#i had a brief period where i was kinda annoyed that almost everything i was making required me to Pay Attention

[countthelions]

got reminded it has been a while since i've done a knitting round-up, so here we are!! Last time I said I was only doing the active projects and honestly, hated that approach. So now we've got all of them back on the plate.

First picture, top to bottom, left to right: [jem cowl] [mini quinn] [birch creek bandana] [hollows] [trigradient shawl] [color symphony]

Second picture: [holocene] [ethos cowl] [esther jacket] [koko] [irish chain afghan] [triangular shawlette]

[tassodelmiele]

Noisy little mess

Hi cuties, i'll leave this here for your entertainment.

A little fic i've written just for fun, i don't even know if i'm gonna make it longer or leave it as a one-shot experiment.

Hope you enjoy!

And hope my english is not a mess too

DISCLAIMERS: ReaderxGhost, smut (not so much, but we have masturbation and a little bit of anal fingering, dunno if you may like, but really it's just a hint), dirty talking, chocolate for breakfast, little bit of moans, dom, gym rat character (yes i can't live without weights).

..............................................................................................................................

I believe Simon is that kinda man who starts with the rough way, being the "bad policeman".

At first he doesn't trust you.

Obviously.

You get acquainted, begin to talk more often, share moments together: he drinks his coffee for breakfast, complaining about the lack of tea at the base, while you spend twenty minutes backing your cocoa oatmeal with chocolate on top. He glares at you like you're some sort of stupid child, but eventually he helps you reach the top shelf where someone put your goddamn honey (white sugar is for the weak), since you're a gnome.

And the two of you start to talk. Well, at first you exchange brief comments and monosyllabic answers.

Than some curiosities escape through your lips: about what the hell are you doing at the base (you've appeared from nowhere all of a sudden), why you've chosen the military life (since you really do look like a little happy garden gnome); why he's wearing the scariest of the mask you've ever seen (he won't answer to this, though); why you and Jhonny keep on exchanging slaps on the butt (someone have lost a bet).

The day he'd spotted you make your kinda breakfast for Gaz too (he's got a sweet tooth), you'd ended up baking for the entire task force. And your chocolate get right to their hearts.

He keeps on looking at you with curiosity. Sometimes he thinks you're a little bit…dumb. He thinks it a lot: when you try to open the door with your elbow since you've got fresh nail polish and don't wanna ruin it (in a goddamn military base); when you daydream about where would you like to do a piercing, spending every pause from work looking at pinterest references. When he finds you eating breakfast at 5 am, or laying everywhere on the ground under the sun (he asked you about it, and you answered that you were doing photosynthesis). He does think you live in your magical world made of unicorns and chocolate.

Then he sees you at the gym, deadlifting a goddamn truck, pushing hell with your chest which seemed so little to him, carrying weights that the other rookies could only dream about.

You end every training drained from every bit of energy, doing whatever you have to even if some mornings you'd rather jump from an airplane; and every training finishes with a big smile toward your Lt., which seems so proud of you, a little gnome made out of bricks and chocolate.

He starts to trust you. You've never fought together on a mission, but he begins to look at you as a reliable human being. At least none of his comrades had died 'cause of your breakfast yet, you've never missed a meet, you finish your duties every day. 

The other guys from task force 141 seem to like you like some sort of stray kitten suddenly jumped at the base, treating you like a little one even if you're almost thirty. But it doesn't seem to annoy you, and your weird friendship with Soap and Gaz ends up doing "photosynthesis" together in the little garden spot under Price's office window.

Everything is cool, everything is nice…till something goes wrong.

And there you are, one particularly lonely night, in the precise month period in which you could fuck a light pole (thanking your incoming menstruations), with hormones filling you like a pie and almost dripping from your nose. 

There you are, closing your eyes, lying on the bed with your legs spread, thinking about whatever helps you finish your "necessary duty" as soon as fuck.

There you are, touching you like crazy, rubbing that poor clit of yours just to try gain some peace of mind.

You're usually silent: neither a breath nor a moan. But this time…this time it's too strong, you're too needy, your brain is melting under the pleasure and the smallest, tiniest whine escapes through your lips. 

<Was everything good last night?>

The next morning starts with this question, a large cup of coffee (you've slept like shit), your oatmeal and Ghost's eyes looking at you silently, inquiring, unreadable.

He waits for an answer, and your eyelid glitch.

Fuck

And you know he heard. 'Cause you know, there's no need to ask. 

<No> 

You surprise even yourself by being so honest. You're ready to make something up, even if he doesn't need to know why you weren't good. 

But he stay silent.

And you bury your face in the oatmeal.

The entire day was spent submerged in documents and bureaucracy, so gym had to be done after dinner. You don't feel at ease: even in your oversize jumpsuit it seems that every seam is made just to collide with your sensitive spot, that's still hurting from yesterday night. 

You go straight to the lat machine, charging all of the weight you can, trying to distract your fucked up brain. 

You do the first set: it's hard, but you can handle it.

You do the second: at the third rep, you barely manage to bring the weight midway to you. Your back is pulling at its limits, your eyes are squeezed, lungs are burning with the lack of oxygen…and, at your limit, you open your eyes, looking at the mirror in front of you.

Error 404

The reflection of Ghost, incredibly showing his arms muscles in a t-shirt which you've never thought could fit his wardrobe, hit you like a truck. It's not just the arms: it's the veins and tattoos, biceps and strength, it's whatever you'd like to bite and you know you'd let his hands smack your body like a pillow.

All of a sudden.

Just 'cause you do like big muscles.

Or just 'cause you're craving to be touched like a clown fish craves his fucking anemone.

Your arms get weak for one goddamn second: you lose the grip on the weight, and a terribly audible, almost hissed moan runs through the gym.

You bite your lips immediately. That moment will be remembered as one of the shittiest times in your life, and you're wondering if it's better pretending to be dead on the seat, or running away with nonchalance…when your back bumps into something.

You raise your eyes, and he's crouched behind you.

Thank god you're alone.

Thank god you're behaving better than last night.

Thank god you're still sitting on the lat machine, since you wouldn't be able to stand.

<Are you doing it on purpose?>

You shake your head, not daring to speak. You don't know what could get out of your mouth. 

His hands have reached your sweatpants in a blink of an eye, rough enough that you thought you had to say goodbye to the elastic band; he's slipped under your panties, making some sort of low groan as he feels on his gloves how wet you are.

And now he's sailing in your cunt in every direction, making you tremble like an idiot clinged on the machine.

<There's no use in being so fucking silent now. You should've think about it earlier>

He takes his hand off your panties, and for good measure he slaps on your pussy so hard you know it will grow a bruise.

You're swallowing hot air, letting your shoulders bump in small movements as your breath is scattered, fast, hissed through your teeth.

And his already wet hand reaches your mouth, stuffing it with your juices, pressing on your tongue and sliding so deep inside that your throat starts to twitch. Mouth gets wet, filling with saliva, and you desperately try to not choke with his fingers still inside.

But he's got other plans; and leaning so close to your ear that you can feel the texture of his mask, he orders:

<don't you dare swallow, sweetheart>

And you stay still. 

Because you're an idiot? Maybe. A masochist? You've never thought so, but apparently yes.

You stay still while your body jerks by himself on the seat, trying to concentrate on your heavy nose breathing. Saliva drools over your chin in sticky, wet wires, and he collects them on his thumb, pulling them back on your mouth.

<Good girl, so effective in following orders>

You don't even dare looking at the mirror in front of you. Your pussy is a lake, so wet your ass could slip on the panties.

He knows.

And the other hand of him suddenly runs again under your underwear, pressing where the sun doesn't shine, sliding one finger in that hole in such a fast motion that you can't help but cry.

It hurts

It does, but the mixture of pain and arousal is confusing you. Your brain is not working, eyes start to get wet and mouth is choked by your saliva and his fingers, and everything smells like cunt's juices.

He pushes his finger deeper, and you know he's looking at your face through the mirror, dear god. 

His mask brushes again on your ear, on your cheek.

<You're gonna take everything, aren't you? You're tightening your ass pussy around my fingers, cumming on me like the good kitty you are, mucking up my gloves with your stinky juices»

There's nothing really right: the hole isn't the right one, the place isn't the right one, his tone and his attitude are colliding so badly with the picture of him you've got in your mind. 

But somehow you're managing to not question things.

You just can't. You're fried, burned, a little knot of dirty mess and moans choked in your guts and dripping in wetness, all tied in his grip, in his harsh voice, in his rough fingers that are digging everywhere but where you're desperately needy.

And you can't take anymore of it.

It's like hearing yourself from outside when you speak, every words trembled and choked in your saliva that's totally overflowed on your chin:

<please…i…need…>

Your brain doesn't allow you to finish the sentence, and Ghost chuckles on this last spark of dignity you have.

<Speak up kitty> 

He lets another finger slide inside your ass, pushing roughly to make space.

<I can't hear you>

His fingers get out of your mouth, just to spank your pussy again, making you finally break a loud moan.

He grips your throat in his hands, squeezing till he feels every ring of your windpipe under his fingertips.

Then he lets go.

He releases your body all of a sudden, leaving you empty and throbbing, wet and still needy, almost choked by your own saliva. 

And he seems…satisfied, somehow. Satisfied just by your only, lonely moan, wringed out of you with so much diligence.

You, his noisy little mess.

..............................................................................................................................

[bitimdrake]

So what’s with the fanon antagonism from Bruce toward Hal Jordan? It’s not something I see in canon outside of a little bit in GL Rebirth which is kind of justified because Hal, y’know, turned into a megalomaniac. But even in fanon depictions where the timeline is in some sort of pseudo-Bronze Age stasis where the League is the Big Seven plus maybe Ollie and they’re operating from the satellite and also the Batfamily exists somehow, I’ve seen a lot of Bruce hating Hal for no good reason.

Also, the depiction of Billy Batson in fandom, namely the tendency to have him act like a young child as Captain Marvel and get adopted by Bruce, leads me to believe that nobody’s ever read a Shazam comic. Post-crisis Billy is in high school - he’s canonically the same age as Stargirl. In both post-Crisis and New 52, he has his own adoptive families, and even when he didn’t, he worked at WHIZ Radio to rent an apartment on his own. Meanwhile, fanon Billy is homeless until Bruce adopts him.

I’ve also noticed a weird tendency in fandom to… not know who was in the League at any given time, or even attempt to set things in a particular period? Like, the JLA is almost always the Big 7 + maybe Ollie, Dinah, and Zatanna if you’re lucky. Even in the Satellite era, J’onn and Bruce both took long leaves of absence, and there were other people around. And that’s not even taking into account the Detroit League, the JLA/JLE split, the Morrison League, the Obsidian Age team, etc.

(lost this one in my drafts oops. sorry.)

Yeah god so. Two of these things I think are pretty reasonable results of people focusing in on their preferred characters and not knowing much about the rest of the universe.

And that's not hard! Even if you read comics--hell, even if you read a lot of comics--you can remain completely ignorant about one area of the universe. It's a big universe. (Hi! I know almost nothing about Green Lanterns except when they show up in massive crossovers or interact with my Titans blorbos.)

Personally, I'm annoyed when people are very wrong about the actual subject of the fic (e.g. if they're writing a fic about the JLA but getting everything wrong). And I'm really annoyed when they unfairly demonize someone.

But if the fic is about, say, the batfam, and the writer is spot on about them, but not so accurate when the JLA makes a brief appearance? I get it. It's a big universe.

Certain things about the JLA are better known than others, and people who don't actually know specifics about the JLA just kinda...assume all those things are Always True. Thus the perpetual Bronze Age, and perpetual Bruce vs Hal.

For those wondering what is true then: the JLA has a LOT of rotation. The team is constantly swapping out. They've had many different bases. I can't tell you who's on the JLA and where unless you first tell me when.

So the more we comics readers know, the more little annoyances you will get from fic inaccuracies. (For me, it's when people refer to Barry as the Flash in fics set mid post-Crisis and I'm like Barry Allen Has Been Dead For Years.) But I'm honestly very forgiving of those!

The Bruce adopts Billy Batson thing is hot garbage though. Like, c'mon guys. I don't expect you to know everything! It's okay if you don't know much about the Marvel family while writing batfam fics! But for god's sake stop making everything about Batman and the batfam. Other characters can exist without being spagettified by their gravity. Please let them be. And please stop trying to give Bruce new kids; he already doesn't deserve the ones he has.

[ectonurites]

heyyy can you talk about kons dating history or atleast with older women? ive seen a few posts but im not sure but thats so ://///

Ahhh yes. Kon’s dating history, I've finally now finished reading all his solo comics (and had already gone through his team books a while back) so it’s a perfect time to delve into this. I’m kinda broadening it to his love interests in general, as not all of them put an official ‘dating’ label on things, but are still worth bringing up. This is kinda long so sorry in advance about that, but I tried to be as brief as possible.

TW for pedophilia (in these specific cases discussing a 23 year old dating a 16 year old, and another woman without a specifically given age [but clearly an adult] with the same 16 year old) obviously i’m not talking about it positively here but it’s unfortunately necessary to discuss with this topic.

I consider Kon as having five primary love interests in the pre-reboot comics world, which is where most of his dating happened. The ‘criteria’ I guess i’m using to separate them from the others i’ll talk about after is a combination of ‘they interacted for a long time’ and/or ‘the relationship had a big impact on his story/him as a person’. 

I’m also mainly sticking in pre-New 52 world for this because aside from the 'fake married to Lophi to protect her and her kid on Gemworld' thing in Young Justice 2019, he hasn't done much with relationships since getting officially reintroduced. Then the New 52 version of Kon was a very separate person and even so he was mainly just (sorta) involved with Cassie.

ANYWAYS the main five are:

Tana Moon - Tana was a 23 year old (as stated in Superboy #32) reporter Kon initially met during Reign of the Supermen, the story he debuted in (meaning she was one of the first people he met), who also happened to move back to Hawaii around the time he ended up there on his press tour. The two of them had an on and off relationship from basically the start of the comic until she broke up with him in Superboy #46. She briefly came back into his life in Superboy #72 after having been kidnapped by The Agenda, before being killed by Amanda Spence in Superboy #74. Kon and several others refer to her as his ‘first love’ especially after her death, which weighed very heavily on him.

Knockout/Kay - A woman we find out was originally one of the Female Furies, who works as a stripper at the 'Boom Boom Room’ in Hawaii while trying to keep a low-profile after leaving Apokolips. We don't get an exact age for her but she's very much so implied to be an adult. She hits on Kon from the moment she meets him (she also quite literally uses the term ‘jailbait’ to describe him in her first appearance in Superboy #1) and kisses him several times, insisting on working with him and training him and eventually beginning a more formal relationship with him. She kills someone and he blindly defends her thinking she couldn’t have done it, and she tries to coerce him into killing someone by promising herself to him (before killing the guy herself when Kon wouldn’t do it). The arc mainly focused on their relationship is from Superboy #22-30, but she is a presence in the comic from the start. She is arrested for the murders she committed at the end of the arc, and doesn't interact with Kon much again after as she is in a high security prison, but she is referenced multiple times.

Roxy Leech - Roxy is the daughter of Rex Leech, Kon's agent. From the moment she meets Kon, also during Reign of the Supermen like Tana, she's got a thing for him. Her age is left a bit more unclear, as some bits of dialogue indicate she is actually close to Kon's age but other things like how she applies to the police academy, something you need to be like 20 to do, indicate she's a bit older. Regardless, she’s definitely younger than Tana as she comments on her age at least once. She actively dislikes both Tana and Knockout for being interested in Kon, and confesses her feelings to him during a 'the whole world might end tonight' situation (in Superboy #33). The two of them didn't really date, but there is a period of time where Kon feels torn between Tana and Roxy. Not too long after that she ends up volunteering herself to be used in a procedure to stabilize Kon's dna after it had been torn apart by The Agenda when they cloned him, as the method to save him required someone close in age to him be used as a genetic template. From that point on they considered each other more like siblings, ending the romantic aspect of their relationship (in Superboy #41)

Serling Roquette - Serling is a 16 year old (as first stated in Superboy #57) science prodigy who works in the genetics department of Cadmus, and is the person who manages to cure Kon's condition where he'd been stuck at age 16 (a side effect from the procedure with Roxy). Initially she had a crush on Guardian, but over time grew to like Kon, she was one of the first people at Cadmus he personally tells his name ‘Kon-El’ to. They only kinda start to get together before Tana comes back and then is killed. After a situation where Roxy came back and needed help, when he and Serling try to maybe pick things up again, Kon realizes Tana’s death is still too fresh for him to get involved in anything too serious with her and he breaks it off, leaving them very tense with one another. (Superboy #82) 

Wonder Girl/Cassie Sandsmark - Cassie had an interest in Kon before she even met him, more of a celebrity crush at first than anything else. They share their first kiss in Wonder Woman #153 after she had tried to change her look to impress him and he reassured her that she was already beautiful the way she is. Cassie was present for Tana's death in Superboy #74, and after that Kon is overly protective of her in a noticeable way that actively annoyed her (She points out to him that she can take care of herself a few times, like in Young Justice #29) but eventually at the end of Young Justice (in #55) he confesses feelings for her, and they share another kiss. Graduation Day bringing about the end of Young Justice as a team kinda throws a wrench in things, but early in Teen Titans Vol. 3 they begin to date more formally, and are getting pretty serious together (cough cough they uhh consummate their relationship in the Kent farm's barn in TT Annual #1) right before Kon is killed during Infinite Crisis. She takes his death very badly and joins a cult to try to bring him back, has her whole thing with Tim (who is coping equally poorly with the death... almost 100 cloning attempts babey), and befriends Kara as a surrogate Teen Kryptonian™, but eventually learns to accept what happened and move on. Then he comes back, and everything's a lot to process all over again. She had become the team leader and things were just different than they used to be. They tried to resume their relationship but eventually Kon decided to end it (Teen Titans Vol. 3 #91), because they both wanted different things at that point in their lives, but they remained friends and teammates.

So when people are talking about the ‘older women’ thing, it should be pretty clear from that list they’re talking about Tana and Knockout. Both were adult women dating a 16 year old boy, and neither situation did enough to handle it in a way that addressed it as the problem it was. Knockout’s situation did end up being seen as a bad thing by the end because of the murder parts at the very least, but the age difference didn’t come up nearly as much. With Tana a few people (Roxy, some of Tana’s coworkers, even Tana herself) did bring up the age difference as a potential problem, but they continued to stay together for a pretty long time regardless. The kicker is that she ultimately breaks up with him for being ‘immature’ after he gets stuck at age 16, when it’s like... he’s 16. You’re 23. No kidding you think he’s immature? It was just a whole mess and makes reading a lot of his solo incredibly uncomfortable.

Additionally he has a few other shorter-lived relationships/potential love interests. I’m categorizing them separately because they weren’t focused on in the same ways/for as much time as the girls I listed above:

Trixie (Superboy #94-100) - When Kon gets his own apartment in Suicide Slum, he repeatedly runs into Trixie and the rest of the Slaughterhouse Six, but Superboy inspires her to try to turn her life around. They didn’t formally date but that was definitely the direction things were starting to head towards before his apartment building blew up and he realized he needed to get away from the city where his presence was painting a target on innocent people, and so they decided to just be friends. (This was also when his solo ended, so possibly if the book hadn’t been ending they may have continued longer)

Batgirl/Cassandra Cain (Superboy #85, Batgirl #39-41) - They first met when Kon had been bugging Tim in Gotham, and had a little adventure together that resulted in Batman being PISSED because he didn’t want Cass interacting with Metas (especially not teenage boy ones that’ll flirt with her) and Kon volunteered to share her punishment so she didn’t have to do it alone. They later meet again shortly after Kon moved in with the Kents while on a cruise (and he’s her first kiss!) and afterwards she goes to Smallville to meet him. She’s actually like the first person outside the Kents we’re shown to know his new civilian name is ‘Conner Kent’. After their little attempt at a date they decide to just stay friends.

Lori Luthor (Various appearances with Kon in Adventure Comics (2009) & Superboy Vol. 5) - When Kon and Lori initially meet there’s definitely some interest and she kisses him, but it happens while he’s still dating Cassie so he makes it clear he’s unavailable. Afterwards he learns who she actually is and realizes ‘oh she’s sorta kinda my cousin on the Luthor side’ so he stops really being interested. She’s still interested because she feels like the cloning doesn’t make them really related, and they talk about it in Superboy Vol. 5 #4 after he and Cassie had broken up, but he still feels too raw from Cassie and too weirded out by the situation to have it go anywhere. Kon helps try to get Lex to cure Lori’s mom (Lex’s sister Lena), and eventually when Lex is an ass in the end he finds another way (Some Wayne money through Tim) to try to help her. Lori figures out Conner is Superboy and along with Simon and Sujan helps him to save Smallville from the Hollow Men.

Ravager/Rose Wilson (Teen Titans Vol. 3 #95-100, kinda some parts of Superboy Vol. 6 if ya squint) - This is another of those ‘they didn’t actually date but there was interest’ situations, in the very end of Teen Titans Vol. 3. A fake version of Rose had kissed Kon which was kinda the catalyst for it, where after that moment he became a bit more protective of her once the real her returned. They had a moment where Kon tried to trust her with something (Kryptonite to take him down if the situation arose) but she saw it more as him thinking she was the one ruthless enough to do it, rather than as a token of trust, and left upset. The reboot happened before this really went anywhere/got resolved though, but interestingly enough she became a bit of a support character in the New 52 version of Kon’s life, likely because of this connection they tried to do before the reboot. They never really dated there either, he just referred to her as cute a few times. New 52 Kon is a very separate person anyways, but it’s worth mentioning.

I might be forgetting a few other minor ones along the way (especially if there’s things that weren’t in his main books), and Kon (especially in the 90′s) was the kind of guy to flirt with pretty much every girl he saw, so bear that in mind. But yeah, I hope this helps! 

[sugarmaplewings-fics]

Hoodie HCs 2 . . . Kinda

Pairings: BNHA boys x reader

Warnings: None, not even cursing  Σ(☉_☉)

Characters: Bakugou, Kirishima, Kaminari

A/N: Ok, let’s have a little chat here.

I want to start out by saying I’m not mad, I’m just a little annoyed.

So this same anon sent the same request to someone else (see their post here) and the other author posted theirs around the day after I finished the prompt. If I hadn’t already written it up, I would have just deleted the ask and moved on, but I was already done so here we are. I’m not sure what went wrong where, but let me just say this: Please don’t send the same request to different authors around the same time. It’s not cool. Again, I don’t know everything about the situation, but it’s just really frustrating to both authors when you do things like this.

Also also, anon didn’t really follow my rules. 1. I don’t write for Shigaraki, and 2. I write for fem or gender neutral reader only (this is gender neutral). My rules are there for a reason, both for my benefit and yours, so please look over them before requesting. At the moment I’m only writing for eight people.

Anyway, mini rant over. I hope you guys enjoy these headcanons!

-Sugar

°˖✧.✧˖° °˖✧.✧˖° °˖✧.✧˖° °˖✧.✧˖°

Bakugou:

Dis boi, istg

He’s such a little pain

But you love him

And he even loves tolerates you 

One evening, he was in your room, poking through your closet

You were presently in the shower, and had sent him up to your room to grab your towel you had forgotten

But let’s just say he got a little . . . sidetracked

You had so many oversized sweatshirts hanging tantalizingly from your rack

You certainly wouldn’t miss just one, would you?

After some brief inner turmoil, Katsuki pulled one down; a simple solid black

He experimentally brought it nearer to his nose, checking to see if his suspicion may be correct

Indeed, it smelled heavenly of you; your detergent, your deodorant, even down to the faintest traces of sweat and shampoo around the collar

He squeezed and balled it in his fists for a moment, debating while he absentmindedly continued his search for your towel

Soon enough, he found your fuzzy rectangular strip of cloth and, now holding two items from your closet, left your room

He made a quick stop at his own room to drop off the hoodie

Once he had cheekily made his initial delivery, he settled back into his room

He pulled your hoodie over his head, enjoying the baggy feel of it around him

Katsuki was liking this more than he cared to admit, but it didn’t matter since you wouldn’t see him with your hoodie anyway, if he had anything to say about it

Now, you did, in fact, notice the disappearance of your hoodie, and initially brushed it off

That had been the first week

Eventually, you began to cultivate your own suspicions, taking notice of how suddenly your boyfriend grew defensive (at least, more so than normal) any time you brought up the black hoodie that had formerly belonged to you

Indeed, it was time to investigate

You invited yourself over for a study session, waiting until Bakugou ducked into his en-dorm bathroom before quickly and quietly getting up

You poked around a bit, scanning for obvious hiding places

Getting back down, you peeked under the bed

Sure enough, there it was

It was then that you heard the bathroom door click and swing open and shut, then Katsuki’s footsteps froze

“WHAT DO YOU THINK YOU’RE DOING?!” he shouted

“Looking for something,” you said offhandedly, reaching under to grab the hoodie

“Y-YOU CAN’T JUST SNOOP AROUND MY ROOM LIKE—”

You pulled the hoodie free, smirking at his guilty reaction. “Now how did this get down there?”

“I-I . . . I don’t know.” For once his voice is small; defeated

“You don’t, now?” You took note of how neatly he had folded the black cloth, undoing it in your hands and holding it up to see. “I’ve been looking for this for a while.”

For once, Bakugou is speechless. He’d been caught, and now all he could do was wait for your reaction and what you would do next

“You know, if you wanted this one, you could have asked,” you said, standing. “It’s not like I have a shortage.”

Katsuki had shoved his hands in his pockets, glowering at the floor in an attempt to avoid your gaze

“Does it still even smell like me?” you pondered, more to yourself since you weren’t expecting an answer. You pressed the collar to your nose and inhaled

You were able to detect a tiny hint of yourself still clinging stubbornly to the fabric, but mostly it was laced with him

A quick image of him sleeping in it flashed in your mind and you blushed, glancing from your boyfriend to the floor

“Well, you can give it back when you want,” you said, folding it up again and laying it on his bed. “If you ever want another one, you can tell me.”

You knew him by now. You know it would have been hard for him to have asked you for something like this. So, for the time being, you decided to go easy and drop the subject

The both of you went back to your studies, but this time, Bakugou was a little more silent and reserved than usual

The following month, you made sure to give him every opportunity you could to allow him to take another hoodie

You’d leave your closet doors open and leave the room for extended periods of time while he was in there, making up lame excuses for your absences

Whenever you came over to his room, you might ‘accidentally’ leave a little something behind for him

Sure enough, things would begin to disappear and reappear seemingly on their own. Even though you knew it was Katsuki, he was surprisingly sneaky about it

Finally one day, you visited him at his house over one of your breaks from school

He answered the door in a t-shirt you immediately recognized as your own, and your heart soared

You knew he did it on purpose, and the smirk he bore at your pleasantly surprised expression only offered further proof

BAKUGOU LOVES STEALING YOUR HOODIES AND YOU CANNOT CHANGE MY MIND. ONCE HE GETS OVER THE INITIAL ‘oh crap, is this weird? Dang it, I like them’ IT’S OVER

Bonus: Every time he gives them back they still smell like him, even though he’s the type to wash them before giving them back

____________

Kirishima:

It all started one particularly cold evening

He was out in a temperature just above freezing in nothing but his regular street clothes

Baby, you hot, but like . . . that’s not enough, please keep yourself warm

N e wahys, after pestering him multiple times asking if he was at all cold, he finally admitted to having a bit of a chill

“Take my jacket.”

“But I’m being manly—”

“Take it.”

“I shouldn’t be taking it from you. Really, it’s my fault so you shouldn’t have to suffer—”

“It’s manly to take care of yourself. And also to accept gifts when you need them. You’re wearing my jacket.”

After a bit of coaxing, he finally pulls it on

*cue his universe falling into place*

He just can’t get over how warm and comfortable and soft it is, and every moment he sees it around him, he’s reminded of you

He goes from one extreme to the other, and now he doesn’t want to take it off

“So are you going to give that back to me or—?”

“Actually, can I keep it for a bit longer?”

“Sure.”

Under the initial circumstances, it makes him a little blushy

But like, this is now his everything???

It’s like you’re always there to give him a little hug, and it even smells like you. He sleeps in it every night for nearly two weeks

But then it starts to lose your scent, and his mind begins to wonder what else you might have in your closet

He goes to your room and sheepishly broaches the topic, giving back the original jacket and asking if he could have another

You smile at how flustered he is, and allow him full access to your extensive collection

Bby boi is so pumped to be able to wear your shirts and sweaters, and always tries to return the favor if he can

I headcanon that he has a pretty strong personal scent, so it’s really nice to wear his clothes, or even just re-wearing your own clothes once he gives them back

He gets extra cuddly and fluffy whenever he wears something of yours as well, so REAP YOUR BENEFITS WHERE YOU CAN

____________

Kaminari:

He’s the most open with it, honestly

Seriously, having an s/o who is taller than him makes his heart do the BIG doki doki

He thinks you’re so cute! And so much fun to hug!! Yes please, sign him up

He hadn’t really thought too much about taking your hoodies or jackets, but one night, he had taken yours from you to go hang it up. Holding it up to his, it dawned upon him that they were the same size

Next thing he knew, he was raiding your closet in secret. You’d left your room to go grab some snacks for your gaming night and Denki had decided that that was the perfect time for him to strike

He wasn’t overly concerned with getting caught, but he enjoyed entertaining the idea of you finding one of your t-shirts stolen by none other than himself

He truly had hit gold, dating someone like you. Upon opening and rooting through your closet, he discovered even more clothing articles that would certainly fit him; hoodies, jumpers, t-shirts . . . .

It was almost overwhelming, to be honest. How could he possibly pick just one?

You came back into your room a few minutes later, catching him in the act of eyeing a small pile of your own clothes

You watched him silently from your door for a minute, eyes flicking from your closet to your boyfriend, who had held up an old oversized hoodie to his chest

The dots were easily connected in your head, and you smirked

“Finding something you like?” you asked, making him jump and turn around to face you. You could almost have sworn to have seen a little crackle of electricity run down his arm from his own surprise

“(Y/N)! Yeah, um, I noticed the other day that we were the same size, so I was curious about . . . what you had . . . .”

He watches your reaction, relieved to see you smirk and walk over to him

“Try that one on,” you say, referring to the hoodie

He grins back, sliding it over his head as you watched

It was so comfortable, and warm too. You had good taste

The hoodie smelled like you and everything. Denki allowed himself to relish for a moment the feeling of something of yours softly encasing him so

Yep, there was no way he was taking it off

You let him keep it, butterflies making their flighty rounds in your belly every time you glanced over at him

He looked cute in it, and the fact that he was wearing something of yours further stirred a feeling in you that he was truly yours to love

Definitely makes a habit of taking your clothing from time to time—anything he can get his hands on is his, sometimes experimenting with your differing style from his

Very very soft, 10/10 cuddle and spoon your smol bf

°˖✧.✧˖° °˖✧.✧˖° °˖✧.✧˖° °˖✧.✧˖°

Taglist: @basicaegyo​ @iiminibattlehero​ @pyrofanatic​​ @sokkasangel​ @xoxopam4​​

[got-svt]

the road not taken

summary: you live in la, he lives in seoul. you don’t think it’s ever going to work out, but he believes otherwise. especially when every year on the holidays, both of you rediscover that your hearts are still in chicago. aka the conversations that had you rethinking your relationship.   pairing: johnny suh x reader genre: angst, friends with benefits (but only on the holidays lmao — implied sex, so no actual smut), some fluff at the end kinda word count: 2637

part of my tales from the lakes series inspired by taylor swift’s ‘tis the damn season

___

Truth be told, despite the fact that you were neighbors and your parents were quite close with his, you didn’t know much about Johnny in the years you spent growing up in the suburbs of Chicago. Sure, you caught glimpses of him from your bedroom practicing whatever song or dance routine he felt like he needed to improve on. More often than not, you’d find yourself laughing as he accidentally bumped into a shelf or slip and fall over on the floor. And he would be lying if he said he hadn’t taken a peek out his window to watch you running lines, a script in you hand as you paced around the room, a smile creeping on his face as he watches you shake your head every time you forget a line. In a way, you both formed some sort of a relationship as you silently cheered the other on in whatever endeavor you put your minds to.

He wanted you to succeed just as much as you wanted him to succeed. 

But when he moved to Korea to pursue a career as an idol, and you to LA for acting, there were little to no opportunities to actually begin a proper conversation. 

It wasn’t until in December of 2017, when both of your parents decided to have a joint Christmas dinner in celebration of both their children coming home for the holidays for the first time in years. They thought it was time for you two to meet, having settled in your respective career paths. Maybe they also wanted to see how the two of you would get along, but they would never admit it even if you ask. 

“I don’t think we’ve ever formally met.” He told you once he entered your parents’ house and offering a hand for you to shake, “I’m Johnny.”

“Yn.” You replied, taking his hand in yours, “And, trust me, I know exactly who you are.”

He raised an eyebrow at your statement as he let go of your hand, you shivered at the immediate loss of contact, your hand immediately growing colder at the absence of his. 

“NCT?” You asked tentatively, testing the waters of what could possibly be an exciting new friendship.  

“Ah yeah,” he sheepishly smiled, reaching a hand to scratch the back of his neck, “I guess there’s no use in pretending I don’t know who you are either.”

It was now your turn to raise an eyebrow at him, crossing your arms in front of your chest, “Hmmm?”

“I’ve seen pretty much every show you’ve ever been on.” Johnny clarified, but his tone suggested a bit of embarrassment on his part, “The other members don’t believe me when I tell them I practically grew up next to you.”

“I guess I could say the same.” You replied with a shrug, but you offered him a reassuring smile “Nobody really believes me when I tell them a Kpop star used to be my neighbor.” 

“Perhaps we need better friends then.” He joked, but your gaze was fixated on the way the curve of his lips moved with each word that left his mouth. Johnny had always been attractive, whether it be through your bedroom window or your computer screen. But now here he stood, in front of you, bare faced in black jeans and a gray sweatshirt and somehow he had never looked more alluring. 

Johnny noticed you watching him, but he never called you out on it. Maybe because he was too busy thinking about how soft your hand was when he shook it, imagining how it must feel running over his skin. Or how your hair seemed fall perfectly, framing your face in a way that was enticing him for reasons he couldn’t exactly figure out. 

“Care for a drink?” You asked, breaking the brief period of tense silence that had fallen between the two of you, leading him to the makeshift bar your parents had near the kitchen. 

He smirked, placing his hands inside the pockets of his jeans, “I thought you’d never ask.”

And maybe it was because of both of your parents deciding to turn in early and the three bottles of wine that was shared between the two of you that had you pinned against the wall of your childhood bedroom, quietly giggling into his lips as he went in for another kiss. He drunkenly mumbled words that you couldn’t quite understand, but he was telling you to keep quiet. You knew you should have stopped him the second planted his lips onto yours, and he knew he should’ve pulled away when you started taking off his shirt. Maybe then you wouldn’t have woken uncomfortably cuddled up on your twin-sized bed and sneaking him out of the house before your parents could wake up. 

But both of you enjoyed the way your bodies seemed to be made just for the other too much to stop, and thus, a tradition of sorts was formed. 

2018. 

One particular night the following year had you driving around the city, Johnny had one hand on the steering wheel while the other held yours, his thumb rubbing comforting circles on the back of your hand. But it did everything but comfort you or himself. Since the previous year, you and Johnny grew much closer than either have you had anticipated. You thought it would all end after that first night or maybe when you flew back to LA, and him back to Seoul. But it had been seemingly impossible to move away from whatever relationship that began to form, as both of you sacrificed nights of well warranted sleep to call or text the other, soon enough both of you were in too deep to easily get out. 

“Penny for your thoughts?” You asked, taking note of how the streetlights perfectly illuminated his face. He had been unusually quiet and you were growing tired of the Christmas songs that had been blasting on every radio station for the past few hours. 

“It’s nothing.” He sighed as he turned to an unfamiliar street, you knew better than to believe that it was truly nothing. But you also knew him well enough to not to push it. 

“Where are we going then?”

Johnny replied with a shrug, continuing down the foreign path, he knew neither of you had been to this particular part of town but at that point he’d do anything to even remotely extend the time you spent together. 

“And if we get lost?” You asked, your voice almost challenging him to turn back, but he didn’t give in. 

“Then we get lost.” He replied without missing a single beat, the corners of his mouth twitching upwards to form a smile, “You know, the road not taken tend to be the most exciting.”

“Oh wow,” You let out a laugh, and Johnny feels his heart skip the slightest of beats, “and where did that immensely profound quote come from?”

“My brilliant mind.” He grinned, briefly turning to face you. 

Johnny wished he had a camera to capture the absolute spectacle that was you. How you stared out the window, at the unfamiliar road, eyes alive with a certain curiosity. Your finger drawing little stars on the car window, pouting when it doesn’t quite look the way you wanted it to. It was at that moment he knew, you were all he wanted. 

“What are we?” He asked, causing you to jump a little in your seat, Johnny had never brought up the nature of your relationship before. 

“Friends?” You said, at an attempt to offer him an answer, but even you sounded unsure at your response which made Johnny grow hopeful. 

“Yn, friends don’t kiss.” Johnny responded, grateful that he had to keep his eyes on the road. He didn’t need you seeing right through his pretend confidence, “They sure as hell don’t sleep together”

“Sure, they do.” You joked in an attempt to lighten the mood, maybe even change the topic to something—anything— else, “I do it all the time.”

“Well, acting is different.” He let out a scoff, annoyed at the thought of you not taking the conversation seriously,  “You know what I meant.”

“I like where we are now. It’s easy.” You explained, wanting to make him understand where you were coming from, “Relationships are messy, given the industries we are in. There’s no pressure with this. With you and me.”

“But what if I wanted something more—”

“It’s never going to work.” You cut him off before he could even make his case, before he could ask you to be his. 

“Now, why do you say that?” There was a slight tremble in his voice, and you had never heard him sound so nervous, scared even. The feeling of guilt slowly crept up your system, but you shook it away before it even had the chance to fully settle in. 

“Time, distance, to begin with. Not to mention both of our very busy careers.” 

“Then I guess this is good enough for me.”

For now, he added in his head, determined to make you see otherwise. 

You smiled at him, glad to have the conversation over with and thinking that this would be the last time you’ll ever speak about it. 

2019.

Johnny wanted to prove you wrong, show you that both of you could in fact make it work. You just needed to try. Which came with more calls and texts than normal as you got to know each other more than you already did, flowers sent to you on your birthday, several little gifts every now and then, and even slowly introducing you to the other members of NCT. His efforts did not go unnoticed, but it definitely left you more confused. 

When both of you went home for the holidays that particular year, you knew something had changed. Johnny was more reserved than usual, and you would usually have to be the one to initiate sleeping together. 

“Don’t you ever get tired of doing this?” He asked, turning to face you, as you lied side-by-side on his childhood bed. 

“Doing what?” You asked, feigning confusion, preparing yourself for the inevitable conversation you had been dreading for the past few months.

“Don’t pretend like you don’t know what I’m talking about.” His voice was calm, but it chilled you to the core. 

“What do you want me to say, Johnny?” You snapped, the tone in your voice letting him know how exasperated you were as you shut your eyes, “That I like you? That I want to be with you?”

“Don’t you?”

You let out a sigh, still keeping your eyes shut. You didn’t want to look at him, he’d know if you were lying. You didn’t know if you had it in you to lie. Instead, you focused on the sound of his breathing, steady and almost reassuring. You imagined the rise and fall of his bare chest, covered by the thick white blanket. 

Johnny knew to drop the subject when you didn’t even make an attempt to answer his question, he probably didn’t want to know the answer anyways. But Johnny knew he loved you, and part of him knew you loved him back. If you didn’t, you wouldn’t have let this little charade go on for as long as it did. You just needed time. And he was more than willing to give it to you. 

“A year.”

Your eyes opened at his words, your head turned to face him,  “What?”

“I’m giving you a year.”

You didn’t have to ask again. You knew exactly what he meant, what he wanted. He wanted an answer. 

“Is this an ultimatum?”

He takes your hands in his, “It’s me letting you know that I’m serious about wanting to be with you.”

“Johnny—”

He kisses the side of your head before you could even finish your sentence, an action so tender that it caused you to forget every single coherent thought of protest. 

“Hey, you don’t have to answer me now. Just think about it. Please?”

“I will.” 

And with those two words, you stood and gathered your clothes off the floor and put them back on. He gave you a small nod as you turned to leave his room, going back into the freezing cold and leaving the warmest bed you had ever known. 

2020.

Neither of you could come home to Chicago that year. 

And so you both had to settle for a reunion through a screen. You wished that circumstances were different, but at the same time you were grateful that you didn’t have to give him an answer in person. Mainly because you didn’t have one. 

When his face appeared on your computer screen, you couldn’t help the ache that crept up in your chest at the sight of him. 

“Hey, yn.” He greeted with a smile.

You missed him.

After the exchange of pleasantries and a bit of small talk on both ends, Johnny wasted no time in getting to the purpose of your call, “I believe you owe me something.” 

“Johnny—“

“Before you say anything, I want you to know that for me, it’s always been you. After all this time, even with all the distance between us.”

Johnny moved his face closer to the camera, as if that would somehow help his point come across more genuinely. You had to stop your hand from reaching out to try and wipe the single tear that fell on his cheek.

“This is the last time I’m going to ask.” He said, trying to keep his voice from faltering too much, “After this, I won’t try to push it anymore. But I want you to tell me the truth. Don’t you wish—“

“It’s not going to work.”

“We haven’t even tried, Yn.” It almost sounded like he was pleading, begging you to give him and the two of you a chance. He wasn’t there with you in person, but he didn’t have to be for you to feel the sincerity in his words.

“I’m scared.” You whispered, finally choosing to truly let him in for the very first time since you met, “What if it doesn’t work out? I want you in my life. I don’t want to lose you.”

“You’re not going to.”

Johnny said it with such conviction, such confidence, that you felt like you had no choice but to believe him. Your eyes studied his face, looking for any sign of wariness or doubt. Only to find none. You could only find hopefulness, and maybe even love. With one final review of his features, you had made your decision. 

“Okay.”

“Okay, what?” He asked, just to make sure, but he made no attempt in holding back the grin that slowly spread across his face. The sight of which made your heart flutter. 

“We’ll try. I want to be with you.”

You let out a breath that you didn’t you had been holding as the final word left your lips. It felt like a weight had been lifted off your shoulders, the floodgates in your eyes releasing the tears it had been holding onto for months now. Nervousness still coursed through your veins, but it was mixed with a different kind of emotion: excitement. 

“You’re smiling, but you’re also crying. I’m not sure if I should be concerned.” Johnny joked, the crinkles in eyes becoming much more apparent as he stared at your face through the screen. 

“I’m still scared,” You confessed, “but I’m excited.”

Johnny couldn’t help but chuckle at your confession, waiting for you to wipe your tears away before he continued speaking, 

“Well, Yn, didn’t I tell you the road not taken would be the most exciting? Trust me, it’s looking really good now.”

[feen-feet]

Uniform

This is a fanfic based on Sleepless Domain by Mary Cagle. Another, lighter Benzine fic. The brainworms are real.

------

The counsellor slipped the documents into a fancy looking leather binder and passed it to Benzine. “Right, so, in there you’ve got copies of our behaviour policies, contact information for all the Future’s Promise department heads and a rundown of the extra-curricular activities and services we offer our students. There’s also a class list and timetable for the remainder of this term. You’ve been assigned those based on your grades from Easttown High. Be sure to read through everything before you start.”

Benzine felt the weight of the binder. Man, this thing was thick. When she’d started at Easttown she got two photocopies and a pamphlet. Steffi wasn’t kidding about this place.

The counsellor stood up, extending her hand. Benzine and her mom followed suit. “With that, welcome to Future’s Promise, Miss Contractor. Please don’t hesitate to come see me if you have any questions.”

Benzine took her hand. “Ah, thanks, I will.”

“Good. One last thing, Mrs. Contractor.” The counsellor handed Benzine’s mom a small form. “Take Benzine here to the front office and give them this. They’ll direct you to the school shop where she can pick up her textbooks and uniform.”

Urk. Benzine almost choked. Right. Uniforms. Those things fancy schools had.

As they headed for the office, a period ended. The quiet, dignified corridors became clattering chaos before the bell finished ringing. Students whizzed around noisily as Benzine, the only one not in uniform, tried to disappear into her hoodie.

The uniforms were nice, and she was surprised to see some variation in how the students wore them. But she was focussed on one aspect that was, well, uniform across every student she could see.

They all wore skirts.

---- ----

She sat on the edge of her bed, studying the pleats of her new skirt. Hrmmm. It felt off.

Her magical girl outfit had a skirt, sure, but that was different. That was a costume. The whole getup was pleasingly extra, she could run with that easily enough. This was a lot more... everyday.

She crossed her legs, glaring gently at them. They weren't the entire problem, but she could guess they were a contributing factor to her unease.

Those were some hairy-ass legs.

----

Rolling the cheap plastic razor around in her fingers. Legs in the bath, covered in foam. Probably too much foam. Kinda cold.

Come on, you've done this before. On your face, a few times. With an electric razor.

Benzine sighed. She'd been briefed on the technique via an exceedingly awkward phone call with Techno (the awkwardness was entirely on Benzine's side.) Use foam, start at the bottom, short strokes, rinse the blade, repeat. Easy.

She put the razor to skin and, gingerly, drew the blade up. Shhrrrk.

Huh. That wasn't so bad. Rinse, next patch. Shhrrrk. Rinse, shhrrrk. Rinse, shhrrrk.

She scoffed, amused at herself. What had she been so worried about? Just gotta get around that knobby bit on her ankle and she can move up-

Shhk.

Ah. That... that's at least an inch of skin stuck in the blade there.

So fixated on that image, she didn't notice the soapy foam sliding down towards the cut on her ankle.

A very silent scream.

--------

The socks hid the bandaids well enough. She'd managed to avoid cutting the rest of her legs up once she started treating the process with the seriousness it deserved.

She was in uniform, riding to her new school on an unfamiliar tram. She smiled. It felt nice. She had to admit, her legs felt nice too. She rubbed them together a little. So damn smooth.

--------

So damn smooth. For like, half a day.

The first day had been overwhelming enough; the work was harder, the building was unfamiliar, there was some sort of clerical stuff up with her locker. The only relief had been the couple of classes she shared with Techno.

But by the afternoon, the greatest irritant, by far, was the stubble. She'd never felt more annoyed with a part of her body in her life. Every time her legs touched, they scratched. After they scratched, they itched. She sat through an entire calculus class fighting the urge to tear her legs apart with her fingernails, almost doing just that when she ducked into the bathroom between periods for some itch-relieving privacy.

She rode the tram home, scowling, her blazer draped over her lap to hide the glaring red of her legs. Clearly, another solution was needed.

--------

It'd been a few weeks. In her bedroom, where all deep thought was conducted, chin resting on hand resting on knee, Benzine considered her experiments.

Leggings. Actually liked the way they looked with the skirt, but yeesh they were stuffy. Plus, if anything they only made the stubble problem worse.

Stockings. Same stubble issues, and she hated the way they gripped her legs.

Shaving. The stubble wasn't quite as bad the more she'd been shaving them, but repeating the process every other day was annoying.

She sighed. Like she'd known from the start, though, her legs weren't the entire issue. The skirt was nice enough. Irritants aside, wearing it to Future's Promise made her feel like any other magical girl at the school. But it still didn't feel like... her.

She stared at her open wardrobe with the whistfullness of an old woman seeing a friend from her youth. In the intervening weeks, she'd finally gotten around to reading everything in that leather binder. One of the documents was a complete inventory of items available in the Future's Promise shop.

Turned out she had options.

--------

Techno strolled the corridors, heading for Benzine's locker. She could just meet her in class, but she'd made a point of checking in on her every morning since she'd started, figuring Benzine would appreciate a friendly face to start the day.

Rounding the corner, she immediately noted a change. There was Benzine, pulling textbooks out of her locker, in her dark purple blazer, lilac cravat, and dark purple pants.

Benzine spotted Techno as she closed her locker. "Oh, uh, hey Techno!" She seemed a little on edge. Techno nodded in greeting, strolling over. "Continuing your uniform experiments, I see."

Benzine rubbed the back of her head, looking away. "Uh, yeah. I tried to make the skirt work, but I just..." Her voice shrank. "...I like pants."

Techno stifled a giggle, seeing how red Benzine's face was. "Who doesn't like pants? I usualy wear them during the winter terms."

Benzine brighened a little. "Really? You don't think they look... kinda off, or weird?"

Techno couldn't hold the giggle back this time. "Why would pants look weird?"

She could see some tension slip out of Benzine's shoulders. "Yeah... yeah, you're right. Silly of me."

"HEY BLONDIE!" Benzine jerked, then span towards the voice. An older student with a bright red undercut was jogging down the corridor towards them. Wearing pants.

"PANTS SQUAD! UP TOP!"

Benzine, shocked, barely had time to get her hand up before it was enthusiastically whapped by the senior, who jogged on around the corner.

[youknow-igetit]

i’ve always had the headcanon that neil learns how to pole dance and dan helps teach him and i saw someone else post something similar to it (iconic of them, really) and it made me want to elaborate on my hc

some days, neil wakes up and he can’t stand looking in the mirror

he look in the mirror and despite the scars on his face and hands and the vibrant orange hoodie and the chipped nail polish on his hands, all he sees is his father’s eyes and hair and cold smile

so he usually finds himself at the gym building, blasting music in his ears and facing away from the wall of mirrors as he purposefully overworks himself so he’s too exhausted to care about the cold smile that he knows well

either that or he’s in the basement, hitting a punching bag with taped knuckles and pretending that the canvas is his father’s face, lola’s, romero’s, sometimes even his mother’s

one morning he wakes up at four with the phantom pains of hundreds of knives wracking his body

he can’t go back to sleep, so he heads to the gym and picks the lock to the basement

he’s so caught up in his own head that he walks right past the room full of punching bags and opens the door next to it

despite it being in the basement, the room has the same high ceilings as the upper floors, maybe twenty or twenty five feet

there’s no equipment that neil can see in the dark room, nothing except for the mats covering the floor and four vertical poles bolted to the floor and ceiling

he’s confused at first but then... oh

he’d obviously heard of pole dancing as a sport, he remembered seeing the words on the gym directory

but actually seeing the poles, he was kind of intrigued

but he backed out and went into the right room and ran himself down, and despite heaving on the floor, he felt like he could finally breathe

he was exhausted by the time the exy team started trickling into the main gym to do their workouts, but he honestly didn’t care about the stern talking-to kevin was attempting to administer

over the next week, inexplicably, neil’s mind kept going back to the room with the poles. he found himself watching pole dancing competition videos and tutorials and reading articles on different products that help to stay on the pole

on another one of Those Days, he finds himself purposefully breezing right past the boxing room and opening the door to the pole dancing room

he turns on the light, which is still dim, and walks nervously up to the pole in the far right corner

he’s bad at first. not as bad as he thought he’d be, but still bad. youtube isnt exactly the best coach

but he comes back the next day. and the next. and it eventually becomes a regular thing as he becomes better at it. sometimes, when his school workload isn’t heavy, he spends his free periods between classes practicing.

he never sees anyone else there, no matter what time, and he likes it that way. he gets more confident in himself, eventually ending up stripping down to just his briefs as he learns new moves

he doesn’t tell anyone about it. it’s not that he’s ashamed, but the idea of the ex-mafia kid exy player spending his free time pole dancing? it was a little embarrassing

like andrew knows in general where he is at those times but he doesn’t know/care what neil’s doing there. he guesses its just more things to do with exy

and kevin is suspicious but when is he not

but all in all no one finds out

until

one day it’s like three pm and he had the most annoying argument with the TA and he’s still pissed as he descends the stairs to the basement of the gym, just wanting to dance and blow off some steam

he bursts through the door and stops abruptly as the person whirls around

“dan?”

“neil?”

they both kind of just stand there for a moment before neil’s like “sorry, i was--uh, the boxing room is right next to this one and--”

“you were planning on boxing?”

“uh huh”

“in skinny jeans?” dan raised an unimpressed eyebrow

neil glanced down. he was wearing skinny jeans. “um.”

neil shifts nervously. “what are you doing here? nobody ever goes in here.”

“I was just--” dan pauses. “wait, this is where you’re going when you disappear?”

neil rubs the back of his neck. “kinda, yeah”

“kinda or definitely”

so neil tells her everything, about how he’s been going there for months and teaching himself how to dance and whatnot

dan is highkey impressed and asks him if he wants her to teach him anything

“what?”

“I used to be a stripper, neil.”

“oh. right.”

“no, you’re okay. it’s just... i kind of missed it. not the stripper part, but during the day, when the club was closed and my sisters were teaching me. it didn’t feel like it was for anyone. it was for me....it was liberating.”

neil nods. “i get that”

so dan ends up joining in on his practices more often than not

at first neil’s kinda uncomfortable being so physically exposed around someone that wasn’t andrew

but he finds a weird comfort with dan, both of them in just their undergarments swinging around on poles in a big empty room with music playing out of one of their phones

dan ends up teaching neil a bunch of moves she knows, like how to bend over upside-down and spin with just thighs

“and if you twist like this, it shows off your ass”

they also end up talking a lot, about random things, but dan also tells him a lot about her stage sisters and what her high school life was like and in turn neil ends up talking a bit about his life on the run

they also end up talking a lot about their relationships, like how dan learns that andrew likes to snuggle (dan is astounded) and neil learns that matt sleeps with his socks on (neil is apalled)

some of the foxes notice that dan has joined in with neil’s disappearances and she tells them that she’s teaching him “how to be a captain for you assholes. it’s hard fucking work, i’m giving him seminars about you little shits”

but one day matt comes up to neil during practice and he’s like “hey neil can i talk to you”

and neil’s like “you’re talking to me now”

“no i mean like later”

neil’s like ?? but he agrees

after practice everyone leaves the locker room except for matt

he nervously sits down on the bench so once neil’s done he hesitantly sits next to him

“what’s up?”

matt’s acting shifty and weird and isn’t look at neil’s face

“so um, i need you to be honest with me, okay? and i know you wouldn’t do this, but i’ve been having doubts and i just--” matt sighs. “is dan cheating on me with you?”

neil is... absolutely pissed

“what the fuck?!”

“i mean, like, you guys have been disappearing off on your own and then you come back sweaty and flushed--”

“we work out together”

“but she’s always smiling and content after!”

“i literally have a partner”

“that doesn’t stop a lot of people, neil”

“don’t you remember that i don’t swing? dan’s like my sister, matt” neil is surprised when he says it and finds that he’s being truthful. “dan loves you. she’d never hurt you like that. stop selling yourself short.”

matt nods and neil leaves

the next time dan and neil practice together, the next day, dan asks him about matt and neil tells her everything

“i think he’s just paranoid that you’re leaving at the end of the year” neil spins around and hooks his ankles around the pole

“yeah... i’ll talk to him” dan sighs and wraps an arm around the pole and hoists herself up a few inches

“if you’re fine with it, he can come to our next practice”

“you’re sure?” a few weeks ago, neil had told dan how insecure he was about his scars and they both enjoyed the privacy they had at the practice room

“yeah. it’s just matt”

they twirl around for a while, soft music playing from dan’s phone, the artist singing something about being sorry that she fell in love with someone while they were in a hotel room

“what about your boy?” dan asks

“what about him?”

“does he ever doubt you?”

neil shrugs, as well as he can while upside down “we trust each other”

dan thinks for a minute. “are you going to show andrew too?” dan motions to the room with her foot. “i’m fine with it if you are”

so later that day, back at the dorm, neil turns in his bean bag and asks andrew if he wants to come to his and dan’s next practice

andrew replies with a “not particularly”

“don’t you want to see what we do?”

“not really. you don’t ask me to watch renee and i spar.”

“yeah but that’s cause it your guys’ thing. also, dan and i definitely don’t spar”

“it’s still your thing.”

“i wouldn’t ask you to come if i didn’t want you to”

andrew looked at him before saying “you’re insufferable.” neil knew that meant he’d be there

so the next day finds dan and neil leading matt and andrew down their familiar basement path

andrew shows no reaction to the poles except for a quirk in his left eyebrow (neil knows he’s very surprised)

matt, on the other hand, says “this is what you guys have been doing?”

neil nods and takes his shirt and pants off, which leads to another shocked sound out of matt and another raised eyebrow from andrew. (that’s both raised eyebrows. neil’s never done that. he takes it as an achievement. andrew’s eyes tell him not to read too much into it. neil smirks)

andrew leans up against one of the untouched poles as neil talks to matt about liquid chalk as dan takes her own clothes off

matt sits down on the edge of a mat as they start practicing. after a few minutes neil almost forgets that there are two more people in the room than usual, the only giveaway being andrew’s sharp eyes never leaving him and matt’s amazed “ooh”s and “ahh”s

after the alarm on dan’s phone beeped to tell them that their hour and a half were up, matt stood up as the two stepped away from their poles

neil started pulling on his clothes as matt went “I--um--that’s--that was--”

neil picks up his bag and starts walking toward the door, knowing that andrew’s following

“don’t fuck near my pole” he calls, and he can hear dan laugh as he shuts the door

andrew is silent all the way to the dorm

later on the roof, he asks “why?”

neil sighs. “it makes my mind quiet. suspended like that, fifteen feet in the air, the only thing that’s keeping me from falling is me. it’s not like exy, where I have to rely on my teammates. It’s... it’s finding trust in my body.” he looks down at him scarred hands, at the one interlaced with andrew’s. “also my father would never pole dance. neither would my mom. god, she’d be so pissed.”

neil smiles

“what do you think about it?” neil asked as andrew took another drag on his cigarette

“it doesn’t matter what i think”

“it matters to me.”

“I hate you.”

“mmhm. don’t i know it.”

they were quiet as they watched the sun slowly dip over the horizon

“you’re more flexible than i thought”

“what’s that supposed to mean”

“it means i liked it. you are as confident at pole dancing as you are at playing exy.”

“are you telling me that you like when i play exy?”

“shut up. yes or no?” he flicks aside his cigarette at neil’s yes

a few days later, matt apologizes to neil for his assumptions. he ends up convincing neil and dan into entering a pole dancing competition that takes place a few weeks after the championship game

they end up winning third place

(the competition was recorded and put on youtube. neil’s proud. he catches andrew watching the video more than once)

(when kevin finds out about it he practically combusts and tells neil how bad it is for his exy career and what will pro teams think blah blah blah neil doesn’t care)

after dan graduates, neil and her keep up their practices through facetime

the next year they’re able to win first place

[cyn-00]

Moreid one shot, 22 - "strings"

Another one inspired by season 5, episode 10 "The slave of duty", though with an entirely different focus compared to my other fic based on that same episode (which btw was my FIRST can u believe that)

I'm gonna remind you of a couple things that are important to understand this work (the plot of the episode/case aren't tbh): this is that period in the show where Morgan is taking Hotch's place in leading the team; plus Reid's been recently shot in the knee so he has his cane and everything. The first dialogue is word by word reported from the show and then I go from there ;)

@upsetti0spaghettiii and @rollcreditsyall asked me to tag 'em <3 hope u like it

Read it on AO3

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

"We need fresh eyes..." Rossi mumbled, more as if telling himself than the rest of the team.

Morgan acknowledged the older man's hint and sighed deeply, sinking further in his swivel chair. "A'ight, listen up,"

He continued once everyone's eyes darted up to him almost as quickly as they'd dart up to Hotch - which always lit Spencer up with pride, somehow.

"I want everybody to go back to the hotel and try to get some rest. We're gonna have to pick this up again in the morning."

Prentiss poorly contained a taken aback expression. "Wha- we're giving up?"

Reid was this close to piercing her skull with a laser-glare, because Morgan was RIGHT - how could she not see that they were getting nowhere? But then again: would've looked like he was playing the part of the blindly supportive boyfriend. Which, he never did.

"No." Morgan shot his head up to glance at her; albeit with anything but malice in his eyes. "We're gonna take a break. We have to give the profile at morning roll and none of us has slept since the funeral."

Realization; painted on Emily's features. Now do you see? Reid wanted to ask - he didn't, of course.

"Once Garcia can get us a paper trail, then we can expand our canvas. 'Till then there's really not a lot we can do." Morgan concluded, and silence fell in the room like a heavy blanket, smothering whatever other retort his teammates may raise.

-

Reid waited for the others to exit the room before standing up and making his way around the desk, straining against the searing pang that shot up from his healing knee at the motion.

He settled behind Morgan's chair and let his free arm loosely encircle him from behind, resting his palm on the man's broad, tense chest.

After unnecessarily checking once again that there weren't any nosy officers peeking from outside, he carefully bent down to reach Derek's temple and place a lingering kiss there.

"You did the right thing." he murmured, and immediately felt the other man releasing a breath at his words.

"I know." Derek responded shortly, finally moving from that concerningly petrified position to place his palm over Spencer's hand, pressing more firmly to discourage him from breaking contact.

Spencer allowed his tired eyes to flutter close for a few seconds as he rested his cheek on his boyfriend's head, relying on his trusted cane not to let him fall headlong on the moquette - "who's the idiot that decided putting moquette in a police station conference room was a good idea?", he recalled the comment Derek had whispered to his ear a few hours before, and he recalled thinking that only someone as obsessed with everything furniture-wise as Derek Morgan could notice and care about such a thing as a police station flooring. "Pfft... good luck with washing that if someone spills coffee".

The thought awakened him before it could bring a stupid, unbidden smile to his lips.

Washing. Soap, warm water, shampoo... he needed a well deserved-

"Shower." Derek's voice and the noise of lips briefly smacking on his palm resonated in the genius' half-asleep ears. "Need a shower."

Spencer smiled now. "Me too."

"I know. Could hear you thinkin' about it." Derek left another kiss on Spencer's wrist before gripping on the armrests to stand up, needing him to lift his warm cheek seemingly melting on the top of his head to do so.

"C'mon," he encouraged, turning around to finally take a look at the man's sleepy face.

"Gotta help Goldilocks here shampoo up." he grinned warmly, tilting his head.

Spencer only snorted, because with that damn smile what the hell could he say to the man.

-

Reid sighed deeply as he slumped onto the toilet lid, resting his cane against the tiled wall of the bathroom.

He took off his jacket and pulled his sweater vest over his head, and the second he began maneuvering with his tie, a pair of hands landed over his.

He glanced up slightly annoyed, but gave in to let those hands do the work nonetheless.

"It's the pants I struggle with, not the upper part of my body." he specified for the millionth time - the millionth time he'd found Derek helping him get out of his tie and shirt even though he could do that by himself just fine.

Morgan arched a brow and scoffed, keeping his gaze leveled with the collar of the other man's button-up. "What's in it for me if I don't at least get to undress my boy, uh?"

Spencer contained a smile, ducking his head to look at Derek's hands proceeding to undo the buttons once he'd slid the tie away.

"Not exactly the type of undressing you'd wished for, I'm guessing..." he mumbled sheepishly after a couple seconds.

Derek's eyebrows furrowed now. He said more with those eyebrows of his than he did with his words.

"Any type of undressing you is the type of undressing I wish for..." he trailed off, and Spencer noticed his shirt had magically slid off of his shoulders and was being untucked from his slacks.

Derek's smile grew as his pupils traced from the skinny man's hips up to his chest and laced with his eyes at last.

"It's that I enjoy the view regardless, pretty boy." he added winking, before placing a kiss right over the man's heart.

Spencer didn't say anything. His usual "whatever you say" or the like would only supply him with Derek's eye-roll and another cascade of cheesy praising followed by Spencer's impulse to kiss him and then a few other things which he didn't have the physical strength to engage in, in that moment.

So he settled for thinking those things, lost in his own head while his eyes followed each one of Derek's careful motions that only resulted in layers and layers of clothing peeling off of his body, unable to pinpoint when exactly he had propped up to let the man pull his pants down to his ankles.

The only thing he managed to feel, right after the piercing cold ceramic under his thighs once his slacks were no longer cladding them, was the noise of the brace straps and the sensation of it freeing his leg and then-

"Ouch- Waitwaitwait, Der- wait" he pleaded through gritted teeth, as a twinge of pain awakened him from his pleasant reverie.

"I'm sorry baby, I know this part always hurts like hell" Derek said, and they both knew the 'part' he was referring to was the one where Spencer had to stretch his leg, numb and strained from having it caged in that hellish plastic brace for hours straight.

Spencer nodded and let his boyfriend do the rest - the first couple times he had tried to protest and get through everything on his own, feeling nothing short of a burden and decidedly embarrassed. Now, though, he knew there was no point in arguing, not simply because arguing with Derek when it came to taking care of Spencer was pointless to say the very least; but mostly because Derek was inexplicably good at taking care of him. Doctor Reid could surely brag about his PhDs, but Derek seemed to own every medical training in the world when he had to care for Spencer's pain.

-

The other man rose to his feet for a few seconds, taking the forgotten plastic stool in the corner of the room and placing it in the shower, before starting the water to get it as warm as Spencer liked it. Which meant, 3rd-degree-burn warm.

He returned to kneel in front of the naked genius in his briefs and mismatched socks only, smiling fondly at the sight.

He gently grabbed Spencer's ankles to slip off his socks - it made his toes curl and Derek adored it - and wrapped his strong arms around his boyfriend's skinny torso to pull him up to his bare feet.

Spencer only slightly hissed and grasped onto Derek's shoulders like his life depended on it - which, it kinda did, seeing how the worryingly sharp edge of the marble bathroom counter seemed to be waiting just for the man to wobble under the weight of his recently wounded knee.

Derek hooked his fingers in the elastic band of his boyfriend's underwear and let it fall to the floor so the other could step out of it - just a week ago that same, easy action almost cost Spencer to trip over and smash his skull straight into the sliding glass door of his shower; but Derek pushed that memory away because acting like the overly protective boyfriend wasn't gonna make things any better or easier, anyway.

It's just. Spencer was so fragile. There was no denying that. His brain was worth all their brains added together if not more, but dammit could a bruise stain his fair skin for weeks on end; reason why they'd given up on hickeys a long time ago - at least visible ones - in light of the fact that ever-lasting purple marks weren't exactly a good idea in their line of work.

"Derek, uhm, I'm taking a wild guess your fully clothed self doesn't know how cold it is in this bathroom, but, it's cold." Spencer's complaint brought him out of his head.

He looked down at himself and, indeed, he was fully clothed still.

"Wanna bet that I won't be as cold as you? You just like to whine a lot don't you?" Derek teased, pulling his henley off.

"It would be decidedly stupid of me to bet on such obviousness ? It's granted that you won't feel as cold as me considering that I'm skinnier; muscle heats up the body through metabolism as well as fat which works as an insulating-"

Reid's babbling was cut off by the man's laughter.

"...what? What's so funny?"

"I finally got naked for you and that's still not enough to stop your fact-spewing?"

Derek saw Spencer gulping and scanning him from head to toe.

"...right" he murmured, biting the inside of his cheek.

Morgan brought the other's pink-tinted face back up with his hands, lifting his gaze from where it was lingering on some undefined area very much below his usual approximately 5'8-something horizon line, and placed a kiss between his eyebrows.

"Come on. I ain't gonna risk you getting a cold on top of everything else." he said softly, securing Spencer's waist with two hands from behind to lead him first into the shower.

And thank God that one was an actual shower, instead of that bathtub the two of them barely fit in with a half-unhooked plastic curtain from that crappy motel the team found themselves having to spend a whole 6 days in, just a couple weeks before. And thank God for the stool, also, because helping Spencer through a shower while either standing or sitting on the floor were provenly exhausting techniques for both of them.

Derek eased his boyfriend into said stool and could immediately see him relaxing under the warm water. He dropped on his knees and started untangling the man's matted curls with his fingers - Spencer had confessed that, before Derek, he only used to untangle the knots with a comb after having showered because he didn't have the time or patience to do otherwise, but Morgan had rightfully reminded him that he had not one but two sisters, hence he was so used to observe how carefully their mom routinely brushed and braided their hair when they were little he could repeat the process by heart - so at the end of the day, "I might be bald but I sure know more about curls than you do, pretty boy".

After having managed to loosen maybe a couple of major tangles at most - nothing out of the ordinary - he reached for the shampoo and squeezed a generous amount on his palm, smearing it on both hands before spreading it onto Spencer's mop of hair.

Morgan had always wondered how the hell the kid always smelt so good; the rare times he could perceive something other than the cozy smell of coffee that almost perpetually imbued Spencer's aura. For some unfounded reason, his first guess had been that the source of such sweet smell must've been Spencer's cologne. After a month at most of knowing him, though, the hypothesis that the lanky genius with the crooked tie and that cardigan Morgan couldn't picture as anyone else's but his grandfather's actually wore cologne, was thrown out of the window. So he'd quite confidently settled for option B, which entailed that the scent had to have something to do with the detergent he used for his clothes. Little did he know he would find himself in Reid's bathroom some night after a case, and his eyes would be caught by a plastic, peach-pink bottle of shampoo that, to his "surprise", smelled like...like Spencer. Like something sweet and fruity with a spicy hint of cinnamon. And it's not like Morgan wasn't aware of the notorious, rom-com cliché that the aphrodisiac smell of the person you're hopelessly pining over is more likely due to their shampoo than anything else; it's more that he didn't want to give in the realization that not only Spencer's hair looked good - and, much later on, felt good twirled around his fingers - but on top of that it smelt good. Oh, dammit, my crush's hair smells like heaven which only adds to the fact that he probably fell from there, seeing how it makes him look like a downright ANGEL. Come on. Supervisory Special Agent Derek Morgan would've preferred without a smidge of doubt to remain unbeknownst of that, for the sake of his poor heart.

Poor heart, indeed, when Spencer started literally purring close-eyed under the soothingly kneading motions of Derek's digits through his hair. There was really no reason to keep on massaging the shampoo on Spencer's scalp for 5 minutes straight, if not that sight.

"Spencer?" he called, failing to contain the urge to lean in and peck at his lips.

"Hmm ?" the dopey man hummed in response.

"Sweetie, don't fall asleep on me here, yeah?"

" 'm trying. But you're not helping." Spencer mumbled, rubbing his eyes with his fingers from the water streaming down his face to open them in slits.

"Ah, so now it's my fault that you get all dreamy when I play with your hair?"

Spencer frowned. "Uhm, yes ?"

The other man chuckled. "Alright. Got the message." he claimed before standing briefly to his feet to grab the sprayer.

"Mmh' no this is even worse..." Spencer mewled when his boyfriend started rinsing his hair with warm water, running his fingers through it to be as thorough as possible.

Derek burst out laughing. "You're unbelievable, I swear to God." he said, making quick work of the rinsing process or else he would've undoubtedly have to drag a passed out, naked Spencer out of the shower.

He put the sprayer back in place and took the shower gel - he had to use the unscented, cheap, exceedingly liquid sample from the hotel - and poured it on his palm.

Spencer held out his hands in a cup-like shape as if waiting for Derek to give him a share of the gel. He looked up at him and arched a brow.

The genius rolled his eyes. "If you don't provide me with something to do I'm gonna seriously fall asleep in here."

Derek nodded and complied. "Lame excuse."

"For what?" the other asked like he didn't know when actually he knew.

"For laying your hands on me?" Derek teased with his 'you can't fool me' tone. "But I ain't complaining, just so we're clear..." he smirked.

After that, Spencer gave up on countering further but his expression didn't waver much; and Derek couldn't even relish in the satisfaction of holding that comment 100% accountable for the flush dyeing Spencer's chest and neck, because it could've very well been mostly due to the steam and hot water.

Both started spreading the gel onto each other's shoulders and necks and torsos, and Morgan wouldn't have managed to tear his gaze away from the skinny man sat in front of him even if he'd purposely tried. Spencer's concentrated expression was the same whether he was solving Schrödinger's equation or he was stirring his coffee with a spoon.

Hazel eyes locked with Derek's after a while, only for a split second before their owner launched himself into his arms; a soapy hand cupping the back of his neck and a warm muzzle burying in his slippery shoulder.

Derek didn't question and simply indulged in the hug, tracing circles with his thumbs on the nubs of Spencer's spine as he let his cheek lean against the top of his head.

"Thank you." a muffled whisper breached through the continuous noise of water thrumming on ceramic and glass and steel surfaces.

"Stop thanking me, kid. I love you." how many times had Morgan found himself saying those exact words, if maybe arranged in different fashions, throughout 5 years of working with Reid? Only difference was that the last bit hadn't always born the meaning it bore now. Almost, though.

After one or two minutes more - Derek couldn't quite gauge, and the fact that Spencer most definitely could brought a slight smile to his lips - Reid let go of the hug; and it was only because being soaked from head to toe blurred out things a little that Morgan couldn't swear the man was a second away from crying.

Reid looked down at his wrinkly finger pads.

"We're wasting an unnecessary amount of water." he said with a small grin curling one edge of his mouth. If Spencer's previous expression rendered almost unreadable by that soaked-head-to-toe situation hadn't been enough to go by, his current tone and the look that went along with it surely were.

However, Morgan didn't mention it, and the couple spent the rest of the shower rinsing the bubbles off of their bodies in soothing quiet.

-

The comfortable quiet kept going unhindered as Derek helped Spencer up and out of the shower, as he wrapped a towel around his bony hips, as Spencer brushed his dripping hair with a wooden comb while watching the standing man put on his sweats and t-shirt. Their exchanges merely fond glances here and hands caressing cheeks there and fingers bumping on skins like silent reminders that they were together in this just as much as in everything else that might come in their way and break them, whether inside or out or both it didn't matter as long as they were Spencer and Derek and Derek and Spencer.

And so together they walked out of the bathroom and into the bedroom, both pleasantly surprised by how they managed to not let Spencer slip on the steam-coated floor.

In a matter of minutes he was sitting on the edge of the mattress, which wasn't nearly as uncomfortable as sitting on the crappy stool or the toilet lid, much to Spencer's relief.

And Spencer Reid was notoriously not one to count his chickens before they'd hatched, but this time...

"Oh baby...does it still hurt so bad?" Morgan asked with full-on worry creasing his handsome features, at the sight of his boyfriend screwing his eyes shut and clenching his jaw while his leg bounced up and down - the leg not injured, that is. He'd caught Spencer doing that sometimes during work and he'd quickly figured it was his way to cope with pangs.

Spencer simply nodded his head frantically and grabbed both the man's hands to squeeze them in a knuckle-whitening clutch.

His boyfriend's sigh was so deep Spencer didn't need to actually see to picture the rising and falling of his chest as visible to the naked eye.

"I'm gonna get the pills the doctor prescribed you and I don't wanna hear you complain." the man asserted.

The second Reid felt him on the verge of standing up, he squeezed his hands even tighter and made an effort to open his eyes.

"No, nonono I- I took it 2 and a half hours ago I can't take anymore for another hour and a half at least." he protested, shaking his head vigorously and staring pleadingly at him.

Morgan sighed again, and this time Reid could see it.

"Ok, alright, then...did you bring that ointment he gave you?"

Spencer's pupils fidgeted around in thought.

"Yeah. Y- yeah, I- I have that in my bag." he replied, stuttering with the abruptness of his realization.

Derek stood up for real now, fetching said ointment.

He came back a minute later and resumed his kneeling position, squeezing some of the balm on his fingers and warming it up by rubbing his hands. He started massaging it onto his boyfriend's knee, and the heavy mass weighing on his chest was lifted like magic when Spencer's muscles relaxed and his deadly grip on the blankets loosened.

Another 'thank you' was about to escape Spencer's mouth, but then he opted to swallow it and instead relish in the sensation of Derek's thumbs rubbing the slick balm in circles at either side of his wounded kneecap; watching him as though if he didn't keep an eye on him he would disappear.

He didn't know how much time had passed, because that was one of those few occasions he'd allowed himself not to keep count of things - most of those occasions were the ones he spent with Derek - but it must have been quite a while because by the time Derek spoke up again, the pain had melted away and his knee was glistening and warm and his heart was fuzzy and vibrating inside his ribcage.

"Better?" the man asked.

Spencer waited a second for him to raise his gaze from the task at hand and direct it toward his, and for the smile that he knew was coming to actually come, before answering.

When that happened, he said: "Definitely."

And if Derek's grin didn't widen it was just because it couldn't get bigger than half of his face, and because it had to be a crime to smile more brightly than that.

"Alright then. Gonna get cleaned up and then I'll help you with pj's."

Spencer opened his mouth to dismiss his offer but was immediately cut off by a finger raised threateningly at him.

"Nope. I don't wanna hear it, I told you." Derek reprimanded before heading to the bathroom.

-

The few minutes Morgan spent washing his hands and pacing around the room to get the other's t-shirt and flannel pants were enough for the warm and fuzzy feeling to seep out of Reid's skin and be replaced by unsettling thoughts he never enjoyed wallowing in, but especially not in that moment.

It was exactly that same feeling from earlier reoccurring to him, the feeling that if he let Derek out of his sight for a second he would lose him - more specifically Derek would leave him. And of course during work the time they spent apart was much more than the one they spent together, but in a working context it was simply...different. Different in a way Spencer couldn't name. It was when they were alone that the feeling came back to choke him with its evil claws; and it was such a foreign one considering that Reid had spent most of his childhood AND adulthood alone, so one would simply guess he was used to it. Maybe it was exactly that: that he'd got so used to being alone he couldn't help but cling onto the first thing that made him not alone, and if in the beginning that thing had been his team and later on the team stopped being enough and it became Dilaudid, now that thing was Derek, and Derek was more than enough for the time being - Spencer was pretty confident he would be enough for the rest of his life, but what if it weren't mutual ? What if Spencer wasn't enough for Derek - for that matter, how could Spencer be enough for anyone? What if Derek left ?

"-encer? Baby you good in there?"

Then what would the next thing be and would a 'next thing' even exist or should he just settle for being alone all over again, only this time he would know the feeling of NOT being alone - would he ever recover from that?

"Hey, kid, c'mon now,"

Could he forget what it had felt like not being alone and learn to suffice for himself?

"Spencer seriously, talk to me ?"

Could Spencer Reid learn to finally FORGET if forgetting meant surviving?

"Spencer, come on baby you're starting to scare me here."

Reid ultimately managed to snap out of his head and realize Morgan had been trying to pull him out of it all along. He felt a hand cradling his jaw and words reaching his eardrums and his name being called in endless sequence.

He shook his head and gaped for a few seconds.

"Yeah, I'm- I'm here, sorry I- just, I was...thinking, I'm sorry..." he swallowed and jerked his eyes away from Derek's because the look he was giving him was a bit too much.

Morgan released a heavy exhale, as his hand shifted to rest on the back of Reid's head, massaging his nape to ground him again.

"Sorry."

"Don't start. Just tell me what you were thinking."

A grimace of reluctance crinkled Spencer's sweet face. "...do I have to?"

"Yes." Derek asserted. "Puppy-eyes won't work this time."

Spencer bit his lip to contain a lopsided, amused smile.

"Well," he shrugged. "it was worth the shot."

Derek snorted in response, visibly relaxing at having managed to reclaim their usual playful banter.

The other man was grateful that Morgan hadn't pried, instead reaching a hand out beside the spot where Spencer was sitting to grab his fresh pair of briefs. The warm-fuzzy feeling partially found its way back through Spencer's bloodstream at the thought that Derek probably knew by now how he was more likely to talk brake-free and open heartedly when he wasn't being overtly pressured to do so.

-

Derek carefully untucked the towel from around Spencer's hips and rose to a half-standing position to prop him up a few inches from the bed and slide it away from underneath him. He helped the man's long legs inside his underwear and lifted him once again to pull it up; he took the slightly moist towel and used it to ruffle Spencer's hair in the attempt to wipe it dry a little - again: a cold wasn't the greatest idea at the moment - gaining his signature nose scrunch and finally, Spencer started spilling.

"I was thinking about this whole...situation." Reid murmured with a sigh.

Morgan considered his words for a few seconds - uncaring of having probably given the man the impression that he wasn't listening - while minutely un-messing the strands of brunette, damp hair he'd messed up with the towel and adjusting them behind Spencer's ears.

"Meaning?" he asked at last; more to give the man the liberty of elaborating how he wanted than because he hadn't picked up on the 'situation' he was referring to.

"Meaning...you taking on Hotch's role temporarily ?" Spencer supplied, raising his pitch at the end as though it were a question.

"What about it, sweetie?" he urged on gently, stopping his ministrations to rub his hands up and down Spencer's sides affectionately.

"I, uh..." Reid cleared his voice. "I just realized that- well, m- maybe it's that I didn't want to think about it so that's why I'm realizing it only now but, anyway; I realized that if...if Hotch isn't coming back..." he trailed off, looking down at his knees.

Derek took the hint and started moving again, picking Spencer's flannel pants and guiding his feet inside them.

Spencer waited for the lift-and-pull-up part to be over - because it was too draining to do that AND talk simultaneously - before conjuring his train of thought again.

"If Hotch doesn't come back, you'll be the new Unit Chief." Reid said, once he was sitting down.

Morgan hesitated, furrowing his brows in confusion as to why Reid would feel the need to state the obvious.

"Yeah." he simply confirmed.

Spencer visibly refrained from explaining, choosing to spend the next few seconds picking at the worn fabric of his pajama pants - now that he wasn't naked anymore and finally had something to fiddle with - sticking uncomfortably to the layer of ointment covering his knee.

As per usual, Morgan's brain was struggling to keep up with his boyfriend's pondering.

But then it hit him.

"Oh..." Derek dropped his gaze; his confused and apprehensive expression fading away to make space for a melancholic and apologetic one.

"...yeah" Spencer murmured. But then decided that a monosyllabic answer wasn't enough, and opted to unfold his thoughts more clearly.

"It means that...that you'll be our superior- my superior, hence we couldn't...you and I, we, we won't be allowed to..." he gulped. He knew his bottom lip was trembling. He could feel it. But he had to say it, or else the concept would eat him alive.

"...to be together anymore. Right?" Spencer concluded with a quivering voice.

Derek wanted to get back to doing what he was supposed to be doing to give them both some more seconds to digest that, but for some reason he feared that if he'd proceeded to help Spencer in his last piece of clothing, the man would've looked even more vulnerable and small in that saggy t-shirt than he did now that he was bare in any sense of the word in front of him.

So he slowly brushed his hands down Spencer's lap to entangle them with his.

"...unless I choose not to." he mumbled.

The genius' scowling glance shot up.

"What?? No. No, I won't let you do that."

Morgan sighed, tilting his head. "Spencer-"

"No, Derek. I couldn't live with myself knowing that you turned down the greatest job opportunity of your life to stay with me."

And that much was the truest statement Spencer had ever made, even if the only thought of breaking up with Derek made every cell in his body ache and his heart bleed out and his bones shatter like a china cup dropping on a granite floor.

Derek stared at him for a while with flat-out disbelief pasted on his face.

"Spencer," he started, and immediately shook his head, unable to contain a snort. Spencer's frown didn't but intensify at that.

"Kid, look. I know that you'd respect my decision to accept the job. I know it because you're one of the most ambitious and over-achieving people I know and I feel nothing but blessed to have someone like you by my side." he paused. "You inspire me in that sense, you know?"

Spencer didn't answer, but his gaze softened instinctively.

"But it's because I know you respect everything I do that I'd be disappointed to know that you made the exception to NOT support me if I decided to turn down the offer."

The words hit Spencer in a certain spot at the base of his skull, but he couldn't bring himself to be ungrateful for Derek being so honest and blunt about the matter.

So he nodded.

Derek continued, because he wasn't convinced at all that the man had got the message.

"And believe me when I say that the reason why I wouldn't accept it isn't because I pity you or I don't wanna leave 'poor Spencer' alone or whatever." he made the air-quote gesture and untangled a hand from Spencer's to bring it to his cheek.

"It's because to me accepting a title that by the way, I'm not even 100% sure that I want, it's not worth leaving the person I'm in love with."

With that last bit, Derek didn't need to forcibly bring his boyfriend's chin up to meet his eyes - Spencer had instantly done that on his own initiative.

"I would NOT be able to leave you, Spencer. For my sake, not out of pity. I know myself." he whispered, stroking his thumb on the other's cheek.

Spencer kept returning the other's stare for what they both perceived like 30 minutes, in search for the slightest hint of lie in Derek's eyes. Which, obviously, he gladly failed to summon.

So he inched closer and pressed their lips together, because kissing Derek seemed like the easier way to both reply to his confession and stop his bottom lip from trembling with the force of emotion welling up in his eyes.

Derek's mouth went along as his arms encircled his boyfriend's dainty frame to carefully shift him closer, until his body was the only thing keeping him from falling off the mattress. He captured every silky motion of Spencer's tongue with unmatched slowness; as if the more thorough the kiss, the better he could savor the man's unspoken words and enshrine them forever in his mind, only fueling his already unarguable conviction that no, he couldn't let this man slip away like it wasn't him that kept Derek's lungs breathing and his heart pounding and his limbs working.

-

With one last smack of lips Spencer gasped out of the kiss, keeping their foreheads glued together and his eyes shuttered because it was clear now that he didn't need to see the man to know he wouldn't leave, but his skin couldn't do without the feeling of Derek's against it nonetheless.

Slowly, he opened his lids and noticed the pair of pitch-black eyes in front of his were staring at him.

He smiled when he spotted a bright glimmer deep inside them, and was returned with a smile of Derek's own.

"Plus," Morgan's hoarse voice gently poked through the silence, as both his hands rose to cup the other's face.

"I know we shouldn't profile each other and all that, but dad really doesn't know what to do with himself when he's not with us, so my money's on him coming back." he joked.

Spencer burst in the prettiest giggle Derek had ever heard and let his head fall onto the other's shoulder.

"Y-yeah, mine too." he agreed once he'd recomposed himself enough to straighten in his seat again.

"Let's put this t-shirt on and go to sleep, uh?" Derek offered.

The genius nodded, and in a matter of 5 minutes at most, the two were a mess of entangled limbs - both injured and not - instants away from falling asleep; with a few less doubts stinging their hearts and just as many newfound strings keeping them together.

[depressed-sock]

Monster of the Week 1

Words: 4k

This work is entirely a self-indulgent throw a bunch of Oc's at the TMA world and see what happens lmao

Tw: dark and lonely fears, abandoning someone in the dark, brief mention of binge drinking, talk about feeling watched

.

Click.

“Investigation of The Woods that Whisper brought to the Archives attention by a woman named Lilith Kingson on August 4th, 1950. Investigation begins on an unspecified date in 2014 because I’d rather not tell my boss exactly when I’m not in the Archives.”

“Certainly not because she’d prefer her precious Psychic-”

“Don’t Jordan.” They throw a glare at him as they let the branch they were holding for him go. Unfortunately, it misses its mark as he ducks out of the way responding back with a smirk and a shrug. “Anyway... Investigation done by archival assistant’s Corwin Night and Jordan L. of the Magnus Institute, American Branch. And yes I do mean the whole American Branch because really who needs funding, Right? Just put everything into one place that is definitely not falling into decay and hope for the best!"

"Do you have to complain about this every time? At least we don't have to investigate from there," Jordan shivers as he finally catches up to them, rubbing his arms as if to brush away a chill that clings to him despite the sweltering heat of the day.

They snort in response, ducking under a low hanging branch while letting out a huff of laughter as Jordan doesn’t correct fast enough and instead runs into it. The hiking path they had found was much smaller than they’d have liked but with the woods almost seeming to be unnaturally overgrown it was really the only choice. "Oh no, we just have to go out and find the monsters instead of waiting for them to find us."

There’s a muttered curse behind them, “Technically you don’t have to Corwin. Remember you're our special little psychic.”

Somewhere in the back of Corwin's mind, they know Jordan's making faces at them behind their back as he says it. And right next to that place in their mind there are thoughts about how much they want him to trip and roll back down the hill. Both thoughts aren't helpful to the investigation, so they sigh and push them away.

“First of all," they stop turning fully back towards him with their arms crossed, "it's just a really shitty version of clairvoyance where I get a sense of danger and a flash of something that never makes sense. Second of all," they throw one more glare at him before turning back around, "my 'psychic powers' as you like to call them, are beyond useless with me just sitting still. Especially there.”

“Because it always feels like you're in danger there?”

They look back over their shoulder at him with a raised eyebrow. A silent question of, do you feel like that? Jordan just shrugs again in response but this time looks anywhere but at them. He's already looking like a mess of nerves and exhaustion. Like they've both been hiking for miles even though they've barely gone half a mile. Half a mile uphill, but still, they really need to get him out of the Archives more. Especially if he doesn't feel safe there.

They take a minute to really think about the question. Do they feel unsafe there? Honestly, not really. “I’d say it's more like I’ve never been able to shake the feeling of being watched.” Even being this far from the building, there’s still that feeling right on the back of their neck. Like someone’s been following the both of them. Watching from the shadows.

The accompanying silence speaks more than words ever could. Of course, they both know exactly why that watching feeling is there. Unintentionally joining a cult for a fear god had not been on either of theirs bucket lists and yet it had somehow ended up that way anyway.

At least their boss had been upfront about it. Gwendalyn had even warned them both that they might not be able to quit if they became archival assistants. Turns out that as long as there's not an Archivist in their specific archive, there was no real need to worry. Corwin had personally watched many people come and go as archival assistants. With only a few who ever came back to the position permanently until they either died or just mysteriously vanished.

Without an Archivist though, no one really focuses on bothering to keep the Archives organized. A pain for anyone actually searching for information or references but a blessing for those absolutely bored out of their minds. It’s become a game of pick a statement, figure out the fear, and if possible figure out a way to either beat it or save the people affected by it. Something that Gwen has actively encouraged everyone in the Institute to do even if they weren’t working in the archives. She'd even begrudgingly encouraged Corwin to do the same.

Corwin’s still not even sure what her interest in keeping them safe is. Everyone else says it's their abilities but they personally suspect that Gwen is setting them up for some kind of promotion. One which they'll politely decline in the end.

No monster hood for them thank you very much.

“So The Woods that Whisper." Jordan's voice cuts through their thoughts, "Such a spooky name that it almost seems too cliche. Is that what the witness called it or what the previous Archivist put it as?”

“Don’t know,” they shrug, “My bet would be the Archivist considering how many files are all sorted with weird names like that. I guess in the end it doesn’t really matter though, does it? Not like we’ve had an actual archivist in the last 60 years to explain it.”

“I heard it was longer than 60 years, which doesn’t explain why we’re investigating an incredibly cold case. You do realize we still get statements from this time period right?”

“It wasn’t that long ago.”

“It’s literally from a time when the Institute used to have an Archivist.”

They can feel him glaring at their back. So maybe it's a cold case that has no actual chance of repeating again. It could happen... In a one and a million chances. So maybe it's instead an excuse to be anywhere else while Gwen starts her monthly annual week of binge drinking and cursing out the London Branch and ‘that slimy bastard Elias'.

Her words, not theirs.

“You’re telling me the free trip back to California isn’t enough to satisfy you?” Their laugh strained as they stop to take in the view of the valley that stretches out from the cliff on their right side. “Oh wait, I forgot you just hate nature.”

He huffs a bit, breathing heavily as he comes to a stop next to them, “I wouldn’t say hate. Just respect for the fact that I was not made for hiking.”

They roll their eyes in response, passing a water bottle to him as they continue to take in their surroundings. The area looks nothing like how it was described in the statement but that was to be expected. Too many years in between then and their current investigation. It’s only the fact that the area feels like the statement that even tells them they’re in the right area. “We should make camp here. Supposedly we should start hearing it just as it hits nightfall.”

“Wait. Nightfall?” He stares at them, distress suddenly clinging to his words, “Please tell me we’re not staying here all night.”

“Okay, I won’t tell you.” They shrug off their backpack. Kneeling down to start double-checking their supplies and making sure they have enough flashlights and glowsticks. Getting caught in the Dark once was already one too many times for them.

“Corry please for the love of god tell me we are not staying here all night,” Jordan practically begs as he looks back towards the way they had come. His stance suddenly turning nervous, his feet shifting uneasily as he stands in place.

“I mean if you really want to try and navigate back in the dark?” they look up at him from their crouch over their bag.

He winces, gaze now eyeing the nearby cliff with trepidation. “Fuck.”

“Seriously, I’ve got enough flashlights to light our way back. We should be fine if you really want to.”

“Do you think it’s that... Whatever it’s called, Dark fear? Or something else?”

“Honestly? It’s got elements of it but I think it feels more like the Lonely one. You’ve felt it since we got here, right? That bone-chilling cold that's more inside you than outside?”

“Was kinda hoping I had been imagining it but I guess I’d take that over the Dark,” he sighs, finally setting his own bag down with a heavy thump.

“Are you ever going to tell me that one? You don’t seem especially afraid of the dark.” They still haven’t found the glow sticks as they search through their bag. They know they’d packed it. Canteen check, energy bars check, where is it?

“It’s… not so much about being afraid of the dark, as it is a fear of not knowing what's in the dark." He rubs the back of his neck as he sits down on a nearby rock. “Listen, I know it’s stupid so let’s forget I said anything.”

"It's not stupid. Fear is fear and we don't really get a say in what we’re afraid of. Also, if I'm wrong and it is the Dark I brought a bunch of glow sticks." There it is. They dig out a baggie of glow sticks from their bag, carefully handing the bundle to Jordan, "Not as powerful as a flashlight but less chance of it supernaturally going out."

Probably. They’re not going to tell him that though considering how tight he clings the glow sticks to his chest, shooting them a thankful smile.

"And if it's the Lonely instead, think happy thoughts?" He tries to laugh his nerves away but falters as he looks back towards the edge.

"No, I think it's more: think about someone or something you love." They sit back, looking up towards the sky while shielding their eyes. The clouds are already taking on a dangerous grey hue. Maybe they should have chosen a place with more stable weather.

“Okay I can do that,” he nods his head before another smirk makes its way across his lips, “Can you though?”

They give him a look of mock anger, hand coming to their chest, “Jordan how could you say that! Of course my vindictiveness and hatred is enough to bring me back to annoy all of you. How could you ever doubt that?”

His snort of laughter is quickly covered by his hand, “I thought you said love brings you out of the lonely?”

“I mean yeah, but it turns out wanting revenge on your evil coworkers works too.”

“Oh, we’re all evil now? And have you even tested this theory?” He raises an eyebrow looking at them with knowing skepticism.

Just because of that One time… okay maybe it was a little more than Ten times but still it’s not like they have any safe way to put theories to the test.

“Not exactly. It’s been years since we’ve encountered the lonely so no real chance for me to test it. But I did dig around and find a statement about a guy who was so pissed off that he was missing a chance to rub something in his coworker’s face that he literally just walked back out of the lonely.”

“And was this statement real? Or did you not bother to even check?”

“Really who has time to check things like that?”

“Corry.”

“Jordan.”

He sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose with a barely held back snort. “You know sometimes I wonder how these fears have any kind of power compared to the power of your vindictiveness.”

“I mean I’m just special like that. For everyone else though? There is a reason why there's what... 14? 16?” They pause quickly counting on their fingers before looking back up to him with a nod, “I think it’s 16 fear gods. A special flavor for just about everyone, and usually it’ll mix in other emotions to make the fear that much worse.” They lightly tap their chin for a second, “Or maybe it’s better to say that much tastier?”

“Right, ew. Also, I’m pretty sure it was 14, where’d you get the extra two?”

“Uhm, That one fear that mixes and matches all of the other ones together. Never got a name for it but I know it exists. Not entirely sure about the other one, just have a weird feeling about it. I don’t think it’s a normal fear anyway so maybe I shouldn’t count it.”

They lean back a bit farther, staring up into the sky as they try to remember why they counted it in the first place. Or even what it was. Maybe they had really just miscounted. It’s not long before they give up with a shrug.

“Well,” Jordan looks up at the clouded sun before looking back at his watch, “it’s only four o’clock and we’ve got till seven before the sun starts to set. Should we go over the statement again?”

“Depends… are we actually Reading it or just reading it?” They scrunch their nose in distaste as they even start to think about it. Either way it wasn’t going to be pleasant but actually Reading it was always the worst choice.

“I mean you did get a dusty old tape recorder out for this adventure, may as well Read it.”

“Too bad I didn’t bring the statement then.”

“Good thing I did though.” Jordan reaches for his bag, unzipping it and immediately pulling out a manila envelope.

“Ugh, fine.” They snatch it out of his hand. Bringing out the lamented pages and quickly readjusting the order. “Statement of Lilith Kingson, regarding The loss of her brother on a camping trip. Original statement given August 4th 1950. Audio recording by Corwin Night, Archival assistant of the Magnus Institute, America. Statement begins: …”

They’d like to say that they are trying to read it, that the words are just a bit too cursivy to understand. But that would be a gigantic lie because in all honesty they’d rather just set the statement on fire, “And yeah nope I changed my mind I already hate this.”

Jordan laughs, “You didn’t even read the first line!”

“Listen this shit feels weird enough reading it in my head. I don’t need to read it out loud to know that the experience was that.”

“Oh my god. Give it here, I’ll read it.”

“Alright, your funeral.” They pass it back, or maybe it’s better to say they throw it back trying to rid themself of the pages as fast as possible. Unintentionally causing the pages to scatter to the ground.

Jordan shoots them an unimpressed look before picking them back up, “No matter how paranoid you are Corwin, reading the statements out loud does not kill anyone.”

“That we know of,” their voice a bit too high pitched as they shot finger guns at him.

Which Jordan only acknowledges back with an eye roll. “Supplemental. Audio recording now by Jordan L. because Corry hates you personally eye god of the tapes.”

“Don’t call it that, you’ll inflate its ego.”

“Yes, I’ll inflate the ego of a massive entity we can’t even begin to understand. Of course. What on earth was I thinking?” The sarcasm drips heavily from his voice.

“Oh fuck you, just get it over with.”

“Fine. Statement Begins: ”

I didn’t know it would happen. It was just supposed to be a prank, a bit of sibling rivalry. It was just something we did. Alex would put salt in my drink when I’d complain it was too sweet and I’d get him back by throwing gum in his hair because he kept complaining about needing a haircut. Pranks. That’s all it was. Just a way to get back at each other when we got frustrated with how our lives were going.

It was never meant to be harmful. But, admittedly, sometimes it did get out of hand.

I just wanted to get back at him for locking me in the basement. It had been so dark, and I had been so terrified. It was like the walls had been closing in on me, and there was nothing I could do about it. Not even scream.

He didn’t even apologize to me when he finally opened the door to find me broken down and crying. Wouldn’t even acknowledge it was him who had locked me down there. So I decided he needed a taste of it himself.

It took almost a year of planning, but I’d finally had everything ready by the time of our annual camping trip. He didn’t even bat an eye when I changed the location and date. Just shrugged and said the view should be nicer from there. I almost wish he’d put up more of a fight against it.

We’d arrived just before dark, with enough extra time to find the spot and set up camp. The spot had been well worn from previous travelers and right next to the cliff, looking out across the valley. A nice view but also one I knew for sure wouldn’t have the lights from any houses or other camps.

Didn’t take us long to set up camp but the entire time something had felt… off. I’m not sure how exactly to describe it, it just was an overwhelming feeling that we were probably the only people on the entire mountain. It almost felt stupid to even feel that way because we had definitely passed other campsites on the drive up. Seen houses lit up and filled with families.

We weren’t alone. But at the same time, I guess we truly were. After all, it’s why I picked the spot.

It was nearing night and I’d finally grown uneasy enough that I decided to just put my plan into action. I told him I’d be just a second, that I had forgotten something in the car. And I left without even looking back.

He didn’t even offer to come with me. But he’d also been in a strange mood all day. Looking more distant and less chatty than usual. I shrugged it off, thinking the drive up might have tired him.

And anyway it wouldn’t matter. He’d wake up soon enough to realize I’d taken off with all the lights. Including the matches. He wouldn’t have been able to go after me once he’d realized what I’d done. It was a new moon that night, it would have been too dark to safely navigate the path. He would have to sit there in the dark, all alone, and wait for me to come back.

I’d promised myself that if he started yelling, or panicking I’d make my way back. I just wanted him to stew in that feeling of being alone and helpless. Make him see what he’d put me through. So I waited.

And waited.

Until I was starting to finally feel that uneasiness creep back into my spine. Being alone for that long was too much for me to handle, so it had to have been too much for him to handle too, right? So I started making my way back, even when a sudden fog started to settle over the path.

I should have stayed in the car. I knew better than to go wandering like that but I just wanted to see him again. To make sure he really was alright. I hadn’t heard anything from him, even though I expected to at least hear him cursing me out for taking the lights. Actually, if I really think about it, I didn’t hear anything. No bugs, no animals, not even the sound of my own footsteps crunching through the brush.

I tried to keep on the path, walked slowly to make sure it was still underfoot and I hadn’t somehow gone off track because of the fog. I must have though. Because I kept walking and walking and I still hadn’t found our camp yet. It shouldn’t have been taking that long. We didn’t hike that far away from the road.

I tried calling out for Alex but… It wasn’t him that answered. All around me I could hear people talking. It was like a crowd of people all mumbling at once in my ears and when I looked up from the path I couldn’t see them. There were shapes moving in the fog but I couldn’t make them out. They were just dark shadows against the white. It was around then I slowly began to realize it should have been too dark to see the fog like that. Even with my light.

It was like the fog itself was just naturally that bright.

It didn’t even dawn on me at the time that the shadows, the whispers could have been ghosts. I was just so desperate not to be alone. I called out again but none of them would ever get closer or acknowledge I was there. Just shadows talking in low murmured tones I had no hope of understanding. It was all words that weren’t really words. And I don't mean like another language either.

“Jordan.”

It was… It sounded like English but it just didn’t form the words right. And it hurt to think too hard on trying to make them into words I could understand. I tried running at the shadows, tried to catch up to them but they always seemed to get further and further away. I’d finally gotten to the point that I didn’t even care about the path anymore, I barely even remembered where I was or what I was doing.

“Jordan, stop I think I heard something.”

I don’t remember exactly what it was that broke me from the trance I seemed to have lulled into. I just remember the sudden feeling of missing my brother. I almost thought I could hear him yelling my name-

“Jordan!”

It's the shaking that finally makes him realize that Corwin's in front of him, shouting his name while desperately looking back and forth between him and the forest behind them. His brain feels like it’s working through a fog. Trying to focus on the present, on Corwin’s panicked expression…

He’s never seen Corwin panic before. Not in all the years they’ve worked together. Not even after the doppelganger incident.

It’s that realization that finally that lets him focus a bit back on the present. On Corwin’s hands firmly gripping his shoulder, shaking him slightly back and forth.

“Oh… Uh, What’s wrong?” he tries to sound concerned, but it comes out more as a mumble of confusion. He blinks again, trying to will away the sudden haze from his mind but it’s still there. That need to finish reading the statement. How had he forgotten this feeling? It's only been a few months since he recorded one.

“Focus Jordan. I heard something out in the woods.” They turn again, looking behind themself nervously, before turning back to him, “I’m getting a bad feeling, I think we should leave.”

“What? But-” he looks around then, coming to the sudden realization that it's now night. A very dark night. “I thought you said it wasn't the Dark fear?!" His voice squeaks out, fear already starting to clutch at his throat.

“It’s not that kind of Dark don’t worry. I just didn’t realize it was a new moon tonight. We’ll be able to use the flashlights just fine but I think we should-”

The sound cuts them off. A low deep rumble that suddenly turns into a vicious snarl accompanied by sounds of something in the brush growing closer.

Corwin's face grows a shade lighter before forcing him to stand with them. A single command forced out through gritted teeth, “Run.”

Click.

.

.

.

Click.

(The sound of a car door slamming and heavy breathing fill the empty space until finally the car ignition is started.)

(A man's voice starts to talk, wheezing heavily as if out of breath.) “Oh don’t worry it’s just the Lonely! That was definitely not the fucking Lonely Corwin.”

“To be fair the statement is definitely the Lonely. And anyway, how was I supposed to know that a Hunter was stalking this area?”

“What, you’re power didn’t give you a heads up?!”

“I already told you a million times that it was a shitty power and besides I don't think we were the prey it was after so we're fine.”

"Really?! Because it sounded really fucking close to gutting us."

"If it wanted us dead we'd be dead."

(A distant scream pierces the air. Causing a pause in the conversation.)

“...I can’t believe this, just… just fucking drive and get us out of here. And this fucking recorder is still on?!”

“What are you talking about? I don’t even have it anymore, I dropped it when we were running…That. That’s not the same one. I swear I only brought the one.”

“Right… Right, I’m just… going to go ahead and turn it off.”

Click.

[i-guess-im-a-fanfic-writer-now]

A better life (Chapter 13, Avengers x reader)

ayyyyy!!! here’s this chapter, i’m gonna post chapter 14 on the 15th of december, will try my best to get back on track and post every other week though

i hope you enjoy this one! likes, comments, reblogs are greatly appreciated! also, as usual, if you want me to write anything into the tw that isn’t already there, feel free to ask me to do it!

tw: does self doubt count? as in like, doubting that what’s happening is actually Bad? because there’s that closer to the end,,, also, there’s a food thing but it’s only like a “i’m afraid of taking fridge food since it might be someone else’s” kinda thing, and also the word “dumbass” (said by the reader but affectionately? does that make sense?)

Your alarm went off. You slowly opened your eyes, peeking out cautiously from under your covers. You weren’t entirely sure where you were at first, thinking that maybe what happened yesterday was all just a dream, and you were once again in the same apartment as your mother, but you quickly gained awareness of your surroundings. You were still in the Stark Tower.

“Shit”, you whispered, practically jumping out of bed. In just a few seconds, you managed to forget that you had to go to your job. You got ready and headed out, not seeing any of the Avengers on your way out. It was pretty early, and most of them would probably be trying to sleep in, so you figured everything should be fine.

A few hours later, during your lunch break, you decided to quickly go get some of your things from your apartment. You had your set of keys, and since it was still a weekday, you knew that your mother would be at her job, and no one else would be at the apartment. You had to run for a few minutes to make sure you’d have enough time for everything and for getting back to your job.

You unlocked the door, and slid through the hallway. You immediately dashed to your room, your heart beating so hard you could hear it. You found a small luggage in your closet, and decided to use it. You put as many things as you could fit in there: clothes, books, etc., took a few necessities, like your toothbrush and any hygiene products that you needed, zipped the case up, and left the apartment in a hurry, locking the door on your way out. *I’ll come back tomorrow just in case I forgot anything*, you thought.

Luckily, your boss let you place your small luggage into an employees only room, and you finished up the work day in a few more hours. You clocked out, took your luggage, and immediately left for Stark Tower. It looked just as majestic as it did the first time you saw it, but now it was less imposing. It felt a bit more like home. It felt safe.

As soon as you got back to your room, you began unpacking and placing objects into their new space. It looked pretty clean to you, but it was probably cluttered enough for some people to just have no idea how you know where your things are. You didn’t really care if others didn’t understand your organization method. It made sense to you, you vaguely knew where things were supposed to be, and that was enough.

After having changed into comfier clothes to wear in a “home” environment, you checked the clock in the room. It was 4 o’clock in the afternoon. You took a deep breath, and suddenly yawned. You grunted, and headed over to the kitchen, sliding quietly in your socks.

The room was completely empty. You relaxed a bit, put the water on to boil, and quickly went to your room and back, now holding a bowl of dollar store noodle soup.

Suddenly, you heard the noise the lift made when opening. You quickly turned around to face the noise. Tony was standing there, and for a few seconds he just stared at you in confusion. You started kind of panicking internally as he stared at you, even though it lasted mere seconds.

He walked up to you and nodded at the dollar store bowl in your hands.

“Hey, why you eating that? Kid, you know there’s food, right? You can have the food. There’s plenty here”, he nodded towards the fridge and freezers standing close to another counter. For a moment, it looked like he froze, and he then looked at you. “Are you, like, allowed to come and go to the kitchen when your mother’s around?”

You shrugged awkwardly. “She’s kind of scary, I uh, I tend to avoid her. I kind of usually go to the kitchen at night. And she could randomly decide that she wanted something despite telling me she didn’t want it, so I’ve just been trying not to inconvenience her, you know.” You looked down to the floor. “Ramen’s better than nothing, so..”

“You can take any food you want at any time, Y/N, alright? Like, unless someone’s name is actually on it, it’s free to eat. You can have anything you like.”

“Thank you, Mister Stark”, you smiled awkwardly, flicking your gaze to him for half a second. You noticed you were fidgeting, so you shoved your hands into your pockets.

“Want a hug?”

You looked at him, and he opened his arms. You nodded and he gently enveloped you in his arms. 

“Thank you”, you said. You tried to hug him back, feeling a bit unsure: you didn’t really know how hugs worked, and accidentally being awkward would be, well, awkward. Tony was going to be your legal guardian, or at least one of them, pretty soon, and you were scared of doing something that would make him not want to have you around anymore, even though you technically knew this wouldn’t happen.

You stayed like that for maybe half a dozen seconds when you both let go, and he went over to the coffee maker, immediately getting everything he needed for it. The dollar store ramen was already open, so you just made it and decided to get some actual food later on, after you finished what you already had.

Tony sat down into a couch, his coffee mug in front of him on a small table, and he then just half lied down, letting out a small groan. He grabbed a remote from the table and turned on the tv, putting it on a low volume. He looked pretty tired.

When you finished eating the ramen, you were still hungry, so you went over and got something from the fridge, making sure a dozen times that it didn’t belong to anyone. You heated it up and ate it slower than usual, trying to enjoy the taste of it. 

Closer to when you were done, you started hearing some sort of noise. Desperately trying to find the source of the repetitive noise, you looked around and quickly found it: Tony was just chilling in front of the tv, snoring. He must’ve been really tired. You cleaned up your plate, grabbed a blanket, and placed it onto him so he wouldn’t freeze, and then you moved the coffee mug further away from the edge of the table: it wouldn’t be pleasant for him if he suddenly woke up and accidentally pushed the mug off the table, or if he broke something and got hurt because of it.

You left the common room and decided to stay in your room for a while. You took your laptop and headphones out of your bag, putting your music on shuffle and sitting down at the work table in the room and simultaneously adjusting the height of the chair. After skipping 9 songs until you found the one you wanted, you closed your eyes and inhaled deeply, lying back into the chair.

A bit later, you checked the time. You blinked repeatedly, unsure that what you were seeing was real; it was 7pm. You’d been listening to music for over two hours, but it felt like maybe half an hour had passed.

You got up and dragged yourself over to the bed, lying face down and wrapping yourself into blankets for maximum comfort and warmth, and you curled up into a ball, all while still wearing your headphones. You didn’t even remember closing your eyes, but you just passed out. 

A bit over two hours later, there was a gentle knock on the door, but it still managed to wake you up in a brief panic.

Natasha’s voice started quietly, but then grew just a bit louder.

“Hey, Y/N, just wanted to say that it’s like, dinner time, so feel free to come out and hang around with us all in the common room. Yeah.”

You kept quiet, weighing out the pros and cons of joining a large gathering and decided against it.

*I Do Not have energy for this right now*, you thought, despite still feeling thankful that Natasha thought of you.

You buried yourself deeper into the blankets and stayed there, almost unmoving, and just breathing slowly for what felt like forever, until it became too hot and you took the blankets off yourself. You were still in your day clothes since you didn’t plan on actually falling asleep. You stretched, groaning quietly, still lying down, and caught yourself just as you were about to roll of the bed and fall onto the floor.

*Fuck, I want tea. But there’s a gathering going on. Dammit. Eh, I’ll just, maybe, wait like, an hour? Yeah, yeah, that’s fine. An hour. I’ll get tea at like, 10. Should be less people there then. This is fine. Might as well do something while waiting.*

 You sat in front of your laptop, opened it, and started scrolling through Youtube, looking for fun things to watch while doing nothing. Staring periodically at the clock, you got increasingly annoyed: time seemed to move really slowly for some reason, and though you could swear you just watched two 15 minute long videos, the clock showed that not even 10 minutes passed since 9pm. You were starting to get hungry despite having eaten a few hours ago, and you felt your stomach growl already.

Grabbing a book, you sat down onto the carpeted floor in front of the couch, your back propped against it. You just needed to distract yourself until you could stand leaving the room and hopefully not have to talk to a bunch of people.

Reading was practically impossible: you couldn’t actually concentrate at the moment, and it really didn’t help that you either over concentrated on things or your attention span was so short that you couldn’t keep yourself occupied for longer than a minute, and even then, you had no idea what happened within that minute.

You just decided to put an alarm for 10pm in case you got distracted.

Suddenly, a notification popped up on your phone, and then another. The first one was Peter, and you immediately clicked it to read his message.

- Ayy, what’s up? (P.P.)

- hey, not much, chilling at the Stark Tower

they’re having some sort of evening gathering and i’m just honestly too dead and overwhelmed to join them

you? (Y/N)

- that’s nice! i’m glad you’re staying there lately!!

oOf, big mood, gatherings are like, Exhausting and just Too Much sometimes

just got back from swinging around the city, i am tired as h * c k (P.P.)

- dude why did you censor heck (Y/N)

- how dare, this is a swear free minecraft server, you can’t say Bad Words here that’s Illegal (P.P.)

- asfjfjak go to sleep (Y/N)

- *uno reverse card picture* (P.P.)

- noo i’m waiting so people leave so i can get food 

seriously tho go to sleep if you’re exhausted, i just had an accidental two hours long nap so i’ll be alright for a bit (Y/N)

- ight fine i’ll go to sleep, good night Y/N (P.P.)

You smiled and sent him a good night message back.

“Dumbass spider”, you said quietly.

Another notification appeared. This was a text from your mother, which freaked you out a bit, but it said “call me”, so you couldn’t really do anything about being scared at the moment. You dialled her number and waited, full of dread, for her to answer. When she finally answered, you said a quiet “hi” to her. She asked you how things were going, and you played along, saying everything was good while really trying not to sound like you were panicking.

Less than a few minutes later, she said her goodbyes. Doubts started creeping into your mind. *What if I’m wrong and she’s actually really nice? What if she’s only like that to me sometimes because I’m just,, Bad? Maybe I made a mistake by telling mister Stark.. she’s nice to me sometimes, what if it’s like, okay?” You started feeling a bit uneasy, afraid that you were making a huge mistake by asking him to help you with getting out of the situation with your mother.

You hugged your knees and stared at the floor, overthinking this one interaction with her. *What if she’s actually really mad at me and when she sees me back there again she’ll show her anger? What if she somehow found out that I told mister Stark?*

[purplesurveys]

722

How many walls are in your bedroom? It’s your typical four-wall bedroom. What do you think about Fall Out Boy? I like their older stuff and my favorite album of theirs is Folie à Deux by a mile. Haven’t been able to keep up much with their new material, but I definitely don’t hate the stuff they’ve been putting out. Do you know where Guatemala is? I wouldn’t know where to find it on a map but I know it’s somewhere in the middle of North and South America? At least I’m pretty sure? Do you find musicians attractive? I mean being a musician isn’t necessarily a criterion for me to be attracted to someone, but sure I’ve come across good-looking musicians in the past. Do you like hard boiled eggs? They’re okay but I like soft-boiled more.

Do you know anyone named Hector? Nope. Would you move to another country for the one you love? We’ve had this conversation before and she has vehemently scolded me when I said that I honestly would, but idk that’s me. Then again, we’ve never been in that situation so I don’t really know how I’d actually act when it came to that. Do you own an instrument? We have a keyboard, but it’s for everyone’s use. I don’t own any of my own. What do you usually have for lunch? Ever since the quarantine started my family has only been having very late breakfast and dinner, so I’ve technically been skipping lunch for over a month now. But before this whole thing started my lunch would typically be whatever my mom can cook, which is pretty limited – fried chicken, sisig, and giniling with varied soups are her usuals, if I remember right. Ever had a pregnancy scare? I would have absolutely no reason to have one. What do you think about the Purple People Eater? I’ve never heard of this before. What the hell is that looool Are you pale or tan? Tan. What's the weather like right now? It’s windy, just a tad chilly, and comfortable enough during the night which I’m thankful for, but the days are excruciatingly hot. Sometimes it’ll be very humid and the air becomes too heavy and difficult to breathe in, and it usually means it will rain that night, but that’s seldom. I get headaches almost everyday now because of the rapid temperature changes, and it suuuucks because we’ve run out of Biogesic in the house. Do you like cats? No. We have such different personalities and I can tell all of the ones I’ve encountered don’t like me. But for the next few days I’ll probably have a brief soft spot for cats because my sister’s cat, Arlee, passed away last Sunday. We were never close and her tail always got bushy whenever she saw me, but it was the first time I had to deal with a pet cat dying and I was still pretty shattered by it. What's the best part about Wal*Mart? I dunno, I can’t relate. Do you think Akon is amazing or annoying? I think neither of him. I mostly don’t mind him. Do you like the buzz cigarettes give you? I’ve... never gotten a ~buzz from them before? Am I smoking wrong? Lmao. But uh idk it’s weirdly pleasurable overall, and now I’m ever so slightly disgusted with myself for even being able to say that now. Are you a practical joker? Nope, I hate pranks. Do you like pop? This is slang for soda right? No I don’t. I feel like my tongue is being cut off every time I try it out and that always ruins the whole experience for me. What are you looking forward to? Eating the box of sushi sitting beside me. Angela surprised me for my birthday and had the sushi delivered to my house :) Have you ever laughed so hard you couldn't breathe? I’m sure most of us have. What's your favorite band? This question has been everywhere recently. I like Paramore the most but just so I give a different answer for once, I also enjoy alt-J. Do you feel stupid when you spill things on yourself? My mom has conditioned me to think this way, so yes. I feel pretty stupid when I drop or spill anything. Are you excited for summer? In the current global situation? It’s hard to feel excited for anything, especially when experts have recommended closing everything down until at least August. Have you ever snuck out? No. My mom would’ve found out easily. It’s always easier to ask for permission cause she’s never said no anyway. When's the last time you were kissed? :( A month and two weeks. Would you ever eat popcorn & salsa? I’ve never tried them together; I think it’d be a weird combination plus salsa already isn’t my dip of choice anyway. Do you sleep with the television on? Nah but close. I’ll sometimes sleep with Netflx or YouTube playing on my phone, depending on what I feel like listening to before falling asleep. Would you ever want to be able to be invisible? I’ll fantasize about it sometimes, sure. What does your favorite shirt look like? Don’t have a current favorite shirt since I can’t go out anyway. What's your favorite scent? Gabie’s perfume or any freshly cooked food. Skype, Msn, Aim, or Yahoo? All of these are pretty much ancient now. What's your favorite time of the day? These days I’m really loving these hours in particular – midnight onwards. It’s nice to finally be alone considering I’m cooped up in a house with family literally all day, and it’s nice to use the alone time listening to lo-fi and answering a survey or two. Do you hate the phrase ''love ya'' when coming from a boyfriend/girlfriend? Yeah it wouldn’t sit well with me if it came from Gabie. But I say this regularly to my friends. What do you do when someone in the room has b.o.? Look away if I’m forced to be with them, or just move away altogether if I’m not talking to them directly. What movie would you like to see right now? Not really in a movie watching mood rn. I just watched Two for the Road a couple of nights ago and that’s enough for me, hahaha. How many times a day do you shower? Just once. What do you think of the name Chloe? It’s cute! It’s already common where I live so it’s not one of my top baby name choices, but I really love the name and I think this spelling in particular is cute. Do you like Hollister? When I was 14, sure. I was mostly invested in them because Louis Tomlinson of 1D’s girlfriend used to be a Hollister model HAHAHAHA. These days I largely don’t care for the brand. What's your favorite alcoholic drink? I always go for a Long Island Iced Tea whenever they have it on a menu. Do you like 80's music? Like, 0.0003% of it. Just not my decade for music. Do you have to wear glasses or have contacts? I wear glasses. I choose not to wear contacts. Do you play Halo or Gears of War? No for both. How do you feel about cleaning? I think it’s...necessary lol? I don’t really actively feel anything for it, other than it has to be done every now and then. What do you think of emo kids? I think we should leave ‘em be. Do you like the movie Grease? I don’t like musicals. Do you like singing? Only by myself or if I’m absolutely shitfaced drunk.

What's your favorite Jim Carrey movie? Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind, WITHOUT A DOUBT. There's a knock at your door at 4 in the morning; what do you do? Welp, given that there’s been a recent disturbance in our village where a construction worker broke into a neighbor’s home, I’ll probably be more wary this time around and just ignore it. I’ll stay alert for a few minutes to see whether they start breaking in after being ignored or simply walk away so that I’m ready to wake up my parents and start screaming if they do the former. Do you like peaches? I hate all fruits. Ever lost a best friend? Not to death, but I’ve drifted apart from a best friend.

Ever heard of a town called Wadena? No. Only Wakanda, heh. Have you ever been to a funeral? I’ve never been to a funeral; I’ve only visited wakes. We were pretty sheltered when it came to death and I would dread the day I’d have to go to my first funeral because I don’t know if I’d be capable of processing the events. What's your favorite sport? Pro wrestling if it counts. If it doesn’t, tennis is my favorite to watch while table tennis is my favorite to play. What do you think about homeschooling? Egh the homeschooled kids where I live always turn out to be a bit weird or not very sociable, so I’m kinda biased against it. I don’t know if homeschooling in other countries can say the same, though. What do you think about French people? I don’t think anything of them. Thankful for their pain au chocolat though. Do you like your parents? Yes. They’ve worked harder than anyone I know to get to where they are now and to be able to provide as much as they have for their three kids. I respect them tremendously for that. I just wish we were more open and expressive and affectionate as a family in general; that would literally solve like 9732 of my problems. And I also wish that my mom wasn’t verbally abusive at times. What do you think about Minnesota? OMG nothing, stop. Do/did you like high school? It had its ups and downs. I’m mostly in the middle about it, like I can’t say I enjoyed it cause then that would betray the things I hated about it, and I can’t say I mostly hated it cause that would invalidate the good times. I did learn a lot though, that I can say for sure. Do you have any Asian friends? All of my friends are Asian. Is it cold where you live? Not even barely. Do you find accents attractive? No. I find most of them difficult to follow which is why I always need subtitles when I view anything foreign haha. Do you hate it when people make spelling mistakes? No, unless they act like a know-it-all but still fuck up their spelling. Would you ever let your boyfriend/girlfriend do your makeup? I would DEFINITELY let them do my makeup – she’d be the first person I would run to hahaha because I don’t know the first thing about applying makeup. Do you like to shop? Not like every week, but it is fun to fall down the rabbit hole and start grabbing clothes heh. How long are you on the computer during a 24 hour period? These days I’m not on it for long, which I’m really happy about! When the lockdown started I was really worried that I was gonna be too dependent on my laptop and never close it for the entire quarantine period, but the opposite has been happening. I really just open it in the evening when I take surveys, so that’s around 3-4 hours. Is money really that important? It is for me, and for everyone else in this third world Southeast Asian country. Have you ever broken a bone? Nope. Who is your favorite family member? My dog. What size bed do you have? Just a twin size, nothing special. Can’t wait to earn on my own and buy me a much bigger mattress. What age do you want to be married? Late 20s, if possible. I want to be ready for kids by the time I hit my 30s.   What's the last thing your wrote? A Facebook message for Gabie. What do you think of your town? It’s mostly uneventful here, but I think I prefer living in a calm city cause I suppose it would be exhausting living in a city that’s so hectic all the time. My situation also gives me a healthy balance of busy and quiet which I think has helped my wellbeing. When's the last time you played hide & go seek? Years and years and years ago. I think it was when we first moved into the house and it was still mostly empty.

[karaliswrites]

Summer Nights

Why are they always playing Mario Kart

~~~~~

It’s mid-July and school is out.  The days are almost suffocating in their heat and the evenings are warm and sticky, the air filled with the whizz of insects that come out in a symphony when the sun sets.  Armin’s shorts are burning against his skin, the perspiration gathering there reminding him of the annoying fabric that he wishes wasn’t necessary.  The gentle breeze of Eren’s broken fan isn’t nearly enough to cool the room.  It��s even hotter inside than it is out.  Armin shifts periodically, twisting the controller in his hands as they become too clammy and it starts to get uncomfortable in his grip.  But despite the ongoing battle he’s fighting with the heat, he absolutely can’t, under no circumstances, let Eren beat him at this round of Mario Kart.

He concentrates entirely on the race, both out of the surge of competitiveness he’s feeling and also as a distraction against the smothering summer heat.  Though it’s not nearly as hot as it was earlier in the day, there’s something about summer nights that Armin hates more than when the sun is out.  In those times, people turn on the air conditioning and hide from the sun’s harsh rays.  And if there’s ever a time Armin needs to face the blinding glare of the outside, it burns for a moment and then it’s over.  But it’s when everything cools down a little, though not completely — never completely — that Armin feels absolutely asphyxiated.  It’s when it’s not exactly cool, but not exactly hot, just warm enough to cause that prickle of discomfort beneath his skin.  To make his sheets too warm, but the open air not quite cool enough to let him sleep in peace.  It’s when people turn off the sweet sanctuary of the air conditioning and resort to using simple household fans that Armin thinks do a lousy job of eliminating the smoldering heat.  When perspiration is hot on his brow, his lips dry, and he’s unable to sit still for more than five seconds because the summer air settles around him like a blanket.

So when he manages to cross the line a mere second before Eren does, he lets out a warm breath, flashing his best friend a smile.  “I beat you,” he says and sees the brunet roll his eyes, however fondly.  “Whatever.  I was just letting you win.”

“Sure,” he laughs, falling back onto Eren’s bed with a light sigh.  The sudden rush of air from the movement is refreshing, but it’s quickly replaced with a growing discomfort where his back meets the sheets.  He spreads his arms and legs, hoping that maybe the more area he covers, the cooler he’ll become.  It doesn’t really work.  Eren just laughs at him under his breath and lays down next to him with a dramatic flail of his arms that makes Armin giggle.  He sweeps his bangs off of his forehead and spreads blond hair like a halo around his face, trying to expose his skin to rid of the sickening stickiness of the humidity.  He glances over at Eren, seeing his eyes closed, his nose twitching as he breathes softly.  He sees thick lashes dark and elegant against the tan of his cheeks, the shimmer of a thin layer of sweat on his forehead.  His lips are curved into an almost surreptitious smile and he feels his heart swell.  Eren’s chest rises and falls and for a moment Armin thinks perhaps he’s fallen asleep before his lashes lift to reveal stunning green eyes that flick to Armin with a gentle glimmer.

Armin feels his stomach flutter and he swallows, turning away, running a hand over his eyes.  He’s suddenly reminded of the thing that’s been plaguing his mind for the past few months that he’s told himself over and over to forget about.  “Hey, you okay?”

Eren’s voice is strange in the silence.  “Yeah,” he replies half-heartedly, letting out a gentle sigh, turning his head a bit towards his best friend.  “Just tired.”

Ocean eyes meet emerald and he can see a glimmer of skepticism there and bites his lip nervously.  “You sure?”

“Yeah, I’m sure.  Why, does it seem like something’s wrong?”

He’s said too much.  The deception in his voice is subtle, but Eren’s known him long enough to pick up on it.  The brunet shifts onto his elbow and Armin feels a wave of dread wash over him like the summer heat.  Emerald eyes fix on him with such intensity that he feels his cheeks redden, adding to the already unbearable warmth of the surrounding air.  “You’ve been kinda distant these past few months.  We don’t really hang out as much as we used to.”

He tries to come up with something that can get him out of this conversation.  Some excuse that Eren will accept as the truth and they can both forget about.  Something small.  Unimportant.  “Why is that?”

The look in Eren’s eyes makes Armin’s chest tighten in fear and a feeling he’s shoved away for awhile now.  He looks away, glancing hurriedly, frantically, over anything in the room, eventually settling on the fan that gently ruffles the sheets that hang just over the edge of the mattress.  “I don’t know, I’ve just been . . . busy.”

It’s a horrible excuse.  Armin would’ve cursed himself given another situation.  But his heart was palpitating so furiously that he was beginning to think something was seriously wrong.  “Armin,”

The way his name rolls off Eren’s tongue makes a shiver run down his spine and he bites his lip, feeling his eyes beginning to water.  “I’ve known you my whole life.  Something’s upsetting you.”

Armin honestly doesn’t know why he’s so gut-wrenchingly terrified.  Maybe it’s the ostensible prospect that Eren will hate him.  He knows that won’t happen.  He knows deep inside that nothing he can do will ever make Eren turn against him.  But there’s a small part of his mind that’s riddled with anxiety, that fills his thoughts with constant ‘what if’s and worst-case-scenarios.  And just that one shred of doubt, that one miniscule chance that Eren might leave him, abandon him forever, — however unlikely it may be — is enough to make his stomach churn horrendously.

“I . . . um . . . ,” he starts, his voice quivering in fear.  He thinks maybe he can tell Eren the truth.  Just not all of it.  Because if he did, he’d increase the chance of losing his best friend.  Of losing the only person he really cared about.  Everyone else he loved was gone and Eren was all he had left.  He couldn’t lose him too.

“I’ve just . . . there’s something I . . . .”

He looks into emerald eyes and takes a deep breath, trying to form a decent sentence.  “Eren.”

“Yes.”

“You’re my friend.”

“Yes.”

He lets out a giggle despite himself.  “Eren, come on, this is a serious conversation.”

“Okay, okay, I’m sorry.  Just trying to lighten the mood.”

He settles on his elbows, scooting a bit closer to Armin, but he isn’t sure whether or not this is consciously done.  He’s still on his back and squirms under Eren’s gaze, feeling himself blush and the fabric of his t-shirt press warmly against his stomach.  He swallows.  “I really . . . we’ve been friends for years now.  You know me better than probably anyone else.  You wouldn’t . . . walk out on me, would you?”

“What?” he asks, his seemingly nonchalant position stiffening into one of solemnity.  “Why on earth would I do that?”

“Just . . . I dunno.  If I ever did something . . . you thought was . . . disgusting . . . .  Something that would make you hate me . . . .” he mutters, his throat beginning to knot with anxiety.  “Armin,” he says strongly and he can’t help meeting emerald eyes.  “There’s nothing you could ever do that would make me hate you.  And I would never think you were disgusting.  You’re important to me and I’d never walk out on you because of something stupid like that.”

He feels a gentle smile tug at the corners of his mouth, but can’t find it within him to complete it.  “I just . . . I’ve been thinking . . . .”

Eren doesn’t say anything.  He just sits silently, watching him — waiting for him — like there’s nothing else but the two of them and the relentlessness of the humidity.  “I’ve never been . . . completely honest with you — well, with myself.”

His brow furrows.  “How so?”

Armin lets out a strangled laugh, but it’s more rueful and self-deprecating than anything else.  “I’m making this sound so much worse than it is.”

“Well, if it’s this hard for you to tell me, then it must be pretty serious.”

“I know.  I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be sorry.”

He glances at him again and thinks he sees a flicker of a smile.  “There’s nothing you should be sorry for.  Just take your time and when you feel you can tell me, tell me.  You don’t even have to if you don’t want to.”

“I want to,” he says hurriedly, inching closer to him out of instinct before shrinking back.  “I’m just . . . scared.”

“Of what?”

“Of you . . . leaving me forever . . . .”

“Armin —”

“I know you won’t,” he adds quickly.  “I know you wouldn’t.  But there’s still a part of me that . . . thinks you might.”

They sit in silence a moment and Armin takes a few deep breaths.  “I . . . I’ve always been . . . different . . . than other people,” he begins, deciding he might as well take it in parts.  “I never really knew what it was.  And it wasn’t necessarily a conscious recognition either.  But as I got older . . . I realized that . . . not everyone was like me.  That I was the outcast in a whole world of other people.  When I was young, it never really hit me.  But recently, I’ve been thinking it over and . . . I’ve kinda been denying it my whole life, but I’ve realized I have to come to terms with it one way or another.  And . . . I uh . . . .”

He meets emerald eyes and swallows.  “I’m . . . I’m gay.”

Saying the words aloud gives him validation of how absolutely true they are.  Eren gives a brief nod, as if he isn’t sure if there’s more Armin’s going to say, but after a few moments of silence, he gives a small reassuring smile.  “Okay,” he says and Armin rolls his eyes fondly, feeling a bit lighter with that off his chest.  “That’s all you’re going to say?” he jokes and Eren grins.  “No, I wasn’t done.  But seriously, I’m not upset.  I’m glad you told me.  That takes a lot of courage and . . . thank you.  For trusting me.”

He feels his heart leap and sends him a soft smile.  “You’re welcome.”

There’s a moment of silence and acceptance before Eren breaks it.  “But, uh, if you don’t mind me asking,” he says and his tone is light with an intimation of a question that Armin isn’t sure he wants to hear right now.  “Is there any particular reason you decided to tell me?  Is there a, uh . . . .”

He nudges Armin with his shoulder, inadvertently sending shock waves through his body.  “There a guy you like?”

They giggle at the childish situation and Armin’s lips move for him.  “Maybe.”

He hadn’t meant to say it.  And now that he has, he wishes he didn’t exist.  His face flushes bright red, but Eren doesn’t seem to notice.  “Really?!  Oh my god, who is it?!  Tell me!” he says excitedly and Armin can’t help giggling at his exuberance.  “I uh . . . I dunno . . . .”

“Oh come on, Min!  I won’t judge, I swear!  Unless it’s Jean.  Then I’ll definitely judge.”

He laughs and thinks it’s interesting that Jean is his first guess.  “Ew, no!  I would judge myself if that ever happened.”

“Marco?  Connie?”

“You’re really gonna do this to me?”

“Please?”

They go back and forth in the gentle breeze of the fan for quite some time before Eren pouts.  “You won’t tell me?”

“I mean . . . it’s kind of . . . I dunno, weird.”

“Alright, well, can you at least tell me about him?  Anything.”

“Um . . . what do you want to know?”

“Is he tall?”

“I . . . guess?  He’s taller than me, so . . . .”

“Is he hot?”

Armin laughs at this.  “What — it’s a genuine question!” Eren giggles in retaliation and something like mock offense.  He tucks his hair nervously behind his ear.  “I mean . . . I think he is . . . .”

He blushes profusely and Eren just grins.  “What’s your favorite thing about him?”

Armin has to take a moment.  He’s never really thought it through.  “I — just . . . everything,” he says and when Eren doesn’t snort at the cheesiness, he continues, partly to Eren, partly to himself.  “He’s funny, he’s kind — he seems kinda intimidating on the outside, but once you get to know him, he’s got the biggest heart in the world.  I love his smile, his laugh, his eyes. . . .  And he’s good to me.  I mean, he treats me like I mean the world to him.  Which I probably don’t.  We are friends and all, but I don’t think he feels the same way about me as I do for him.”

“You never know,” Eren says and Armin looks up to see a spark in his eyes that makes his breath hitch, his heart flipping with the implication he might be detecting in his voice.  “Maybe he secretly likes you too.”

There’s no way.  He isn’t implying anything, Armin’s just getting his hopes up.  He looks at Eren a moment and he holds the contact before the boy shakes his head and lets out a sigh.  “No, I don’t think so.  He’s incredible — he doesn’t deserve me.  He’s straight anyways.  He could have any girl he wanted, why would he settle for someone like me?”

Though his question is rhetorical, Eren answers it anyways.  “Well, believe it or not, you’re pretty damn amazing.”

He feels his cheeks flush and Eren shuffles even closer, just a step over the line between casual and intimate.  “And if he’s smart, he likes you back and he won’t be settling for anything.”

Once again there’s a hint in his tone that suggests he knows exactly who Armin’s talking about, but that’s impossible.  “Do you ever . . . think about him?  Dream about him?” he asks and the question is both innocent and verging on suggestive.  Armin feels his breath hitch and he lets it out shakily, simultaneously loving and hating the proximity between them.  “I . . . I think about him all the time.  Dreams too.  Mostly they’re sweet dreams — about him holding my hand, asking me out, taking me on a date, . . . kissing me . . . ,” he trails off, allowing himself to quickly glance at Eren’s lips and mentally scolds himself for being so stupid.  He swears he sees emerald eyes do the same to him and swallows in something like nerves and anticipation.  “That was always the one thing I wanted to do with him.  More than anything else.”

Emerald eyes flit between his own before he mutters, just above a whisper, “Then do it.”

It’s the tone in his voice that lets Armin know he’s caught on.  He’s known Eren long enough to be able to detect even the most subtle of hints in his voice that can tell him exactly what he means.  And this time, he flushes profusely, his tongue darting out to quickly lick his lips.  His heart is pounding almost painfully in his chest and he can feel himself trembling as he inches closer to Eren.  He doesn’t do anything, just sits there with silent, knowing eyes, and Armin suddenly fears that maybe he doesn’t know Eren so well after all.  That maybe those little tones of voice he thought he knew so well are actually not anything to go on.  But he’s gotten an open invitation, whether or not it’s meant for this specific situation, and Eren’s lips are so tantalizingly close that he can’t control himself any longer.  Without any further hesitation, he leans the rest of the way forwards and gently presses his lips to Eren’s.  The touch is almost unnoticeable it’s so delicate, but it sends a spark through him all the same.  After a few moments, he pulls away, lifting his lashes to stare into emerald eyes.  He just looks at him, silent, unmoving, and Armin really thinks he’s messed up.  But then he gives him that lopsided smile he loves before capturing his lips again, this time with a bit more certainty.

Armin feels electricity rush through him, all the way to his fingertips where it fades into numbness.  His brain goes fuzzy and all he can register is Eren and the way their lips move together perfectly.  Like they were made for each other.  They set a slow pace and everytime they pull away, they come back again — softly, gently, and Armin absolutely melts.  He feels Eren’s hands settle on his waist, pulling him forwards ever so slightly, and he can’t help reaching up to chocolate hair, lightly mussed and sticky with humidity.  Part of him begins to doubt this is actually happening — that the thing he’s dreamed about for years is finally coming true.  But Eren’s hands are tangible against his skin and for once, he ignores the heat burning under his touch.  This is too incredible for him to care.

He makes a humiliating sound, something between a sigh and a whimper, as their movements become quicker.  It’s only a slight change, but Armin’s suddenly breathless, trying to keep up with the pace Eren’s setting.  He feels his tongue lightly sweep the seam of his mouth and he gently parts his lips to let it inside to meet his own with a scorching heat.  It isn’t rushed or sloppy — although Armin can feel something like desperation beginning to burn somewhere in his gut.  The dance of their mouths and added heat of their proximity is a bit inexperienced and thus a bit awkward, but only slightly — and either way, it wouldn’t matter.  It wouldn’t be able to mask the pure exhilaration that the tenderness of the kiss brings.  It’s a momentary eternity before they pull away, faces flush, breathing ragged.  Eren’s hands are still firm on his hips and he twists his fingers in the front of his shirt, simultaneously knowing this is a good place to stop and not really wanting to.  Now that he’s had a taste, he’s immediately addicted.

Eren gives him that lopsided smile that makes his heart flutter and tackles him in a bear hug, falling back on the mattress.  Armin can’t help giggling, returning the embrace and burying his face into the front of his shirt despite the summer warmth.  They lay there a moment, trying to fight off the growing heat between them where their skin is pressed together.  “So it’s me, huh?” Eren speaks up and Armin grins into the fabric of his t-shirt.  “Wasn’t that obvious?”

Although he can’t see him, he knows Eren is smiling.  “Armin Arlert likes me.”

“Eren, we literally just kissed.”

“And, if you don’t mind, I’d like to continue doing so for as long a humanly possible.”

Armin raises his head and looks at Eren with mirth in his eyes.  “Is this your way of asking me out?”

“Sort of?”

He giggles and falls back into the comfort of Eren’s arms.  “Is that how I asked you in your dreams?”

“No.  It was a bit more romantic than that.”

“What, like, ‘Armin Arlert, would you please do me the honor of becoming my boyfriend?’”

“Something like that.”

“Wow, I sound so cheesy in your dreams.”

He laughs again, pulling slightly away from Eren despite not wanting to to escape the discomfort his body heat is bringing.  “Where did we go?  For our first date?”

Part of him wants to laugh and he manages a soft chuckle before replying with a grin, “The ocean.”

“We’re going tomorrow.”

“Eren, you can’t drive.”

“I’ll find another way.”

He presses a warm kiss to the top of his head before laying back on the sheets in a more comfortable position.  Armin smiles softly and feels his eyelids become suddenly heavy with humidity and exhaustion.  He lets out a quiet yawn that Eren makes some sort of remark about, but he’s verging on unconscious and isn’t hearing too clearly.  The last thing he registers is Eren kissing him softly on the head again before he falls into the loving embrace of sleep.

[choiceslife]

When Worlds Collide: Part One (Limited Series)

Disclaimer: Based upon characters in Choices - Endless Summer, It Lives in the Woods, The Royal Romance, #LoveHacks, Home for the Holidays and ?? series. All characters presented are the property of Pixelberry Studios. I claim no ownership. This story is purely the work of the poster as fanfiction.

Overall Series Rating: 18+ (NSFW)

Warnings: Adult Language, Adult Content, Sexual Discussions. Future chapters may contain SMUT and Gratuitous Sexual Descriptions

Overall Series Summary: The sisters are together again and Ava Cunningham believes only they can help her.

Author’s Note: This Limited Series is a companion/sequel to Divided By Circumstance. I suggest you at least read that series in order to understand this one. As with most of my stories, this is a crossover and is part of my interconnected Chromatic AU. My MC’s are as follows: Carrissa Monroe (TRR), Abby Bennett (#LH), Scarlett Joy (HFTH), and Taylor Reed (ES). There will be an End Note following this chapter.

Tag List: @brightpinkpeppercorn @mysteli @cinnamonroll-duffy @darley1101 @debramcg1106 @katurrade @ladynonsense @luxurylives @regrettingnathan @akrenich @teamtomsato @riseandshinelittleblossom @kinkykingliam @jlouise88 @kenjikatsoros @eileendannie @marshmallow-ortega @littlecrookedheart @i-choose-liam @boneandfur @bobasheebaby @tmarie82 @walkerismychoice @europeanguy @pixieferry @sstee1 @3pawandme

This is very much sensitive content and NSFW. You have been warned.

***

Louisiana - Somewhere

Barely 8am and the rural Louisiana heat was quite high for this late in the fall. But Jake McKenzie didn’t mind. He preferred warm weather over anything remotely cold. There was just something about being able to go outside and let the sun’s rays soak into your skin that Jake enjoyed. Sure, he’d been to places with colder climates and had a good time, but he found the process of bundling up to be rather annoying.

Plus, he wouldn’t be able to go for his routine run outdoors if he lived some place with colder weather. He’d be trapped inside on a treadmill at one of those cookie cutter, corporate gyms that he despised. World Fitness. Jake tried it out once during a free trial weekend. It sucked. He much preferred the makeshift gym in his garage and the ability to jog without worrying about a time limit because the place was stuffed to the rafters with people. Too many people. This eventually led to several other patrons always waiting to use the machines.

But running outdoors on his own time, without anyone else around, was much more in his comfort zone. Just him and nature. And running outside meant that Jake didn’t need headphones to tune out unwanted distractions. He was able to run freely with his own thoughts and nothing else.

The repeated ‘thwap thwap’ sound of Jake’s worn sneakers ricocheting off the pavement always brought a soothing calm to his mind. He could usually tell from the repetitious noise just how close he was to meeting the Navy required time for a mile and a half run - 16 minutes 10 seconds - the new maximum time allowed. In his prime, Jake could easily best that time with a 6 minute mile pace, but nowadays he’d be lucky to run a mile in under ten minutes.

Gotta ease up on all the beers, Hotness Jake imagined Taylor saying to him playfully as he wiped his brow with the back of his hand. The sweat had matted his shaggy brown hair to his head and periodically a rogue drop would try to course its way towards Jake’s eye. Burning eyes while running wouldn’t feel good at all. The sweat running down his bare chest and what was left of his abs, however, felt great. Particularly because of the heat. Whenever a brief breeze did blow, his body would get a momentary reprieve from the humid feeling with a slight cooling effect.

As Jake crested a slight hill in the road, he noticed a car parked along the side of the pavement well off in the distance. It was a pretty unusual sight as his chosen running route was a very desolate, practically abandoned, stretch of highway. Jake couldn’t remember the last time he saw a vehicle that wasn’t his truck or Old Man Crabbypant’s rust-covered Cadillac.

___

“I think I see him. Shaggy brown hair. Average height. Crooked smile.”

“That’s him. That’s Jake McKenzie,” Ava said as she slammed the trunk of the car. “Quick, hide the binoculars and take off your shirt.”

“What? Why?”

“Dan Pierce!” Ava snapped. “Don’t question me! Just do it!”

“This is ridiculous,” Dan replied as he tossed the binoculars into the back seat of the rental car and slipped his tight blue t-shirt off. He kept muttering to himself as he moved to the front of the car and set the hood open to rest on the prop rod.

“He’s a lonely man, yet he ignored every person that approached him at the bar when I was observing last night. I just need something to entice him to stop and chat. Now stop complaining and work what your momma gave ya Dan. And pretend I’m not here.” Ava quickly made her way down the slight embankment off the side of the road and crouched down out of site.

“How do you know he’s lonely?”

“Hush. Pretend to be inspecting the engine. Pull out one of those hose thingys.”

“But...”

Ava shushed her friend again and flicked her hands in agitation towards the front of the car. A small trail of white smoke began to creep up from the engine bay startling Dan.

___

Jake slowed his pace as he approached the stopped car, taking in the beautifully sculpted masculine sight before him. The shirtless, mop topped brunette’s hands were firmly planted on the front of the car, supporting him as he peered over the engine. His well defined back muscles flexed slightly with each shifting movement as he inspected the disabled vehicle. Jake couldn’t help, but to admire the man’s broad shoulders that tapered to a trim waist with lower back dimples. Taylor had those as well and Jake was such a sucker for a man with them. He continued to drink in the gorgeous backside before him. Tight dark blue jeans situated low on the hips accentuating a cute, bubbled behind elicited a mild gasp as Jake’s jog shifted to a walk. He’s still not Taylor. As he approached, Jake placed both hands onto his hips as he took deep gulps of air in an effort to regulate and normalize his breathing. “Everything okay?”

From the side of the road, Ava watched as Jake strolled his slim, taut frame beside Dan. Now she just needed her friend to lull the fit recluse into a friendly conversation so that he’d let his guard down and she could have a much needed chat with him. Ava had hoped to talk to Jake the night before, but he was clearly giving off a vibe that said ‘Fuck Off’ to everyone. So Ava decided to go with Plan B: Shirtless Dan Pierce beside a ‘broken down’ car. And it seemed to be working.

___

Although Dan had seen Jake through the binoculars earlier, he hadn’t expected him to be as attractive as he was up close and personal. Dan couldn’t help his eyes wandering all over the jogger’s body. From his tantalizing and inviting blue eyes to the way his lopsided grin showcased his kissable lips; Jake was more man than Dan expected. “Not sure. It started to smoke and then just quit.” Dan’s eyes continued to wander down Jake’s body following his white lie, admiring the way the sun glinted off of his sweat laced chest and how his matted blue shorts hugged high and tight to his muscular thighs leaving almost nothing to the imagination.

“Mind if I take a look?”

“Not at all.” Dan stepped to the side allowing Jake to inspect the car’s motor to see what the problem might be. He glanced towards where Ava had been hiding, but she waved him off to pay attention to Jake. Dan returned his eyes to the man beside him, noticing the strength and definition in his body. “You’re hot,” he reflexively said; his eyes going wide the moment he realized that his comment was out loud and not in his head. “I mean, you look hot...like... hot like you need a drink. Do you want a water?”

Jake flashed a wry smile at the man’s moment of fluster. Still got it Jake. “Sure. A water would be nice.”

“K. I think we got some in the trunk.”

“We?”

Shit! Dan’s face immediately flushed with worry. He caught me. He knows. He fucking knows. “I. I’ve got some in the trunk. I have no idea why I said ‘we.’” Dan’s voice cracked as he nervously laughed. He made his way to the back of the car, hoping that Jake wouldn’t challenge his lie. Dan reached into the soft Coleman cooler and yanked a bottle of ice cold water from its depths. He closed the trunk and jumped back in surprise. The former pilot was standing near the driver’s side rear door with his arms folded across his chest. “Jesus Jake. You scared me. I didn’t hear you walk over.”

“How’d you know my name is Jake?”

___

Damn it Dan. Ava watched as her friend got flustered after Jake caught him in his faux pas. She couldn’t hide any longer. As much as Ava had hoped to get Jake to let his guard down before she broached the difficult subject of his lost love, she couldn’t let her friend Dan suffer Jake’s questioning on his own. “Wait Jake. I can explain everything,” Ava confessed as she made her way up the embankment towards the two shirtless gentlemen.

Jake took in the towering woman approaching him and the attractive stranger. She wore her hair in a beautifully braided style with several streaks of pink throughout. Her clothes looked like the latest in goth fashion from Hot Topic and no doubt many people lumped her into the goth chick category. But Jake knew better. He knew a witch when he saw one. “Who are you? Who is this guy? And what do you want?”

“My name is Ava Cunningham. That’s my friend Dan Pierce. And we both just want to help you, Jake.”

“You want to help me? You don’t even know me, Hermione. You think having some Handsome Guy chat me up means I’ll let you use your witchcraft to get into my head and poke around?” Jake saw the confusion on Ava’s face as she processed his words. “Yeah, I know you’re some kinda witch. Not the first one I’ve come upon in my life. You and Sexy Mop Top here can go back to Hogwarts and leave me alone.” Jake turned to leave the two young strangers, hoping he wouldn’t have to resort to other unpleasant means to get them to leave.

“How’d you know I was a witch?” Ava asked before Jake could even take two steps. She watched him pause in his tracks for a moment as if he was contemplating his thoughts.

Jake smiled to himself, his back facing Ava and Dan. So I was right. He loved when he read people correctly. Jake turned around, gesturing towards the front of the car as he did. “The engine. Nothing was loose or cracked. No obvious signs of damage, yet there was smoke coming from the bay. Growing up in Louisiana, you come to learn those parlor tricks. Also, there’s still a faint amount of smoke emanating from the palm of your right hand.” The instant Jake pointed out her tell, Ava looked down and clenched her fist extinguishing the last of the embers. “Next time Hermoine, just lead with the magic tricks. People love them.”

“But you’re not most people, Jake! I know what you’ve been through and...”

“You don’t know anything!” Jake whirled around to leave again; his face red with rage.

“Stuck in a time loop on a tropical island. Battling sea monsters and giant crabs. Fending off your old boss from Arachnid. But it wasn’t all bad. You helped protect a bunch of scared college kids. Reunited with your friend you thought was dead. Married the love of your life.” Ava watched Jake’s shoulders slowly rock up and down. She couldn’t tell if he was getting more agitated by her words or if she was getting through his gruff exterior and he was finally listening. “I know what Taylor means to you Jake. And I think I know a way to get him back.”

Jake took a few paces towards the front of the car. He dropped the prop rod and slammed the hood. “Screw the magic tricks. Next time lead with that.” Jake pointed to a smiling Ava and a confused Dan, “Get in the car. I’m driving.”

Rarely one to show genuine excitement, Ava giddily ran over to get into the front passenger seat beside Jake, while Dan remained glued in place behind the car. “So, can I put my shirt back on now?”

___

“So you’re telling me the Queen of Corona, some life-style blogger, and an editor are the most powerful witches in the world? And they don’t know it?” Jake plopped down onto the old couch in his living room, running a hand through his sweat dampened hair, before twisting open the water bottle Dan hand been intending to give him earlier. He gulped down about half of the refreshing liquid, letting out an exaggerated sigh of satisfaction when he was done.

“Cordonia,” Ava corrected, leaning against the door jamb that separated the kitchen from the living room. “And I know it sounds ridiculous...”

“It sounded like a joke when she told me. Which is crazy cuz I believed her when she told me about our friends battling moss creatures during the Homecoming dance senior year,” Dan interrupted. He pulled up a seat on the overstuffed leather chair across from Jake. The chair had seen better days, but damn was it comfortable. “An editor, a blogger, and a queen walk into a bar...” Dan chuckled softly, quite pleased with his humorous quip.

Ava rolled her eyes at her friend. “Weren’t you wanting to put your shirt back on Dan? I’m sure it’s still in the car if you wanna go get it and I’ll speak with Jake.”

“I’m good. It’s hotter in his house than it is outside.”

Jake flashed his award winning grin - Pearl River High School’s Mr. Bayou three years in a row. He swept the swimsuit and athletic events each time he won. Jake didn’t mind if Dan remained shirtless. He could appreciate the man’s appeal, but Jake’s heart belonged to Taylor and he was intrigued to know how Ava intended to bring him back. “He’s fine Hermoine. And I don’t think it sounds ridiculous at all. The things I’ve experienced on La Huerta; whatever Sexy Mop Top was talking about... I believe you.”

“Thanks Jake.”

“Hell, you could tell me that vampires roam New York and a robot is dating President Thompson and I’d believe you.” Jake finished the rest of his water and got up from the couch. He looked back and forth between Ava and Dan. “What I don’t believe is how you’ll be able to convince those sisters of who they really are, let alone get close enough to them to even try.”

Ava just stood silent. She didn’t have an answer for him as to how they would accomplish that feat. A few of her friends were in New York with her girlfriend, Stacy, working on a plan, but she hadn’t received an update on their progress. Ava watched as Jake excused himself from the room to finally go wash off the grime from his run. “Have you heard from Stacy, Lucas, or Cade yet?” Dan shook his head, giving Ava a brief moment of stress before she collected herself again. “Guess we’ll have to go New York and figure it out together.”

___

From within a living room mirror, Donovan Bailey observed Ava take a seat across from Dan. “The sisters are in New York,” he said turning to his friend, Shreya.

“I’ll tell the others and see if they can get a lock on their location.” Shreya quickly vanished leaving Donovan alone to continue keeping an eye on Ava Cunningham. While she wasn’t naturally attuned like Donovan and his friends, the magic world had become aware of her developing powers. After all, it wasn’t every day that a mortal human learned to harness powerful magic on her own.

***

End Note: Donovan Bailey is the name of my MC in The Elementalists. In regards to Endless Summer, I went with the third ending so this story takes place roughly a year after MC disappeared to save the others and free them from La Huerta.

[forkanna]

[AO3 LINK] [EF LINK]

The next day, between second and third period, Anna managed to find Elsa by the water fountain and pulled her off to one side. She just had to know what she thought of their little 'blind date' the evening before.

It was slightly less favourable than Anna had hoped for.

"It was a date?" Elsa hissed, looking around to make sure they were truly alone. "Tori, you already know…" The way she trailed off, there was no need to specify what she meant. It took Anna a moment to respond.

"Oh, well. You know. Hanging. Where- where I come from 'date' doesn't necessarily mean romantic…" She almost winced at how terrible the lie was; Elsa's eyes narrowed, scrutinising her, but she didn't remark on it. Slowly, her anger dissipated.

"Look, Kristoff is very nice, and I really appreciate the gift he brought." Here, she gave Anna a meaningful look, which Anna stoically ignored. "I'll be honest, I wasn't really expecting anything like, mega interesting. He's kind of a dweeb." She gave a smile, trying to take the sting out of her words. Perhaps it had something to do with the revelation the previous night, the fact that Anna was still on the slow march to fading away, just like her brother, but she couldn't see the funny side.

"Elsa… I'm sorry to tell you this, but you fangirled with him for like an hour about sci-fi fanfiction. If he's a dweeb, what does that make you?"

"Fan- whatever. Tori, I'm already called names, and I hate it. Do you know how much worse it'll be if I'm seen hanging around him too much?" Her eyes were wide, and Anna had been about to judge her… when she came to a sudden and unwelcome realisation that this was high school in the 80s. Appearances were everything. But despite that, she couldn't help the way her heart sunk. Sure, Kristoff wasn't perfect, but he was kind. A trait that seemed to be in especially short supply.

"Wow. I just- wow, Elsa." Shaking her head, she looked away. "I can't believe that you'd throw away a good friend just because some other people suck. Yeah, sure, you're called names. Names that, as far as any of the people here know, have zero truth. I thought you were better than them, but maybe you're not. It shouldn't even matter anyway!"

"Tori-" Elsa reached a hand out, an attempt at placating Anna, but she was too annoyed for it to have any effect.

"No!" she cried, jerking backwards further. "That- what you just said there, that's a terrible thing to say. I think Kristoff is a great guy – he was scared because he thought you were way out of his league. I think he was wrong. I think he's out of your league."

And with that, she turned around and stormed off, angry tears brimming. How could Elsa think that? How could she let peer pressure stop her from acknowledging another human being?! Before she could get too far, she felt a hand tap her on the shoulder. Turning around, she tried to hide how upset she was, half-expecting it to be Elsa. But it wasn't.

"Kristoff?"

"Hi." It was a simple greeting, and he said it with a simple smile. She was also happy to see that he was wearing the shirt with the palm tree, and he looked freshly scrubbed, hair slicked back again. It was less shiny than she'd come to expect, and it really did wonders for his appearance.

"O-oh. Hey."

"Just wanted to thank you for yesterday… you know, introducing us. I didn't think… well, actually having a chance to talk to her, and it going that well! It was like some kind of weird fever dream." He gave her a look, and he could probably tell that she'd been upset about something, but he chose not to comment.

It gave her a chance to pull together a small smile, anyway. "Hey, no big." When he squinted, she added, "Deal. No big deal."

"Good. Um… so, did she say anything about me? Probably not."

"Now, now, don't go back down the negativity slide into the ballpit of sadness." Sighing, she glanced over in the direction she had left her mother-slash-friend. "Well… she did say that you're nice, and interesting." She had, technically, even if all of that was wrapped around some disappointing superficiality.

"No WAY." Sputtering with slight disbelief, he glanced back toward where Elsa was talking to her friends. Anna thought she looked a little less chipper than she had before they spoke, but she decided not to focus on that for now. "That's… wow, I can't thank you enough! Could never have done any of this without your help."

"You don't have to. I mean, paying me back that forty bucks would be great, but it's seriously no trouble."

Smiling, he hesitated, then offered his hand to shake. "Thanks, um… what was your name again?"

"Anna McF-" At the last second, she managed to cut herself off. She really needed to get a better jump on stuff like this! "Tori. Um… Tori Spelling."

What a dumb pseudonym to pick; it was the first surname that came to mind. Lucky for her, nobody would know who the hell that was for another five-plus years.

"Tori. Well, I gotta get to the library before class, so I'll… see you around?" Giving a small smile, he turned around, offering a wave over his shoulder.

Once she was alone, Elsa began to break off from her clique and head her way. Anna wanted to bolt, but she also didn't want to be petty; in the long run, this wasn't that big of a deal. Just disappointing. And Elsa was fully aware of that, it seemed. She approached slowly, a contrite look on her face. Good. Hopefully she knew why what she'd said had been so bad.

"Tori, can we talk, please?" Elsa asked. Anna looked at her for a moment. She really did look sorry, so letting out a sigh, she nodded.

"Sure. What's up?"

Glancing away, Elsa ran a hand through her hair. "I'm sorry. I know Kristoff is your friend and I shouldn't have put him down."

"No, you shouldn't have." Anna's words were sharp, and Elsa visibly winced. Grimacing to herself, Anna continued, "But thank you for apologising."

At last, Elsa smiled. The wounded-puppy look lessened, and her eye shone. A look came across her face, and she glanced away again, fiddling with the hem of her shirt. "Did- did you mean what you said? That he thinks I'm out of his league?"

At that, Anna gave a small snort, anger dissipating. "Have you ever looked in the mirror? He's got eyes, you know." Elsa's cheeks filled with colour at the compliment, her mouth drawing into a small 'o'. "But I also meant what I said. If- if you hadn't come and apologised, if you hadn't realised how terrible a thing you said was… he would be out of your league. Because he's nice, and he deserves nice people."

Elsa nodded soberly. "I understand. Maybe I was wrong about him. He was polite and friendly yesterday, and he certainly looked good. Honestly, I thought he was kinda dweeby, but I guess I just…" she trailed off.

"Just what?" Anna wasn't going to let her get away with not talking – especially if she was going to say something nice about Kristoff.

"I guess I judged him before I knew him. Which… is what everyone does about me, so that's pretty unfair coming from me especially. Don't know why I did it."

"I think you should tell him that," Anna said. "You nerded out hardcore yesterday, and I mean, more friends is always great." Not to mention the fact that Elsa's friends didn't seem like the "BFF" kind of girls; despite Elsa being the leader of their little clique, she didn't seem particularly close with either of them.

For a moment, her mother simply nodded. Then she shook her head and smiled. "I 'nerded out hardcore,' huh? Geez, you have such a mondo bizarro way of talking sometimes."

"I know, I'm pretty extra."

"Extra what?"

"Extra weird," she sighed, knowing she had done it again and finding it hard to care.

"Oh." Clearing her throat, she then went on, "So listen… I'm kind of out of money, and I know this is a little early, but do you want to just grab a milkshake after school today? My treat, to make up for being a bitch just now."

Anna pondered that. The more chances she had to hang out with her parents, the more likely she would be to positively influence the situation. "Kristoff, too?"

"Kristoff, too," she relented. "And I promise I'll ask Jazz and Ariel not to give him such a hard time."

"Sweet. I mean, um, radical."

Impulsively, Elsa leaned in to give her a brief squeeze, then skipped away down the hall to class, already close to late. Anna tried not to think about how much that scent penetrated her every time they hugged. Tried to push it out of her mind and only worry about her future. What they were going to do if she somehow failed to get them to like each other.

"I really don't want to be in charge of all this," she muttered to herself as she wandered off to the bathroom to hide during first period. "Can I call in sick?"

Fortunately for her, the day did get better. She didn't see Hans at all, and for the second time in a row, no one seemed to realise that she didn't belong. She actually fell asleep in the loo, and was a little late to lunch. Not expecting anything, she got a nice surprise when Elsa and Kristoff were already siting at the same table. They weren't saying much – Kristoff probably too nervous, and Elsa, well… her reasons were anyone's guess, but Anna had a feeling it had to do with their conversation earlier. Her friends were also there; did she not want to engage as much so they wouldn't think she was a dweeb?

But still, she was trying. There was some idle chatter – mostly about classes and homework – but nothing of any substance. Well, that had to change.

Based on that, she actually took her time getting her food, hanging back and watching them. As Doc had mentioned, Kristoff needed to be the better option, and being more available was part of that, right? Elsa could get to know him better and see that they had things in common more if Anna weren't there to distract her.

But damn, do I wish I wasn't a distraction in the first place, she thought to herself as she finally did join them. Almost five minutes had been wasted as she let her food get cold, hanging back with her tray.

"Hey there, slowpoke," Elsa tittered.

"I'm more of a Slowbro," she joked – and almost facepalmed. "Not… that you'll have any idea what I mean. Anyway, how's everybody?"

"Gnarly," Ariel sighed, examining her cuticles and trying to push them back slightly with the tines of her fork. Anna winced; that seemed unwise, and painful.

"I'd be doing better if he would notice me," Jazz sighed as she looked over at another table, three away from theirs. A tall, dark-skinned boy was laughing and chatting with Hans and his crew; he didn't seem to be part of that particular clique, but they were clearly all on some sports team or other together.

"Maybe you're better off if he's friends with that meathead," Anna observed. But when Jazz frowned, she quickly added, "But what do I know? You aren't always the company you keep."

Ariel scoffed as she moved back to picking at her salad. "I agree with the new girl. Like, why hasn't he made a move on Jazz? She's cute, and has way more going for her than that big ox."

"Nah, Al's alright. Kind of cocky sometimes, but he's not like Tannen or those other guys." They all turned to Kristoff at once. He seemed not to realise for a second, and only after a moment did the three sets of eyes on him seem to make a difference. His head sank down between his shoulders, but Elsa nudged him with her elbow. "What?"

"Go on. What else do you know? Inside scoop from the boy's bathrooms?"

"O-oh, well, I don't really hear much," he said, trying and failing to get out of the situation. "Unless they don't know I'm there. But Al seems decent enough. He hasn't gotten to Tori's level of 'standing up for people'–" Here he shot Anna a smile and she forced one back. 'Don't remind Elsa that I exist,' she thought furiously, 'don't take the focus off yourself! "–but he doesn't jump in with Hans' bullying."

"And Hans lets him get away with that?" Elsa asked, curious. Kristoff shrugged. "I thought it was Tannen's Law around here."

"Al's the swiftest forward in the whole state," he explained – even if Jazz and Ariel only exchanged shrugs at that information. "And Hans is only as popular as he is because the team does so well. He wouldn't risk that by messing with Al too much."

Jazz sighed, still looking over there. "Pity this isn't a Sadie Hawkins," she said. "At this rate, he's never going to ask me…"

The entire table looked over to the other one, and sure enough, Al was watching Jazz. At least he looked interested. But then something clicked.

"Wait, there's a dance coming up?" Anna asked. Everyone turned to look back at her. She felt very silly.

"Geez, what school have you been hanging around, Tori?" Elsa asked, mouth curled in a smile. "This Saturday is the Enchantment Under the Sea dance. It's only, like, the biggest event of the year."

Anna wasn't quite sure that she believed that, but she let it go. "I mean, I knew there was a dance," she fumbled – and technically it was true. "I just- I didn't realise it was this weekend."

"Well, welcome to the Eighties," Ariel said with a little snort.

Anna barely heard her. The dance was this weekend. Kristoff had only a few more days to pluck up the courage to ask Elsa – Anna only had a few more days of meddling. Sure, she knew she was leaving soon – there was no getting around a one-off lightning strike – but she'd hoped for her parents to have more time together first. No wonder John was fading so fast; she was woefully behind schedule.

At least now she saw her plan of attack. If only she could figure out the details, all hope might not be lost.

                                                          ~ o ~

That night, after a very casual "Sorry I have some chores to do" that excused her from joining them at the diner, Anna raced back to the house and enlisted Doc's help in rigging up a costume and filming something on her phone – eating through her precious battery power, which she had realised was going to run out a long time before she made it back to 2015 and could find a micro USB cable. For some reason, Doc didn't have a charger in the DeLorean. She'd be sure to yell at him about that… if she actually found him alive and well when she saw his future version again.

Then she snuck into Kristoff's house, grateful for the first time in forever that he insisted on pointing it out to his kids every time they were in the neighbourhood. It was easy to locate his room, and she gently placed a hastily-folded cardboard contraption over his sleeping head, essentially suspending the phone right in front of his eyes. One spilled glass of water later, he was awake and upright. All he could see was darkness… and the image of Doc in a strange costume.

"Greetings, Earthling! This is Hoban Washburne, from planet Naboo! You have a very special mission!"

Luckily, he did make it to the end of the mission – and the accompanying threat – before he passed out. Satisfied, Anna slipped the makeshift device off and crept back out his window and away into the night.

Now she was leaning on the brick wall outside Lou's, watching her dad jog up to her, all out of breath and frazzled. Lou's was a little more crowded now than it would have been twenty-four hours ago; students were crammed into the corner with the arcade machines, purely because the actual arcade was in the mall, which was a lot further away from the square. Plus, it was probably even busier than Lou's by that point.

The moment he noticed her, Kristoff made a beeline for her instead of the door. "Tori!" he hissed as soon as he got close. His eyes shifted left and right, and he got really close. Anna almost commented on his complete disregard for personal space, but decided against it. He looked pretty wigged out, and also… was that soap she could smell?

"Sup, dude?"

Blowing right past her greeting, he hissed, "Listen, you- we're friends, right?" Anna nodded. "Okay, so that means if I say something crazy, you won't laugh at me?" His big brown eyes were pleading, and he looked so confused. She hoped she didn't mess him up for life…

Once more, she nodded. "'Course I won't." Despite the assurance, it still took him a few moments to gather himself. He kept glancing around, and wasn't completely happy until he'd taken her arm and guided her further away from the general hub-bub of the café.

"Last night, I was sleeping, right? And then this cold feeling woke me up, a-and I couldn't see anything at all. Like there was a box on my head? And it sounds crazy, but in the box there was a tiny screen. Like, just the right size to fill my whole vision! And there was a dude on the screen who told me I had to invite Elsa to the dance!"

Anna had to bite back a smile; not because she wanted to laugh at him, but because she had been afraid that her plan wouldn't work, or that Kristoff would simply see through the ruse. She knew, of course, that technology of the future was different, but seeing how he reacted to it was interesting.

"Oh wow, that- that sounds pretty rad. Like there's someone watching over you. Like a guardian angel!"

But Kristoff was shaking his head, not looking nearly as happy as she felt he should be. "Tori, I- Why would he do that? How did he know? Sure, I really like her. And maybe we're friends now – at least she doesn't hate me. But if I ask her to this dance and she says no, I'll lose even that."

"Hey, no, you can't think that way. Don't be a nice guy."

"What? I shouldn't be nice?"

Crap – 'Nice Guy' didn't mean the same thing in 1985 that she meant it to. "I mean, DO be a nice guy, but… like…" Sighing, she forced herself to start over. "This is just one dance. And she's your friend! Start there. Don't buy into all that hype that if she turns you down, you're in the 'friendzone', that's not a real thing."

"I've never even heard of that thing," he mumbled, though he seemed to be too distracted by everything else she had said. "So you're saying… it doesn't matter if she says she doesn't want to go with me… it just means that we're still friends? And maybe she would wanna be more later, but don't push it?"

"Exactly. Maybe she will, maybe she won't. But like, being 'just friends' with a girl who likes to talk about science fiction is better than not talking to her at all, right? Girls are people, too."

That last phrase seemed to do it. He had already been listening intently, but that made sense to him. "You're right. We're all just carbon-based life forms."

"Well… maybe don't say that part to her," Anna muttered. "Not very romantic."

"Okay, okay. But what should I say, then? I… I have no idea how to approach a subject like this, I've never tried before!"

Anna knew what she would say. She's probably say something stupid like, "date me," and she knew that Elsa would maybe say yes because there was definitely interest from her already. But this wasn't about her. Scrunching up her nose, she contemplated for a moment.

"Just… keep it casual. Go up and just tell her how you feel. If you're not comfortable with the whole 'admit your undying love', then don't. But you care about her. And you wanna go to the dance with her. Don't you?"

Kristoff gave a self-deprecating laugh. "Of course I do. She's beautiful, and friendly, and smart, and I feel like I can actually talk to her. I know what everyone around school says about her, and I hate it because I know what they say about me, and it hurts."

"O-oh?"

"Yeah. Geez, why do all the good people get it the worst?"

Anna almost couldn't believe what she was hearing. Kristoff had never given any inclination that he knew much about the politics of the playground – aside from sneakily eavesdropping in the boy's locker room. "You don't… care? About what they say about her?"

Finally, his smile turned outward. It was no longer deprecating; no, now it was full of something else. "I mean… calling people names is cruel, especially ones like that. But if she was, so what? Like you said, we're all carbon-based li- I mean, people."

Anna didn't know what she'd been expecting, but it wasn't that. Suddenly she didn't feel so ashamed of having him as a father. "Kristoff," Anna said, turning her face up at him. "Go get her. Just be this you and I think you're gonna be okay."

Shaking out his limbs, and then slicking his hair back fresh again, he headed inside. Anna snuck in behind him, trying to be unobtrusive as possible as she sat at the bar and nodded for a "Pepsi Free," which seemed to be some weird 80s version of a Diet Pepsi that she'd never heard of in her entire life. She pulled a beanie hat out of her pocket and put it on so nobody would notice her red hair right away.

"Elsa?" Kristoff said as he made it to her table. It was just barely close enough that Anna could hear. "Heyyy… girl…"

Already, she wanted to facepalm. Elsa glanced at her friends, and then back at him. "Uh, hello, Kristoff. How's it hanging?"

"Um, pretty good, pretty good." He was nodding to himself. Anna could have groaned. "Listen… I wanted to… well, y'know…" He was choking. But Ariel coughing seemed to help him get restarted all on his own. "Just wanted to let you know that the past couple of days, hanging out? They've been great. Like, I don't know, I always had this feeling we could be friends if I got past my, um… dorkiness."

"Hey, it's okay," Elsa said in that soothing, motherly tone that made Anna want to sob huge tears of regret. If only she would use that in her own time period! "You know, like… shit happens. Right?"

Scratching the back of his head with a little self-conscious chuckle, he was the picture of an awkward teenage boy. Anna couldn't help smiling to herself. It was okay. Everything was okay. Her mother and father were teens and it was all going to be fine. "Right! Right, yeah, exactly. So anyway, I was wondering if maybe you-"

"HEY, MCFLY!"

Immediately, all the courage Kristoff had worked up dissipated. Anna turned her head, eyes squeezing shut. Of-fucking-course. The whole café went quiet, all eyes turning to the jerk in the jean jacket.

"I thought I told you to never come in here, McFly." Glancing over her shoulder, Anna followed Hans as he moved through the small shop, stepping menacingly towards Kristoff. The space seemed packed, and yet there was more than enough room for people to get out of Hans' way. "I guess you owe us. How much money you got-"

Hans never even got to finish his question. Just as he passed behind Anna's chair, she stuck her heel out. He never stood a chance.

However, given his size and stupidity, Anna hadn't expected him to recover so quickly, either. She'd hopped off her chair, hoping to make a quick escape, when he shot to his feet. She had stood in front of him before but- had he grown taller in the last day-or-so? That wasn't fair! Damn her parents and their short genes!

One of his big meathooks curled into a fist, and Anna decided she didn't want to find out whether or not Hans was okay hitting a woman. So she did the first thing she could think of. In hindsight, it was probably the silliest idea she had during this whole fucking adventure.

Pointing over his shoulder, she cried, "Ahh! What's that?" When he twisted his head to look, almost as if someone else were doing it, suddenly she was socking him straight in the jaw. He went down like an incredibly dense sack of potatoes.

Then she ran for the door. A couple of his goons made a move to catch her, but all she had to do was scream "AAAAHHH!" and they all backed up as if burned. Sometimes being a girl had fringe benefits.

Of course, she had barely made it outside when she heard them coming after her. Hans probably didn't care about hitting girls when no one was watching; he was just that kind of shitbag. So she kept running, toward the courthouse square and angling for a group of students who were all listening to thumping bass from the boombox that was hoisted onto one of their shoulders. It wasn't the music they were carrying that she was particularly interested in, though.

"Hey!" she panted. "Can… can I borrow one of your skateboards?"

"Girl, do you even know who we are?" one of them asked.

"You're the fucking King of Rock – I heard it from the radio just now, okay? But that asshole is gonna…" She couldn't even finish, just turned to glance at where Hans was looking around wildly for her. "Please?!"

"Well…" One of them had barely raised their skateboard before Anna was ripping it out of his hands. "HEY!"

"I'll bring it back!"

Then she was off like a shot. Maybe she wasn't good at very many other things, but this was her domain. It was certainly not Hans', and he knew it. They all clambered into his muscle car and began to give chase, probably breaking about fifty traffic laws in the process. But not only was Anna good at skateboarding, she also knew this town. Sure it had changed a little in the thirty-odd years, but she still knew which side streets went where, including which ones Hans would absolutely not be able to fit down in his souped-up overcompensation.

Unfortunately, so did he. He probably had lots of experience terrorising the neighborhood, which meant that every time Anna thought she'd given him the slip, he just ended up cutting her off again.

Goddammit. She could only hope that Kristoff had recovered his wits while she was keeping Hans occupied and gone on to ask Elsa out; that would at least make all this worthwhile.

Finally, she seemed to have lost him. It was a good ten minutes after she'd first burst through the café doors, and her sides were beginning to hurt from the exertion. Rolling towards the square, she checked behind her. No Hans. Bringing a hand up to wipe at her sweaty bangs, she let out a breath.

Of course, that was the moment that Hans' car burst from another street, almost sideswiping her.

Snatching the back bumper of a passing Jeep, she managed to be pulled down the street at speed, preventing Hans from running her over – probably only because he didn't want to get in trouble with the owner of the other vehicle. But he kept close behind, glaring, waiting for his opportunity. Alas for the bully, Anna saw her own before he did. At the end of the upcoming side street, she saw something that made her grin. All she had to do was keep going forward when the jeep inevitably turned…

So she did. She took off like a rocket, letting go at just the right moment so that she lost very little momentum as the car vanished from their lives, Hans gunning it to run her down.

And then she jumped backward, off the skateboard. If he'd been going any faster than 30mph, she probably would have been flattened, but she was scrawny and scrappy, and her reflexes were still pretty good. She managed to land ass-first on the hood of his convertible sports car, rolling over to grin and wave.

"You stupid SKANK!" he growled, teeth bared at her and looking more menacing than she'd ever seen. "I'll murder you for this!"

"C'mon, Hans!" she cried out, grinning. "You won't have time to murder me! You'll be too busy cleaning this car!"

She waited until he was blinking stupidly up at her before leaping to safety. She was just in time to roll through several bags of trash, coming to a stop fairly close to the skateboard she had borrowed. It wasn't a graceful, cute landing, and she would have the smell of old banana peels on her clothes for hours… but it was nothing compared to the fate that awaited her opponent.

Manure. Thick, rich, grass-fed cow patties, all piled into the back of a truck that unfortunately had an open back gate. Hans and his cronies collided with the open vehicle, launching tender nuggets all over their faces and heads and down into the seats and floorboards. Not to mention the crumpled hood of the car, smoke already beginning to rise from it.

Chuckling to herself, Anna picked herself up out of the trash. Looking around for the group of kids so she could return the skateboard, she became aware of the crowd that had gathered. They were all either looking at her, murmuring to each other, or all-out laughing at Hans' expense.

It didn't matter. Carrying the board, she managed to locate the kid she had mostly-stolen it from. "Hey, thanks man," she said. He took it, a dumbstruck look on his face.

"Where'd you learn to do that?" he asked. Anna shrugged.

"7 Eleven," she said, as truthfully as she could. That parking lot was one of many places she had honed her boarding skills.

As she headed back toward Elsa and Kristoff, she couldn't help but take another look at Hans, spitting manure out of his mouth and gagging. It was a memory she was going to savour. When he was being an a-hole to her dad and saying lewd shit about her mom, she'd remember this.

"Oh my GOD, Tori, you're so… fucking… RAD!" Elsa managed to whisper when she arrived, hands over her mouth. She noticed Kristoff looking a little like a third wheel, hanging around, but she didn't have much time to feel bad about it because blonde hair was suddenly filling her vision as arms came to wrap around her, Elsa hopping up and down on the balls of her feet.

"Hey, hey!" she laughed, hesitantly patting her on the back. But she had to get out of there. If she kept hanging around, she knew that Kristoff would never get a chance to finish his proposal that they attend the dance together. "No biggie. I just didn't want him to beat me up. Um… a-anyway, I gotta go, see ya!"

She knew it was a less-than-elegant exit, but maybe this could be one of those "make yourself less appealing" moments Doc had told her about. Soon enough, she was running through the streets, wishing she still had the skateboard.

                                                          To Be Continued…

[musicfeedsmysoul12]

Haven Raised Chapter 6

Summary:  Harry's life is completely changed when his aunt and uncle are forced to take him to a funeral at a relatives. Now being raised by Primrose Evans, her sister Grace and the citizens of Havenfall, his life is going to be a roller coaster.

AO3 link

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Harry and Ron grinned at each other as Ron sat down next to Harry, nudging his shoulder.

“This is going to be spectacular!” Harry said cheerfully. “My mother will be happy I’ve made a friend and gotten into the house I wanted.”

“Even if she doesn’t understand the houses?”

“Even then.” Harry laughed. After the rest of the sorting, Dumbledore stood up to say a few funny words and food appeared on the tables. Harry squinted at him. “He’s either crazy or he’s messing with everyone.”

“Or both.” Joked a brown-haired boy. He offered his hand. “Justin. It’s nice to meet you- I read a few books but I assume you’re not like what they say?”

“Not at all. My aunt Grace read those and made fun of them. My mother was angry and is discussing taking some of them to court.” Harry sighed. “Especially the Tales of the Boy-Who-Lived. Mom is furious she never found them before.”

“My sister has a few of those books,” Ron remarked, chuckling at the horrified face of Harry. “Easy. Mom made sure she didn’t take it too seriously. Reminded her it was a story and that was that.”

“Where were you raised?” A slightly snooty looking boy said, introducing himself as Zacharias.

“America. My biological mother had a cousin who lived there who took me in after some unpleasantness with my maternal aunt and uncle.” Harry replied. “I have a companion animal thanks to panic attacks that occur occasionally thanks to them- he’s a dog named Spot.”

“Interesting,” a boy who said his name was Ernie Said. “He tame?”

“Of course. We don’t know what breed he is other than some magical one but he’s very tame.” Harry said.

“Then there’s no problem,” Zacharias said, sounding bored. “You speak well Harry.”

“My mother’s named Primrose and she was often teased for being ‘Prim and Proper’ as a child. In turn, she began acting like it to annoy those who bullied her. I picked some mannerisms up.” Harry said stiffly. He picked at his food. It was very delicious but he found he missed his mother’s cooking. “Is that curry?” He asked, nodding to a bowl a little further down.

“Ah, you would like… oh wow no.” Justin covered his face while Harry laughed at Justin, taking some of the curries as Ron handed it to him.

“My aunt and uncle hated my heritage. My mother, however, hunted down an Indian woman to teach her how to cook traditional foods for me.” He said calmly. “I do love it, and I will tell you if you are treading the line.”

“You’re being quite open.” Zacharias Said.

“I have panic attacks and nightmares. Better warn you now than in the middle of the night.” Harry replied.

“Makes sense,” Ron said, eating a large serving. “I was nervous earlier about the one you…” he winced, realizing Harry may not want to talk about it but Harry just pressed on.

“It is nerve-wracking. I understand.” The talk turned back to family and he learned that all but Justin, another boy named Wayne who was rather quiet and himself were purebloods that year- a surprising thing given the acceptance of all from Hufflepuff. The girls- Megan Jones, Susan Bones, and Hannah Abbot- were pureblood as well which was just as odd.

“What does your mother do for a living?” Zacharias Asked Harry after they talked about their own parent's jobs.

“She runs my estate though she refuses to touch that money. As well she works at a bowling alley-“ there were no looks of confusion so he kept going, “-that doubles as a bar. I know she’s considering going to school like she had originally planned before the death of her grandmother made her the guardian of her younger sister soon. My aunt Grace- her sister- graduates from muggle school this year.” Harry shrugged. “I hope she does. She always wished to go to culinary school.”

“She gave it up for her sister?” Justin Asked.

“Full scholarship- meaning her schooling would have been paid and everything. But she chose her sister.”

“A true Hufflepuff.” A kid near them said. Harry jumped and realized almost the entire table had been listening in. Cedric, a little further down, looked somewhat embarrassed but smiled.

“It’s so we can know if the first years are okay,” he told Harry upon seeing the look. “Make sure they’re okay at home and stuff. Also…”

“Harry Potter,” Harry said dryly. America had prepared him for celebrity gossip.

The feast lead to dessert appearing, something Harry wasn’t as fond of given he recognized little. He had something that looked like a pie that tasted pretty good.

“You like treacle tart?” asked Ron. Harry blinked.

“I have no idea what I’m eating but it tastes excellent,” he admitted.

“It’s a traditional British dessert.” Justin offered. “A tart.”

“...To me, tarts are like mini pies. Not this.” Justin laughed at Harry who rolled his eyes, grinning.

After their dessert, Dumbledore stood up to give news.

“Welcome all to Hogwarts!” he said in a booming voice. “As you are all undoubtedly full and tired, I will keep this brief! Our caretaker Mr. Filch has a list of items that are banned on his door that you may all see, while our Herbology Professor, Professor Sprout, would like to remind everyone that Greenhouse Three is not to be trifled with.” His face and tone turned serious after a moment.

“As well, I would like to inform students that Professor Snape’s probation period is over. He will be allowed to take points and issue detentions once more.” A black-haired professor sneered at the students. A professor in a turban was near him and Harry felt his forehead suddenly ache. He winced and reached up to grab it.

“You alright?” Ron asked. Harry shrugged.

“Headache.”

“As well, for this year,” Dumbledore said, “There is a corridor on the third floor that is out of bounds due to issues concerning a possible nest of some sort of breed of doxy that is particularly dangerous.”

“Doxy?” Harry asked Ron quietly.

“A pest. Their bite is kinda venomous.” Ron said, shrugging. “They’re not all that bad but a big pest at times.”

“Huh.” Harry blinked as a Prefect (whatever those were. He assumed it was kind of like what an RA was from his mom’s description of what they were when they’d been watching some show with them in it) came towards them.

“Hello! I’m Susie Danvers!” the girl said cheerfully. “If you could just follow me please?” The first years followed her out of the hall and down a few hallways, Harry feeling somewhat overwhelmed by how many turns they took when they came to a bunch of barrels on a wall. “This is the entrance to Hufflepuff!” Susie said in a clear voice. She rapped her fist on one, singing along, “He-l-ga Hu-ff-le-pu-ff.” A barrel in the middle seemed to grow and open up, leading to a large room that was very earthy, with the scent of earth and water saturating the room. The doors were round, and Harry whispered to Justin- the only one who may know what he said-

“Hobbit holes.” Justin burst into snickers as Harry looked around and saw how open the room was, light streaming in through high up windows and portraits that were moving covering the walls.

“You hit the wrong one or do it in the wrong way and you’ll be soaked in vinegar,” Susie told the first years about the barrels. A bark distracted her and Harry grinned.

“Spot!” he dropped to a knee to hug the dog who ran up to him, licking his face.

“He’s a handsome pup, Mr. Potter,” Susie said with a smile. He grinned up at her as she turned to the rest. “Now, we have two dormitories. One for those who consider themselves female, and one for those who consider themselves male. The girls are on the right, boys on the left.” Susie recited carefully. “As well, I would like to inform you that Professor Sprout holds a weekly meeting for the House so people can air their grievances and deal with other issues. She is not here right now as it is the beginning of term but she will have a one-on-one meeting with you next week to ask you questions.”  Susie explained.

The boys went up to their room, discovering it was very airy with nice windows and desks and plants everywhere. Spot had his dog pillow beside a bed with Harry’s trunk at it- right under a window. Harry grinned.

This was going to be interesting.

-0-

Their first day of classes, Harry was a little surprised by the food on the table in front of them.

“Going to have a full English?” Wayne asked as he loaded up his plate.

“I usually tend to stick with cereal in the morning,” Harry said, blinking at the options. “Or toast. Mom usually works days so it’s busy in the morning.”

“Well, we have time now,” Ron said. “Want to try anything?”

“... I feel that Dr. Diego would come here to yell at me himself if he knew what I could possibly be eating so I will stick with toast and fruit.” Harry said, eyeing the foods.

“Dr. Diego?” Justin asked.

“My mom’s friend from back home- well, her boss’s friend who she speaks to a lot and considers a semi-friend anyway. He’s the town’s doctor- healer,” Harry said to the looks from those, not in the know. “He is very big on healthy eating. I think he has a heart attack when my mother and JD- her coworker- get bored and make… strange combinations out of bar food.” Harry shuddered, remembering some of those combinations.

Professor Sprout- a plump woman with dirt all over her robes- came down to hand them their schedules then.

“As well, today I would like you all to come one at a time to the office I have in the common room after supper. We will have a short meeting, alright dears?” she asked with a smile. The first years agreed and went to their first lesson which was Charms.

The professor was a small wizard named Professor Flitwick who squeaked at getting to Harry’s name and fell off a stack of books. Harry did not want that to set a precedent for the first week at Hogwarts but had a horrible feeling it would.

At least after that, Professor Flitwick did not treat him any different. Instead, he acted as if Harry was any other student as he began teaching them Charm theory- explaining that Charms were some of the more dangerous pieces of magic.

“What not many people know is that most curses- even those you learn in Defense Against the Dark Arts- are actually Charms.” the Professor said to the class. “Charms are the base for curses, jinxes, hexes and so much more. Even more, there is much difficulty in how a Charm can be cast as one mispronounced word can lead to death. As such, we do not do practical magic for a few weeks at the very least.”

He went through the syllabus with them, explaining his plans and Harry diligently took notes while Ron scowled at the pages of his own notes and the syllabus He hated taking notes.

“Are you okay Ron?” Harry asked him in a quiet voice while Flitwick was going through something.

“How can anyone read when it’s all floating around?” He asked, cross.

“...Are you dyslexic?” Harry asked, remembering a boy in his class with a similar problem who was dyslexic.

“Huh?”

“It’s a learning disability,” Harry said, unaware Flitwick was near them. “The words really float around for you?”

“...yeah.”

“I think there’s like special books… no wait, magic…”

“We will give you the best help we can Mr. Weasley,” Flitwick suddenly said, in front of them. The boys blushed. Flitwick was keeping slightly quiet as he spoke. “But please, pay attention. I do have a dyslexic Ravenclaw in the fifth year who can spell your books for you Mr. Weasley but again…”

“Sorry, sir.” The boys said. They paid attention the rest of the period and Flitwick gave Ron the Ravenclaw’s name- a Penelope Clearwater. Luckily, they passed by a group of Ravenclaws to their second class of the day- Transfiguration with the Gryffindors- when they found the girl. She spelled his books and taught him the fairly easily spell before heading to her own class.

McGonagall took their explanation on why they were a little bit behind easily, stating she was used to first years being late, and she understood speaking to an older student well.

Their lesson with McGonagall jumped right into magic, something Harry raised his hand to ask about.

“Professor, in Charms we were told we would have to wait for a long time until we used magic. May I ask why the rules are different in this class?” he asked.

“Five points to Hufflepuff for the question,” McGonagall said. She looked pleased. “Few ask about this, and I always wait to see if they will do so. I am pleased someone has decided to.” Granger looked annoyed but interested in the answer, the Gryffindor girl holding her quill ready. “The truth of the thing is that unlike Charms, Transfiguration is a subject that when you start out, will rarely go wrong in that it can cause harm. Yes, some spells are dangerous and should not be taken lightly but the truth is that at this age, few students have enough power to cause harm with Transfiguration. Mostly it simply will not work. Charms, however, can go wrong in any possible way. Not because it is an easier subject- never that- but because it requires less forcing of the subject to change.” She turned her desk into a pig and back, too much applause.

“The desk’s natural state is a desk, not a pig. It fought me every step of the way to change and it was much easier to change back then not. As such, it requires great power to force this- power your bodies have but you are too young to properly focus. Charms are less tricky and more likely to go wrong.” She nodded. “As such, we teach you right from the start with Transfiguration so your bodies become used to forcing things to change.”

With that, they were given matches after a small series of notes- in which Harry made sure to help Ron with by showing him a cheat sheet Grace had made him of shortcuts for common words like ‘with’- and informed how to turn a matchstick into a needle.

No one but Granger got very close to it, but no one minded now that they knew why.

Lunch was after that class. Harry was pleased to see more Indian style foods were there, which Cedric- who was sitting near them- explained as being a house elf magic thing. House elves apparently served the school and could tell when someone preferred certain foods over others.

“Like how a few of our Jewish students keep Kosher- the elves will recognize it and give them Kosher food,” he explained.

The next class after was History of Magic. Halfway through the class, Harry gave up on notes and began playing hangman with Ron. He just couldn’t do it.

Luckily- no one else could either.

Later after there was supper in which everyone chatted about their days. Spot had appeared out of nowhere, feeling Harry was stressed apparently.

“What kind of dog is he?” Cedric asked.

“I have no clue,” Harry said honestly. “He just appears when I need him.”

“He’s a big dog already,” Wayne said.

“He’s a good dog.” Ron insisted. Harry grinned at his friend.

Yeah, he was.

After supper was when Sprout met with the First Years individually. She went in Alphabetical order so Harry was second last.

“Hello, Mr. Potter!” Said the woman with a smile as he came in with Spot. “Do you mind if I call you Harry?”

“No, my teachers back in America called me by my first name. It’s strange to be called by my surname.” Harry replied. “Though I understand the need for professionalism.”

“Well then Harry, I will call you as such while we are one on one. Now, how was your first day?”

“It went well. No issues other than History being boring.” Sprout nodded.

“Yes, we can't change that though. The Board still deflects it every time we bring it up. Mr. Lupin tries but he’s one voice.” She shook her head. “Anyway- Can I ask you about your family?”

“There’s really not much to say. I have my mother and aunt- though she’s more of a sister than an aunt.” Harry shrugged. Sprout nodded.

“From what I read in your file- which was given to me and discusses the bare basics- I can understand that. Your mother treats you well?”

“Yes. She gave up a position at a college for me and Grace- my aunt. She works hard to give us food and pay our bills and her boss,” he controlled his blush firmly, “has always helped us when we needed it most. She refuses to touch the money she’s given for me any more then she has to.”

“She sounds wonderful.” Sprout said kindly. “You don’t worry about her dating anyone at all? I understand some children worry about their parents falling into a new relationship when they’re here.”

“No,” Harry said, shaking his head. “She wouldn’t date anyone who didn’t like me or Grace. I doubt she would date anyone, not in our sphere of…” he frowned, trying to think of the word. “Social sphere.”

“Like who?” Harry shrugged at Sprout’s question. It was weird thinking of his mom dating at all. “Well then, I’m glad your happy Harry. Are you looking forward to any particular class?”

“I’m looking forward to an elective I saw. Care of Magical Creatures.” Harry admitted. Sprout laughed.

“You like animals?”

“Love them.”

“Well then, I suggest chatting with Hagrid, our groundskeeper. He knows all about animals and he was… friends with your biological father.” Harry froze.

“Oh…”

“He’s a good man.” Sprout said. “A lovely one. He’ll like chatting about animals most though.”

“That’s okay. I love animals.” The rest of the meeting was just her making sure he knew how to use a quill- and her expressing interest in his notebooks and pens. Flitwick has mentioned them to her and both were interested in that he used them.

“It’s easier,” Harry said. “I’ll use parchment for assignments and stuff but I like pens and notebooks for notes.”

“Understandable.” Sprout said, nodding. “Parchment has magical properties which is why we use it still but a notebook and pen sounds much easier!”

“It is!” Harry Agreed. The session was over after that and he went up to his room, letting Ron have his own chat.

Ron came back pensive, laying down on his own bed.

Your brothers are great people but you are a great person as well. You don’t need to prove it. Sprout had told him, followed by her telling him not to listen to his mom when she compared him to Percy. That he was his own person.

Ron sighed.

He didn’t know what to think about that.

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I hope you all enjoyed this chapter!

Plot Points

-I changed the painful death thing because I feel that with a sudden change in seats of the board of directors that they would pay more attention to Hogwarts thanks to more attention on them. They agreed to let Dumbledore house the stone but not give that speech.

-Yes, Binns is still around thanks to greedy board members.

-Ron is dyslexic! I love this headcanon but I always disagreed the teachers wouldn’t know what to do- at least Flitwick would know someone who could help!