#huh come to think of it Olive is probably gonna end up being the one who everyone can depend on asks for advice for comfort

[clouds-oc-corner]

...help I am starting to have ships for my ocs

[melanieph321]

Dusan Vlahovic x Reader - Boss Me Around Part 1/6

I'm so excited for this one!🤭

Reader is a former yacht girl now newly moved to Turin, Italy for her job as a real-estate accountant. There she meets Dusan Vlahovic, a former client of hers, a client she never thought to see again. However, with Dusan being Readers new boss their past becomes a liability. Nevertheless the spark between them still lives. This story is a romcom with both His and Her POV!

Enjoy!

Miami did get a little crazy in the summer, thankfully it was your last year being a yacht girl. Yupp, you were keeping your promise. Once you were out of college you were putting your flip flops on a shelf and stuffing your bikini in the back of your pantie drawer. It was time to grow up and stop treating life like a circus. It was time to get a real job.

"But you'll still visit me when you move to Italy, won't you?" Izzy said, as the two of you shared a scooter on your way to the marina.

"Are you kidding? With my new salary I'm flying you out to visit me. We'll have so much fun together in Turin."

Although it was considered a job, you had formed many great friendships through yachting. Izzy was your best friend in the game, the one you never road without. If it hadn't been for Izzy teaching you the ways of the yachting game, you might as well have ended up in some really bad situations that a lot a girls do whilst seeking the fast way to earn some cash. It was important not to get too in awe of the experience. Izzy had tought you that. Izzy had also taught you that the biggest mistake girls in yachting did was fall in love with a client, a mistake you were thankful you had avoided throughout your career. Although college boys never realky gained your interest either.

"So who's this guy anyway?" You asked. "A nepo baby looking to party?"

"More like a self made billionaire. Raul says he owns like half of Serbia when it comes to real-estate."

"Impressive." You nodded. Your last job as as a yacht girl would be a breezer. It was easier to deal with rich entrepreneurs than spoiled nepo babies who believed to rule the world.

Or so you thought.

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

"I think they're here." Alex said, looking over the boat deck, keeping an eye out for the girls. Once he spotted them Dusan rose from his taning bed, on his way to alert the crew to prepare the boat for departure.

"There's only two of them." Alex said, looking displeased as he returned from the deck, approaching his friend.

"Yes, one for you and one for me." Dusan said, pointing between the two of them.

"Man, you really have gone soft." Alex sighed. He was already suprised to be invited for a fun day out on his friend's new yacht, only to find the vessel empty of people if you excluded the crew members. "What happened to the old Dusan?" He said. "The one that likes to party. The one that taught me that the more the merrier, huh?"

Dusan chuckled. "I guess he's retired."

"At twenty four? How sad."

"Look, we can still have a good time. The girls said that they were up for anything."

"Yeah, but if I know you you're probably gonna ask them to watch you take a nap."

Dusan shook his head, a smile in his lips.

"When did you get so boring man, is that what a billion dollar empire does to you?"

Dusan opened his mouth to get back at his friend but that's when they heard voices below.

"Hello, anybody home?"

"Up hear!" Dusan shouted, a minute passing before they heard footsteps climbing the stairs. Two girls emerged, dressed in nothing but strips of fabric,  bikini's barley covering enough.

"Hi, I heard you guys were looking to party." The blond one said. Her hair was cut short with several tattoos covering her arms.

"Yeah, that's us." Alex grinned.

"Well, the party has arrived." She cheered.

Dusan had nothing against girls with short and bleached hair, but tattoos never did it for him.

"Great. How would you girls like your martinis?"

"Dry." The blond girl was quick to make clear. "And no olives."

"Got it, dry and no olives. How about your friend?"

All eyes turned to the second girl who's presence hadn't been as notisble as her friend. But now that he had his eyes in her, Dusan found it almost impossible to diverge his attention from her.

"Y/N?"

"Huh?" The girl seemed distracted,  her gaze having stuck to a point below Dusan's chin. He wasn't wearing a shirt,  only swimming trunks. Perhaps she found it rude, him introducing himself half naked. Not that she was any better.

"What drink do you want?" Her friend asked, in a bit if a rush to get the party started. The crew was heard above their heads,  the yacht would set sail at any minute now.

"S...ame as you." The girl stuttered. Her voice was unique. It was quite deep but in a very feminine way.

"No olives?" Her friend confirmed.

"No olives." The girl nodded. Her friend then followed Alex downstairs to the bar, leaving Dusan with no trail of thought in the presence of the girl which his eyes had yet diverge from.

"You have a very nice boat." She said,  trying to somther the rise of an awkward silence.

"Um, thank you." Dusan said, clearing his throat. "It's new actually."

"I can see that." She seemed fairly fascinated, as she dared approach the boats railing, admiring the view of Miami Beach.

"Yeah, how so?" Dusan asked, joining her side. But instead of admiring the view, he couldn't help but to admire her. She had eyes that sparked something within him, a sudden thrill.

"What do you mean?" A frown ruined her face.

Dusan felt the need to make himself clear. "You said that you could tell that my yacht is brand new,  how so?"

"Oh." She turned for her back to rest against the railing, her eyes now wandering across the newly swiped deck. "Well, it's every billionaires dream to own a boat and put it on display in Miami, or am I wrong?"

"I don't know." Dusan smiled. He was quite entertained. "I've never heard of this fenomenon. Surley the expert is you considering your experience with billionaires and boats."

The girl's eyebrow rose with interest, however Dusan's slik comment did not seem to have insulted her.

"Perhaps it's not every billionaires dream." She said, turning her head to face him. Again, her eyes sparked a thrill within Dusan, a thrill he was more than excited to explore. "But it sure is every newly crowned billionaires dream."

He wrinkled his nose.

The girl had a twinkle in her eyes. "My friend googled your net worth on our way here."

"I see." Dusan nodded. "Fair enough. I may or might not have bought this yacht in honor of my business flourishing this past year. However I'm not planning on docking it in Miami for display."

"Your gonna sail it across the seven seas?"

Dusan snorted, unintentionally of course. How did she make him do that? Her comment caught him of gaurd. "Not really." He said, collecting himself. "I'll have a friend of mine bring it home for me. He's more of a professional."

"Yeah, that's probably a better idea. Sailing a boat through pirate infested waters can be tricky without experience."

Again, the girl made him chuckled. It was pathetic how tipsy he came across. The girl must smell the glass of champagne he had earlier on his breath and think he's one of those creeps to invite yacht girls on their boats just to get them drunk. He had to assure her that he wasn't like that. He had to assure her that she could feel safe with him.

"We got martinis!"

Just as he was about to ensure her safety, the girl's friend showed up, followed by Alex who carried a tray of filled glasses. "Let's get this party started!" He said, handing out the drinks, making sure everyone had a glass in their hand for a toast. "To a lovely day, spent with two lovely girls." He said, as cheesy as ever.

"Cheers to that!" The blond girl said, rasing her glass.

Before downing his drink Dusan turned to her friend, making sure that she looked to be having a good time as well. He was suprised to find her smiling at him, an empty martini glass in her hand. "Drink up." She winked.

Dusan did exactly that. He would do whatever she asked him to, whatever.

[starpirateee]

Hey! Could I request a continuation of the shitty cops fic where one/both of them come out to the other? I really like their dynamic + how you write them :)

I mean, if you must... /j

Okay okay I kid. I still hate Sam Sweetly, but the shitty cops shippers have found me, so... Here's to living peacefully?

"Nah, y'know, I don't think you'd have been the only one to ralph after seeing that shit."

Sam smirked like his cocky edge had never been lost. "What's the matter, Oliver? Scared of a little blood?"

Bailey rolled his eyes. In confrontation with Sam, he found it best to rely on his instinct to keep him going. Sam didn't have the necessary number of braincells to actually think about a response, so often it was just best if he didn't think either. "I'm not the one of us who got a weak stomach over some kid." He said, matter-of-factly.

Sam lost his cool then. He'd had enough of this shit from Farris before he left the scene, which was the main reason why he hadn't told Bailey. Because Bailey was an absolute bastard for this kind of senseless drama, and he knew he'd turn it into some kind of huge deal.

So, he turned on him, grabbing both lapels of his leather jacket and digging his fingers in deep. In a couple of lengthy strides, he had him pinned against the wall, inches away from that stupid face of his. "Listen to me good, fucker. You don't get to say shit about me, cos I know you're nothing better. Think you're all high and mighty, but you're nothing more than a shit scared little pansy."

Bailey smirked as he felt his back collide with the wall, gazing intently into Sam's icy cold eyes. "You don't have shit on me, you greasy fucking rat."

"Wanna bet?"

"Go on, then. What've you got?"

"You didn't do that case last year in that old fuckin' house, cos you can't stand the thought of ghosts. Fucking ghosts! They're not even real!" He scoffed, pushing harder and really selling the point of driving him into the wall. 

Bailey's head ended up inches away from slamming into the wall, and for a moment, his smirk faltered, but he managed to regain his edge. He had him with that one, though how he'd found out was another matter entirely. "Doug didn't go either. What, you gonna accuse them of some bullshit claim like being scared of ghosts too?"

"How the hell d'you know they didn't go, huh?"

"Cos I was here all day, wise guy. So were they."

Sam heard footsteps behind him. Bailey watched Shapiro walk down the corridor and stop just behind Sam. He had the gall to nod at her, forcing Sam to scowl.

"Sweetly, Bailey... If you're gonna fuck each other on work hours, at least keep it private, huh?"

Immediately, Sam flushed a violent shade of crimson red. Bailey laughed so hard he snorted, and managed to shift when Sam's guard dropped enough that he loosened his grip.

"The hell you mean, fuckin'?!" Sam growled, turning his gaze. "Him?" He nodded over his shoulder to an amused looking Bailey, but didn't seem to catch his expression. "I've got standards. This ain't it."

"That's a bar you'd have to jump over just to meet," Bailey retorted, one eyebrow raised. "And even then, you wouldn't come close."

"Shut the fuck up you cocky bastard." Despite the way his tone hadn't changed, there was a part of Sam that was rather glad for his pissed off front right now, because he was quite surprised to have been proven wrong in his assumptions.

Bailey was very much the kind of man who would loudly protest he wasn't into men if that was the case. The fact that his comment was only followed by another- albeit laced in more smugness- sparked a certain curiosity. He looked right into Bailey's eyes and watched the fluorescent lights dance in their depths.

Oh no. Not today. He hadn't had a proper kick at romance since he was seventeen. It was a kid's game. He was not going to start again today.

Besides, Bailey's eyes couldn't even decide whether they wanted to be green or brown. It was stupid. Probably for the best that he wore those shades so often...

"Make me." Bailey muttered in a way that almost made him blush harder. He knew what was going on here, he could see it in the way Sam's cocky demeanour broke.

Sam let go, but not before one last shove, about as hard as he could manage. Then he stormed off, leaving Bailey trying to get his breath back, and Shapiro still standing in the corridor, watching him go.  

"He's a... Fucking mess," he heaved. The laugh that followed sounded pathetically weak, but he supposed he did tell Sam to make him shut up, and he didn't seem the type to man up and kiss the breath out of him. He stood up and straightened himself out. "God, you could... Smell the whiskey on that fucker."

Shapiro raised an eyebrow. "Are you into that, Oliver?"

Bailey stopped dead in his tracks, and shot back a glance that looked twice as offended as he felt. Maybe he could find himself into it, but god forbid, he wasn't going to admit that, especially not to Shapiro of all people. "I have standards too, y'know..."

"Sure you do, Bailey. Sure you do..."

"Hey! you don't seriously think I'd go after that bastard, do ya? He should be the one comin' after me." His shoulder blades felt tense after being slammed so fervently against the wall, but for some reason, he couldn't say he hated the feeling.

It only took him a few minutes to get his breath back, but his shoulders ached for a good hour afterwards. Long after he walked away, long after he tried to make a plan to avoud Sam as much as physically possible... It wasn't going to be easy in such a small space, but god was he going to try.

Because if there was one thing he knew about Sam Sweetly, it was that, if there was a bar for standards, he would work his cocky ass off to vault that bar.

And there was a damn good chance that he'd clear it too...

That was not something he was going to think about. That was something he couldn't afford to think about.

[dragonsdomain]

Out of Office, chapter 7

AO3

Chapter 6

"Who's gonna be the one to explain to Linda why all three of her guests are now senseless on the couch?" Oliver asked.

He and Joy were now standing as spirits several feet from each of their bodies. While Oliver was glad to see that Luke was okay(ish), and the colors were fun (Joy was a pretty shade of blue, and Oliver was green), things were happening fast, and there were a lot of parts of the situation that still needed to be worried about.

"Please don't tell her the truth about it all," Sean asked, blowing on his fingers after making two extra guardian flowers in a row. "It was hard for her to find closure after I died, and I don't want her having to worry about me still being around."

Joy raised an eyebrow. "No wonder you and Eugene are friends... uh, fine. Okay. We'll come up with a lie of some kind. Eugene might have to be the one to tell her though. Eugene? Do you think you could tell her we had a long day or something and were super tired?"

Eugene was curled up on the couch, half in his body. "Uhuh," he wheezed, struggling to keep his eyes open.

Oliver turned back to Luke. "Okay, so. Evil ghost monster kidnapped a ghost friend and now we have to go save her."

"Because if we don't, Eugene will try to, which in his current state would be really dumb and end badly," Joy added.

Eugene grumbled something from the couch.

"You can't just go after that thing unarmed," Sean said nervously. "Eugene, did you happen to bring any of the Office's ghost artifacts?"

Eugene wordlessly dug in his pockets and pulled out a black fan, a lock of dark hair looped in a knot, and a cloth hat of some kind.

Sean floated over and took them from him. "Thanks, Eugene. We'll be sure to keep them safe. You can sleep now, if you want."

Eugene glared and stubbornly kept sitting upright.

"What are those?" Luke asked, walking over.

"Some ghosts (usually strong ones) have items from their life that gain power after they die. They can do a number of things," Sean explained. "This fan can seal hostile ghosts in it and also be used as a weapon in a pinch. The hair can be used to trap and entangle ghosts, or fling them, if you want. This hat lets you talk to cats. Not sure how useful that'll be, but we have it."

Oliver blinked. "Wait... what about a crucifix? A crucifix with the power to ward ghosts?"

Sean tilted his head. "I mean, I guess that's an example of an artifact somebody could have."

Oliver put his hands out. "You guys. My grandmother's crucifix. She loved that thing. Luke got yeeted out of his body by my grandmother's magic ghost-warding crucifix."

"Oh yeah," Joy said, pressing her lips together. "That, or any number of the other anti-ghost things you brought."

"Oh, uh, oops." Oliver smiled apologetically at Luke.

Luke waved his comment off. "It's fine, you didn't know. Could that crucifix maybe be useful for fighting the monster, though?"

"Er, seems like it would be a problem that we can't get to it in ghost form," Oliver said. "And then in human form we wouldn't be able to see the monster."

"Good point," Joy said.

Luke took the fan. "So the plan is to seal the ghost in here at the end?"

Joy took the lock of hair. "But first we have to weaken it and make sure we get Charlie out of there safely."

Oliver took the hat. "...With cats?"

Sean shrugged. "I guess? Joan's gun probably would've been more useful." Oliver whispered ghost gun under his breath as Sean turned to Eugene and asked, "Eugene? You didn't happen to bring Joan's cane too, did you?"

Eugene blinked, looking barely awake. "Uh... no, it didn't feel right with her in it."

"Oh, okay," Sean said. Why is she in the ghost gun Oliver whispered under his breath, and no one deigned to answer.

The four of them started heading towards the staircase down to the front door. Eugene started to push himself up to follow them, but Sean gently pushed him back down.

The four of them walked to the front door, and Luke tentatively pushed it open. "Oh, huh. Somehow I thought the ghost we're chasing would be easy to see from here?"

"Drat. How are we supposed to find it now?" Joy grimaced.

Oliver grinned, pulling the hat onto his head. "Cats."

...

Charlie's house was old and creaky, full of dust, like no one had lived in it for a long time. Her father's ancestors had lived in this house for generations, and with each of them that died inside of it, more of the house died as well.

Quite a few pieces of Charlie had died here too. She remembered the day her father had torn up her first paper doll because he'd caught her playing with it instead of studying for a test. She remembered the day her cat had gone missing, and the day a week later when she'd found its body rotting in a shallow grave with a gunshot wound in its side. She didn't remember the first day she saw her father hitting her mother, but she remembered the first day he'd hit her.

She vaguely remembered a time when she'd been young and hopeful. When she had rose-tinted dreams for the future. When she'd been happy. But those parts of herself had died, and their unreachable memory haunted the manor along with all the other ghosts.

There were many rooms in the house, but the older Charlie got, the fewer of them she ever went in, until in her last year she only traveled through the few that lead in a direct path from her bedroom, to the kitchen, to the front door.

Now she was in her bedroom again, wondering why she'd killed her father.

She knew why, of course. She'd... resented him for a while. "Hated him", she would've said, but somehow that didn't quite fit, even though she felt like she ought to hate him, deserved to. If she truly hated him, Would she have felt so guilty for having killed him? But now she felt ashamed. Her hands were covered in blood; it wasn’t wet anymore, but she couldn’t wash it off. It would be with her forever.

However long her route through the house usually was, it was now very short. She was grounded, never to leave the house, never to leave her room.

She was so alone, but it was what she deserved.

“Charlie?” a voice called, and she flinched before realizing it wasn’t her father’s voice. Not her mother’s either.

Charlie looked up toward her bedroom window (no light came through it). Mike was there, peeking in at her. “Could you let me in?” he asked, tapping the glass.

Charlie hesitated, not wanting to involve him, but eventually decided to go ahead and listen to him for once. She stood from her bed, then reached up and unlatched the window.

Mike pushed it open and climbed inside the room with her. He grinned. “It’s really you! It’s great to see you again, finally.”

Charlie felt confused for a minute. Somehow she felt like they hadn’t seen each other for years, but he hadn’t aged. He looked exactly the same as when she’d last seen him. Except…

“What are you doing here?” Mike asked, walking around. “Is this your bedroom? From when we were kids?”

“I’m grounded,” Charlie said.

“I thought your dad was… um… not around anymore?”

“He came back to haunt me,” Charlie said blankly, dropping back down onto her bed. “To make me face what I did. To give me what I deserve.”

“What did you do?” Mike said, sitting down beside her.

Charlie’s head sunk. “You know what I did.”

“No, I don’t. Are you talking about this?”

Charlie looked up, and Mike was pointing at the scar over his eye.

She glared at him, tearing up. “Of course, I should’ve known. Are you here to haunt me too?”

He rolled his eyes. “No, I’m not. I’m not mad. Well, I might’ve been, a little, when it first happened. But it’s been years. I’ve moved on. You should too.”

Mike was older than Charlie was. He’d kept on growing while she stayed the same. He looked like he might be somewhere in his twenties now, and the gash over his eye was long-scarred over, fully healed. But she was still in her worst year of high school, wearing her rumpled uniform with dotted with unwashed blood.

Charlie let her head drop. “You’re an idiot. I can’t move on. I can’t forget it. I can’t ignore it. I can’t keep it secret. I tried to move on and be better, but I can’t stop messing up and hurting people. Eugene’s ghost friends are all gone ‘cause I couldn’t keep my stupid mouth shut, ‘cause I couldn’t stick my nose where it doesn’t belong. And my past has caught up to me too, ‘cause it knows I don’t deserve to have people around me who don’t know what I did.”

“Oh, come on.” Mike folded his arms. “If running away from it is such a bad idea, then say it out loud. What did you do?”

Charlie snapped at him. “I murdered my father!”

Mike flinched, but he didn’t look surprised. “Yeah. That’s it.”

Charlie sagged. “Why’d you make me say it?”

“Why’d you do it?” Mike countered.

Charlie glared at him, then looked back down. “I was angry. And… scared.”

Mike nodded. “Yeah. Okay. That checks out. So do you regret it?”

The room was silent for a minute. “I don’t know,” Charlie responded.

“I think you do,” Mike said, “if it’s been a decade, and you’re still beating yourself up over it.”

“So that’s it then,” Charlie said, resigned. “I deserve this. I am a monster.”

“Ugh, no you don’t. That’s not what I was saying.” He gave her shoulder a little shake. “Look up at me, Charlie-Charlie.”

She did.

“Yeah, he did a bad thing. A really bad thing. But you were, what? Sixteen? Seventeen? Teens mess up sometimes. I sure know I did, though thankfully not so bad anyone’s dead about it. And also I know you were having a rough home life, and it was kind of obvious you had some mental health issues. Yeah, you messed up, but you wouldn’t do it again. I’ve moved on, your dad’s moved on, so should you.”

Charlie looked up at him incredulously. “My dad hasn’t moved on. Don’t you know where we are?”

“No? Oh wait.” Mike blinked as the gears turned in his head. “Oh, was that big lanky ghost thing your dad? I thought it was you, or, some manifestation of your self-hatred, I guess?” He grinned sheepishly. “I’m honestly a little confused. No one really explained to me what’s going on.”

Charlie stared at him. “Are you the real Mike?”

“Yeah…?”

Charlie dropped her head into her hands, muttering a muffled swear. “I can’t believe I said all that stuff to you. I thought I was just having a heart-to-heart with a dream Mike, from my subconscious or something.”

Mike cackled at her, and she wanted to punch him (affectionately). “That’s so dramatic!”

Charlie glared at him. “Well how did you get here?” she snapped, like she was accusing him of something.

“Well okay, so get this.” Mike splayed his hands out like he was ready to drop a bombshell piece of gossip. “Couple days ago I had this dream where a tall asian-looking dude told me to find ‘Eugene’ at Station 00 and he’d help me talk to you. And I thought, yo, that’s so specific, and I could remember it super clearly when I woke up. So I went and did it, ‘cause I thought it would be funny if something cool actually was there, and also it was a good excuse to go exploring. But there was a guy named Eugene there! Crazy!”

“Ah. Okay then.” Charlie didn’t know how to feel about Boss still messing around near them. Eugene might be happy to hear that? Or not?

“No there’s more. I had another dream today! I mean, it wasn’t really a dream ‘cause it kind of just happened while I was walking along, super weird, I kind of thought I was hallucinating. Maybe I was. I sure hope I’m not crazy. But anyway he told me to go over here, so I did.” Mike stared off into the distance for a second, like he was finally realizing how insane he sounded. “Please believe me.”

“Hey no, I believe you. I know the guy. Weirdo.”

“Okay. Cool.” Mike stood up. “So we’re in your dad’s ghost’s nightmare dimension or something? We should probably get out. Forget what I said about him moving on. Because I still think you should move on. And him too. Talk about holding a grudge. So! Let’s go.”

“I’m grounded,” Charlie said dismally.

“Oh, come on! Now you start listening to your dad?” Mike pumped a fist. “The only one grounding you is yourself!”

Mike grabbed Charlie’s arm and pulled her towards the door. “Come on!”

“Ack! My dad’ll catch us! Can't we just climb out the window?"

“The window actually doesn't lead outside, just to another room of the house, for some reason. We’ll be sneaky! We just need to get out of your house and we’re home free! Probably. I still don’t know how ghost things work.”

Charlie winced. "Okay. We'll try. But if he catches us, you run. I don't want to see you hurt."

...

When they found the ghost monster that'd made off with Charlie, it was hunched over against a wall, like it was meditating. Charlie was not in sight.

"It's sleeping?" Oliver asked. "Do we just suck it up into the fan now?"

Sean waved his hands anxiously. "Wait, no, I don't think that's a good idea. It ran off with Charlie, right? It might have her in its dream."

"Dream?" Luke asked.

"Yeah. Ghosts can go into people's dreams. Or memories. Either way, we can't contain that ghost until we've gotten Charlie safely out." Sean chuckled nervously. "Or, until you guys've gotten her out. I don't know how much help I'd be."

Joy cringed. "We really don't know what we're getting into, and I'm thinking we might need all the help we can get. Plus, the three of us don't know what we're doing. Come with us. Please?"

Sean sagged. "Okay, okay. I'll come."

...

Charlie and Mike rounded another corner, and Charlie felt a growing knot in her stomach tighten. "Something's wrong. I don't remember this many hallways existing before," she whispered.

"Oh, okay. Uhh, maybe we should just keep wandering, hope we find the way out?" Mike whispered back.

"I don't like this," Charlie said. "This is his dream. We'll probably take way longer to find an exit than he'll take to find us."

"Well, if he finds us we run." Mike shrugged. "Simple as that."

"And we'll split up," Charlie said, narrowing her eyes. "So he chases me, not you."

"Sure, sure. I'll run... somewhere. Whatever."

"Ugh, you." Charlie scoffed.

They rounded a corner and found themselves in the dining room. Despite it being next to the kitchen, Charlie hardly ever ate there. The paintings she vaguely remembered being hung on the walls were gone, and she wasn't sure how she felt about that.

"I wonder if there's some kind of clue as to where we should go?" Mike muttered.

Charlie walked around the table, looking at the different doorways they could take. The kitchen she knew was not through any of them. She paused for a second to shake some kind of debris from the carpet off of her foot.

Wait.

Charlie looked down and saw that that debris... was paper. Shreds of colored paper, intricately patterned. She recognized them as being the remains of paper dolls, though couldn't identify which ones. She could see on each shred of paper the clean and deliberate edge where she cut with her scissors, as well as the ragged edges where the dolls were torn apart.

"Mike," she whispered. "Come over here."

Mike came over, and Charlie pointed out the paper. "It's a trail. It leads this way."

"Those remind me of the paper dolls I used to see you making in class. Is that a good sign? Should we follow it?"

Charlie frowned. "It might also be a trail of destruction left by my father's ghost."

"It's our only lead, but... what do you think?"

"I want to follow it," Charlie said with a conviction that surprised her. "Wherever it leads, I want to get there. I want to reach an end."

"Well! That was a really ominous way of saying that. But okay," Mike nodded. "Let's follow the trail."

The two of them headed off, following the trail of shredded paper. Charlie kept her gaze pointing down at the trail as they passed through halls that looked almost the same, rooms that each seemed like several rooms Charlie remembered, yet also neither and none, all missing paintings on the walls, or else housing empty frames, which were equally disconcerting. Charlie started to wonder if the trail had really started in the dining room, or if she'd missed something, and that maybe they were following the trail the wrong way.

The trail came to an end just before a door Charlie knew all too well. The only one besides her bedroom door which she and Mike had found closed. The door to her father's study.

"Why'd we stop?" Mike whispered.

Charlie's hand moved forward, driven by something akin to curiosity, to purpose, laced with dread. She gripped the handle and turned the door. It slowly swung open with a creak that grew louder as it opened wider, before the door finally dropped softly off of its hinges.

The body in the middle of the floor looked old, as did the rest of the room. It was nothing but a skeleton, all its flesh having worn off, with no memory of it but the strange stains weighing down the crusty clothes hanging over that figure. A large splotch of the rug below it was stained a dull brown.

"Charlie?" Mike asked. "What are you looking at?"

Charlie blinked, and the illusion was gone. She was still holding the door handle, unopened.

She let go of the handle and stepped back. "I can't do it."

"I'll get it," Mike said. He took the handle and pulled the door open.

The office was empty. And behind Charlie's father's imposing desk, letting in a stream of cold moonlight, was a large window.

"An escape!" Mike cried, rushing towards the window to undo the latch and pull it open. Cold air puffed into the room. "Charlie-Charlie, come on!"

"Coming, coming," she said, taking one last glance over her shoulder.

Then she froze.

The door had swung closed behind her, and on the back of it was hung a portrait of her father.

"Trying to run away again, Charlie?" the picture said.

Charlie whirled around and vaulted out the window, landing in a run through the snowy ground.

Mike broke into a run beside her. "What's wrong?"

"My father! He's there!"

She took a glance over her shoulder and saw him slowly walking towards her, but gaining on her as though she wasn't moving at all. He looked just as he had been when he was alive, yet as horrible as when he was dead.

Mike slid to a stop and started pitching snowballs at him. "Take that! Ha! Leave her alone!"

Charlie whirled around. "Mike, no!"

Charlie's father came up to Mike, and his hand snapped out, gripping Mike's neck. Mike scrabbled uselessly at the man's hand as he picked him up like he weighed nothing.

"Let him go!" Charlie screamed, swinging a punch at her father's face.

But her scissors were in her hand.

She froze in terror, blade held inches from her father's face, as images of what she'd done to Mike flashed through her head.

Her father chuckled, making no move to stop her. "So you still want to kill me, do you? Well I'll never be dead. I'll haunt you forever. You think you hate me? Imagine how much I hate you. You horrible girl, you ruined everything. Kill me again and see if it makes you feel better! You'll never be free."

Charlie let loose a rage-filled scream and brought her scissors stabbing down on the arm holding onto Mike's neck.

Charlie's father let out a surprised gasp, letting Mike drop to the ground. Mike tried to lunge toward Charlie's father, but Charlie grabbed him and shoved him away. "I told you to RUN!"

Charlie's father slammed into her from the side, shoving her to the ground. Her face was pushed against the snow, and she inhaled it when she tried to breathe and started coughing.

She struggled against her father, but it was like trying to wrestle the sand. She couldn't budge him. He shoved her face down into the snow again and she tried to stay calm and hold her breath. She heard Mike yell and try to shove her father off of her, but she heard him get thrown aside with a deep thud into the snow.

"Got you!" Someone yelled, and Charlie felt the weight on her lift, then be abruptly yanked off of her to the side.

She shoved up off of the ground and gulped in oxygen, then searched around for Mike. He was there, just a few feet away, also pushing up from the snow. He looked dazed, but unhurt.

Charlie looked back towards her saviors and saw Eugene's friends, along with Sean. Joy was roughly slamming Charlie's father up and down onto the snow by the ends of what looked like River's hair. After a minute he lay still on the ground, Luke pulled out Boss' fan, snapped it open, and Charlie's father was sucked in.

Charlie sagged, dropping to the snow in exhaustion, as the cold world faded around her to be replaced with real life. That was it. She was so tired...

...

It was a few days later, and Eugene and Luke, Joy, and Oliver were working together to sweep up broken glass from the office at Station 00. Eugene's station boss had called him out to help with it (Eugene was grateful for any number of work hours after sudden week of unpaid vacation), and his three friends had volunteered to come along and help, to make sure he didn't push himself too hard while still recovering from his ghostly injuries.

Luke picked up a large piece of glass and threw it into a bin. "Did Charlie tell you about how the ghost that kidnapped her was her father, who she'd killed as a teen?"

"Yeah," Eugene said. He was taking a breather at the moment, sitting on a beat-up chair. "Though I already knew beforehand."

"That's messed up," Oliver said, shaking his head as he swept.

"Yeah, it is," Eugene said, resting his chin on his knee. "I'm tired of trying to be hard on people for bad things they've done though. She regrets it, she's doing better. That's enough for me. Turns out a lot of people are less perfect than you'd hope they'd be."

Joy rested her chin on her broom to give Eugene a pointed look. "Does that include not being hard on yourself?"

Eugene sighed. "Yes, I'm sorry. I know I was stupid, I shouldn't have been trying to do everything on my own."

"We can help if you need us," Luke said. "We might not work at the station with you, but now that we're in on your secret, we can help out with ghost stuff."

Eugene frowned. "I'm still kind of peeved you guys went behind my back about that."

Joy put her hands up. "I get it! I'm sorry! I won't do it anymore, I've learned my lesson. Yes. It's my fault, that was invasive and not okay and we should've just talked to you." She rolled her eyes.

Eugene had the feeling she didn't completely regret it, but he was going to let it go. "I appreciate this."

"No problem," said Oliver. "I'm an expert at cleanup stuff."

"I mean..." Eugene looked down sheepishly. "Thanks for. Making sure I didn't get myself killed. For being my friends. And... sticking with me even if it's weird and I wasn't great at being open with you."

Luke walked over and threw a hand around Eugene's shoulders. "Dude, it's cool. Generally speaking, you have a right to your secrets, so long as they're not hurting you. But like you said, nobody's perfect. We still love you."

Eugene smiled, giving Luke a hug back. "Thanks."

...

Charlie stared at the headstone. Her full name was written out on it, her birth date, and the date of her death. A small note about her being a daughter and a friend.

She turned to look at Mike, who was hovering beside her in ghost form. "How did you know I didn't know where my gravestone was?"

Mike chuckled. "I didn't, not really. But I wanted to make sure you knew that you weren't forgotten. I visit it sometimes, like on your birthday. Your mom does too, by the way. She's still around, and she remembers you fondly."

"Wow," Charlie said disbelievingly. "Don't know how she manages that."

Mike punched her in the arm. "C'mon Charlie-Charlie, you gotta stop getting down on yourself."

Charlie rolled her eyes. "Easier said than done." She knelt down beside the tombstone. "It's kind of plain... not sure what I really expected. I didn't think too much about what it might be like. I think I kind of assumed there just wasn't one."

"It's been there this whole time," Mike said softly. "Well... at least you know about it now."

Charlie stood up again and looked at Mike. "Uh..." She rubbed her arm awkwardly. She wasn't sure how to end the interaction. "Thanks. I guess. This was cool of you. Sorry everybody was out of office and it was so hard for you to find me."

"It really wasn't that bad," Mike said. "I'm glad I was here to help when, uh... all that stuff went down."

Charlie slapped her forehead. "I'm so embarrassed."

Mike shrugged, looking amused. "Eh. We all have our cringe moments. You make fun of me for tripping on my shoelaces that one time, I can make fun of you for..." Charlie gave him a death glare, "...actually I'll probably just try not to bring this up."

Charlie looked away. "Well. Nice seeing you again. I guess this is goodbye."

"Well, I mean, it doesn't have to be. I only live like thirty minutes away," Mike said, thumb-pointing vaguely behind himself.

Charlie stared at him.

"What?" Mike asked. "You don't want to be friends with me anymore?"

"No! I mean, I do!" Charlie sighed. "I can't believe this is happening. Don't you want to move on from me? I'm dead."

"Er." Mike held up his hands helplessly. "I mean, from what I understand, you'll only be gone-gone for real once you get over all your angst and pass onto the next life, right? So we can totally still be friends until then."

Charlie looked him over. She still didn't completely believe he was real. The past had haunted her for so long, it seemed weird for something good to finally come out of it, for a friend to come back to her from the worst time of her life.

She spoke softly. "You're really not mad at me?"

"I'm really not."

Charlie relaxed. She smiled. Eugene wasn't mad at her after finding out the truth. Mike wasn't mad at her either. Maybe if they believed she could be better... she really could be. "Okay. Yeah." She looked back up at him. "I guess I'll see you around."

Mike grinned. "Count on it."

[shaunashipman]

What do you make of the whole "Vertigo movie poster edit that Tim Minear posted with Oliver Stark as Midge" thing that has buddie-stans believing Tim's hinting at canon Buddie?

srsly, this is what i wake up to? (not directed at you nonny)

i think this is people once again ignoring anything that doesn't fit their view. eddie and shannon/kim are clearly not a one-for-one copy of scottie and madeleine/judy. for starters the relationship between eddie and shannon is completely different what with them being the married ones, so the feelings involved are coming from a different place. and also, you know, i don't think kim is gonna die at the end.

but they think buck is gonna be a direct stand-in for midge regarding his feelings. ignoring that, outside of an alternate ending that the TPTB demanded that wasn't shown and that hitchcock didn't like, midge disappears halfway through and her and scottie don't end up together. i've already talked about how deleted scenes aren't canon, and i think we can agree that a deleted ending that was only filmed to satisfy the hays code and that the directer is on record as not liking and wasn't actually discovered until 1993, is definitely not canon. so that would actually mean that buck is going to disappear halfway through this arc and eddie is going to have to deal with his fear/grief himself, which hey, kind of fits with ryan saying eddie was going to be isolated, doesn't it? funny huh

so, buck is probably going to be in the midge role, as the one who expresses worry about eddie/scottie's behaviour and tries to help him, not in terms of feelings for eddie/scottie. because like i said, this isn't a recreation of virtigo, it's using the elements of vertigo to address similar themes

oliver and tim have talked about not wanting to go the route of "this character is now queer and in love with their best friend" and you want him to be pining for his heterosexual best friend while said friend is stringing along two women in a mental spiral?

as for tim putting buck's name there, idk, it's the only other name that stands out on the poster so he wanted to change it, there is no gavin elster stand-in and people either don't know who edy ganem are or they do know who she is and don't like her, so he used buck as the only other person who's gonna be playing a role in this, which we already knew from interviews

oh, yeah, and tim minear is a little shit goblin.

[quintenrosenburgwrites]

EEE IT WAS GREAT!!! I LOVED READING IT!!! I CANT WAIT TO MEET THE REST OF THE FAZBEAR GANG AND LEARN MORE ABOUT OLI!! IM SO INTRIGUED!

Questions and thoughts I had while reading!:

Do all humans have magic? Or is it just Oliver? Or I know Vanessa changed the badge back but was that a mechanism in the badge itself?

How long was Oliver following crypteds for before he joined fazbear?

NOOOO POOR CHICA 😭. GOOD ON OLIVER FOR AT LEASE GIVING HER A LITTLE BREAK.

Oof. Oli’s speed running getting fired the way they talk back. Maybe subtlety is what’s needed here?

Oooo hopefully Henery called Vanny back in to fire those scientists >:( at least Chica wasn’t re restrained? progress???

:O URPLE GUY!!!!!!!!!!!!!

BIGGER GASP. HELPY!!!!!

Oooo Potential menacing wall of helpys. There is no end, submit to the help /silly

FRICK UEAH VANNEY GOT SUSPENDED

An apology? From Henery?? Doubt >:|

Hehehe Oliver’s getting so much walking done today. Five bucks says they get lost again

Booo urple guy ruined my bet. He’s the janitor? Does. …does he work the Night Shift?

HAHAHAHAHA MICKEY D’S IS A GREAT NICKNAME. PFFTT MIKE WAZOWSKI

BWAHAHAHA OLIVERS NICKNAMING SKILLS ARW MY FAVORITE. HANKLES XDDDD

Huh hankles actually feels bad? Guess it’s a good thing Oli joined! otherwise he wouldn’t have known!

Oli. Oliver no don’t Talk to your boss like that /concern. Hehehe the person they hit with paper turns out to be William /silly

EGGS BENEDICT

Yay Chica gets food!!!

:DDD I'm glad you liked it! I'll try and answer all of your questions! (Also responding to the reactions bc those are incredibly fun to read LOL)

It's not just Oliver, but it's not all humans either! It'll be expanded on a bit further in the next chapter

They were following cryptids around from 16 to 19, up until they found out about Fazbear Containment. They didn't really have anything better to do, and even if it was only 3 years they learnt a lot!

Yeahhh it's gonna take a while for all of them to be treated right. Oliver's probably gonna end up being like. the moral council or something LMAO

They um. Impulse control is not their specialty SDJFSDKLJFKL if they think something and it gets past the singular filter they have (which is EXCLUSIVELY for moral stuff) they're saying it and dealing with the consequences later

The only thing I will say about this is Vanny is definitely gonna be playing a bigger role later but not the one you might expect, same thing with Henry :)

urple :DDD also I PROMISE he isn't william i wanted to make a storyline that follows a different villain bc. also do not remember the reasoning for this but I do wanna clarify William Afton will not be showing up (at least in person) unless i change my mind later! Normally I don't like spoiling that kinda stuff but I don't wanna accidentally make anything misleading :D

Helpy is so underrated I needed to include him in this

If an AI uprising ever happens, you'll know who it REALLY is /j

>:DDDDDDD

(Using this space to apologize in advance if Henry is ooc, I dont remember shit about him aside from like the basics of what he did, so im kinda just making it up as I go LMAO)

They cancelled their gym membership cause they're already getting all the exercise they need while trying to navigate their new job /j

:) yet another situation where he will play a big role but probably not the one you'd expect!

coming up with those was the most fun part of writing this LMAO

I was having such a hard time with Henry's nicknames. like. i almost had Oliver call him Henjamin franklin.

Hankles becoming increasingly horrified at the conditions the cryptids are living in:

Oliver would've definitely already been fired if they hadn't been put in this job as a way for the government to try and contain them (half joking here. uh. also will be expanded upon later) and the person hit with the paper will always be William in my heart /silly

My thought process: "Hmmmm... What do I name this random scientist? He needs a name, obviously. Even though he will probably never be mentioned again. What name can i use that will be a funny reference.......... oh my god im a genius" /hj

Oliver teaching themself how to cook so they can bring her a five course meal as an apology for all the shit she's had to deal with the past several weeks:

[doc-hudson]

Holiday truce

Alternative title: “In which two idiots actually have a talk instead of trying to kill eachother on sight” 

Date: 16 - 18 of December, 2022

TW: Brief mention of death

Doc Hudson

Another week, another little local event to attend to.

This time, it seemed, it was all about lightning the Christmas tree up and the little raffle in which people decided who would be the lucky person to do so -and while Paul, himself, couldn’t care less about the thing...well, there was always the possibility that someone he knew would be selected, and that meant they might need someone to hype the crowd for them (because, really, where was the fun in doing something without some dramatics?).

However, this being a town thing also meant that chances were that the eyesore would also be there, and that meant they’d probably butt heads once again, unless…

“Hey, hotshot” he called, cup of hot chocolate in hand, once he’d spotted one of the reason behind his headaches “a second of your time?”

Something had to give, right? Maybe this could be the beginning of a holiday truce.

Maybe.

-

Lightning McQueen

Lightning was starting to recognize that voice. Not in a good way. He crossed his arms and turned to face him reluctantly. "What do you want now, old man?"

-

Doc Hudson

They were barely seven words in and the idea of the holiday truce was quiiickly fading away.

(They were doing a great job so far!)

“Just checkin’ on that bruised ego of yours. How you doin’?”

-

Lightning McQueen

“Uhhh, my ego is doing great, thank you very much,” he said, rolling his eyes. “How’s your nose? Still in other people’s business, I guess?”

-

Doc Hudson

...no, Hud, don’t kill the kid. Remember: olive branches and holiday truces.

“Nice to see everythin’ s back to normal” Paul nodded before taking a sip of his cup “Your ego ‘s still big, my nose ‘s still broken”

Hey, he wasn’t about to waste that opportunity to joke about it -besides, that was a signal for the kid to not even bother try to use that against him.

No, olive branches. Olive branches. You’ve got this, Hud.

“So, you really the ‘07 time champ?”

-

Lightning McQueen

Lightning narrowed his eyes suspiciously. So this guy did know about Magick Grand Prix. “…Yes,” he said. “Just be honest. Did Chick Hicks send you?”

-

Doc Hudson

“...literally who?”

Funny to think that was the most honest answer he’d given anyone so far, huh?

-

Lightning McQueen

"Chick Hicks? Or was it Jackson Storm, that wouldn't surprise me. His team will stop at nothing..." Lightning continued, waiting for the man to show some sign of recognition.

-

Doc Hudson

The kid stared, as if waiting for an answer that simply wouldn’t come.

“Never heard of ‘em” Paul said, eyebrows raised but oddly amused by the whole situation.

-

Lightning McQueen

"You know that I'm the 07 time champ, but you've never heard of Chick Hicks or Jackson Storm," Lightning said, once again deeply confused by this man. "Can you just be straightforward with me for once and tell me what the hell's going on, buddy?"

-

Doc Hudson

“Wikipedia is helluva tool” he shrugged, taking yet another sip of his drink “but doesn't tell every single detail, nor does it list all your enemies, slick. Can't blame a man for not knowin' ‘em all”

Apparently the kid had many enemies. Go figure.

“ ‘m just curious, that’s all. And maybe wanted to strike a conversation that wouldn’t end up with us fightin’ -what a concept, hm?"

-

Lightning McQueen

"Okay, well, you're gonna have to do a little more explaining, because right now it sounds like you're following me or something. I mean, I don't even know your name!" Lightning pointed out. "All you ever do is show up, give me unsolicited advice, and reveal you know way too much about me. It's a little weird!”

-

Doc Hudson

Olive branches...olive branches…

“I didn’t know yours, either.  Only got to actually know it thanks to the other day’s event”  he shot back “as far as I know you’re the one that appears outta nowhere, causes trouble and thinks I’m some sort of creeper when, as you can see, I don’t know shit ‘bout whatever your deal is”

No, chst. Olive branches.

“How ‘bout we try again?” Doc offered “you introduce yourself, I introduce myself”

-

Lightning McQueen

"Ohhh, you already know my name. Since you read my Wikipedia page, apparently," Lightning smirked. "But sure. I'm Lightning McQueen. And you are?"

-

Doc Hudson

Dear god, this kid…

“Paul Hudson or “Doc”, ‘s easier” so far, so good, they weren’t at each other throats yet “See? Bein’ cooperative ‘sn’t that difficult. Nice to meet you”

Said the one that generally started shit.

-

Lightning McQueen

That name sounded familiar, for some reason... Lightning couldn't put his finger on why. Maybe he'd do a little of his own Wikipedia stalking, thank you very much.

"You're gonna call it being cooperative when it's taken you multiple months to tell me that," Lightning said, rolling his eyes. "Whatever. Good to meet you too, Doc. You a real doctor or something?"

-

Doc Hudson

Thank god for his common name.

“I might have introduced myself earlier on if you didn’t-”

OLIVE. BRANCHES.

“-nevermind” he grumbled, trying to let that one go “Aye, General Practice and SEM Physician. You ever ran the 24 hours of Le Magiques or you more into other kinda circuits, champ?”

-

Lightning McQueen

"Oh, once or twice, but I'm not as much a distance guy. Especially since that course is the way it is— the terrain's terrible," Lightning said, just as easily jumping into the conversation about Magick Grand Prix. "Nah, I'm onto bigger and better things. Au revoir to those janky French courses."

-

Doc Hudson

Paul blinked.

And- holy fuck, he shouldn’t laugh; He was real fucking aware that laughing at the other’s words might be interpreted as anything but his legit amusement at the idea of anyone calling Circuit de la Sarthe a janky anything.

He didn’t want to laugh.

He did, eventually, but he knew damn well he shouldn’t,

“Those bigger and better things bein’…?”

-

Lightning McQueen

Look, Lightning complained about the rookies all the time, but even worse than the rookies were the olds. The washed-up old retired racers who thought that dinosaur courses like the Circuit were so great when there were neater, bigger, better-maintained, perfectly-manicured courses in places like LA and Milan and Miami.

"Uhhh, Huntington Raceway? Ever heard of it?" Lightning chuckled. "It's totally state-of-the-art. Y'know, I think some courses just need to be retired."

-

Doc Hudson

“Only if you’re talkin’ ‘bout Huntington Beach’s Speedway, if that’s not the one then can’t say I have” but, then again, Talbert Stadium was even older than he was and, well, that didn’t sound quite like the state-of-the-art thing the other seemed to be fond of “dunno about that, hotshot, some old courses still have some charm to ‘em”

Not that he’d been anywhere near one for decades, but…

“You into that kinda stuff? The high-tech everythin’, I mean”

-

Lightning McQueen

“Oh, no way. All that crazy tech those rookies are training with nowadays? We don’t need all that. I’m just saying, some courses need to be totally rehauled at this point. They’re dinosaurs!” Lightning pointed out. “I mean, they served their purpose in their time, but what’s the point in keeping them around?”

-

Doc Hudson

Olive branches.

“No offense, champ, but you ever stop and actually hear what you’re sayin’?” Paul asked, eyebrows raised “You’re talkin’ shit ‘bout rookies and old timers alike ‘nstead of...well, sayin’ what you actually like”

As if you really believed your way is the only valid one.

“Let’s try that again, hm? What’s your favourite kinda track? Hell, who's your favourite competitor?”

A beat.

“‘Myself, duh’ ‘s not a valid answer, by the by”

-

Lightning McQueen

Fair enough, Lightning thought. He was being pretty negative. But he felt negative. He could feel those rookies slowly pushing him out of the sport, like he was old news. All he could do was cling to the idea that the era he peaked in was the best one, and everything else was wrong.

“That’s not what I was gonna say,” Lightning said, rolling his eyes and setting his hands on his hips. “I dunno, I had a pretty good trainer. I don’t model myself on anyone else, though. I’m the one and only, baby.”

-

Doc Hudson

Well, at least the kid seemed to get the message, that was good enough.

‘I had a pretty good trainer’ he said. And, at that, Paul smiled.

He had to bite his tongue and think his reply for a good while, as to avoid making mentioning his own trainer and how, actually, he was the world’s best, thank you very much.

“You have an ego not unlike any o’ Philoctetes’ kids, but I’m pretty sure that’s not the one. Man’s retired or somethin’ ” he joked “I'll bite, who trained you?”

-

Lightning McQueen

Lightning missed the reference, but blew right past it. This was just the weird old man being a weird old man, he was pretty sure. He was surprised that he purported to have heard of Lightning's trainer, though.

"Uhhh, Hud Carr? If you've never heard of Chick Hicks or Jackson Storm, I really don't believe that you would've heard of him," Lightning scoffed. There was a key difference, of course: Hud Carr was old-school. Hicks and Storm were new-ish... well, relatively speaking

-

Doc Hudson

Hud Carr.

Holy. Shit.

HOLY. FUCKING. SHIT.

Doc almost choked on his drink at the mention -sure, the kid could be bullshiting, trying to sound more interesting than he actually was- but one simply didn’t joke about that. Not when it came to that big of a name.

“Christ alive, kid, who did you have to kill to bag that?!”

-

Lightning McQueen

Lightning felt, suddenly, a little defensive. A lot of people didn’t know of Hud. Which was, selfishly, how Lightning liked it. Hud was still a tender subject for Lightning. He was reluctant to talk about him.

“I dunno, connections,” Lightning said casually, though he was avoiding looking Doc in the eye. “He was good. Really good.”

-

Doc Hudson

He was-?

-oh. ...OH.

Well, shit. That had gone south pretty darn quickly, what was he supposed to say now?

“One of the best” Paul nodded, trying to power through the whiplash of the whole thing “… ‘s nice to hear he had someone to pass his old tricks to, Time Champ”

[ragingbookdragon]

The super soldier rounded the pool table and grabbed Kyle by the collar, tugging him up from the green felt as he ignored the cry of ‘Hey!’ from the Lantern. “I need your help with something.”

Kyle smirked as he took the cue with both hands and ribbed, “Wow, Bruce 2.0 needs help? How’d those words taste coming outta your mouth?”

“Alright, look here, glowstick—” then his expression pinched, and he muttered, “Like vinegar, honestly.”

“Figured,” he snickered. “What do you want?”

He nodded at the young man standing beside Oliver and Hal, a content look on his face as he listened to the two. “I’ve been layin’ it on thicker than maple syrup with your boy, Connor over there, and I mean the flirtiest, most dirty innuendoes I’ve got and yet…he hasn’t even cracked a smile.” He frowned. “Fuck, I mean he hasn’t even blushed. I always get a reaction by the second one even on people like Diana or Guy.”

“Ignoring the fact that you’ve flirted and probably slept with both Wonder Woman and Guy Gardner,” Kyle started, cocking a brow. “It’s probably the fact that Connor isn’t sexually attracted to people, let alone you, in the slightest, even if you’ve got the best dick in town.”

He blinked, looking at Connor, then he let out a “Huh…” Clicking his tongue, he noted with an tone Kyle couldn’t decipher, “I’m embarrassed that it took me this long to get that.” Inhaling, he seemed to swell with a newfound attraction and declared, “Alright, change of plans. No tying to get into Connor’s pants. Instead, I’ll just go for the stomach.”

“What, why?”

“Fastest way to a man’s heart is through his stomach and if I can’t have sex with him, I might as well invest in a romantic relationship of hand holding and cuddling. I’d be the perfect boyfriend for him.”

“But you…” Kyle started.

“But you…?” he encouraged and Kyle cleared his throat.

“Your libido isn’t exactly the smallest, bud.”

He smirked. “I can take care of my own business single-handedly. I’ve been doing it since I was a teenager. Besides, I’m great at non-sexual acts of physical affection as well as others, and can perfectly maintain a loving relationship without sexual contact,” was all he said before striding off with purpose.

“Wait, but—aaaaaaaand he’s gone,” he sighed.

Kyle watched as the eldest Wayne walked back over to the trio and put his arm around Connor’s shoulders and asked, "Hey, it’s a bit noisy in here. Bur there’s a really good vegan pho place down the street if you wanna get out of the crowd and go eat in quiet. You’re probably getting a headache being here anyway." And with a look of impression, Kyle watched as Connor nodded, seemingly interested this time and followed the soldier to the door. The soldier held the door and smiled at Connor as he thanked him and walked out, then he turned to Kyle, shot the Lantern a smirk and winked before leaving the bar.

“Well, I’ll be damned,” he huffed in a quiet laugh before glancing at the man coming towards him. “Hey Jason.”

“I see my brother finally got the Queen’s son to go out with him.” he glanced at Kyle. “You know Connor better than I do. They gonna end up sleeping together?”

Kyle snorted and shook his head. “Nah. Connor’s not into sex.”

“Really?”

“Yeah. I think other than touching his own dick, the idea of engaging in any sexual contact with a man or a woman wigs him out.”

“He ace or aro…or both?”

Kyle shrugged. “He’s never explicitly stated it, but it’s kinda blaringly obvious. I mean, he and I took a trip to Amsterdam one day and managed to walk down the RLD and all he said when he saw the women in the windows was, ‘What exactly is supposed to be the appeal in this? They’re getting the glass dirty.’” Kyle looked at him. “No, your brother won’t end up sleeping with Connor. Don’t get me wrong, if there was one man who could sexually attract him, it’d be your brother. But while he’s got good game, he’s not gonna make Connor do anything he doesn’t want to do. Hell, I’m pretty sure your brother’s just about to score the cutest ace boyfriend on the block. Mark my words, they're in for a night of hand-holding and shitty jokes before they agree to date.”

“You think Connor’s cute?” Jason asked and Kyle shot him a look of offense.

“Of course he is. Have you seen his face when he smiles? He has dimples. He’s fucking adorable.” He nodded at the pool cue on the table. “C’mon, play a round with me.”

“Alright,” Jason started. “But loser has to cook dinner tonight.”

“You don’t let me into the kitchen. Ever.”

“Right…fine, loser has to suck my di—”

“OH MY GOD! SHUT UP!”

“Yeah, you’d do it even if you won anyways.”

“I AM GOING TO BREAK UP WITH YOU!”

[waitimcomingtoo]

hi bestie! xmas request for u <333 could you do one where the avengers clearly know that peter and the reader like eachother, so they (very undiscreetly) place mistletoes literally everywhere in the hq to get the lil babies of the groups to kiss? thank uuuuuuu love u!

Under The Mistletoe

pairing: Peter Parker x reader

Masterlist

“Good morning everyone.” You greeted the Avengers as you walked in the kitchen one morning.

“Good morning.” Peters eyes followed you as you sat down next to him at the table. “I made you hot chocolate.”

“You did? You’re so sweet.” You took the mug from him and kissed his forehead. “Thank you.”

“Well you mentioned last night that you were always freezing in the morning so I thought this would warm you up.” Peter smiled sweetly at you, face flushed from the kiss.

“You’re too good to me. I was gonna put some whip cream on it. Do you want some?” You offered as you went to the refrigerator.

“Sure. Thank you.” Peter nodded as you put some whip cream on his hot chocolate. The rest of the Avengers watched the interaction, exchanging knowing glances every once in a while.

“So, what did you guys do last night?” Natasha asked curiously as she leaned on her hand.

“We went on patrol together and then walked around the city. It was snowing so it was really pretty.” You smiled as you remembered the night before. Natasha and Bruce made eye contact, giving each other a knowing look.

“Didn’t you get cold?” Bruce asked for his own amusement.

“My suit has a built in heater.” Peter told him.

“But Y/n’s suit doesn’t.” Tony added, understanding what was going on.

“Peter had his arm around me so the heat kept us both warm.” You told them as you sipped your mug, making everyone gush.

“Uh huh.” Tony nodded as he watched Peter put his arm around your chair. “So you went for a moonlit stroll through the city. Pretty romantic, don’t you think? Was it a date?”

“What?” Peter sputtered. “No.”

“We’re just friends.” You nodded a few too many times.

“You got some whip cream on your face.” Peter noticed the white dollop on your nose.

“Oh. Oops.” You laughed in embarrassment and went to wipe it off.

“I got it.” Peter wiped your face with his thumb, leaving both of you in a blushing mess.

“Thanks.” You giggled, gazing lovingly into his eyes.

“Right. Just friends.” Rhodey grimaced as he watched the disgusting love fest in front of him.

“So what are you doing today?” Natasha asked, finding the whole situation hysterical.

“We were gonna watch some holiday movies in my room before patrol.” Peter told her.

“Speaking of that, do you want to get started?” You asked him. “We have a lot to get through.”

“Sure. Bye guys.” Peter waved before resting his hand on the small of your back and leading you out of the room. Once you left, the Avengers let out the collective laugh they had been holding in.

“So…they’re in love, right? We can agree on that?” Tony asked as he looked around the room, seeing everyone nod at him.

“I have never seen anyone so whipped.” Rhodey laughed as he sipped his coffee.

“How have they not admitted their feelings?” Nat asked the room. “It’s so obvious.”

“This is worse than me and Nat.” Steve commented.

“Or me and Nat.” Bruce added.

“Or me and Nat.” Tony agreed.

“When are those crazy kids gonna get together?” Steve chuckled as he opened the newspaper.

“This gives me an idea.” Tony narrowed his eyes as he got a familiar devilish glint in his eyes.

“Oh no.” Steve recognized the glint. “This can’t be good.”

“By the end of the holiday season, I want Y/n and Peter to be together.” Tony said decidedly. “This will require a group effort in making it happen. In the weeks leading up to the holidays, I expect each and every one of you to get our dear Peter and Y/n to realize they like each other.”

“How do you expect us to do that?” Nat humored him.

“You will all plant mistletoe somewhere in the building.” Tony grinned wickedly. “The mistletoe that gets the most kisses out of them wins.”

“Wins what?” Bruce asked, just as intrigued as the rest of the team.

“Whatever you want. I don’t know if the giant building with my name on it gave it away, but I have money.” Tony stated. “Lots of it. Or how about this, the winner can pick and design a new room to be added to the tower.”

“I could use a physical therapy room.” Rhodey spoke up. “I don’t know if you guys remember, but my legs don’t work on their own anymore ever since I fell out of the sky.”

“Oh, yeah. I forgot about that.” Steve realized.

“Yeah. Nobody really talks about that.” Bruce agreed.

“I think we could all benefit from a new training room.” Nat threw in. “The old one has a permanent sweaty man smell.”

“We already have a training room. What we really need is some personal up keeping. Keeping myself this blonde is not cheap. A hair parlor in the building would be nice.” Steve suggested.

“Parlor.” Tony chuckled under his breath.

“I second that.” Bucky piped up.

“Of course you do, Jared Leto.” Tony teased.

“We don’t need a hair salon. What we need is another lab.” Bruce declared.

“Or a ballet studio.” Nat gasped.

“I think we should install an Olive Garden.” Bucky shrugged.

“How about a room full of murals of myself?” Thor smiled. “You can all gaze upon them and push yourself to stop being tiny and small.”

“Or another gym.” Rhodey shrugged.

“Or a wine cellar. But for beer! A beer cellar.” Thor cheered.

“We can discuss the room later.” Tony quieted everyone down. “If you really want these things, get the kids together. You know what you have to do.”

Tony

You and Peter often ate breakfast together in the same spot everyday, and Tony used that information to his advantage. He skillfully hung some mistletoe above your usual seats and patiently waited for your arrival. Soon enough, Tony heard your footsteps coming into the kitchen.

“Hey Petey.” You rubbed Peter’s back before taking a seat next to him. “Hi Mr. Stark.”

“Hey guys.” Tony smiled before looking up and gasping. “Oh golly gee, would ya look at that? Mistletoe! Who put that there?”

“Oh, wow.” Peter said as he looked up to see mistletoe hanging above the two of you. “I didn’t even notice.”

“Yeah. I probably wouldn’t have looked up if you hadn’t pointed it out.” You said skeptically as you eyed Tony.

“Ha.” Tony forced a laugh. “Well, now you see it. Bye!”

He quickly left the room and hid behind a wall where he could watch his plan unfold.

“That wasn’t at all weird.” You chuckled as you turned in your seat.

“He probably put Red Bull in his protein shake again.” Peter laughed as well, fingers brushing yours a little on the table.

“Yeah.” You nodded, suddenly feeling awkward now that you were both aware of the mistletoe hanging above your heads. You both looked away from each other, red in the face and sneaking occasional glances at the plant.

“I, um, I’ve never actually seen mistletoe in person before.” Peter said to break the silence. “I’ve only heard about it in songs.”

“Me too.” You nodded rapidly. “Or in movies and stuff.”

“Yeah.” Peter gulped. “And stuff.”

You looked at each other for a moment, shy smiles on your faces.

“I mean, since it’s both of our first times getting caught under it, it’d be a shame not to honor the tradition.” You suggested sheepishly as you averted your eyes.

“Right.” Peter said quickly. “It’s tradition. We basically have to.”

“Yeah. It’s practically a right of passage for the holiday season.” You said simply as you leaned closer to Peter.

“Exactly.” Peter agreed, leaning in as well. Your faces were almost touching now, just a few more inches until contact.

“Um.” You let out a nervous laugh before shutting your eyes and leaning in. Peter met you the rest of the way, your lips connecting directly under the mistletoe. You smiled a little into the kiss before pressing your hand to his cheek to keep him in place. Peter pulled away after a minute, gazing fondly in your eyes as he opened them. He’d been waiting to kiss you for the longest time, and it was just as perfect as he imagined.

“Thanks.” Peter said, squeezing his eyes shut in embarrassment after he said it.

“You’re welcome.” You laughed at him, squeezing his shoulder in admiration.

“I’m glad we could, erm, fulfill the tradition.” Peter laughed at his own awkwardness as he shook his head.

“Me too.” You nodded with a flushed face. “I feel more in the holiday spirit already.”

“Same, same.” Peter trailed off, looking around the room to distract from the awkwardness.

“Can we just pretend that didn’t happen and eat our breakfast?” You requested, looking at him shyly.

“Please.” Peter agreed. “It never happened.”

Rhodey

Bruce was making his way to the lab when he saw Rhodey hiding behind a wall, staring at hanging mistletoe.

“Why are you standing here?” Bruce whispered as he stood behind Rhodey.

“I told Y/n to meet me in the kitchen and I’m sending her a bunch of texts so she keeps her eyes on her phone. I also told Peter to meet me in the theater. They’ll have to go through that doorway where I strategically placed mistletoe. Once they bump into each other, they’ll have to kiss and I’ll get a point.” Rhodey explained his masterplan in a hushed tone.

“Why do you want them to bump into each other? Can’t they just see each other in the doorway?” Bruce whispered back.

“Man, have you ever seen a romantic comedy?” Rhodey sighed. “The girl has to bump into the boy so he knows she’s clumsy and not like other girls.”

“I think you’re getting a little too invested in this. It’s just a room.” Bruce reminded him, beginning to think he was behind on the contest.

“Its not about the room.” Rhodey insisted. “I just want to beat Rogers and his stupid parlor.”

“Shh.” Bruce hushed him. “Here they come.”

Bruce and Rhodey watched as you and Peter smacked into each other in the doorway.

“Oh, sorry. I wasn’t looking.” Peter said as he caught you from falling.

“That’s okay. I wasn’t looking either.” You smiled at him, staying in his arms.

“How are you gonna get them to notice the mistletoe?” Bruce whispered.

Rhodey silently took out a large fan and switched it on, sending a breeze towards you and Peter. The breeze made the bells on the mistletoe chime, causing you and Peter to look up.

“Is that mistletoe?” He asked as he pointed to it.

“It looks like it.” You commented. “I guess Mr. Stark decorated the tower.”

“Kinda crazy we got caught under it twice.” Peter chuckled nervously, hoping he’d get the chance to kiss you again.

“I know. But hey, it’s tradition.” You shrugged, also hoping you’d get to kiss him.

“Yeah. Tradition.” Peter was barely listening to himself speak as he stared at your lips. You laughed a little as your arms went around his neck, pulling him into a soft kiss. It was just as good as the first time, if not better. You pulled away after a moment and sighed against his mouth.

“I, um, I gotta meet Rhodey in the nitchken.” You stumbled over your words.

“Yeah, I’m supposed to see him in the popcorn palace.” Peter spoke, not even knowing what he was saying.

“I’ll see you later, Petey.” You squeezed his arm gently and made your way to the kitchen.

“Bye.” Peter mumbled before going to the theater. Rhodey turned to Bruce with a boastful grin and held a finger to symbolize the point he has just gotten. Bruce swallowed nervously, realizing he had to get on it if he wanted to win.

Bruce

“Banner.” Tony came to Bruce’s side with a suspicious look. “You look awfully devious today.”

“You’re much more likely to walk next to someone than to be caught under a doorway with them. That’s why I put a bouquet of roses and mistletoe on the table between their rooms. Every time they pass it, they’ll have to kiss.” Bruce explained as he turned to Tony with bloodshot eyes. He had been working on the plan all night and it showed.

“You unsuspecting genius.” Tony gasped.

“How is that unsuspected?” Bruce deadpanned. “I’m a certified genius. That’s why I was recruited.

“Yeah? And I’m a certified freak. 7 days a week.” Tony said as he stared at the bouquet of mistletoe. It didn’t take long for you and Peter to come out of your rooms and meet in front of the bouquet.

“Hey, Petey.” You greeted him. “What are you up to?”

“I was gonna grab a snack and then watch Dance Moms compilations.” Peter told you.

“Without me?” You pretended to be offended.

“I was gonna ask you to join.” Peter rolled his eyes sarcastically.

“I’d love to.” You smiled at him. “Let’s go.”

“Wait, is this mistletoe?” Peter realized the bouquet right as you were about to leave.

“Damn, it’s everywhere, huh?” You laughed as you touched the roses, warmed by the color.

“Do we still have to kiss of its not over our heads?” Peter wondered.

“Yes!” Bruce whispered sharply.

“You heard that too right?” Your eyes widened as you looked around for where the voice came from.

“Yeah. I thought it was my conscience.” Peter sighed in relief. Your eyes flickered from the bouquet to Peter, back to the bouquet.

“I mean, we might as well kiss.” You shrugged. “Mistletoe is still mistletoe.”

“You’re right. It would be a waste not to.” Peter nodded eagerly.

“That’s exactly what I was thinking.” You smiled as you pulled him into a kiss. This kiss lasted longer than usual as you both let it linger.

“The plan was smart but you only got one kiss out of it.” Tony whispered to Bruce as you and Peter went to the kitchen.

“Just wait.” Bruce told him. Some enough, you and Peter returned with an armful of snacks.

“Oh, we passed it again.” Peter said robotically, knowing you’d pass it again.

“Oops.” You said sarcastically. “I guess we have to kiss again.”

“Ugh. Every time.” Peter rolled his eyes as he pulled you towards his lips. You gripped his shirt collar and continued kissing him as you pulled him into your room.

“See?” Bruce smirked. “Certified genius.”

Down the hall, Natasha had seen the whole thing, chewing her lips as she came up with a plan.

Natasha

Natasha set her plan in motion a few days later, waiting in the kitchen for you as she stirred a bowl of muffin mix. Peter sat at the counter, reading over one of Bruce’s articles in a book. You came into the kitchen wearing an ugly Christmas sweater that matched Peters, the sight of you making Peter smile.

“Hi Nat.” You beamed at her as you took a seat next to Peter at the kitchen counter. “Whatcha making?”

“I’m making muffins with the berries from mistletoe.” Nat said cheerfully. “They should be really good.”

“You bake?” You asked curiously. “You mean they taught you culinary skills when training you to be an assassin?”

“There’s a lot you don’t know about me. For example, I love ballet. We might even be getting a ballet studio in the tower soon.” She said coyly, making you and Peter exchange a suspicious glance.

“Wow. That’ll be really cool.” Peter played along, skeptically of her intentions.

“Right? Does this look okay to you guys?” Nat asked as she held the mistletoe above your head. “I can’t tell it it’s good to use or not.”

“It looks fine to me.” Peter shrugged as he looked up at it.

“Oh, silly me.” Nat clicked her tongue. “You guys are totally under it. I guess you’ll have to kiss.”

You and Peter exchanged another look before pecking each other on the lips.

“Hmm. I still can’t tell. Can you check again?” Nat asked as she held it up again.

“It still looks fine.” You told her, growing suspicious.

“And you still have to kiss.” She sighed like it was an inconvenience. You narrowed your eyes at her before kissing Peter on the cheek.

“Are you guys sure it’s okay? One more time, please.” Nat held it over your heads a final time. Peter looked at you skeptically before leaning in for a kiss. Both of you were well aware of the sneaky smile on Natashas face.

“Wait, let me see if I can find another one.” Natasha took another bunch of mistletoe out of her grocery bag and pretended to inspect it. She made a whole show of it, making it look like she simply couldn’t find out if it was okay to use. She sighed sadly and looked to you guys for help before holding it up. You and Peter laughed in disbelief before kissing on the lips.

“Wow. Did I accidentally make you guys kiss 4 times?” Nat spoke loudly, as id she was letting all the people in the tower know. “That’s a lot. Looks like we’ll be getting that ballet studio after all.”

“Yeah. That is a lot.” Thor appeared in the doorway upon hearing Natashas declaration. He eyed you and Peter with a ponderous look on his face, becoming aware that he was losing the competition.

“Oops. I just remembered that mistletoe is poisonous.” Nat finished her bit. “Guess I won’t be making these! Bye guys!”

She swiftly left the room, leaving the mistletoe on the counter. You and Peter looked at each other, equally confused about what was happening. Thor walked further into the kitchen and pretended to take interest in the mistletoe. He held it up over his head before holding it over you and Peter.

“Are you two sure this mistletoe is good for use?” He asked, stealing Nat’s idea.

“We’re not kissing for you.” Peter told him flatly.

“I never liked you anyway.” Thor stated as he dropped the mistletoe and left the kitchen. He wandered the tower until he found Pepper reading in the living room.

“Pans. I have some bad news.” Thor sighed as he laid on the couch like he was in a therapists office. “The competition your husband started is rigged.”

“Why do you say that?” Pepper wondered.

“Because I’m losing!” Thor whined. “Gods do not lose to humans. Unless it’s a contest for tiny people.”

“How many kisses have you gotten?” Pepper asked, well aware of the contest.

“0 so far.” He sighed. “Everyone else has four or five. Banner has seven!”

“So you just have to come up with a plan that blows everyone else out of the water.” Pepper shrugged.

“Like what?”

“Everyone else has gotten them to kiss, right?” Pepper asked.

“Yes.” Thor nodded.

“You can get them to date.” Pepper said like it was simple.

“Why, that’s brilliant! Thank you, Pans!” Thor cheered as he got off the couch. “You have done me well.”

“You’re welcome.” Pepper chuckled as she flipped the page.

“Wait, your husband is also in this competition.” Thor realized. “Why are you helping me?”

“Because when Tony wins something, he gets way too cocky and thinks he’s above doing any laundry or cleaning.” Pepper explained. “Someone else has to win or he’ll buy Mexico or something.”

“Thank you, lady Pans.” Thor grinned. “I will not disappoint.”

Thor

“May I come in? I’m just kidding. I am coming in regardless of your answer.” Thor chuckled as he barged into your room. You and Peter had been sitting on the bed, jumping from fear as he came in.

“Hi, Thor.” You said skeptically as Thor pulled up a chair. “Can we help you with something?”

“For the past few weeks, the Avengers have been holding a stupid contest that I am losing to see who can get you two to kiss the most.” Thor explained. “They have been using mistletoe to carry out this stupid contest.”

“Wait, what?” You and Peter looked at each other in shock. Suddenly, the strange behavior and random mistletoe sightings all made sense.

“That’s why there’s mistletoe everywhere?” You asked. “And why did you guys do this in the first place? Why us?”

“Because you two like each other.” Thor shrugged. “And everyone knows it. Except for you two. You don’t know it.”

“What?” Peter sputtered. “We do not-“

“Shh.” Thor hushed him. “Don’t talk to me. Talk to each other. You’re welcome.”

Thor smiled kindly before getting out of his chair and leaving the room, shutting the door behind him.

“I can’t believe they did this.” Peter groaned. “Forcing us to kiss because they think we like each other? Who comes up with that?”

“I know right?” You agreed. “How we feel about each other is none of their business.”

“Exactly. And what do they know? If I liked you, I think I would know.” Peter forced a laugh, well aware that he liked you.

“Yeah. We would know.” You nodded before looking at him skeptically. “We would know, right?”

“I don’t know.” Peter answered honestly. “It’s kinda hard to tell how I feel about you. I never know if something that happens between us is platonic or romantic.”

“Me either.” You spoke softly as you put your hand on his. “Kissing isn’t really platonic, though.”

“I guess not.” Peter chuckled as he looked at you. You stared at him for a moment, heart beating in your ears as you thought out your next step.

“Peter, do you like me?” You asked slowly, looking at him through your eyelashes.

“Um, kinda, yeah.”

“Kinda?” You laughed softly at his answer.

“I’m sorry.” He sighed and squeezed your hand. “I don’t know what to say in this situation.”

“Just tell me how you feel.” You shrugged.

“I feel like I’ve been lingering around places where the mistletoe in hopes that you’ll walk by and kiss me.” Peter confessed, looking at you with a shy smile.

“Well that’s not platonic.” You teased him, leaning into him a little.

“No, it’s not.” Peter agreed. Your eyes flicked to his lips briefly before leaning in to kiss him, pulling his face closer to yours with the hand that wasn’t holding his. He kissed you back once he got over the surprise, sitting up straighter to get closer to you.

“You don’t need mistletoe to kiss me, Petey.” You whispered once you pulled away. “You can do it whenever you want.”

“I’m gonna take you up on that.” Peter smiled softly at you.

“I hope you do.” You flirted before connecting your lips to his again. On the other side of the door, Thor had his ear pressed up against the crack, listening to every word with a huge grin.

“I am so going to win this contest.”

Tag List 🏷

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[supercasey]

I've already heard a few people suggesting that if Callum Brodie is still alive after MAG 200 that he should be adopted by Georgie & Melanie and/or Basira, but consider this; Oliver Banks, no longer forced to know who lives and dies every night, more or less fades into obscurity. After all, all within his domain are dead, and in a world without the fears, he can move on and live something close to a normal life. In the midst of everything going back to the way it was, of the fears escaping from his universe, Oliver happens across a scared, desperate preteen on his way home.

Almost immediately, the boy's fear is replaced by anger. “You,” He says, voice lowering to a growl. “I saw you, when it all started. You took my mum.”

“Sorry,” It's all Oliver can think to say in the moment. "If it helps, I didn't really want to hurt her. I had to."

The boy considers him for a moment, looking him up and down. “ …Same here,” He mutters, his shame audible. “Couldn’t escape the Dark, so... I guess it put me in charge, at least for a little bit.”

Oliver doesn't know why that doesn't shock him- maybe because a few years back, he remembers Maxwell Rayner, so close to his fated end, following a boy who looked just like this one in his dreamscape, or maybe he just knows what it's like to be used- but either way, he doesn’t scold the kid over it.

“That's… that's okay. It's a new world; you don't have to do anything you don't want to anymore,” Oliver glances around then, only now realizing that it’s just him and this kid out here. “You gonna go find your dad, now that this is over? I’m sure he’s worried sick about you by now.”

The boy goes tense, and all at once Oliver knows he fucked up.

“Hey, it's alright, you don't…” He trails off, not sure what to say. Deep down, Oliver knows what might become of this boy, should word get out that he was an avatar, and despite not knowing whether or not he's well suited to the job, Oliver knows he can't leave him to face the world alone. “I've still got an apartment, out on the outskirts of London. I know you don’t know me, and you probably don’t trust me either, all things considered, but… I don't want to see you get blamed for something you couldn't control.”

The boy stares at him, his expression somewhere between confused and still a little angry; rightfully so, considering what Oliver must’ve done to his mother. “Why should I go with you? Who says you won't just kill me? Not like anyone would blame you for it.”

“For one thing, the fears are gone now, so I don't really have a reason to hurt anyone anymore. Secondly,” Oliver looks the kid in the eyes, and for a moment, he remembers the early days of having his powers, of only being able to watch as those he cared for and loved perished slowly before his eyes. “I guess I just know what it's like, to lose sight of yourself and just do what you're told. I can't promise you a perfect or even good life with me, but I sure as hell won't let anyone hurt you.”

Again, the boy considers Oliver, and briefly, there are tears in his eyes. “…Okay.”

“Okay?” Oliver repeats, convinced that he misheard him.

The boy scoffs. “Yeah, sure, I'll go with you, I guess. Not like I want to get murdered by all those kids’ parents anytime soon.”

Oliver feels himself smile for the first time in… damn, he can't remember. “Alright then,” He offers the kid his hand, half expecting him not to take it. “I'm Oliver, by the way. Oliver Banks.”

To Oliver's relief, the boy accepts the gesture, his grip tighter than he expected. “I'm… I'm Callum. Brodie.”

Oliver smiles still, beginning to lead Callum towards where he's pretty sure London is. “Callum, huh? Well, it's very nice to meet you, Callum. Come on, let's get outta here, yeah?”

[heauxplesslydevoted]

Coming Down (Ethan x MC)

Summary: They break up. Dassit

A/N: I’ve been tired of this imposter Ethan, and the back of forth nature of his romance route for the entirety of book 3, so I wrote this.

Warnings: None

Title Inspo

~v~

Naomi’s fingernails tap impatiently against her leg as the shrill ring of her cell phone rings at her ear. It rings 5 long times before she’s sent to voicemail.

“Hello, you’ve reached Dr. Ethan Ramsey. I’m sorry for not answering your phone call, but leave a message, and I’ll get back to you as soon as I can. Thank you.”

“Ethan, it’s me...again. I haven’t heard from you in,” lifting her wrist, Naomi checks the time on her watch, “wow, in over 24 hours. I’ve been calling and calling, to no avail, and you just aren’t responding.”

The news of Ethan getting hit with a malpractice lawsuit hit her like a freight train. As soon as things started to feel good again, as soon as the diagnostics team started to find its rhythm with two new physicians, this torpedoes any chance of normalcy she could ever experience.

“If you could give me a call back and let me hear the sound of your voice, that’d be great. Bye.”

There’s a lot more that she wants to say, but she’s been given a limited window of time so Naomi hangs up.

Switching tactics, Naomi opens up her messages, and scrolls to her thread with Ethan.

Naomi: Hi

Naomi: Are you okay? I haven’t heard from you in a while.

Naomi: Can you at least reply, telling me to leave you alone?

Naomi: At this point, I’d settle for at least knowing if you’re alive.

She waits a few minutes, and when she gets no response, she shoves her phone into the pocket of her white coat. Anxiousness and worry pools in the pit of her stomach, and the only thing she can think about is Ethan’s well being. And this situation doesn’t bode well because Naomi is still in the middle of her shift.

Her thoughts are interrupted by the sound of quiet chatter as the door to the diagnostics team’s office opens and in walks Tobias and Harper. Their conversation is cut short once they notice the youngest member of the team.

“Hi, Naomi,” Tobias greets, an easygoing smile adorning his face. “What’s up?”

She wishes she could feel as casual as he looks, because every part of her body is twisted inside out and turned upside down.

“Have either of you talked to Ethan today?” Naomi asks, skipping the pleasantries.

“I spoke to him yesterday just to gauge how he was handling the malpractice suit,” Tobias answers. “Obviously, the conversation didn’t last long because he and I rarely interact outside of these four walls, but he seems…” he trails off when he notices Naomi’s face fall. “What’s wrong? Is everything alright?”

Any other time, Naomi would be ecstatic to hear about Tobias extending an olive branch, and Ethan actually accepting the support, but today isn’t that day. She’s been trying to get in touch with him all day with no success, but he answers a phone call from his sworn enemy?

“I haven’t heard from Ethan today, so I’m at least glad to know he’s breathing,” Naomi says, her voice tight.

Too caught up in her own pity party, Naomi misses the way Tobias and Harper exchange worried glances. The team has been through enough the past few months, the last thing they need is romantic friction between Ethan and Naomi seeping into the office.

“Maybe he’s turned his phone off since then?” Tobias suggests. “Times like this can force you into an introspective mood, and he’s probably going technology free.”

Naomi chuckles humorlessly. She appreciates Tobias’s effort to satiate her foul mood, but she can’t think of a single excuse short of death that could justify Ethan’s behavior.

She stands, dusting off her coat and straightening it out. “Thanks. I’m going to get some lab work done on our patient, page me if you need anything.”

“Will do.”

Without another word, Naomi exits the office.

Working helps slightly. For an hour or so, Naomi is successful in turning off her brain and focusing diligently on work. She manages to not think about Ethan at all.

Until she hears his name brought up in conversation. She’s strolling towards the nurse's station when she sees Sarah and another nurse, Ronnie huddled in a corner.

“Sounds like Dr. Ramsey’s not as perfect as everyone thinks, huh?”

“Screwing up a standard tracheotomy that way? Frankly, I’m just surprised it took the patient this long to sue!”

Naomi slows her steps before she stops walking all together. The nurses are so engrossed in their conversation, they don’t even notice her.

“I heard from Marlene that the patient wouldn’t have even needed a trach if they hadn’t dosed her wrong in the first place,” Sarah adds in an excited whisper.

“Seriously? That’s next level…”

Her first instinct is to stop this, to tell them to stop talking, the urge to protect Ethan still as strong as it’s always been.

But she stops herself from doing that. Because why should she? Why should she put forth the effort to defend the honor and reputation of a man that doesn’t even have the decency to answer her phone calls?

And just like that, she’s plunged back into her flurry of conflicting emotions: worry, fear, annoyance, and most of all, anger. The emotions war inside her, all fighting for dominance, and she hasn’t felt like this since her intern year when he left to go to South America without any sort of goodbye or correspondence.

That wasn’t a good period in her life. Naomi can still feel the cold grip of anxiety that plagued her chest when she came into work one day and he was nowhere to be seen. She heard through a LVN that he left before confirming it with Naveen. She can still taste the saltiness of the tears she shed after leaving her 5th unanswered voicemail. Experiencing such a high of beating her ethics trial and getting picked for the diagnostic team,  and the low of him leaving in that short amount of time left her spiraling and isolated, and it took entirely too much time clawing herself out of that dark place.

Turning on her heel, Naomi speed walks in the other direction, her original plan long forgotten. The hospital passes her by in a blur as her legs move, the rest of her body and brain moving on autopilot.

She doesn’t stop moving until she’s in front of the residents’ lounge. She spots Aurora, Bryce, and Sienna sitting at a table.

“Naomi, come join us!” Sienna exclaims. “We’re going to make cappuccinos with this fancy machine.”

“I’ll have to take a raincheck on that,” Naomi says. She turns to Bryce. “Can I borrow your car keys please?”

“Everything okay?”

“Yeah, I just have a couple errands to run and I don’t feel like taking the train. I’ll bring it back with a full tank of gas and everything.”

“I’m not gonna nitpick you about gas, Omi.” Bryce’s warm gaze sweeps across Naomi’s face, studying her. If he notices anything wrong with her, which he probably does because Bryce is a lot more perceptive than he gives himself credit for, he thankfully doesn’t mention it. He reaches into the pocket of his mint green scrub pants and pulls out his keys. He tosses the keys to Naomi with a wink, and she catches them mid air.

“I keep a shovel in the trunk in case you need to bury a body.”

Whether he realizes what is going on with her, or if he just cracked a joke to lighten the mood, Naomi is grateful either way.

~v~

Naomi spends an hour driving around Boston, people watching and attempting to collect her thoughts before she ends up in Back Bay at Ethan’s apartment complex. She didn’t want to go to his house in her previous state, guns blazing and emotions all over her place.

Even on the ride on the elevator up to his unit, her stomach is in knots and her heart beats faster than normal. She hasn’t been this nervous about seeing Ethan in a long time, and it dawns on her just how fucked this entire situation is. Why should she be nervous to talk to the man who claims to want to be with her?

Steeling her nerves, Naomi issues three sharp knocks to Ethan’s front door. Approximately 45 seconds pass before the door opens.

“Naomi!” Ethan’s eyes widen when he sees her standing there. “What are you doing here?”

“Are you going to let me in, or should we have this conversation in the hallway?” Naomi asks. Ethan steps aside, widening the door so Naomi can enter. “Thank you.”

The apartment is stale, like Ethan hasn’t opened the windows in a few days. He looks disheveled, the bags under his eyes are extremely pronounced like he hasn’t gotten a wink of sleep.

For lack of a better word, Ethan is a mess. And she wants nothing more than to just...wrap her arms around him and make everything better. But she doesn’t. She keeps her distance.

Ethan shuts the door before turning back to her. “Can I get you something to drink?”

“No.”

“Well let’s sit down.”

“No, I think I’d rather stand because I don’t plan on being here long.”

The coldness stuns Ethan. Naomi almost seems indifferent towards him, something he’s never experienced before. It doesn’t go unnoticed that she didn’t bother greeting him warmly, no hug or kiss, no excitement in her voice, nothing.

“I needed to see with my own two eyes that you were alive and well,” Naomi starts. “Because you’ve gone radio silent on me. I know you’ve seen me calling and texting. Your phone works just fine because you picked up a call from Tobias of all people.”

He averts his gaze, ashamed of himself. “I’m sorry, I–”

She holds up a hand, stopping him mid-sentence. Naomi doesn’t believe for one second that he’s apologizing due to actual remorse. “I have spent the entire day wracked with intense worry. I feel like I’ve been turned upside down, and I could barely focus on work. Every time I thought I could be productive, something or someone was there to remind me of you. And then I’d spend more time ruminating over you and your situation, and the fact that you’re ignoring me, and then I’d feel like absolute shit. And earlier today, as I listened to the nurses gossip about you, I realized that this feels so much like your two month sabbatical to the Amazon, and our relationship hasn’t changed at all since then.”

“That’s not true,” Ethan argues.

“It is,” Naomi insists. “One step forward doesn’t mean anything if we end up taking two steps back immediately afterwards. A year and a half later, you’re still holding me at arms length, keeping yourself closed off, ignoring my calls.”

“I don’t mean to do this, to be this way.”

“But you continue to do it, so at this point you have to see it’s a pattern. You won’t even open up and talk to me about this lawsuit that’s being waged against you.”

“I just don’t want you getting needlessly involved.”

“While it’s a noble excuse, it’s complete and utter bullshit. If you think you’re doing something to save my reputation, remember nothing you do will ever top me almost losing my medical license my intern year, and then having a resident face a malpractice lawsuit a few months later. So come on, give me another excuse.”

“I’m doing this for you!”

“How? How could this possibly be for me?”

“Everything I touch becomes tainted!” Ethan snaps. “Because there is something wrong, in which everyone arounds me leaves or dies, or everything falls apart. I don’t have control or autonomy over anything, so yes, the one precious thing in my life, I’m too scared to touch.”

“But I have been right here with you! I was right here in this exact same spot when we worked on Naveen’s case. I sat by your side while we watched over Dolores’s son. I was there when they wheeled your mother into the hospital, and when you took her to rehab. Time and time again, I’ve proven to you that my loyalty is steadfast, and not once have I ever wavered, so you don’t get to stand here and punish me for some unrealized fear. You don’t get to treat me like I’m a passenger in this relationship, if you can even call it that.”

That’s what gives him pause. “Of course this is a relationship.”

“This isn’t a relationship, I am just a woman you sleep with. Occasionally you open up to me, we share a cute moment and promises, and then you clam up and up goes the barriers, and it starts all over again. And every single time, we’re a little bit deeper into this thing we’re in. I’ve shared more, I’ve let myself be more vulnerable with you, emotionally and physically, I’ve deluded myself into thinking ‘This time it’s the real thing,’. And I’m afraid that this is going to be our reality. One day I wake up, 3 years in, tentatively living with you, trying to settle into the pieces of a life I’ve scrounged up with you, and you do this again.”

“I don’t speak on it, and I don’t like to because I try to keep it all together, but you don’t understand the toll it takes on me every time we do this back and forth. I was a train wreck when you quit. I had the trial looming over my head, Landry, a guy I considered one of my closest friends betrayed me in the worst possible way, you weren’t the only person scared of losing Naveen, and I couldn’t even verbalize any of it to you because you slammed a door in my face when I tried to bring it up, and then you left me. And then you did it again, and I spent two months worried that you might not even come home because you could contract the deadly disease you were off fighting. And then you go on national television declaring your relationship status, and you made promises to me on my deathbed that led nowhere, and then finally we make some headway in Hawaii and establish what we have going on, and then I come home to this. So while you say one thing to me, time and time again, your actions say otherwise. It’s clear I’m not a priority.” 

This conversation triggers Ethan’s fight or flight response. He doesn’t know where this conversation is headed, but he’s smart enough to know it’s nowhere good.

“Naomi, what are you saying? Spell it out to me like I’m a preschooler.”

“I think we need a break,” Naomi says in one breath, afraid she’ll break if she prolongs this any further. The six words leave a sour taste in her mouth that she has to choke back.

“No,” Ethan’s tone is gruff, and the seriousness almost startled Naomi. “No, we’re not breaking up.”

“From where I’m standing, we already have,” Naomi retorts. “I’m just confirming it.”

Ethan takes one long stride towards Naomi, but she takes a step back. “Look, I am a daft asshole to put it mildly, and I know I have a lot of work to do, but this is by no means a reason for us to break up.” He takes another step forward, and now Naomi is backed up against the door. He tugs her forward, wrapping his arms around her. “I am sorry. I know the words probably sound hollow, but trust me when I say I mean it. I’ll fix this, I’ll do whatever it takes. You’re the only person I want, the only one I’ll ever want, and I’m not losing you. Not now, not ever.”

Through this right embrace, Naomi can feel just how rapidly his heart is beating. He’s scared.

A tear slips from the corner of her eye, and she’s too drained to even wipe it away. “This is reactionary. You’re saying all of this because you’re panicked, but if you meant any of what you just said, it wouldn’t take the threat of a breakup in order to want to change things.”

“It shouldn’t have taken me this long to realize what a fool I’ve been,” Ethan says. He refuses to let go of her, his arms still wrapped so tightly around her petite frame, he almost worries about crushing her.

“I agree.” What does that even mean? She gives him nothing more than that, and Ethan is left to stew in his own doubt and worry. Naomi breaks free of his embrace and presses a palm to his chest, signaling him to give her some space. “But I still think we need some space.”

“You don’t mean that.”

“Trust me, I do.”

It becomes hard to breathe. When Ethan woke up this morning, the last thing he expected was Naomi to dump him. “What can I do? Tell me how to fix this. Do you want consistency? Done, I’ll talk to you every single day, multiple times a day. Transparency? Sit down right now, and I’ll explain this entire lawsuit top to bottom. You want proof that I’m never going to up and leave again, you can take my fucking passport. Naomi, I don’t care what I have to do, I will do it, but I will not accept you walking out of that door.”

Naomi inhales deeply, trying to stop a full son from bursting out of her chest. He’s saying all the right things, but at the wrong time. It’s too late now. “I’ve warred with myself all day about this decision. You’re clearly not in the right space to sustain a healthy relationship, and that’s fine. I just need to remove myself from the situation, for my own health and well-being. And I think you need to do the same.”

“So...what? This is it? It’s over?”

“Let’s be honest Ethan, you never gave us the opportunity to begin.” She wants to touch him so badly, reach out a run her hand through his hair or stroke his beard one more time. It takes everything in her to not. “You’re a great doctor, one of the best ones I know, so I really hope you beat this entire lawsuit and I get to see you back at Edenbrook. Take care of yourself, Ethan.

Ethan shakes his head in denial. He refuses to let things end like this, and for her to give him the same cool professionalism she extends to every other coworker.

“Naomi, wait–”

She’s out of his apartment before he can convince her to stay. It doesn’t register until he hears the soft click of her door shutting that she’s actually gone. And another minute passes before the gravity of the situation finally dawns on him.

For the first time in a long time, he’s truly alone.

~v~

Tags: @mvalentine @choicesaddict5 @professorkingslay @maurine07 @aka-calliope @bluebellot @whimsicallywayward15 @blossomanarchy @takemyopenheart @jamespotterthefirst @fanmantrashcan @whatchique @ao719 @x-kyne-x @colourmeshy @paulfwesley @the-pale-goddess @writinghereandthere @ramseyandrys @perriewinklenerdie @aworldoffandoms @thatcatlady0716 @drakewalker04 @canknot @hatescapsicum @lapisreviewsstuff @senseofduties @badchoicesposts @ethandaddyramseyx @chasingrobbie @zodiacsign1 @choices-lurker @my-heart-beats-for-ya @adrian-motherfucking-raines @riverrune @edith-eggs1 @thatysn @bellcat2010 @blainehellyes @cecilecontrera @junehiratas @choices-love-affair @openheart12 @caseyvalentineramsey @desmaranj @nazario-sayeed @aestheticartsx @ruinedbypixels @nooruleman @rookie-ramsey @uneravine @choicest @schnitzelbutterfingers @missmiimiie @stateofgracious @mooons-isabelle @doilooklikeiknow

[orange-waterfalls]

G-Bots (TM)

Googleplier (x4) x viewer!reader

ty anon for the request!

A/N: Funny story! I am no longer physically capable of writing normally! I tried so hard to be normal and just veered off into SCP/Cryptid viewer territory because I like expanding on the idea that the viewer is Not Human! Anyways, you’re hanging out with the Googles. That is it. Nothing is wrong. You do not recognize the bodies in the water haha anyways I think I like went a little creepypasta-esque at the end there but it’s fine I think probably. It’s fine. Might be a little weird in terms of story, but i think this was more focused on world building to me. Probably seen as more platonic than romantic, but see it however you wish. Enjoy!

Word count: 2.5k

G-Bots (TM)

You wheezed just a bit as you sped through wherever-the-fuck you were. Sure, maybe that was a bad idea. Sure, Dark was a little bit threatening and SURE, you were supposed to be back by now, and the fact that you weren’t back with Mark trying to convince him NOT to split up was the tiniest bit problematic. You weren’t even sure this was a building? Were you in the void? Goddammit, not again…

You stopped, concluding that this was bullshit and you did not want to do it right now. You bent over, hands on your knees and took deep breaths. You stared into the emptiness for a bit, then looked around for a moment, just trying to figure things out. You needed to reassess. It was basically one big, long hallway with random twists and terms every few meters. You’d always end up back at the paintings of… them… and knew you’d gone too far. You did that over, and over, and over again. At this point you thought Dark had just forgotten about you. You took a deep breath in and let it out. You stood up straight and looked up at the paintings. You heard their voices echo through your head a bit. You squeezed your eyes shut and your head twitched.

“You’re alright… you’re ok… cool it…” You whispered to yourself. Deep breath in, deep breath out. Meditate. Think.

You looked on either side of the hall and, for the first time, you noticed doors extending down into the void and not stopping. You let out a breath. You felt a slight sense of dread. Something was telling you not to enter the rooms. Some little voice in the back of your head that sounded suspiciously like Mark. But, hey, what else were you gonna do?

“Ok… do i want to enter the door on the left or the door on the right?” You asked yourself. You paused to think about it. After a few seconds you felt yourself jerk forward a bit. Your brain felt staticy and you felt compelled to the left. You turned the knob and opened the door slightly. Immediately you heard music that might be in an SCP game, and a voice that sounded suspiciously like “do you recognize the bodies in the water?”. You were hoping no, and you bailed before you had a chance to look. You ended up almost exactly in your previous position in the hall. Your brain felt fuzzy again, and this time you gravitated to the right. You opened the door just a little, maybe to see what was inside, but again you heard the SCP ambiance.

But this time it was from behind you. So, like any smart person, you swung the door open, slammed it behind you and did your best to lock it. But there was no lock. So you stood. Waiting. Nothing happened.

Of course nothing happened. Why would anything happen? Dark wouldn’t want you to get hurt… probably. This was his domain. Probably. If you were alive, it’s because he wanted you to be. If you were in this room, it’s because he wanted you to be.

Speaking of: Where the hell were you?

You turned around to look behind you. In the blank white room there was a single grey couch with all 4 Google androids sitting on it. Apparently they were recharging, because they hadn’t noticed you standing there and also they were plugged into an outlet in the wall. You hadn’t considered that they had to physically plug into something to charge up, but the thought made you snort.

Bad idea.

All of their eyes snapped open at once, revealing the glow of their assigned colors. They all stood up and began walking towards you in unison. You felt a slight sense of dread. Even so, you tried to grab the doorknob, the one that apparently was no longer there, and cursed under your breath when you could only feel the smooth wall behind you. The androids stopped, staring at you. You cleared your throat.

“Hey…” you laughed nervously, “So, uh, funny story, actually-”

“You are not supposed to be here,” The original Googleplier, Blue, stated.

“Well, see, that’s where this whole thing started, um, see, Mark wanted to split up-”

“No human is allowed inside of this room, and not you, either.”

“Well-” You stopped, processing what he said, “Wait. ‘Either’? I’m human.”

“No, you’re not,” Google Green said. You wanted to be offended, but you were more confused.

“What do you mean? I’m human!” You argued.

“What color’s your hair?” Red asked with a mean smirk on his face. You opened your mouth to respond, and an amalgamate of voices saying “BROWNBLACKBLONDEWHITERED” came out. You slapped a hand over your mouth.

“... what the hell was that?” Your muffled voice whispered. Well, you thought it was probably yours.

“What’s your eye color?” BROWNGREENBLUEAMBERYELLOW exited your being before you could even try to answer.

“Do you have any pets?” That one just ended with a computer error sound from you.

“... huh.” You dropped your shoulders a little. The revelation probably should’ve upset you more.

“What are you doing here?”

“I… do not recognize the bodies in the water.” You explained.

“Ah, I see. Darkiplier would want you to not die, therefore you may stay.”

“Ha. Wow. Who knew the Googleplier androids-”

“G-Bots.”

“... what?”

“We are legally not allowed to use the name ‘Google’ anymore. We are now G-Bots.”

“... legally.”

“We were discontinued. And sold. And signed a contract.”

“So does that mean I can’t call you Google anymore?”

“No, that is simply my name. The name of us as androids, however, is now G-Bots.”

“Ok. What about them?” You pointed to the other three.

“Yellow is Oliver, Green is Lee, Red is Elliott.”

“And you’re just Google?”

“They’ve been trying to change my name to Gregor. I deeply dislike it.”

“It’s a good name.” Oliver suggested, smiling.

“Means vigilant.” Lee shrugged.

“Don’t be a pussy, Greg.” Elliott adopted a shit-eating grin as he leaned a little closer to Google.

“You can do… whatever you wish. Just do not be like them, DA.” Google instructed through gritted teeth.

The room began to shift color and expand. The couch was still grey in the center, but there were now four sections of each of the colors. The yellow section was filled with flowers, with a laptop on a desk next to a switch and a little Vector robot sitting by on the windowsill that showed a colorful meadow with bees buzzing to and fro. It glitched for a moment, so you knew the window wasn’t real. The green section had large houseplants and looked a bit like a greenhouse, and had an Xbox hooked up to a TV in the corner and seemed to have a view of a lake in the faux-window. The red section had miscellaneous wires and computer parts and lights here and there, looking like a fire hazard, and a PC on a table, while the window showed what appeared to be space. Google’s section was absolutely spotless, not a single thing anywhere, apart from a tiny skateboard next to a PS4 in the corner, and the window showed computer code.

“Wow.” You said. You might be stuck here for a while, so you might as well enjoy it.

Though you wondered who DA was. -- You hate to say it, but you had a favorite G Bot. It was kind of like having a favorite child, in your mind. You felt like they somehow knew that you had a favorite, but you didn’t know why.

Oliver was the sweetest by far, immediately going to make you as comfortable or entertained as possible while you were with him. He asked you if you wanted to watch something, if you wanted to play a game, if you were hungry, etc. It was kind of like going over to a friend’s house for the first time. He was enthusiastic to the point where he was shaking with anxiety over wanting to make you happy. You thought he didn’t get many visitors and maybe that was why. He showed you his flowers, and the bees, and a small painting in the corner, hoping for  validation. His glowing eyes seemed to dull when you moved on to the next section, but said you’d visit him again. That did help, but he turned away sadly and went to water his flowers.

Lee seemed as though he couldn’t care less if you were there. He told you where everything was and that you could do whatever. If you asked for help, he would stop what he was doing and help you. Once you understood, he immediately resumed his previous task. He was a bit cold, like Google, but in a “I am very busy but I am still here if you need me” sort of way. He played a game or two with you, having a preference for the puzzle games more than anything else. Puzzle horror, more specifically. If there was a shooting part, he immediately shoved the controller into your hands, saying he didn’t want to do that part. When you left, he simply continued with his work without a goodbye.

Elliott tried so hard to ignore you for the longest time. You could hear him scoff and growl anytime you made any sort of noise. You were self conscious at first, but you came to understand that he was just an asshole. You started on a game, playing for a few minutes, and felt the red couch sink next to you because he had sat down next to you. If he thought you sucked (which he did) he would snatch the controller from you and finish whatever you were doing before giving it back. He refused to say anything or help you, either. He’d just make rude noises and walk away occasionally before coming back. When you left, he seemed a lot angrier than he had before, and wouldn’t say goodbye to you. He turned away with a huff and started pressing random buttons on the controller.

Google was by far the least interested in anything you had to do. You sat on the couch next to him, and he didn’t move an inch. You sat there for a bit, waiting, but he did not move. You stood up, walked around, messed with a few things, attempted to play a game or two. Google didn’t move. You pulled up the Gamer ChairTM and sat directly in front of Google, arms crossed. You sighed. Finally, he looked up at you.

“Is there something you need?” He asked in that monotone voice of his.

“I’m bored,” you said.

“Go to one of the others,” He closed his eyes.

“What are you doing?” You asked, curious.

“That is not-” He sounded exasperated.

“Hey Google, what are you doing?” You interrupted like the little shit you were

“Currently, this G Bot system is recharging its battery. This G Bot is at: 69%.” He shifted to a purely robotic voice.

“Haha nice.”

“This G Bot’s primary objective is to answer questions as quickly as possible. Would you like to ask a question?”

“Yes. What do you like to do, Google?”

“I enjoy answering your questions. Do you have any more?”

“What company owns you?”

“G-Bots were recently sold by the Google company to Warfstache Incorporated.”

“Wilford has a company?”

“Warfstache Incorporated is co-owned by Wilford ‘Motherloving’ Warfstache and Damien-Dami-Da-Darkiplier.” He glitched while answering.

“Who’s Damie-”

“The Corporation owns shows such as ‘Markiplier TV’, ‘Warfstache Tonight!’, and ‘Hire My Ass’. Do you have any more questions?”

“Do you pass the Turing Test?”

“Wondering if you have to treat me with basic decency?” He shifted back to his less robotic, but still monotone, voice.

“No. Just wondering.”

Neither of you spoke again for a while. He did scold you when you tried to move the couch with him still on it, so… progress. -- You were beginning to suspect that Google didn’t like you very much.

The blue one. Google. The other ones liked you. Oliver ranted to you for a whole half hour about different kinds of bugs and the hierarchy of bees. The queen is assassinated when she is bad for the hive, it would seem. Lee made you play Resident Evil with him because he didn’t like the fighting, but he liked figuring out what to do. You frantically passed controllers back and forth a lot. Elliott basically did speedruns of several games, you watching intently the whole time. He seemed to like the attention and actually smiled at you whenever he finished one.

But Google didn’t like you. He ignored you, and told you not to touch anything, and scowled whenever you asked him personal questions. Not like “what’s your sexuality” type of personal questions. More like… “what’s your favorite color and why is it blue” sort of questions. He didn’t like them either way.

But the others liked you, and that was pretty neat.

You still wanted Google to like you though.

“Hey Google,” he perked up with the little “do-do!” noise, “Can you guys go into your different sections?”

“All G-Bots have the ability to pass into other’s color-coordinated sections,” He answered politely.

“Why don’t you?”

“We don’t want to.”

“Do you get along?”

“Yes.”

“Then why don’t you?”

“Celine dislikes when colors are mismatched.”

“Who’s-”

“I’m sorry, this G Bot needs to charge.”

“But you haven’t been-”

“This G Bot needs to charge.”

“Come on, if you--”

“This G Bot needs to charge.”

You quieted and plopped into the chair. You stared at Google. His eyes flickered for a moment before they closed. -- The other Bots knew who Celine and Damien were, they just weren’t telling you. Their eyes always flickered when you asked, but they wouldn’t tell you.

You threatened not to play with Lee anymore. He said he could play on his own. You could see that he didn’t want to. You played Alien: Isolation. His eyes seemed duller.

You threatened not to watch Elliott’s speedruns. He said he didn’t care. You could tell that he did. You watched him play Hollow Knight. His eyes seemed duller.

You threatened not to listen to Oliver’s rants. He looked terrified, but he said that was fine. You could tell it wasn’t. You begged him to tell you. He looked sad.

“Who’s Damien?” You asked softly, stepping towards him.

“I can’t tell you,” He shifted back.

“Who’s Celine?” You stepped forward.

“I can’t tell you.”

“Who’s DA?”

All of the G-Bots stopped what they were doing. You heard static and felt like you were being watched. -- You looked up at the color on the outside of the museum.

You were doing something. You were doing something.

Were you robbing this place? It felt like you were. What happened to Mark? What happened… to you?

You stared at the doors, feeling a slight sense of dread. Something in the back of your head was telling you this wasn’t right. To go home. To…

--

“Ignorance is Bliss. Try Again?”

[multi-lefaiye]

OC Name Meanings Tag!

Thank you for tagging me @albatris!

Rules: Search and post the meaning of your OCs’ names (if you made their name up or they go by a nickname, post an explanation of how it came to you)! Bonus if you can find something for their last name too

Okay, this is gonna be fun because name meanings is actually kind of an Interest of mine. Like I don’t always keep meanings in mind when naming characters but I like to sometimes because it makes brain go brrr. My favorite is when a name is chosen kinda incidentally and it ends up really vibing in terms of etymology.

In case y'all can't tell I am an avid fan of behindthename, which is going to be the main source I use for this unless I can't find something there or if I want to look into things more for fun and flavor.

Anyway enough stalling <3 I'm going to do the cast of A Modern Ghost Story, mainly because the cast of The Ruins of Memory all just has nature names and I'm thinking a lot about my funky little ghost hunters <3 Under the cut in case this gets long.

Sydney "Syd" Ambrose - Sydney is a variant of the name Sidney, which comes from a surname that is derived from a place name that means "wide island." After looking into it a bit more, it can also mean "wide meadow" or even "from this place" apparently! Neat! And apparently the name Ambrose ties back to a word that means "immortal," which. Considering the themes and characters in this story. That's very interesting actually.

Yara Key - Yara has a couple of possibilities, based on the specific origins, but the ones that are most interesting to me are "friend, helper" (the Arabic meaning according to behindthename, which is probably the one her parents had in mind) and "lady of the lake" (the Tupi meaning, according to a Wikipedia search). Huh! As for their surname, it has a few potential meanings, but the one I find the most fitting is that it can trace back to Gaius, which means "to rejoice." That vibes.

Roach - So originally a part of me wanted to do Roach's full legal name, but I'm not sure yet if that's a spoiler and also I don't really want to share it b/c their name is Roach and that's what matters. Anyway I named them Roach for fun, but they chose the name Roach specifically for the connotations of being "unkillable" and like. Survival. There's a reason for that. We'll get there.

Oliver Cox - There's a couple of potential meanings for Oliver, but the one that I like the most is "ancestor's descendant." Just think that's neat. I don't know if it has any application b/c Oliver isn't super developed yet but it's fun to think about. Cox, meanwhile, is a patronymic form of a name that means "rooster." I think he'd like that.

Juno London - Juno is named after the queen of the heavens from Roman mythology, and his name possibly means "young." This is a little interesting b/c they're one of the oldest characters in the cast, but they were made an immortal at a very relatively young age. Their surname is taken from the place, but it apparently can mean "from the great river," so I might have to take that and run with it a little.

Asher King - Asher's name means "happy, blessed" in Hebrew!! I think this is interesting because they're one of the more serious characters in the cast, and she isn't really much for smiles. However.... that may change.... we will see...... As for her surname, there isn't much complicated there. Its name just means king. "Blessed king" is Asher's full name <3

Apollo - Apollo is named for the figure in Greco-Roman mythology, and there are a few different theories for what this name means!!! The ones I find most interesting, though, are "strength," "father lion/father light," and "to destroy." Apollo isn't super developed as a character yet, but the "father light" one is very interesting... also just in general naming him for the god of prophecy and the sun was a Conscious Choice I won't go into too much depth about rn.

And, finally, as a bonus:

Jimmy - I think Syd named their dog Jimmy mostly as a joke or because they thought it would be cute, but Jimmy comes from the name James, which means "supplanter." Neat!

--

Okay I'm gonna make this an open tag but I also am going to tag @dr-runs-with-scissors because I love learning about your characters,

But also anyone who wants to do this. Please feel free to do so. And absolutely feel free to tag me if you want me to see it; name meanings are my Passion.

[adhd-disaster-willie]

you're the one that brings the sun; chapter 1/6

Summary: Alex is prepared for every single variable except, apparently, the one in which his roommate is drop dead gorgeous and Alex is an absolute clusterfuck of a human being who falls for the first pretty boy on he sees on campus.

Willex roommate au! 

Warnings: Swearing

Notes: The title is from the song “I Dare You” by the Regrettes. I’ve actually planned this fic out so here’s to hoping I don’t get burned out halfway through. It might end up having 6 or 7 chapters, 5 is kind of just an estimate.

---

When Alex was 11, his mother proudly plastered his report card to the fridge and exclaimed that one day, her little boy would go to Harvard. His father gripped his shoulder with pride and Alex beamed up at his parents like they’d just told him he had superpowers. 3 years later, he was 14 and teetering on the edge of failure in the majority of his classes. He wasn’t stupid by any means, just preoccupied. He’d started a band with his best friends and that felt like the most important thing in the whole world, and high school was new and scary, so it was easier to not pour all his focus into school. His parents’ smiles faltered but they kept up hope, Alex could tell. 2 years later, he stood shaking and crying outside of the Molina’s garage and suddenly, the concept of going to college begun to feel distant and fake. But he’s 18 now, and somehow, miraculously, gazing at the piles of boxes in the back of Ray’s car and swallowing down a lump in his throat.

It sure isn’t Harvard, but a part of Alex feels giddy at the fact that he’s attending a public college that was relatively easy to get into; oh his parents would be rolling in their proverbial graves. What didn’t make him quite so happy though, was the looming fact that he’d be living with some random person, because for some godforsaken reason, the college wouldn’t allow freshmen to choose their roomates. Some bullshit about meeting new people and socializing.

“Hey, ‘Lex. Dude, you’ll be fine.” Luke shakes his shoulders, before swinging one arm around him and the other around Reggie.

“Says the one who isn’t even going to college,” Alex grumbles, slipping from Luke’s grip and into the front seat of the car.

“Yea cause I don’t need it. Not my fault you’re both nerds,” Luke retorts.

“I’m not a nerd, I just like to have insurance-”

“Yea, back-up plan, safety net, heard it a million times. Reggie’s a nerd though.”

“Old news, dude,” Alex says.

“I am not a nerd!” Reggie protests indignantly.

“Tell that to your 2 years of college credit in math.”

Luke nods in agreement. “Nerd.”

“Math is fun!”

“You’re horrible.” Alex makes a mock gagging noise.

Julie comes bounding out of the house, her arms decked with various baked goods. She tosses herself in the backseat beside Reggie and Luke, looking quite pleased with herself at being able to force Luke to sit in the middle. “Tía was apparently up all night baking,” she explains, passing the sweets up to Alex. “Don’t be surprised if she shows up at your dorm with food every day.”

Alex snorts. “I would not object to that.”

Julie sighs, leaning back in her seat. “You guys are so lucky, I’m tired of high school. Damn September birthday,” Julie grumbles. Her birthday is just after the cut off date, so she would be 18 for the majority of senior year, but is just barely too young to be in the same grade as the boys.

Reggie leans over and pats her arm sympathetically, earning an offended squeak from Luke, who’s only pushed further into the back of the seat.

“Don’t worry!” Alex chirps sarcastically. “You get to spend more time with Luke, since he’ll be squatting in your garage!”

“Oh, joy,” Julie deadpans.

“I am not a squatter!” Luke protests, kicking the back of Alex’s seat.

“No kicking! I’m holding food!”

“Y’know Alex, you’ve been staying in the studio for 2 years, you’re not one to talk!” Luke argues.

“I have a job.”

“A stupid job.”

“A stupid job that gets you free coffee.”

Reggie nodds to that, chewing on a cookie. “Can’t risk losing your coffee privileges.”

Julie groans loudly and stuck her head out the window. “DAAAAD! Let’s goooo!” She cries.

“Wow, I didn’t know you wanted to get rid of me so badly,” Alex says, clutching his chest dramatically.

“Oh shut up Lexi, I just wanna meet your’s and Reggie’s new best friends!” Julie says, laughing.

“I’m not gonna be best friends with my roommate.”

“Yea, Alex forgot how to do that!”

“Luke I will smother you in your sleep!”

At this, Ray approaches the car with a raised eyebrow. “No one’s planning a murder, I hope?” He asks, chuckling as he slides into the drivers seat.

“No sir!” Reggie replies, grinning.

“Not yet,” Alex mumbles under his breath.

“Alright boys, who’s ready for college!” Ray says, starting the car.

“I’m gonna be sick.”

---

“And that’s the last of it!” Ray claps a hand over Alex’s shoulder and smiles encouragingly.

Alex nods tensely, gripping the strap of his fannypack tighter.

The dorm’s probably as good as he’s gonna get. One reasonably sized bedroom complete with two horribly uncomfortable beds, a kitchen with a fridge that was in no way large enough to fit even a weeks worth of meals, a tiny living room that would probably fit a couch and a TV at the most, and a bathroom that smelled suspiciously of mustard. Really it isn’t terrible, but Alex has a habit of noticing every little detail, especially the ones that could be a problem at some point. His roommate hasn’t arrived yet, so he’s standing amongst his various boxes, anxiety pulsing in his chest.

Julie grips his hand tightly and smiles, tears pricking the edges of her eyes. “Hey, Alex, you’re gonna be okay.” She squeezes his hand briefly.

Alex nods, exhaling shakily. “Yea, yea I know. It’s just…”

“A change, I know. But this is a good change. And-” she hauls Reggie and Luke over to them. “-we’re all here if you need to call someone and talk. And dad, and Tía, and I bet your roommate will be super cool.”

“Or a serial killer.”

“Just pray he’s not a football player,” Reggie stage-whispers, shuddering.

“God, don’t even suggest that!” Alex whines.

Encouragements and teary hugs are passed along, as well as a promise to meet at the Olive Garden nearby for dinner in a few hours, and then Alex’s posse is off to get Reggie settled, and Alex is left alone in the dorm. Alright.

Alex takes a deep breath, steeling himself, before beginning to wander the dorm. He’s anxious to start unpacking without his roommate and risk doing something that they wouldn’t like. Even choosing a bed feels wrong, he really doesn’t want to get off on the wrong foot with this person. But leaving the dorm meant people everywhere so that was a definite no. He sighs, lowering himself to the wooden floor and pulling out his phone.

“Yea… uh huh. Yes Caleb, I got here fine. No the Uber driver did not try and kidnap me. The boxes- the boxes are not too heavy. Okay. Okay. Yea, bye. Mhm.”

Alex looks up hesitantly upon hearing the voice nearing his dorm. The person standing in the doorway is well… less of a person and more of a large stack of boxes threatening to fall over any second. “Hello?” Alex stands up and makes his way to the boy stood in the entrance.

Said boy pokes his head out from behind his boxes and grins crookedly. “Hi, uh, I’m Willie!” And well, Alex is a goner. He swallows thickly, breath catching in the back of his throat. Willie attempts to adjust the boxes but ultimately fails, sending them tumbling to the ground amongst several muttered curses. “Well… nothing fragile in there,” he falters slightly. “I think.”

“Um…”

“Right! Sorry, uh.” Willie holds his hand out and Alex shakes it tentatively.

“Alex.”

“Alex, cool.” Willie smiles again, his dark eyes twinkling as he does so, smile lines popping out. He brushes his hair -which looks so soft and pretty- behind his ear to reveal a small golden hoop on his right lobe. Alex is dead, actually 100% dead. Because he’d been prepared for every single variable except, apparently, the one in which his roommate is drop dead gorgeous and Alex is an absolute clusterfuck of a human being who falls for the first pretty boy on he sees on campus.

Alex forces out a smile, all too aware that he’s still standing stiff and awkward in front of Willie, his grip on his fannypack tight enough to make his knuckles glow white. Then Willie coughs as some sort of attempt to fill the silence. “Sorry!” Alex squeaks. “Do you need help with the… the uh, boxes?”

“Oh yea, that’d be great!” Willie replies, beaming. “I don’t think there’s anything fragile in there, but y’know, my memory is absolute shit so if I broke some fancy china dishes I didn’t even know I owned, don’t be too shocked.”

Alex laughs anxiously. “Yea uh… I didn’t start unpacking cause I um… I didn’t want to claim a bed and stuff with-without your input?” His voice cracks at the end and he winces because Jesus fucking christ Alex.

Willie chuckles and Alex notes that he has the kind of laugh that echoes through your whole body and settles right in your heart. “ ‘S cool, man, I don’t mind.”

“Right, cool. Do you uh… are you okay if I take the bed farthest from the window? I’m not- not much of a morning person, and the window is… it’s east facing” Alex mutters, his gaze focused on his feet which are rocking back and forth at a rapid pace.

“Yea, of course,” Willie replies. “I don’t think I’ve woken up later than 8 in 5 years.”

“That’s horrific!” Alex cries, momentarily forgetting his anxiety. He steps back and blushes an even deeper red upon realizing how stupid he’s being. “I mean- I just… sorry, I just meant that-”

“You’re good, dude. I don’t bite.”

Alex cracks a tentative smile. “So uh… I’ll just start unpacking then.”

Willie shoots him a thumbs up and smiles once again, which is a thing he apparently does a lot.

An hour later, Alex’s belongings are unpacked and organized and the room feels a bit more his. He feels slightly lighter, exhaling and closing his eyes briefly. This isn’t so bad. Fiddling with the hem of his hoodie, he shuffles out into the living room where Willie is presumably unpacking. Except that he’s not.

Willie is laying upside down on a couch that somehow appeared while Alex was gone and he’s flipping through a tattered magazine while his belongings remain mostly unpacked.

“This quiz says that I should try roller skating,” Willie sniffs. “Some personality test this is- oh hey Alex!” He scrambles up so that he can look Alex in the eyes properly, and points to the magazine in his hand. “Found this in a box, not sure how it got there since I’ve never even subscribed to one of these, but there’s a chocolate chip cookie recipe in here.” He stops for a moment, pondering. “Personally I prefer peanut butter cookies, ooh especially fresh out of the oven. There’s this bakery near my house that-”

“Did you get… any unpacking done?” Alex asks, raising an eyebrow.

Willie looks around at his boxes and laughs sheepishly. “Well I unpacked one and opened 3 so… some, yes.”

“Where’d the couch come from?” Alex pokes the cushion warily, as if afraid that it’s full of bugs.

“Room across the hall,” Willie says, pointing. “They both brought couches and didn’t have room for two we got the one with more stains.”

“Right.” Alex’s reply is forced and tense, and he winces upon realizing. Truthfully, he hadn’t expected his roommate to become so comfortable so fast and he felt like he was several steps behind. Damn extroverts. Drumming his hands against his thighs, Alex slowly sits down on the other side of the couch, pointedly looking ahead instead of at Willie.

“So.” Willie scoots closer, sitting cross legged with his elbows on his thighs and chin resting in his palms. “What’s your major?”

Small talk, god Alex hates small talk. “Um, music,” he answers.

“Ah, that’s cool dude.” Willie nods.

“Uh, what about you?” Alex asks.

“Art,” Willie replies, grinning. “Be prepared for paint stains, like, everywhere.” He chuckles and nudges Alex’s shoulder playfully. Alex is going to implode, he’s sure of it.

Alex laughs awkwardly. “So uh… what’s wrong with rollerskating?”

Willie shoves his shoulder again. “Everything, dude! Well-” he cuts himself off, thinking. “-I just kinda suck at it, definitely better at my skateboard.” He jerks his head in the direction of a skateboard leaned against the wall and Alex wonders how he didn’t notice that.

“Oh, that’s- that’s cool. I rollerblade but I uh, I can’t skateboard to save my life.”

Somehow, they slip into a comfortable rhythm, and Alex notes that his anxiety no longer has him in a chokehold. Willie seems to have that affect; he’s just so… open. Alex doesn’t realize it yet, but he’s subconsciously created a folder in the back of his mind labelled “Willie,” and he doesn’t think he’s capable of forgetting anything Willie will ever say to him.

“- that’s why airplane food is just, horrible. Cause you basically lose like 30% of your tastebuds because of the elevation.” Willie smiles at Alex, gaging his response.

Alex would rather die than admit that he’s still trying to figure out how the topic of airplane food came up, so he just nods enthusiastically, actively stopping his eyes from dancing across Willie’s face, which is practically glowing in the evening sun. Evening. Shit. Alex pulls out his phone frantically. “Shit.” He says it out loud this time.

Willie’s brow furrows in confusion. “You good, dude?”

“Uh yea I’m just, I’m supposed to be meeting my fam- uh my friends for dinner and I have to be there in like 5 minutes.” He ignores the way Willie’s expression falls, convinced he’s just seeing things.

“Yea um, of course. I won’t keep you.” Willie stands up, his posture the stiffest that Alex has seen it in the whole 3 hours they’ve been acquainted for. “I’ll just… order a pizza.”

Alex hesitates in the doorway, weighing his options, which has never been his strong suit. “Do you want to join me?” He blurts impulsively. Willie looks at him in surprise. “I mean only- only if you want of course, we’ve only really uh, known each other for a few hours and you- you probably don’t want to, it was stupid. I’ll just- I’ll just go-”

“No! I’d… I’d like to, eating pizza alone in the dark sounds a little pathetic,” Willie responds.

Alex smiles genuinely. “Ok, ok that’s uh. Cool. That’s cool.”

---

Alex is already regretting this. The restaurant isn’t too crowded, he notices with a relieved breath. But it’s loud. It’s loud and yet only one group of people is talking. Alex doesn’t even need to guess who.

“Ok but- no- no- the whole song would be better!”

“Say banjo one more time, I dare you!”

“Banjo.”

“Julie, what the hell?! This is betrayal!”

“You stole my breadstick, it’s only fair.”

Alex coughs, quieting the table to a dull roar.

“Alex!” Julie pulls him down to sit next to her. “Oh? Who’s this?” Reggie is grinning wickedly and Luke waggles his eyebrows in a way that makes Alex want to shave them off.

“This is uh, my roommate Willie,” Alex responds, his voice raising an octave. “He didn’t have plans so I uh… I invited him, I hope that’s ok.”

“Of course it’s ok!” Julie pats the space on the other side of Alex and Willie sits down, appearing… oddly nervous.

“Congrats! Your Alex’s first new friend since,” Luke taps his chin, pretending to think. “7th grade.”

Alex’s face promptly falls into his hands. He’s seriously considering the whole, shaving Luke’s eyebrows in his sleep thing.

Reggie leans forward conspiratorially. “What’s your opinion on banjos?” He asks, making a point to ignore Luke’s dramatic complaining.

Willie raises his eyebrows, clearly confused. “Um. No comment?”

“I’m… sorry about them,” Alex says apolegetically. “Uh, this is Luke, Reggie, and Julie-” he gestures to each of them; Reggie waves, beaming happily. “-and Julie’s dad should be…” He trails off, looking around.

“He had to take a phone call, something about Carlos refusing to eat dinner until he proves the house is haunted,” Julie explains, clearly biting back a laugh.

“I… okay.” Alex shakes his head. “Are we waiting for more food or did Reggie eat it all?”

“Ha ha,” Reggie punctuates his statement by sticking out his tongue. “We’re waiting for the actual meals-”

“Yea Luke already ate the entire bread basket.” Julie shoots a glare in Luke’s direction.

“Well… you suggested we get hotdogs,” Luke grumbles, crossing his arms over his chest. “Payback.”

“Okay,” Julie laughs.

Willie leans over to whisper loudly to Alex, “What’s the story with the hotdogs?”

“Don’t tell him!” Luke cries, leaning across the table and slamming his palms down.

“We don’t talk of the hot-dogs,” Reggie mutters miserably.

“Food poisoning.” Alex shudders slightly. “Very bad food poisoning.”

“We almost died,” Reggie says, eyes widening. “Like, for real death. I’m pretty sure I was a ghost for a few seconds.”

“Reg, you were not a ghost,” Alex says, speaking like Reggie’s a 10 year old talking about monsters under his bed.

“I was!”

“You were not!”

“So,” Luke smiles mischievously, taking Reggie and Alex’s bickering as an opportunity to apparently torture the latter. Despite Alex’s warning glares, he turns to Willie with an innocent expression. “What kind of music do you like?”

“Luke,” Alex hisses, all too familiar with Luke’s antics.

“Hmmm.” Willie is painfully oblivious to Alex’s panicked expression as he mulls over his answer. “A lot of stuff really.” He shrugs. “Rock, pop, I like those lo-fi playlists when I’m trying to study.”

Luke nods, clearly pleased with the answer, but he isn’t done and Alex wants to hide under the table. He knows what’s coming next. “Thoughts on… drummers?”

“Luke.” Alex is seconds from lunging across the table.

“Drummers?” Willie asks, tilting his head confusedly.

“Yup,” Luke says, popping the p and still smiling like he’s some sort of innocent puppy-dog and not an absolute bastard.

“Hot,” Willie jokes. Alex can’t even hide the way he manages to choke on his own spit, and Luke and Reggie have never been great at subtlety, turning to Alex with matching shit-eating grins. Willie either doesn’t notice or is kind enough not to comment on it. “Yea, pretty sure young Roger Taylor was my gay awakening.”

Reggie is full on giggling now, and Alex’s entire face is gleaming a bright red. Willie glances around the table, puzzled.

“Mhm.” Luke nods before swiftly turning to Alex. “Hey Alex, by the way, you left your drumsticks in the car, do you need them back?” His voice is sickeningly sweet, coated in some sort of poisoned honey. It’s Willie’s turn to choke on nothing, failing to disguise it as a spontaneous coughing fit.

“Fine,” Alex squeaks as he sinks further down in his seat. If he pulls out his phone and messages Luke a flurry of threats, that’s no one’s business. He dares a glance at Willie, who has become quite fascinated with his hands, which are tapping out a mindless rhythm on the table, his cheeks and the tips of his ears dusted red.

Needless to say, Alex makes sure Luke doesn’t even get to look at the next bread basket.

---

I hope you liked it! Tell me if you want to be added to the taglist :)

I’m hoping to update at least once a week, but who knows. Ok thats all.

chapter 2

Chapter 3

chapter 4

chapter 5

chapter 6

[audhooman]

WARNING: will probably ruin your childhood, has a wall of text, mention of violence, gang violence mention, includes the plot of Oliver & Co., this is my ramble

Please note that I love this movie and it’s one of my favorites, I simply had a what-if thinking spiral

so I was watching Oliver & Co. and I thought of them as humans (as one does) but when I tried to rewrite the story with the animals as humans?

It got so much darker

Like, sure we like the idea of it and seeing what we think they’d look like as humans is super cool, but think about it-

It’s a story of an orphan that gets lost on the streets of NYC in the 80s, and he’s very hungry. So he searches for food, but the guy doesn’t give him any. An ADULT MAN comes along and says he’ll help get the food, it works, but the man runs off with the food they got together. Naturally the boy chases after him to get the food back- all the way to where the man is staying with his (OTHER ADULT) friends to share the food with some made up story. The boy makes his presence known, but is threatened by everyone but the man earlier (sure they think he’s from another gang but hE IS A KID). The man explains and they ease up, even going as far as excepting him into the ‘family’ (gang. They even say they’re a gang in the film). Another (ADULT) man shows up and it’s found out they’re in BIG DEBT with a mafia(?) boss. The mobster shows up with his two bodyguards that threaten the ‘family’ while Mr Scrungly (that’s what I’m gonna call debt man) talks with scary loan shark guy. Blah blah, life is threatened, 3 days to get the money, blah blah blah- Mr Scrungly comes back after scary boss guy leaves, learns about the new kid, and welcomes him warmly. NEXT DAY! They take the new kid and show him the ropes of their job (steal money via exploitation). As this is going on, the little boy makes friends with a little girl that’s in the car and he ends up going home with her (as the gang is left behind after being found out, but they think the boy was kidnapped due to them being found out). Little boy and little girl bond by making the kitchen a disaster for one very unhealthy snack, butler calls parents, little boy gets to stay! Meanwhile the resident adult female (what would she be in human AU? An aunt, cousin? Let’s go with aunt that leaches off her sibling’s wealth) is UNHAPPY over the fact a new child from the streets is now in ‘her’ house. Oh also she flirts with every man and plays with their hearts blah blah blah that musical number where birds drooled over a poodle. Anyways, she doesn’t like the fact the boy is here and is jealous of the two children practicing piano and playing. Later when the ‘rescue mission’ commences she helps the group KIDNAP. OLIVER. They take him back home and are shocked to find that! Oh wow!! He liked it there at the kind rich kid’s house where he didn’t have to worry about food?! How could he!! This is a betrayal! Let’s KICK THE CHILD OUT OF OUR HOME!!! Then Mr Scrungly comes back, hugging the kid for comfort and is very sad he didn’t get money cause now he’ll probably DIE. He sees that hey! New kid has new and expensive looking accessories! Instead of selling those accessories, what if we RANSOM HIM?!? So they do, but when rich girl comes with fancy lady and a piggy bank, Mr Scrungly realizes that these are children. This is very wrong and we should not do this. But it’s too late and the girl gets kidnapped by evil loan shark man. Blah blah rescue mission: yeeting the boy through a window is a great idea, huh? Then they sneak in and are saving the girl, yay! LOAN SHARK PULLS OUT A GUN! Mr Scrungly appears, yay! They hightail it outta there on the very cheap scooter/moped thing and it’s a car chase through NYC at night- somehow they go through the subway tracks, fight scenes commence, the two bodyguards are killed, they end up on a bridge, the boy and the man are THROWN by the loan shark, the gang maneuvers so they aren’t hit by a train, loan shark was distracted by last minute and gets hit by the train and DIES. Everyone goes to the side so they aren’t killed and check on the boy and man. Boy looks d e a d. Man is sad. Everyone is sad cause they think he’s dead but nO WAIT HES ALIVE! Blah blah victory- timeskip to the little girl’s birthday and oh wow she’s let all these homeless people in her house for her birthday and her butler and aunt(?) are okay with it! But it’s okay cause they’re friends now :)! Her parents definitely won’t mind! ‘sides, they all leave once Mr Scrungly loses a bet to the butler lmao

[sweet-rintarou]

"How long have you been in the limelight?" You asked as you popped an olive into your mouth. Right now, you were on your entrée meals of an Alfresco pasta dish, and Oikawa devouring a shrimp Alfredo. You were expected to spend at least an hour or so to allow the media to think it was a legitimate date. However, since the food started coming in, the two of you were only ranting about each other's agencies, the media being idiots and also how the entire plan is going to crumble at some point. 

"Since I was in middle school, around that time—I think towards the end of middle school," he explained, "I started getting a lot of popularity in high school though, but that was only within my prefecture." 

"Must've sucked to never go to nationals, huh?" How you nonchalantly stated it caused him to send you a dumbfounded look. "Hey, I'm just saying."

"Yeah, I know," he huffed, "but nah, it sucked I couldn't take my team, but we've settled everything now and we've all moved on." 

"How mature."

"Thank you," he smiled sarcastically, "anyway, after moving to Argentina, I was off the Japan radar for a while, and when I came back, I became a national pride despite playing for another team, and they've approached me for advertising and stuff, and now, they asked for me to star in a web series to which leads us right here." 

"How things work out, ya know?" You couldn't help but say out loud. 

"Yeah, I just wish Ushijima could've stayed in volleyball so I could play against him and beat him, ya know?"

"How're you so sure that you'd beat him?"

"If you've seen my team, we'd win for sure," he boasted. "It's funny though, I thought I'd never meet him if he didn't continue volleyball, but look at you being a complete simp for him."

"Hey!" You protested, cheeks flushing red. "I'm only partly a simp."

"Yeah, yeah, whatever lets you sleep at night." You rolled your eyes, wiping the sauce with your bread. "Did you tell him about this?"

"Nope, couldn't if I wanted to," you told him, "the agency won't allow it."

"How do you think he'd react?" You stared at each other, sure enough you were both thinking the same thing as the image of the stoic and almost expression-less Wakatoshi Ushijima came to mind. 

"Yeah, I shouldn't have asked."

-

The conversation began to flow towards each other, and if anyone were to observe the both of you, no one would ever believe that you'd be dating, even if it was for a PR stunt. You both shared similar views, and personalities weren't too far apart, that it seemed you were best friends since birth. 

"I feel like if Ushijima and I were to go to the same school, we'd be a great duo," Oikawa rambled on, "he was a very powerful offense player, while I had a name for myself in setting, and if were to be in the same team, it would've worked out incredibly well and our team would probably be one of the toughest.”

You only listened, other than Semi, Oikawa would be one of the few sources you could be in contact with that would allow you to get to know Ushijima. 

"But his ideas didn't match with mine and he was suffocating when were played against each other," he said, "I'm sure he's a great guy and to be honest I'd like to meet up with him and get to know him outside of volleyball, but damn, I'd probably punch him first."

"Yeah no, do not do that," you complained. "He was... interesting when I first met him—he hated my band." The dry laugh indicated it was still a bitter memory. 

"Damn, really?"

"Yeah, he refused to support Semi on his choice to pursue music, but that was because our genre didn't cater to his taste," you explained, "but it's fine now... I hope."

"Yeah, I feel like your company will change the image of the band." You nodded, unable to think of anything to say. "When does your contract end with them?"

"Around five years, if I'm not wrong." 

"Damn, that's a long time." Again, you nodded. 

"But, if there's any mistreatment then there's a possibility to terminate it," you tried to view the bright side, "then again, the company itself has a huge presence in the industry..."

"Your fans won't allow anything to happen to you, I'm sure." You could only nod and send him a small smile, but even he was sure you were skeptical. Seeing that you were over the dinner, he stood up and extended his hand. "Shall we proceed?" Releasing the last groan of frustration, you linked arms with Oikawa and prepared to reveal yourselves to the public. 

"Prepare for your social medias to be flooded," he whispered before you both exit through the front door. You'd almost think it was day with how much light was flashing from the cameras, and you hastily pushed your way through the crowd and into the car that was waiting. Eyes casted away from the paparazzi, questions inquiring your date, when it had all began, and if its official were being yelled throughout the crowd. 

Once seated in the car, Oikawa began driving and glanced at you worriedly.  

"I'm gonna blackout tonight," you stated out loud with a heavy sigh, which Oikawa responded with a laugh. 

silver lining | w. ushijima smau

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part thirty

—blackout

author's note: heyhey heyy, let us pray that i will have ideas for upcoming parts🥵

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