

Her eyes widened. She was taken back by what she had just did. Was she flirting? Or trying to? At this point, she was in over her head, and the Vodka wasn’t helping.

“You know, I did hear somewhere that the lighter the alcohol, the less calories,” he said, smiling.

She grinned back at him. “Hey Jake, I’ll take another Vodka Soda and a Jack and Coke for my new friend Barry,” she shouted, patting Barry on the back a few times.

Barry laughed under his breath at the clearly drunk and suddenly confident girl beside him.

“No way, I’m cutting you off, girlie. This is what, drink number five for you?” Jake questioned.

“I’ve only had three, dude. C’mon, you can trust me.” She winked at the young and put together bartender.

“First of all, no. Second of all, you never call me dude, so you just played yourself dude,” he imitated her, using the same tone Caitlin used before. “Here’s your tab,” he said while sliding Caitlin her receipt. ”Why don’t I call you an Uber?”

She shook her head.  She knew that money was about to be tight, with her dad gone and her once promised career at S.T.A.R. Labs down the drain. She couldn’t afford any extras. Signing off on the paper in front of her, she looked up at Jake, knowing he had her best interest at heart. “I’ll just walk home, my apartment is right up the street. It’ll only take me five minutes at most,” she stated with a tinge of sadness in her voice.

“Why don’t I walk with you Caitlin? My dad's house is a few blocks from here,” Barry offered.  “I’d feel better knowing you got home safe. Who knows what kind of trouble is beyond those doors, better yet, at that booth over there.”

She looked over to see Matt and his friends taking turns shooting all kinds of drinks, one by one. Caitlin was normally cautious when it came to new people, but with Barry, she felt safe. Why is that? Is it the Vodka? Or was is her gut feeling telling her that she would be okay? That maybe this was an opportunity for a friend? One that shares her love of science and clearly is a caring person.

“You know what, Barry? I’d like that. Foreward. March!” She shot off her stool, raising one arm in the air and nearly fell over. Barry caught her in time before her head made friends with the ground.

He laughed, a laugh that that gave Caitlin the biggest butterflies. “Woah there, soldier,” he said back to her, still laughing at the previous comment Caitlin made.

“You’re pretty quick Barry. Hey, what’s your last name?” She looked up at him, realizing the height difference. It wasn’t much, but it was enough.

“It’s Allen.” he said, receiving a full on smile from from the beautiful woman he held in his arms.

“I like it.”

“Well thank you, Caitlin…” he trailed off.

“Snow. Caitlin Snow,” she provided him. “You know, snow like the ice crystals that precipitate from the atmosphere and undergo changes from the...” she said, but stopped herself, realizing that she was rambling. “Sorry, I geeked out on you for a second,” she stated, realizing she just used his own line against him.

“You really are something, Caitlin Snow.”

She felt a blush rise on her face, one that she wasn’t familiar with. She cleared her throat, “You ready, Barry?” she asked.

“Ready when you are,” he said, wrapping his arms around her shoulders to steady her as she grabbed her purse and starting stumbling to the door. She thought to herself, when one door closes, another opens, and this new door that opened, was one she was excited to walk through.

[marshaeb]

P.S:I'm Mated With The Cursed Alpha!

Chapter Ten

Hey guy! Don’t forget to Like, Comment, Review, and Follow for more updates! My apologies in advance for all the grammatical errors. Book will be professionally edited when completed.

For the past few days, I was wearing nothing but a high collar blouse, or a neck scarf. Just the thought of being caught with the remains of that platonic episode between Alpha Darius and I would bring me to shame.

But not once would I have thought he made so many. Some were huge and had a darker shade of red while the others were light.

Only once I had a hickey, and it was from Jackson. He placed it right on my thigh because I told him it would be easier to hide from Mom, but Alpha Darius on the other hand was a horny, hungry Alpha on steroids.

The dude was literally munching on my neck! But it was my fault for letting him go so far—shit— I’m talking like I could have done something. I would of only fuel his rage.

But...the pleasure was too much...I-I couldn’t fight it off, which only caused me to crack under pressure, and lied about breaking up with Jackson. I’m such a terrible girlfriend.

That day when he ‘sexually assaulted me in the daycare’s changing room, I’ve had Kylo, the head guard close by at all times these couple of days. So where ever he would be stalking me, he’ll get the idea not even try that shit again!

Only a week left until my eighteen birthday. The one and only birthday in my life I dread!

I sighed deeply and wrapped my scarf back around my neck to hide those gruesome ‘love marks’.

Since it’s my day off from the nursery, I’ve decided to see Sarah at the hospital. Her birthday, making her eighteen was two days ago, but seeing that I’m busy with the nursery, I didn’t have the time to stop by.

So, I got her a colorful bouquet, a happy eighteenth birthday balloon, a box of chocolates and... A vibrator!

I know it’s a bit much but, I got to look out for my girlfriend. She’s been single for a month now.

After walking up to the third floor to Sarah’s room, low and behold, I ran into Chelsea McGregor. There she stood, arm in a cast as she an her Mom stood at the front desk to sign her out.

“Why hello, Ms. Window hopper!” She said giving me a sly smile. “It’s been a while since we saw each other. Here to see your best friend, huh?”

With so much going on, I have totally forgotten about her and her little clique. I guess Sarah and I weren’t the only ones who were attacked that night.

“I heard you’re not at the hospital anymore.” She chuckled as I walked by, trying my best to ignore her. “I guess mama Alpha wants you on her watch at all time....too bad.”

I balled my hand into a tight fist, trying to control my wolf. I need to get the hell away from her before she ends up staying another two weeks in this hospital.

On my way to Sarah’s, room 105, I stop in front of the door and took a shaky, deep breath to clear my head. Knowing Sarah, she’ll easily read right through me.

“Enough waiting,” I whispered quietly to myself.

I opened the door, walking in on Sarah and a man I didn’t know, sharing a laugh together.

I stood there awkwardly with her small bouquet of flowers in my hand, watching as they turned all flustered.

“J-Joel!” She gasped in surprise. “Come in! Come in! So glad to see that you’re alright!”

I stepped inside with an unreadable expression on my face as he and I exchanged looks.

“You’re looking fine for yourself,” I said, hugging her on the hospital bed. “Who’s this?”

“Uh-um...this is...” She started, taking in a deep breath as they looked each other, intensely, in the eye.

There was a quiet pause. I stood back, and for the first time ever, felt like an unwanted third wheel as I look between them, studying their friendly gestures.

Who is this guy anyway? And how does he know, Sarah... my best friend? I mean... I dislike how possessive and overprotective I’m feeling, but Sarah has always been like a sister to me.

And why on earth are they staring at each other with that dazzle look in their eyes? They are being way too friendly. Especially seeing his hand touching her feet under that was under the bedsheet.

What is up with them? Did I miss something from these past few weeks being apart?

I looked between them and clear my throat to make it known that I was in the darn room!

“Oh...right,” she chuckled softly, “Joel, this is Bobby Hamilton...the physical education teacher at my school. You know, the one I told you about that night.”

“Ah, yes...nice to meet you. I’m Joel, Sarah’s longtime best friend.” I said as we shook hands.

“I guess, I’ll come by later, seeing that you have company.” He said, rubbing her feet.

Come back...later?!

“Ok,” she said as her eyes sparkled intensely. “Please... be safe.”

He walked to her and placed his hand on the back of her head, kissing her on the forehead. Their eyes locked onto one another for an intimate moment, then he quietly left the room.

My eyes drifted at her as she held her gaze at the door. What’s with her?

Shit!...WHAT THE HELL’S GOING ON!

“Ah...did I interrupt?” I finally spoke.

She snapped out of her daze and looked up at me, taking my hand in hers as she smiles cheekily from ear-to-ear.

“No, you’re different, Joel...” She said, rubbing her thumb over my knuckles. “Maybe, if it was someone else...but anyway, I’m so glad to see you!

I gave her a weak smile. “Don’t look so to me... You barely even look at me before he left.”

“Oh, come on, Joel!” She sighed, patting me gently, “that’s not true...I mean...I could hardly remember what I did.”

“Because you’ll we’re too busy making googly eyes at each other!” I said.

“Stop...we were not making ‘googly’ eyes at one another,” she blushed. “But, I have something to tell you!”

“So do I,” I said, feeling my mood starting to change for the worst.

“Oh...Well, you go first!” she said.

Gently, I playfully thud my finger against her forehead. “Happy belated Eighteenth Birthday!” I smiled, handing her her gifts and the boutique of flowers.

“Oh, Jo’!” she gasped, shaking the boxes, “You’re too sweet! Thank you so much!”

“Yes, and sorry for missing out on your big day...you know I would always be there for you, just like you’re always there for me,” I said. “But the Nursery could be a little hectic sometimes... dealing with the pups.”

“I know, but do you like it so far?” she asked as my mind instantly went on that Alpha Darius.

I swallowed deeply and slightly nodded my head.

“Yeah...the pups, they’re great.” I anxiously replied.

“That’s great, glad to hear that,” she said. ” Everything’s working out in favor. Away from Mr. Honky, Alpha.”

I felt bad. I wasn’t being one hundred percent real with her. What’s wrong with me? Sarah’s my best friend we always tell each other everything! But somehow, I feel as if we’re both holding back on something. She too was being quite nonchalant, and Sarah’s the complete opposite, when I’m around.

“So...you wanted to tell me something?” I smiled.

She paused and took a deep breath as a smile widened on her face. By the looks of it, I can tell it was a big deal to her.

“Mr. Hamilton...” she blushed.

“Yeah...what about him?” I said bluntly. “What’s going on with you two?”

“Well, remember that horrible night when all of this happened,” she said pointing to her bandages, “you were right about everything, Jo!”

“I was right about what?” I whispered, completely confused.

She widened her eyes at me in disbelief... “You seriously don’t remember?” she sighed. “Remember when I told you about Bobby, our school’s physical education teacher’s excessive staring and how he always turned all flustered when I’m around...”

“Yeah...” I said waiting for her to continue.

“Well, you pointed out something really important,” she said, squeezing my hand as if she thought she had ringed a bell.

“Really? What was that?” I said.

Her smile faded away. “Come on, Joel! Fine! I’ll throw it out at you.”

She turned to her dresser on the other side of her bed, when my eyes suddenly laid on a massive rose bouquet on the table.

How on bloody Earth did I miss that?! My gift isn’t worth shit compared to that. And there was a massive gift basket along with it.

Little by little... I was starting to feel jealous, shut out, and replaced.

“Wow...” I smiled weakly, “who brought you those gifts?” I asked, knowing damn well who got it for her.

“Bobby did!” she squealed, touching the red petals. “They’re beautiful, aren’t they? And these are just the first...plenty more to come!

“Wow!” I said softly. “I guess you won’t be needing this, then.”

I tore open my gift exposing the pink dildo inside. She burst out in laughter and turned the on the machine.

“Really, Joel!” she chuckled. “I’ll still keep it...you know...when I need it.” she winked at me, but I couldn’t find within myself to smile like how I wanted. My whole mood had changed ever since I walk through the door.

She turned around and pulled out a small box that nearly made my heart sink, but not in a good way. It was a beautiful, shiny, rose gold, diamond-encrusted ring.

“Is that...what I think it is?” I said, feeling the jealousy and a little betrayal starting to flare within.

“YES!” She jumped, ecstatically on her bed. “That’s right! Bobby proposed to me! I didn’t want to wear it because I wanted to surprise you!”

I paused as reality suddenly struck me like a useless punching bag.

“That could only mean...you two are mates...”

“BINGO!” she exclaimed, holding up her arms. “Do you remember now! You were right! He was my mate all along!”

I tried to give her my warmest smile, but it pained me too much especially as my eyes glance at her neck.

She’d been marked. MARKED! It was the brightest mark I’ve ever seen.

“What do you think, Joel-y?” she said, taking my hand in hers. “He’s such a sweet, sweet guy, Joel! I know you’ll like him.”

I stepped back and took a few deep breaths. My heart feels like it was being crushed over and over again.

Could it be? Am I really getting heated and envious of my best friend’s happiness? I feel so rejected right now! I mean I’m all for her happiness...and I know it selfish of me, but what about mines? These past months have been nothing but hell for me! It’s getting even worse now that my birthday’s a few days away.

I hated this so much! Not only is my relationship being jeopardized, my friendship too! Sarah’s getting take away from me!

Look at that big love mark! Her smile and happiness. Those gifts. That huge ass ring! And to top it all off, her man was always by her side. It was the exact thing I wanted.

“Something wrong. Joel?” she said softly, brows furrowed deeply. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing...I’m fine...“I said, hearing a slight crack in my voice.

“No, you’re not fine...what’s wrong?” she repeated, reaching for my hand, but I rejected her so immaturely, pulling my arm away.

“I said...I’m fine!” I shouted.

“Who are you fooling?” she said. “It’s obvious you’re not! Shouting at me like I did something wrong?”

I clenched my jaw in irritation and jealousy. I finally latched out on her.

“Fine! When were you going to tell me that you were seeing the twerp...or whatever his name is...” I said.

“First of all...there’s no need for name-calling. His name is Bobby.”

“I don’t care!” I said rudely, folding my arms.

“Well, I do!” she replied. “He’s my mate!”

I looked away, mumbling quietly to myself.

“Where is all this coming from anyway?” she continued. “I thought you would happy for me, Joel...”

Still not being honest with my true feeling and laying everything out on the table, I ignored it and her feelings. Maybe then she’ll have a little dose of how I’ve been feeling lately. I know it’s a very narcissistic thing to do, especially to my best friend, but hurt people hurt people. Regardless of who they might be.

“Maybe I would have, if I didn’t have to find out like this?” I said.

“Like what? My engagement? About my mate?” her voice cracked. “Really, Joel? My birthday was just two days ago. Since then, everything changed drastically for me. I had no idea all of this was in store. And for one thing...I thought you as my friend would be thrilled.”

“Well, sorry...” I said in a disingenuous tone.

“You’re not sorry and you know it, Joel!” she said. “I’ve always been happy for you and Jackson!”

“Well if that’s so...that’s hard to believe, now that we’re recently not in a happy place!” I replied as the tears began to fall from my eyes.

Suddenly it came to her.

“I see...I’m so sorry Joel... I didn’t take into consideration how you would feel about all this, knowing your current situation.” she said in a soft tone.

“Well...don’t be, I’m fine!” I lied to her and myself.

“I’m being serious, Joel!” she said.

“Well, don’t be!”

“I’m you’re best friend, how can you tell me, ‘don’t be’?”

“BECAUSE IT DOESN’T CONCERN YOU!” I exclaimed. “Just like how you’re happiness does nothing for me...my situation does nothing for you!”

Hurt and anger crossed her face as I watched the tears started to form in her eyes.

“H-How could you say that?” she whimpered softly. “Because of your situation and me being a good friend, I’m in the hospital at this very moment!”

Though I felt terrible seeing her break down like this, a petty, immature part of me felt a bit satisfied and wouldn’t allow me to come clean and apologize.

“Well, stuff happens,” I said, shrugging my shoulders.

“STUFF HAPPENS?” she bellowed. “Joel, did you forget that I was the one who fought and stood for you when that Alpha had you dangling hopelessly by your hair?”

Something inside me snapped hearing her petty choice of words. “Dangling?”

“Yes, ‘dangling’! You were completely defenseless...desperate even!” She said in a condensing tone.

“Well, fine...call me whatever you like!” I said, rushing towards the door.

“I’m not saying whatever I like!” she said. “I’m telling you like it is! It’s not my fault the Moon Goddess chosen a good man like Bobby for me!”

“Thank the ‘Moon Goddess’, right.” I mocked her, feeling my confidence starting to crumble into pieces. “Yippie! You got your Prince Charming and your happily-ever-after. Let him wine and dine you...even fuck you senseless, day and night like you always dreamed for your mate to do.”

“And I bet he will...maybe you should take back your gift, you’ll probably need it more than I do!” She said coldly.

I stood there without any words to say as I felt my esteem getting chewed up and spit out like it was nothing.

She gasped loudly, covering her hands over her mouth in shame. “Joel... I-I’M SO SORRY!” she cried. “I’m sorry! Please!”

“Forget it...enjoy your perfect life...” I said, rushing out of the room door.

Maybe this was all meant to be!

A/N

Hello readers! What do you guys think of this Chapter?

How do you feel about Joel and Sarah little argument?

Can you really blame Joel for feeling the way she does?

Was Sarah last remark a little to much?

How do you think their friendship will go from here?

Don’t forget to Like, Comment, Review and Follow for more updates!

Read Chapter Eleven (Click the link below)

[ofnifflersandkings]

Title: Minor Set Back Character: Jake Peralta Previous Part: http://ofnifflersandkings.tumblr.com/post/164256777712/title-operation-match-making-character-jake

•

Jake leaned back in his desk chair, arms folded across his chest as a small pout took up his face. His gaze was cemented to your desk where you and Amy were having a conversation and laughing. His eyes narrowed and he pulled a face at Amy, who looked at him with a knowing smile before turning back to you.

After the first successful coversation over coffee, Jake had tried to do so again for the past week. But everytime he even thought about moving to the kitchen, Amy would rush past him, two coffee cups already in her hands so he couldn’t get to you.

“I hate that woman.” Jake mumbled to himself, nearly having a heart attack when Charles came rolling up in his chair behind him.

“Oh, so the romancing didn’t go too well?” He asked, observing the two ladies chat about something with happy faces. “I mean hey, you’ll find someone eventually, and at least Amy gets a friend.”

Jake swiveled his chair around. “What? No? I was talking about Santiago. I’m still trying to win over (Y/n).” His brows knitted together as he tried to scheme up a plan.

Charles nodded. “Huh, well didn’t you get her number? What did you learn about her?”

Jake sighed, casting his eyes down at his hands. “Not much, just that she’s kind of,” He paused, looking up at you mid laugh while he smiled. “Wonderful.”

Charles moved closer to him. “Really? Tell me about her?” He encouraged, practically bouncing in his seat at the prospect of his best friend having a crush on someone.

Jake turned around so he was facing him. “For one, she’s a total movie nut, we had an intense three hour debate on which Die Hard movie was best. She’s not that into sports but she let me rant about the Mets game.” He went on a small tangent about the fun conversations the two of you had been having over the phone for the past week.

He only broke off when he saw Charles looking at him with a weird expression on his face. “What? Why are you giving me that look. It’s getting creepy.”

Charles just sighed. “Nothing, so are you gonna ask her out?”

“I’d like to but,” Jake lazily pointed to Amy. “Santiago’s been keeping her from me, and I wanted to ask in person.”

Charles ears perked up and he straightened his tie. “My time has come, I got you covered, buddy.”

Jake was about to ask him what he meant but Charles had already abandoned his chair and walked over to the two of you.

Whatever he said to Amy must have worked because in an instant she was grabbing her jacket and was out of the door.

Charles looked back at Jake and gave him a dramatic wink along with a thumbs up before leaving you alone at your desk.

Jake watched you work for a moment, suddenly feeling very warm and nervous now that he no longer had an excuse to not ask you out.

He stood up from his chair, walking over to your desk and cracking his knuckles to try and distract himself before he totally psyched himself out of asking you.

“(Y/n)! Hey! Long time, no see.” Jake said, plopping into the chair beside your desk with a smile.

You looked up from your work and gave him a puzzled smile. “What do you mean? I said hello to you when I saw you this morning.”

Jake laughed nervously. “Haha, yeah. What I actually meant to say was that,” His mind was running a total blank like it usually did around you. “Santiago left pretty suddenly huh? That was super weird.”

You laughed, pulling out your drawyer and revealing a collection of dozens of pencils tied together in different piles. “I know right? Apparently there was some kind of technical situation at her apartment and she had to step out.”

Jake reaching into your drawyer, pulling out one of the wads of pencils and observing them. “How come you have so many of these little dudes? Don’t they all do the same thing.”

You gave him a smile and shook your head. “I guess you could say that, but certain pencils are more sheer while others come off darker, some of them have different variations in line shape,” You noticed he had a confused expression on his face and you chuckled. “And you don’t really care about any of this, do you?”

“No! I think it’s kind of cool,” Jake said, taking one of the pencils out of the stack and twirling it in his hands. “I think anything that comes out of your mouth sounds cool,” He instantly looked up at you. “And that definitely sounded less weird in my head.”

“Thank you regardless,” You said, starting another draft of a criminal sketch for a recent statement a witness gave you. “It’s nice to have a conversation with you in person for a change, I feel like all we really do is text one another.”

Jake perked up, accidentally dropping the pencil onto the ground. “Yeah! I totally agree, which is actually what I wanted to come over and talk to you about,” He picked the pencil off the groun and started fidgeting with it. “I thought since it was Friday, you might wanna come over to my place after work.”

You smudged off a bit of your picture and then smiled at him before taking your pencil back. “I don’t think I’m busy, but yeah I’d love to.”

Jake clapped his hands loudly. “Great! Sounds like a plan.” He was mentally congratulating himself for a successful task completed as he went back to his desk.

“Uh, Jake,” You called back to him.

“Yeah?”

“I kinda, have to know where you live to go there.”

Jake’s brows shot up. “Oh! Yeah! That would be helpful wouldn’t it?” He dug into his jacket pockets and pulled a slip of paper out of one, grabbing a pen and scribbling his address. “Come around 8:30?”

You took the paper. “Works for me.”

•

“How’d it go? I could only read your facial expressions but it looked fine.” Charles asked whenever Jake pulled him into the locked room.

Jake scratched the back of his head and resisted the urge to start pacing. “I mean I think? She’s coming around my place later tonight.”

“That’s great!” Charles said with a happy clap of his hands. “You know, if this ends up going well I call dibs on being the Best Man at your wedding.”

Jake shook his head. “Let’s think about the present right now, if we’re being honest here, I have no idea what I’m doing.”

“It’s just a date isn’t it? Just do what you usually do.”

That was when Jake remembered something about your conversation. “I never specified that it was a date.”

“What do you mean?”

“I just asked if she wanted to hang out at my place” Jake said with a groan, placing his hands on his head.

“Oh that’s bad,” Charles said with knit brows. “That’s really bad, I don’t even think I’ve done that.”

“Thanks for the support, Charles, I really appreciate it.”

“It’s okay! It’s a simple fix, just go clarify it to her now!”

Jake swallowed, and his hands suddenly felt very clammy. “Yeah,” He said with a totally unintentional voice crack. “Yeah, I can do that.”

Charles clapped a hand on Jake’s shoulder. “I believe in ya, buddy.” He encouraged before leaving the locker room.

•

Jake tried.

He really did.

But anytime he would come up to you again, he’d open his mouth and nothing would come out.

It was like his body was telling him not to do it, because then you’d probably call off the whole thing.

You didn’t have to stay at the precinct as long as the detectives did on Fridays, so when you started putting on your coat and packing up your things, Jake started to panic.

Amy looked over computer at him. “Hey, you don’t look to great? Something wrong?”

Jake was about to think of some elaborate excuse when you came up to their desks.

“Hey Amy, how’s your apartment?”

“Funny thing, I went over to check and the maintenance guy said everything was totally normal. I tried asking Charles about it but his eyes bugged out and then he ran away.”

You tilted your head. “Weird,” You went to say something to Jake, but you noticed he looked a little sick. “Jake, are you alright? If you’re not feeling well we can just reschedule our date.”

The color instantly returned to his face and he sat up straight in his chair. “Date?”

“Oh, is that not what it is?”

Jake saw the minor disappointment in your eyes and he could have broken out into song. “I would absolutely not mind it being a date.”

You smiled. “Good, after all, you still owe me a portrait. I’ll see you later.” You said with a wink before walking away.

Amy looked over at Jake. “Did you just wheeze?”

Jake, who was watching you walk away with the most dazed look on his face, turned back to Amy. “That is definitely a possibility.”

•

Next Part: http://ofnifflersandkings.tumblr.com/post/164772517257/title-late-for-the-date-character-jake-peralta

[hawaiianhalfwolf]

So what you're saying is, I'm your brand of heroin? | Noah & Reza

About three things Noah was absolutely positive.......

Toweling off his hair a little more Noah looked in the mirror for one last time checking to make sure he was presentable. If this was any normal night he’d be most likely be naked by now, obviously company warranted proper clothes. Or at least a pair of basketball shorts and a muscle tee. Hanging up his towel in his bathroom, Noah padded back across his room human ears pricked for the doorbell. He’d told Reza he could come over like an hour ago though maybe it took more time for the kid to get here than 30 minutes. Shrugging it off Noah went to scoop up the little foster pup from his position snoozing on his bed figuring it was best to just move everyone downstairs to wait. And of course it was only when he was halfway down the stairs did he hear it the faint chime of the doorbell that was only installed for Noah’s benefit, the little pup tucked under his arm starting to stir from all the noise. “Coming!” the boy called out as he ran down the last of the stairs Kea already beating him to the door “Back,” he commanded looking straight at her expecting her to do as she was told. And she did paws moving back a few steps, tail still wagging profusely. “Good girl” He praised before going for the door and opening it wide upon Reza. “Hello hello, long time no see.”

Reza would never admit to it but he'd shown up to Noah's house at the exact time given -- half an hour from their conversation-- and then proceeded to loiter around for another half hour. Mostly to avoid any unbearable situations, like accidentally disrupting Noah's shower early, but also because he didn't want to seem too eager. Which he was. Hanging around in that smelly hole of a basement he called home got lonely. Way lonely and cuddling it up with a dog was without a doubt the perfect solution. Talking to Noah didn't make things worse, either, since the older boy seemed to exist purely to spread positivity and kindness; something Reza really was lacking in his life at the moment. If only his traitorous thoughts would stop making him feel like hanging out with an admittedly handsome friend was in some way betrayal to a dead person. And really, person was a stretch. Jittery hands finally knocked on the door and Reza could immediately smell the mixed scent of dog, fresh shampoo and something his nose told him was Noah. "Hey," he greeted with a touch less enthusiasm, smile getting lost as his gaze quickly turned to the ground. "Thanks for letting me come over." Reza shifted on the doorstep, shrugging off his jacket as soon as he did to avoid it getting covered in dog hairs because no way was he not getting on his knees to pet the gorgeous dog wagging its tail, leaving him in the traditional black, skinny jeans and an even darker T-shirt (a personal favorite decorated with a sleeping cat and the words 'not today'). A sensation he knew by now, but was no less uncomfortable, told him that he couldn't pass the doorstep just yet. Noah hadn't explicitly invited him in which meant... yeah.

Moving away from the entrance so Reza could pass through Noah went to stand next to Kea happy she was waiting patiently. “It’s totally no problem dude.” He brushed off the gratitude smiling at the boy, because it really was no problem. “Plus you caught us on a quiet night, most of the time there’s at least 3 extra people milling about the kitchen eating our food, isn’t that right?” Noah cooed down at the little pup in his arms, his little snout giving a rather large yawn that made Noah’s heart practically melt in his chest. God he love puppies so much. Glancing back over at the kid he noticed he’s gotten rid of his jacket, a funny shirt and his general punk skinny jeans look underneath. And Noah would be lying if he didn’t feel that tingle, that small little wolf inside of him kinda wondering what all those clothes would look like on the floor. But he pushed that down. God. He really needed to get laid sometime soon so that shit stopped happening with his fucking friends. Shaking off the inner turmoil though Noah cocked his head at the boy outside. “So what are you a vampire now?” Noah teased looking at Reza standing stock still on the doorway. Most of his regular friends would have barged in by now, but then again Reza was not a normal friend, and maybe he just was super polite, yea maybe that was it. “Come on get in here before Kea explodes from excitement.” Noah said before turning and walking towards the couch making it plainly clear the Reza should come inside now. Oh and shut the door behind him too.

Reza quickly began to fidget, weighing the option of just turning on his heel and walking the other way because this was just... the worst. The puppy yawned with excitement and Reza decided to stay, if only for the dog. Something shifted in Noah's eyes for a second, pupils darkening and for a moment Reza wondered if it was realization dawning behind his eyes. Did Reza's reluctance -- or inability-- to enter somehow out him as a vampire? Holy... “So what are you a vampire now?” A... a joke? Noah was joking. Obviously. He didn't know, how could he. The offer to step inside was accepted without hesitation, Reza shuffling inside with an awkward laugh. "A vampire. Yeah, for sure. I'm the one creeping outside your window every night." Cringing at himself, Reza simply turned all his attention to the dog instead of trying to fix that mess of a sentence. He was greeted vigorously by the door, a genuine laugh slipping past his lips as paws scrabbled for Reza, tongue slobbering towards his face. "Hey, there, girl How are you? You are absolutely gorgeous," he cooed, the built up tension and nervousness easing slightly as his cold fingers wrapped into the soft fur.

“You know if you wanted to see me naked all you had to do was ask.” Noah quipped playfully over his shoulder as he walked over to the couch the little foster puppy in tow with him while Haukea stayed by the door. Blanching a little though at the realization of what he just said, to Reza, someone who thought he was weird for giving a compliment Noah instantly backtracked “And I swear that was totally a joke” He said turning around so Reza could see the seriousness in his eyes. Holding it for a moment Noah resumed his task, sitting down and making himself comfortable. That and reminding himself that Reza was not one of his bros. He didn’t get the humor and the subtle gay undertones that were a part of Noah’s everyday life with his friends. Looking over at Haukea though (as she totally ignored her training and jumped on Reza, hed had to go over that with her again) Noah realized again where he was failing  “Oh my god. You’ve never met Haukea have you.” Noah asked over the side of the couch practically face palming himself “Wow. My total bad dude. So yea that’s Haukea, she loves long walkies and taking up half of whatever you are sitting on. So don’t say you weren’t warned” Noah grinned over at the pair happy that Kea might have have a part in making the poor kid smile.

"That's not what I..." Reza started defensively, cutting himself off short as he remembered that Noah liked his jokes a bit underneath the belt. So this was a joke. Obviously. Noah quickly confirmed that he hadn't been serious but Reza was still rigid as a stick. Man, this was exhausting, wading through weird hoops of compliments and sexual jokes delivered so casually that they made him sort of choke on his own spit. His attention turned back to the dog, a much safer area than pretty much all conversation with Noah, a smile returning to Reza's face. "She can take up all the space she wants." Nuzzling her head with his forehead before the dog bounded back to Noah, Reza stood up and brushed off his jeans. He felt pretty exposed wearing nothing but a T-shirt but putting on his jacket would make it seem like he was itching to leave right away. Hands in his pockets, Reza loitered over to the couch, glancing to the puppy joining Noah on the couch. "And, uh, who's that then?"

Ignoring the slightly awkward atmosphere that came about with his joke Noah focused on making himself more comfortable on the couch.Turning his back toward the armrest Noah spread his legs slightly placing the small pup on the space between his chest and his knees. Yea that was a lot more comfortable, though that still left Reza over by the door while Noah was taking up half the couch.. “You shouldn’t say that.” Noah replied to Reza with a playful shake of his head hoping the kid would get the memo that he could come into the living room. “Because next thing you know she’ll be pushing you out of a queen sized bed. Huh you little bed stealer ” He gave Haukea a nice head scratch as she passed already jumping up into her usual spot at Noah’s feet. But that’s not what Noah wanted. “Down.” Noah commanded with a finger snap the second her paws touched the couch. “Reza gets to chose where he sits first then you can squeeze your ass in whatever space is available” He told her as if she understood, but he guessed that was less for her benefit and more for Reza’s. Because while there were few of fluffy pillows strewn about the floor (from the last pack meeting), and a rather large looking armchair tucked in the corner (Cahill’s chair) Noah kinda wished Reza would sit with him on the couch. You know. Like Friends did. Looking down at the speckled puppy trying to find a good sport on his chest Noah huffed a little, the pups name a sore spot in his eyes “Well technically his name at the barn was Granite, but I’m not sure if I like that for him.” He frowned at the puppy slightly “Though I probably shouldn’t rename him if I’m fostering, don’t want to become too attached you know”

"I don't need..." A bed? Sleep? Not things you can say, Reza, "...that much space, to be honest. Perks of being a skinny, small guy." Usually, he was more comfortable curled up on the edge of a mattress, anyway. As Haukea was commanded to the floor, Reza frowned, her big, sad dog eyes tugging at his sympathy. Noah's following statement made him shift awkwardly as he wondered if Mister Big and Burly wanted Reza to squeeze into the couch with him. That plan had so many flaws, including but not exclusive to Reza's cold skin, Reza being that close to someone with a beating heart (blood bag or no, his gums still itched at the thought) and Reza being mildly terrified of the thought of human contact since... Yeah, Reza on the couch wasn't happening. "Aw, I don't have the heart to leave her on the floor," he excused himself, taking a seat crosslegged on a pillow facing Noah. It felt instantly more comfortable, perhaps in part because this was the similar set up he'd had with Heath while watching TV and no, comparing Noah to him in any way or form was not an option. "What if I rename him?" he blurted out to escape from pit in his head that had slowly cracked open, "that way it's not exactly yours but you get to call it something else?"

Noah couldn’t help but chuckle a bit at Reza chalking up the small pause in between his phrases as just the punk teen being awkward again. “Well the concept of not needing much space that has become completely foreign to me since puberty,” He admitted with a shrug ruffling the fluffy ears of the puppy in his lap. Watching closely as Haukea used her eyes Reza though Noah opened his mouth to say something but instantly shut it, knowing that he probably had fucked on on this one.  Because offering couch space to Reza was too forward wasn’t it? It was too intimate and too. It was too much of what Noah liked and what Noah needed, and probably none what Reza needed. So taking the small sense of hurt and rejection and burying it deep down Noah just spread his legs out in front of him the pup in his lap nipping lightly at Noah’s leg as it moved. “Well your loss dude.” He joked out casually “Especially since she’s definitely manipulating you.” Noah looked over towards Haukea the lab smiling between both Noah and Reza almost happy she got her way. But he could never be mad at that face for long “Yea cuz you would have been just fine spread eagle over the top of us on the couch wouldn’t you?” He cooed as he gave her a couple good neck scratches with his outstretched hand. Feeling Granite start to puppy chew on his other hand Noah glanced over to Reza mulling his proposition over in his mind  “I mean if you want to? I mean. I guess. I don’t know.” Noah rambled knowing he was making no sense whatsoever, “But I guess what I mean to say is If you feel like you have a good one I’m definitely open to it.

Reza watched the dog for a moment as it made itself comfortable, wondering if he was really that easily manipulated that a canine could overpower his will. No, this had been a decision based purely on not having to plop onto the sofa next to Noah. Reza wasn't the pushover he'd been -- how could he be considering what he'd become? Besides, that big ball of fluff wasn't capable of real manipulation, anyway. Brushing off the cord the statement had struck within him, Reza focused on the name-giving instead. "Hey, woah, I never said I had a good one. Just trying to be a problem solver." Leaning back, palms flat against the floor, he thought it over. A lot of names he'd have given his own pets came to mind but this was Noah. Maybe it didn't need to be too complicated, though... "I think, and don't cite me on this, that in Hebrew, Caleb means like, wolf or dog or something. So it's like naming your cat Cat."

“Well you’re in the Kalani household now kid, we expect perfection” Noah teased out towards Reza a sly grin on his face. It was hopefully taken as the joke it was, mostly because he really did appreciate the help however small. And he was glad reza was starting to get comfortable with him enough to suggest things. Contemplating the suggestion though Noah bit his lip slightly “You know I never thought about Caleb. I mean I usually name my animals funny things in Hawaiian and not funny things in Hebrew.” Noah smiled looking down at Haukea (aka little miss Snow White) fondly. Well that was before Granite puppy chewed at his fingers again bringing the older boy’s attention back to him “But maybe you could be the one that breaks the mold huh buddy.” He cooed moving his hands a bit so the pup had to move some to pin them. “So hebrew huh? Do you actually know the language or are you like a name researcher” He asked glancing over at Reza.

Reza felt immensely relieved that Noah liked the name, feeling pretty happy to have put something nice into this household. Even though it wasn't permanent but maybe the name would stick. Eyeing the dog with envy, knowing that there was no way he could take care of a dog -- not to mention a puppy-- Reza ripped himself out of those thoughts. Yes, having something to cuddle in the damp hole of a basement would make everything tremendously improved but he couldn't do that to the poor thing, bringing it into those living conditions. He didn't want to think about what else could go wrong, having a live animal around him at all times. The blood bags weren't necessarily going to be a plan forever. "Uh, neither? I do know some Arabic and the two are pretty similiar in a lot of ways so... I mean, I have researched names but like... only pet names since that was kinda all I wanted when I was younger. And now, too, I guess." He smiled, eyes flicking back to the puppy trying to devour Noah's hand and failing completely.

Glancing over toward Reza Noah could see his eyes on the pup, the longing almost palpable and Noah knew what he had to do next. Lifting Granite/Caleb off of his chest the older boy placed him on the floor in a small unceremonious gesture scooting the pup toward the boy “Here go terrorize your sister and Uncle Reza for a change.” He mock whispered to the pup as Haukea lifted her head from her spot, tail thumping against the ground in anticipation for puppy play time with her new little foster brother. Settling back into his dog free zone on the couch Noah scooted forward his head now resting on a pillow against the headrest, his long ass legs dangling slightly from the other end.    “Thats pretty cool.” He commented though once Reza started talking about his language skills “I mean I’ve never tried Arabic, but I give you mad props for trying, cuz it looks hard as fuck.” Turning he resettled himself so he was facing Reza and not the ceiling “I do get the pet name thing though, cuz my dad was always asking me to name the strays left at his clinic. So I’d go online and take a few days to pick out like what I thought was the perfect name and he’d be like… you know you could have just picked something easy like Bob” Noah recalled with a smile, heart aching slightly at the fact that that was only a memory now.

Reza accepted the pup trotting over with welcoming arms, chuckling as it stumbled over his legs. "Hey," he whispered to Caleb, scratching his head. "Hmm? Oh, it's easier when your parents speak the language. I mean, I'm rusty as fuck these days but..." Shrugging, Reza saved his fingers from the relentless puppy's chewing to pull down the collar of his shirt. "I kid myself that I'm keeping the language alive by getting tattoos in urdu, like my mom's name here. I also have a quote on my ribs but, uhm..." Reza let his shirt fall back over his collarbone, clearing his throat. "Yeah, you can just imagine that one. So, uh, Bob the dog. Doesn't have as good of a ring to it as Caleb the dog." Smooth transition there, big guy. Reza really did like talking about his tattoos but he wasn't going to start... stripping for Noah to show them off.

Looking at Reza Noah smiled a little glad that the Caleb was having a good time with his guest. “Yea i’ll bet” Noah mumbled out into the couch a little sad that his dad didn’t speak more Hawaiian to him, or that his mom completely forgot her Turkish due to being adopted young. Eye tracking Reza though he stared at deft fingers pulling down his shirt collar to show him his urdu tattoo, that was actually quite beautiful. Trying not to stare to hard though Noah focused on the symbolism of the tattoo and not the pale skin underneath especially when Reza started blushing about the quote on his ribs.  “Dude don’t kid yourself.” Noah shook his head sitting up on the couch  “I mean first thing I’m doing when I get off of football this year is go and get my family’s tribal pattern on my chest and shoulder in honor of my dad. So like I get it.” He grinned at the other boy before the light bulb went off in his head “Which speaking of, do you know any good artists that know about polynesian tattoos?” He asked Reza ears perking up slightly at the sound of the door opening. It was Charlie one of the pack members coming through the door. “Looking for extra poker chips?” Noah called out to him pre-empting the mans questioning. It was poker night for Cahill and his male pack members, and of course the Alpha would send someone else to collect the things Noah told him he should bring in the first place. Typical. Standing there like the lumberjack wonder he was Charlie looked a little confused, hand rubbing in his beard, before he nodded, eyes never straying from Reza “Up the stairs in the hall closet” Noah pointed, as if this was the most casual thing in the world to him. Slowly Charlie climbed the stairs leaving Reza and Noah back to their talking “Don’t mind him, that’s just Charlie, a friend of my Uncles” Noah said waving it off as it if was nothing.

Reza perked up when Noah asked about a tattoo artist, the thought of actually being able to give someone good advice on something he knew and knew well filling him with a euphoric purpose. "Dude, yeah! I've seen so many great tattoos when I've been browsing and--" The door slammed and Reza's newly found energy escaped his body like a deflating balloon. Someone was home? Reza hadn't been prepared for anyone other than Noah and some dogs. The very tall, very burly man that appeared in the door caused every muscle in Reza's body to tense, his fingers wrapping up in Caleb's fur. The fact that this bearded man wasn't moving his eyes off Reza's face despite how uncomfortable the vampire clearly looked wasn't helping the situation. Even when the freezing stare left him, Reza still sat completely still, almost inhumanly so, only snapping back to reality when Caleb started to squirm. "Hmm? Yeah, it's... fine. Just... fine." Caleb starting licking at Reza's hand, clearly sensing the discomfort. With his brain slowly calming down after the disheartening staring contest, Reza became acutely aware of the smell in the room that seemed to have intensified with Charlie's arrival. It was the same smell Reza had subconsciously started connecting to Noah, only much stronger. Was this... were the both of them not... human? Did Reza's nose know more than he did?

Smiling at the boy Noah tried to keep the conversation going, mistaking Reza’s silence for the possibility that he was just uncomfortable. Which Noah thought was fair enough, not everyone lived with such an open door policy as the Kalani Pack did after all, and that could be startling at first. Just all the people coming and going. “That’s good though,” Noah commented after Charlie bounded up the stairs “I mean I want to make sure it’s done, well, respectfully and as authentically as possible though so it’s like.” Noah shrugged “I almost feel like i should fly to Hawai’i and get to done there just to be safe or something”

"Yeah, mhm," Reza replied with disinterest, ears now perked for any sound from the broody Charlie. Something in him was tingling, telling him to run, probably just his paranoia but he was definitely on edge. "Hawaii sounds fun and--" Footsteps thumped back down the stairs and Reza tensed, with Caleb cuddling into his lap, probably expecting something dangerous to happen just because of Reza's reaction. Charlie appeared back downstairs and Reza's eyes locked onto the dogs, in the hopes of avoiding another staring contest. As soon as Charlie left, Reza could politely excuse himself and bolt. Even though he could already imagine Noah's big, sad eyes reacting to that announcement.

Watching Reza tense again as Charlie came back down the stairs Noah couldn’t help but be concerned. He didn’t know much about Charlie only that the 30-something man had swept in from Montana 5 years ago after his wife left him. Apparently she wasn’t a fan of werewolves, which was sad, but luckily Charlie found the right man to bring his car into for repairs. Funnily enough the rest was history. But that didn’t mean Noah felt as at ease around Charlie as he did other members of the pack. Charlie was. Well he was just Charlie. Stoic and obedient. Didn’t talk much. Which was a shame because he always looked like he had something to say under that rugged beard. Like he did right now standing at the bottom of the stairs a troubled look on his face. “Hey before I go,” Charlie paused coming a bit closer “Um did you happen to tell Cahill about this?” He asked swinging a finger in both of their directions.  Glancing over the side of the couch to where Charlie was standing Noah gave a confused stare. “Tell Cahill what? About me having someone over?” He asked not really knowing what the big deal was about. He was 22 after all well past the age where he needed to tell Cahill about each and every one of his playdates “No I meant about you being here with” Charlie’s eyes flickered slightly toward Reza, giving Noah the all so subtle hint that it had something to do with the boy on the ground “I dont know what you’re-”” Noah until. Shit. Fuck. Did Charlie mean, no, he couldn’t be. Trying to stop his brain from exploding inside of his skull Noah stood hand in the air the a look of pure panic written all over his face  “we’re totally not like dating or fucking if that’s what you mean I swear we’re just friends I mean I’m not even g-” “Stop,” Charlie stopped him with his free hand eyes wide “I totally did not mean that,” He clarified before his face soften “though If you were to be dating men now I would be totally fi-” Noah could feel all of the blood rush out of his body at that exact second. “Do not finish that sentence for the love of all that is holy,” He blurted over the top of Charlie, the look of panic still caught in his eyes. Because nope he was not doing this here, like this, in front of Reza ok. I mean not that he minded coming out to Reza since it seemed like the boy wouldn’t judge but just. Yea no, Nope. Not the time not the place “Just tell me what you meant before and we’ll consider everything good.” Noah continued lips pursed in a line now. But it was Charlie who now  looked confused “You mean you can’t feel it?” Looking at Charlie and Noah couldn’t help but shake his head, an eyebrow raised to illustrate his own emotions on the subject “Feel what?” He asked turning to Reza wondering if the boy had any insight.

It was definitely time to freak out now, Reza decided, as Charlie asked his 'before I go' question. Really, it was some sort of miracle that Noah hadn't found him out yet, since Reza felt like he just radiated these awkward vibes of 'I'm not human.' Avoiding Charlie's accusing gaze, mind screaming fire and setting off every alarm, Reza couldn't help but wonder just how this very large man had deducted Reza's secret after being here for literally five minutes. It had to mean that he wasn't human and neither was Noah... Noah, who was now on his feet and Reza realized he hadn't been listening to what was transpiring, instead just preparing for imminent doom, but his friend (?) was blushing like crazy and maybe this wasn't about him being a vampire? Did Charlie think this was a... date? Noah was close to screaming now and Reza's muscles were all tensed for escape, his eyes starting to flit to the door. Charlie had made it clear that he wasn't showing an interest in Noah's love life. He was showing an interest in the vermin Noah had brought into their house. “Feel what?” Noah asked and as soon as his attention turned to Reza, the vampire was on the move, scrambling to his feet around the confused puppy and bolting to the door. He heard Charlie approaching before he saw him, barrelling into the muscular chest now blocking the door. His stance went defensive -- primal-- as Charlie growled deep from his throat. The other dogs whined at the sound and Reza could feel his eyes flashing red. Shit. “You let him invite you into his home. His den-” Charlie paused, taking a deep breath, his hackles coming down slightly. Reza didn't relax one bit. “You owe him an explanation. You owe him that much at least. And if you don’t tell him I will." Shoulders still hunched, eyes red and narrowed, Reza resisted the urge to hiss. He should just let him leave, this was completely unnecessary. "Just let me leave," he half-growled under his breath, for Charlie's ears only, voice almost pleading.

Watching it all unfold like a bad horror film, Reza must have been supernatural with the way he moved Noah’s eyes barely registering he’d left before he was clashing at the door with Charlie. And Noah was up in an instant mind going straight to how he could de escalate the situation instead of anything else. Or rather just get Reza to somewhere safe and not staring down the barrel of 250 pounds of angry werewolf. Wedging himself in between the two men Noah kept his eyes on Charlie, hands reaching out behind him to start pushing Reza’s torso, hoping the other boy would get the hint that he needed to back away and back away now. “Stand Down Charlie” Noah growled out a certain venom to his words. In purer werewolf terms he was outranked for sure. But this was still his house, and Noah was. Well Noah was the punk ass kid who challenged his Alpha all the time, so he wasn’t going to let some lowly pack member try to tell him what was best for his world. Not now, not ever. “Noah” Charlie growled out as if to test his resolve. But noah was not backing down No sir. “Do not fucking Noah me right now. This is my house. I outrank you by default.” He was staring straight at Charlie now as if daring him to challenge his authority in his own fucking house. Luckily for all of them though Charlie had enough sense to know when he was beaten and silently looked away waiting for Noah to clean up the mess he’d just made. Taking a deep breath Noah kept his eyes on Charlie but spoke for the boy behind him. “Reza, if you need to leave the back slider is open. You can go down the porch, and take a right around the struts, there’s a gate to the drive way in that general direction. If you just need somewhere safe my room is at the top of the stairs 2nd door on the left. No one but me is allowed to be in there.” The last part was emphasized not for Reza’s benefit but for Charlie’s, as they all knew the house rules. Noah’s bedroom was off limits unless invited. Even for Cahill the alpha.

Noah's hand on his torso made Reza cringe away, his body still pulled taut like a string waiting to snap. A part of him wanted a fight, convinced he could at least get a few good hits -- or bites-- in, but Noah being in the way stopped him. It took his panicked and anger-run brain a moment to realize that Noah wasn't trying to defend Charlie; he was defending Reza. Deflating like a popped balloon, Reza took a few steps back, eyes fading back to brown. The word 'leave' snapped his attention because yes, yes Reza needed to leave. The primal part of his brain was still lit up like a Christmas tree and that scared whatever logic was left in his brain; no way did he want this situation to escalate. He backtracked a few more steps, feeling Charlie's gaze burning his face. "I'm sorry," he muttered under his breath, turning on his heel and bolting for the back slider. As soon as he burst outside into the fresh air, his head cleared, managing to work through some of what he'd just witnessed. Charlie was an... animal. A werewolf. Which had to mean that Noah was one, too. And Charlie could have killed him. But he didn't. Because of Noah. Noah had protected him, even after most likely realizing that Reza wasn't human either; that Reza had lied. Realizing that he was still sprinting, Reza slowed down, finally slumping down to the ground. He could still see the barnhouse in the distance but he couldn't find the strength to get up, mind still reeling. His secret was out to Noah. And Reza had no idea what would happen now.