#like this is why i don’t watch horror. i am so paranoid and so easy to scare

[purble-gaymer]

jordan peele’s us has had a permanent effect on my brain which means i have to make jokes about it every time dark meta knight appears. sorry i have to. i got scarred by a movie at 18 it’s the only way i can cope

[justhere4kpop]

Jumpscare

Idol!Choi San x Reader

You watch a scary movie with your boyfriend, but you don't seem to have as much fun as you hoped.

Warnings: Mentions of anxiety but nothing extreme, Language, Just Fluff!

wc: 1645 (I know its short! Forgive me!)

a/n: Just a short San Oneshot not related to my other works just wanted to write a little comfort fic, I hope you guys like it! I am working on other things but this came to me as I was talking to a friend (@senpai-of-doom Thanks for letting me bounce ideas off you! <3 <3 <3!!) about comfort fic ideas. I had fun writing it, I hope you enjoy reading it!

Tag: @layzfeelit since I know you were also looking forward to it! Your support means the world to me!

Masterlist

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To say I am a coward when it comes to scary movies is an understatement.I was not a fan of horror films but I knew they were a good date idea, and I barely get to see him anymore, not since the group started gaining popularity and I’d be damned before I ever thought about holding him back. I am his number one fan always, I was at every show I could make it to and I’d never stop him from living his dream like that, he meant the world to me so I’d prove it every chance I got. However, he thought it’d be fun to scare the piss out of each other and watch scary movies, you get all cuddled up together and it’s cute but I hope he doesn’t pick something that scares the piss out of me. 

“I was thinking about Paranormal Activity?” San smiled as I got comfortable on the couch.

“I don’t think I’ve seen that one.” I looked at him curiously.

“I heard it’s pretty scary. I think we can handle it though, it’s a found footage film.” he got next to me as he scrolled Netflix. He came over to mine, much more quiet than me trying to sneak into the dorms and all the guys. “Ready?”

“Mmhmm.” I nodded and grabbed the blanket and popcorn. You could tell he was really excited to watch this.

We got about halfway into the movie before I really started to get tense, the movie was building obviously but I was starting to feel it. My hands felt kind of clammy. I could tell he was trying not to let it show he was also getting a little paranoid but he had a certain look to him that told me he was almost as tensed up as I was. I don’t know why we suggested this he doesn’t like scary stuff either. This is so dumb of us. It was the end of the movie when the main character Katie screamed for her boyfriend Micah after watching him for almost 2 hours, that finally caused me to lose it. I practically threw the popcorn in the air when he got thrown at the camera letting out a yelp. San wasn’t doing much better but I think between the two of us I was the one that was terrified. I was hoping he wouldn’t notice, I mean it's just a movie I shouldn’t be this scared. 

“Maybe we should go to bed?” San suggested as the credits rolled.

“Oh yeah sure.” I nodded, closing my eyes to break my stare on the screen. As he got up I learned he had no intention of inviting himself to stay over, I wasn’t about to let that happen, there’s no way I was going to sleep alone. “W-Where are you going?” I stuttered. “I barely get to see you, please stay the night.” so I don’t get freaked out by anything.

“I didn’t…want to assume you wanted me to stay.” he looked relieved honestly.

“San we’ve been dating for 2 years now, I think it’s safe to say please stay after any and all date nights?” I gave him a warm smile trying to hide the fear in my voice.

We got ready for bed but that was the easy part it seemed. As we laid down, in my dark…dark room, I couldn’t help but start to feel the anxiety rise in my chest. I tossed and turned for the better part of 3 hours before I started feeling like there were things happening I couldn’t see, noises were coming from everywhere, and the worst part….he fell asleep facing away from me. Now I’ve never been one to be able to wake anyone up, I used to be so scared to wake my parents up during the night I’d rather suffer under my covers during a loud thunderstorm than go crawl to them. I heard a loud thump come from my hallway and it completely sent me over the edge, I threw myself out of bed and into the bathroom letting the tears flow down my face. I couldn’t help it anymore, I was so scared there was something in my apartment and I couldn’t ask for help. I yelped when there was a knock on the bathroom door and practically died when it opened. I threw the closest thing I could at the intruder which happened to be a towel….very effective.

“Baby…Baby it’s me. It’s me, hey take a breath.” San said, hushing me calmly. “Hey hey hey shhh shhh.” he wrapped his arms around me. 

“Th-There’s something out there.” I blubbered.

“I already checked it’s okay, it’s just your imagination.” he held my head. “I’m sorry. I didn’t know you were this scared.”

Was I really that good at hiding it? I guess that’s the troubled past coming through…I thought I was an open book when it came to that. 

“I’m sorry,” he said again. “I’m so sorry y/n. I thought…I’m so stupid.”

“No you’re not.” I looked at him teary eyed. “Please don’t talk about my boyfriend that way.”

“Hey your boyfriend did a poor job at looking after you, I can be a little harsh on him right now.” he picked me up. “Come here jagiya.” I wrapped my legs around his waist as we got up.

“I didn’t mean to wake you.” I said in a small voice.

“I was awake anyways.” he let out a little chuckle. “How about we watch something else. As silly as can be, even your favorite kids show. Youtube, we can play video games. Make cookies?” He brushed my hair back and wiped my face.

“You can go back to sleep.” I whispered.

“And leave my baby out here like this, no way.” he kissed my forehead. “I’m not leaving you until you’re smiling, and forgetting about this whole scary thing.”

“Can we watch Business Proposal then?” I looked at him.

“Absolutely.” he smiled and turned it on. It was just the amount of cuteness, no scares, and romance I wanted. Nothing terrifying happened and it was nice leaning against his chest while watching it. He wrapped the blanket over my head and rubbed my back. “I love you.” he whispered to the top of my head, giving it a small kiss.

“I love you too.” I nuzzled into his chest a little more.

“I really am sorry Jagiya.”

“Sannie, please don’t worry about it anymore. It’s really ok, it was just a movie.”

“I know, I just should’ve realized sooner you were scared. I honestly didn’t know.”

“Which is why I’m not mad Sannie.” I squeezed his other hand that was holding mine. “I know you wouldn’t just ignore it, you’re not that type of person.”

“How about some chocolate? It really does help after you cry.” he opened up a little piece for me and popped it in my mouth, not letting me grab it myself.

It felt nice to get taken care of for a little bit, I felt bad since it was so late but he kept telling me it was no bother to him, as long as I was happy.

“You do so much for me, you’re at every show, cheering, singing along, taking photos. I can take care of you for a few hours.” he chuckles and nudges my head with his nose. “I love you.” he kissed the side of my face again.

“I know.” I giggled since his breath tickled me. “You said it earlier.”

“And I’m going to say it again. I love you.”

“I know.”

“I don’t think you heard me. I love you!”

“I know!”

“I Love You!”

“I Know!” I started chuckling more.

“I LOVE YOU!” he kissed all over my face after his loud 2 am proclamation.

“I LOVE YOU TOO!” I said back with a laugh now.

“I love you y/n,” he smiled watching me.

“I love you too, San.”

“I love you more.” he pulled me closer and kept his hand on my back. “And I’ll tell you as many times as there are stars in the sky.”

“Whoa, that’s at least….like 20 times.” I chuckled at his expression.

“Probably more like 20,000.”

“I did say at least.” I smiled which was quickly followed by a yawn.

“Bedtime?” He raised an eyebrow.

“Bedtime.” I nodded.

Still he carried me to the bedroom, not letting my feet touch the floor for a second. He said it was too cold and I shouldn’t have to know what that feels like, whatever that meant. He cradled me to him this time and tangled our legs together, now I know how he feels, his feet are cold as hell. No wonder he complains when I do it in the winter, will that stop me…no. 

“Goodnight Baby.” he smiled his wonderful crinkled eye smile. I love that smile so much, it felt like home.

“Goodnight-” I yawned. “Sannie.”

We both got quiet if only for a moment, my eyes starting to shut peacefully.

“Baby?”

“Hmm?”

“I wish I knew you didn’t like scary movies either, it would’ve saved us a lot of anxiety.” he chuckled.

“Either? So…you didn’t like the movie?”

“I was honestly terrified the whole time. I thought you liked scary movies.”

“San, I honest to god hate scary movies with my entire being.”

“We really should’ve watched Up again instead.” he smiled into my hair.

“Maybe next time. No more scary movies?”

“No more scary movies.” he agreed.

“Good.” I nodded. A sense of relief washed over me learning he was just as scared as I was and thought I was fine. That was all I needed to finally put my mind at ease and fall asleep in his arms.

“Goodnight baby. I love you.” he smiled, pulling the covers over us.

[glittergummy]

My Forget-Me-Not

Things don't always work out the way they're supposed to, and Circuit darn well knows that. As much as he'll spell out his stance as distanced, that's not such an easy feat when faced with such an earnest mech you haven't seen in so long under such volatile circumstances.

starring: Short Circuit + Exabyte | tw: implied violence + bodily trauma, body horror

“Relax, Cir. It’s just a little scratch!”

Circuit taking in a deep breath to exhale through the vents aside his capped helm as he let the angry red flush from his mood the best he could, cauterizing exabyte’s wires as he laid quite literally more than barely scathed.

That would be more than an over-exaggeration when he’s literally only a torso with one arm and somehow his dumb smile and voice box intact.

“This is literally the worst time for humor, Exabyte. For the love of Primus, please *be quiet*.”

He sounded panicked but perhaps more tight lipped at exabyte’s usual jovial response to something so serious. He never got such a thing, and was even wondering why he was still here in the first place.

It would be fine though, Exabyte could regenerate his body parts but extra help would make it all the more quicker; allowing Circuit with limited knowledge to close the tips of the wires so they stopped leaking bits of energon from the bottom of his chest cavity.

Exabyte never did learn to be quiet, and his uncanny ability to always come back like a cockroach made that sentiment more unbearable in the long run. 

His smile stretching his cheek pads that lit up like his red crossed visor and just laid his helm on the ground to let Circuit work, watching him with such a tender emote.

It’s not like he was going anywhere anytime soon but there was also no reason for Circuit to be lingering when he could’ve retreated the moment his autobot squad called to get back to their makeshift base. A ship wouldn’t be back for many cycles to pick them up so they had to make do, Circuit letting off more steam from his vents as he focused and all was good until Exabyte opened his mouth. Again.

“You know I can’t just clamp the ol’ vocal cords to static like that… Besides, I’d be more inclined to ponder why you’re still here when your buddies ran tailpipe once there was an opening.”

Circuit sighed and shook his helm. Exabyte had made this mission hell by making an appearance, no doubt in mind it was to see Circuit. But a decepticon symbol being brandished in front of paranoid trigger happy cybertronians wasn’t such a good idea for most mechs.

Either way it was quick, some autobots got wires in limbs they didn’t fancy losing control of and Exabyte got sliced in multiple areas several times. You win some, you lose some.

Circuit glancing his shadowed bright optics to that grinning face as he grimaced, flicking his gaze back to the task at hand.

“I am still here, because, it wouldn’t be right to let your spark get snuffed out for not even engaging in violence willingly.”

Exabyte laughed, flicking his sharp tongue at him and sticking it out to pull back in a bright smile complimented by rows of sharp teeth.

“I can’t offline, Circuit. Don’t be a negative nanotech now…”

Circuit paused, holding the wires a bit tight as he looked ar Exabyte with a blank expression.

“You and I both don’t know if that’s 100% true.”

Exabyte hissed at the grip but let his smile drop for a moment with a huff as he looked away, laying there as Circuit took that non-response to finish up closing off Exabyte’s wounds. The wires being closed wasn’t too bad, felt like tiny pinches.

The dark decepticon’s only working limb twitching it’s fingers and snaking up to wrap around Circuit and pull him close as he yelped. A growl as he pushed his face away and sat up, allowing the arm to stay instead of being squished by his war hammer in favor as he turned bright red on his grey complexion. Exabyte snickering and watching him from his horizontal position.

“That wasn’t so bad, but I hope you know it’ll take weeks for me to fully recuperate.”

Circuit crossed his arms, antenna crackling at the end as he looked away with such a nasty look.

“Save your callous flirting, Exabyte. I’m only staying with you until you can fend for yourself again.”

They were closed off in a section of some rogue cave, safe from his team and no known fauna to disturb them as Circuit had to come to terms he’d be mostly just here guarding Exabyte while his body naturally regrew.

There was no reason to give Exabyte the time of day in his mind and that confused Circuit more than it ever should, and he hated uncertainly. But for now, he just sat with Exabyte, letting him hold him there and just mind-numbingly listen as exabyte began to ramble to him as he used to do back in the day.

His sitting moved to laying down and he pulled out his security tarp to lay on them for the night to conserve some heat and allow free airflow. The tired autobot’s brain mush from listening to exabyte as the con hauled him close to his limited embrace where it was more comfy, petting his helm with a smile and low vibration of a rumble.

Circuit groaned but didn’t feel much for moving now, laying there to recharge next to the exact mech he wanted to be done with the moment the war peaked.

[anyasjournal]

Death to true crime! 

 are we truly after education on criminals or is that a vain excuse for our sick fascination? 

THIS ARTICLE CONTAINS DISSCUSSION OF MURDER AND BREIF MENTION OF RAPE PLEASE DO NOT CONTINUE READING IF SUCH TOPICS UPSET YOU  

The 21st century has brought with it wave after wave of new technology and with that came social media, endless streaming and information at our fingertips. That has made it exceptionally easy for us to get to know whatever we want, see whatever we deem necessary and occasionally what we don’t, with the never-ending scrolling on TikTok and auto play on YouTube you’ll find the usual ‘fit-check’ and travel vlog but go deep enough into the internet and you face some much darker things.  

When I was around 10, I got an iPad, it was my introduction to the internet and I spent hours on YouTube watching whatever came up, it was before parents could even think of using blockers or screen time limits. Although most of my consumption was harmless some not so much, some instilled fears I still haven’t gotten over and some I’ll never forget. Now this isn’t to scare parents away from the internet and social media it is simply a conversation I think needs to be had and a necessary reflection on my own media consumption. Most of the videos I watched were makeup tutorials I’d never follow and video games I’d never play, through the makeup videos I found sfx makeup, people able to transform themselves into terrifying things, but I wasn’t afraid, that ignited in me my love for horror, something I still hold to this day, in my family I was the one who could watch any horror film and not be scared, sleep through the night after watching something that made you jump out of your skin. And because of this ‘immunity’ to horror I dove deeper into the pit and ended up where everyone seems to go, true crime, serial killers, cannibals and more. Even at my young age I knew my limit, I knew when to stop and for a while my interest in true crime remained just that, I’d know random facts about famous killers but never anything more. 

Despite this limit I put on myself I was still an incredibly paranoid person, I still am to this day, I’d check the house before I went to sleep make sure the doors and windows were locked, made sure I had an escape if needed. Looking back, I can see that all of this was most likely a side effect of this consumption I deemed normal. For years I never was too afraid of any true crime story or any serial killer, I watched all the videos, read all about them but still slept at night, lucky me. That all changed when I took a step over the line, my immunity against fear faltered and for the first time I couldn’t sleep all because I watched an interview and that lead me to the wrong pictures. I was 14 maybe 15 at the time, thinking I was mature for my age but I was still a kid, I was watching a video on YouTube probably an unsolved mystery and then looking over to the recommended saw an interview of a killer I’d heard of before but never looked into: Jeffery Dahmer, thinking nothing of it, thinking my immunity would protect me I watched it, I faced Ted Bundy and read endlessly about the Zodiac and knew all the canonical five of Jack the Ripper so why should this scare me? But there’s that old saying, curiosity killed the cat, and in this case it surely did.  

I clicked the video, it was a simple interview but Dahmer's eyes, his eyes terrified me, I didn’t know yet what he had done, he spoke to the interviewer calmly, eerily, I could feel my heart race, I needed to know, no I wanted to know what he did so as anyone could I looked it up, I saw the articles read them then I saw the pictures, pictures that I still see today in the back of my mind pictures I wished I’d never seen. My heart beating out of my chest my hands shaking I closed the tab, all the while the video playing the background, Dahmer's monotonous voice echoing in my brain, I couldn’t bear to hear it anymore, I felt nauseous, I felt afraid.  

After that I didn’t dare watch anything like that for a while, the occasional video or documentary crossed my path, but nothing could make me go back down the hole I’d fallen in. 

So why is it that I become so interested with true crime? Why did I fall down that hole? And if I came swimming back up gasping for air, how long till you do too? 

Often people claim their interest for such disturbing things comes from a simple need to know more or to educate themselves on true crime cases. But to me that argument is silly and wrong why would you want to educate yourself on the tragic death, torture or rape of a person, it isn’t because you need to know more it is because you want, this morbid curiosity has become so normalized its concerning. There are websites dedicated to leaked crime scene and autopsy photos or murder victims that people can look at without any censoring the links to these websites are shared in comment sections on TikTok, which is an app marketed to teens. Labelling this as just curiosity is damaging and could be seriously harmful it shouldn’t be taken lightly, and it shouldn’t be so normalized. 

Again I'm not saying any of this to scare people off the internet or shame those who are interested in true crime, it is simply something to think about or reflect on, looking at the actual crime scene photos or autopsy reports or even watching interviews can seriously affect you and your mental health, as much as we like to believe we are above it we are not, and if you're reading this thinking you aren’t afraid and I'm wrong true crime has no effect on you, you're probably the person this applies to most.  

If you see nothing wrong in the continuous consumption of morbid media and even illegally leaked photos or information, if this leaves you feeling nothing maybe you should really reflect because those photos are of real people who had families friends dreams jobs, they loved and were loved and you're looking at a photo of them dead without feeling anything, you are using the deaths of these people as entertainment to satisfy your so called curiosity, to put it simply t is wrong.  sure, maybe the photos are interesting and teach you more about the killer, they are still completely unnecessary to look at, there are hundreds of harmless documentaries thousands of articles and YouTube videos that you could watch to learn more but instead photos of dead mutilated bodies are what is deemed interesting, what is used to learn, that in my opinion is wrong. 

But you don’t have to listen to me, I'm no one to you but maybe just look at what you consume and how you react to it, look at who it affects and think of the people you are looking at yes, they are victims of your ‘favourite murderer’ but they were people who deserve to be remembered as more than just a victim, they deserve respect over your curiosity. 

It is no surprise the internet can be a dark place, I've been told that as long as I've been on the internet and I have no intention of stopping being on the internet and I'm not implying you should either, all I'm saying is watch what you consume it may not all be as surface level as you think there are lives affected by it beyond your screen. 

The morbid fascination and normalisation of true crime, especially in its extremes can lead people to much darker things and the consumption of such morbid things should be monitored or limited, I learned the hard way but I'm glad I learned. Again, I'm not saying you can’t be interested or curious but please be cautious and be respectful, the world is bigger than the internet bigger than our phones and we must remember that.  

There is a lot more I could say about this topic so there might possibly be a part 2 but if you have any of your own opinions, please let me know 

Thank you for reading.  

[soft-boi-eli]

Hello Hello!

I just wanted to say I love your fics!

ALSO!

Could I request a CC!SBI X Gn! Insomniac Reader! Where the reader is an insomniac (Obviously-) but is somehow a pro at MC!

Like they are basically god at the game! They also REALLY enjoy horror games! They don’t get scared easily and LOVE horror movies! They basically love anything horror/creepy-

ANYWAYS!!

The reader lives off of ramen and Monster energy drinks (For fun-)! They have a Twitch (Which has about 18 mil followers and 14 mil subs!) and a YouTube channel (Which has 20 mil followers!)

They mainly play horror games (Obviously-) and MC!

You can do headcanons or scenarios/images with the SBI! Maybe like playing a horror game together or MC? OR! Maybe some things they do together? Or when they meet up? Or-to many ideas Nightmare-

ANYWAYS!

I don’t really care! And don’t worry about taking too long on it!

ALSO!

Maybe we could be friends? Only if you want too!

Remember to eat, drink, and get enough sleep!

<3

Yes. I lovesthese ideas and I'm gonna choose headcannons due to they are a bit easierfor me to write.

And yes I'm perfectly fine with being your friend! I'm actually happy to make friends on this app so yeah!

Pronouns:nonbinary

Tw: cussing. Insomia, mentions of horror movies. Mention of horror games. Fluff.

SBI with a horror streamer friend head cannons.

*Ahem* tommy wanted to paly a game with you so you choose a game that didn't look like horror until the middle. He screamed at the jump scare and it made both of your chats so happy.

When phil decides to play with you there is literally a silence after a jump scare. Everyone thought he had a heart attack and honestly so did you until he spoke up about accidently hitting his mute button when he jumped.

Wilbur. He's a bit better then tommy but more scared then phil would be. Any little noise won't get him but when it starts to get noticeable the noiseless to him. The jump scare, he'd fall out of his seat and stay on the ground for a bit. You ask if he's good and he literally doesn't answer. He's dead. You killed him. Congrats.

Techno. He'd handle them a bit better then everyone else. Not as good as you but heisnt very paranoid. He literally runs at the noises trying to get jumpscared. While you run after him telling him to stop because if he doesn't then you'd lose and die. And technoblade never dies.

If you all play together both tommy and wilbur pussy out. Techno last the longest and phil the second longest. While you remain the ruler of horror games.

Now how you all met was dream invited you to the dream smp to add to the chaos. Needless to say it got extremely chaotic due to you being on almost 24 hours. You first ran into techno. He seemed confused and skeptical.

You both found eachothers love for potatoes. You set up camp quote close to techno but not too close.

Phil popped in when he needed something for a build and noticed a new name. Talked to you in chat and asked to join your VC. You both found each other talking for a bit.

Wilbur was next. Wilbur got curious over the new person and just hoppedinto the same VC as you techno and phil. He was quick to realize that you were a famous youtuber. Mainly for your horror videos and your extreme Parkcore skills.

In minecraft that is.

Tommy noticing that all of you were in the same VC joined in with shouting. He was low key jealous that everyone was obsessed with you. Then he saw why.

You literally cracked jokes at his shouting.

"Is that an angry pomeranian? Nah nah. It's an angry child. Even better an angry blonde!" - you.

He was shocked and immediately started joking and laughing with you. He wasn't fully angry for long.

Now about your diet. When they heard that you had only eaten ramen and drank angry drinks they were concerned. You lived quite close to techno so when you guys met up he was shocked that you looked as healthy as you did.

He hated the fact that you literally didn't eat anything else.

You told him occasionally you have something other then ramen but you were just too lazy to really cook anything and that you didn't feel like burning the house down.

One month phil, tommy, wilbur, and techno decided to organize a month long sleep over so that they could celebrate your birthday. Phil being quote the father figure cooked different, but easy dinners every night just so you didn't eat only ramen that day.

When they actually arrived though you got a text from Phil asking about your address in your dms. Not think much of it you just sent him your location.

You were going to take a small nap. Just to bost your energy before you went and streamed later that night.

As you were sleeping there was a car heading to your house.

Phil, wilbur, tommy, and techno were all just existing in the car. And when they arrived to your house they didn't expect to actually see a clean house.

You woke to a loud knock.

When you opened the door in your half dazed state you expected a package. But to see four people standing on your porch.

You nearly jumped out of your skin.

You were stuck there blinking at them.

Finally snapping out of it you let them in. Confused on why in the ever loving fuck they were here.

Phil explained they were here to celebrate your 21st birthday and they were here for a month.

You stared at them for a while. Confused on what to do since you haven't had people over in almost 2 years.

But you got use to it.

So when you got done streaming and smelled something other then ramen you were thrown off guard. Like what was that. I haven't smelled that in years.

But after the second day you got use to it too.

For your birthday phil literally made a feast.

Like he found your favorite food other then ramen and cooked it. With that he prepared everything you could dream of.

Your sleeping habits. Let's dig into those.

I'm in no place to talk as right now it's 3:05 in the morning. And here I am.

But when they are over they don't let you stay up till no 3-4 in the morning. They all know the importance of sleep.

But there are those nights where no once can sleep and it results in a late night stream. And streaming for hours none the less.

The amount of accidental all nighters everyone has pulled was immense. But that's what happens with jet lag, adhd, and insomnia.

Literally you get tired randomly. Sleep for only 3 hours. Wake up. Drink coffee, energy drinks, highly caffeinated tea. And don't sleep till late at night.

Pillow forts.

It's a must and it happens. Horror movies, pillow forts, and snacks. Like you all are in this massive fort, watching horror movies, one by one you all are falling asleep. You and techno were the last up due to technos active mind and your body not letting you sleep.

You two literally just vide there, changing the movies from horror to some silly animated movies, like how to train your dragon, frozen, Luca, and many others.

You two pull an all nighter and it's actually a bet to see how long anyone else takes to notice.

You bet an hour. Techno says all day.

You won. Philza notices the worse eye bags under both you and technos eyes and immediately starts scolding.

He is papa bird and he won't let anyone of his children neglect their needs.

"Did you even drink water at all? You guys should of been sleeping not binge watching horror movies all night!" -philza

You could only offer a smirk, along with a laugh.

"I think we did I just can't fully remember. Also we were watching animated films. Not horror. Surprised you didn't wake up to let it go." - you.

You turn to techno.

"You owe me 15 bucks pig boy!"-you again.

Handing you the money he rolls his eyes. "Yeha yeah. Rub it in." -techno.

Ah yeah they found a horror game that you were scared of surprisingly. It was actually surprisingly you hadn't played it yet.

Outlast.

You had been holding off that game until you finished your other one but here you were. Bored out of your mind.

So you decided fuck it.

That game teriffed the shit out of you. It was so good though.

When you screamed they all came rushing up due to the fact that you never scream.

They say you out of your chair, on the floor, blinking. They thought you were hurt.

But you sat up and looked at your computer.

"Damn. That was actually really good." When you looked behind you and found the boys all staring you smiled and waved.

"You need something?"-you

"You screamed. We heard a thud. We thought you fuckin died!" -tommy.

"No I'm alive. My soul almost divorced my body but it's still quite here."-you

That day made highlights.

The popular y/n actually got jump scared. The one person who never screamed at horror games screamed.

When they left you were sad yes but they were still your best friends. Ready to talk when ever you want.

Sometimes I think that you guys talk all through out the night. Them forgetting that you were actually in a different time zone.

Sometimes they pop into your streams, be it MC, horror, you just talking to your fans, or even the once in the blue moon, cheerful games.

They just pop in and start talking to you. And you talk back like they were there since the beginning.

Phil is now one of your moderators too. Along with tommy, wilbur, and techno. When they pop in they make sure no one picks on you.

And since you are now close to the SBI. You are now part of it.

You didn't choose the fans did. But they are your new family. No matter what.

Even if they disagree with your eating habit.

Or energy drink addiction.

Or insomnia.

Or you mainly playing horror games.

Or you basically living in your streaming room.

Or even the nearly 24 hour streams.

I could go on but I'm not gonna.

I'm tired. But I can sleep. 2 days and I get to have a tour of my new school.

And it took so long to finally get into it.

We have been going through a huge hassle even before school started to get me enrolled.

And then we had to get me into this program.

But now on Monday I get to go in. Get a tour. Then start either Tuesday or Wednesday.

Anyway hope you liked. It's now 3:50 and it's no proof read I'm sorry

[imagineryupfuckedworld]

My best friends Shadow Soldier

Fandom: Solo Leveling Genre: I tried fluff, I am not good with fluff I am sorry Warnings: None Characters: Platonic!Igris, Platonic!Sung Jin Woo, Reader

having Jin Woo as a best friend has many, many advantages

Okay, not that many, but a lot

Jin Woo is reliable, a good listener, his sense of humor is sometime ehh but that is okay

the best advantage are his Shadow Soldiers

he planted one into your shadow, like he did with other people who are important to him

you found out late

you always felt watched and it creeped you out (even more after horror movies, but they are soooo good, urgh!)

you begun to get paranoid, Jin Woo laughed it off after you told him knowing damn well why you felt like that

he cursed about your good senses, even if you weren't a Hunter

Jin Woo felt bad for you and thought about telling you but he thought that it might freaked you out more

Well, maybe it would have been better to tell you

It would have saved you from a almost heart attack after Igris emerged from your Shadow to scare a burglar who broke into your apartment

The mess was.....well, a mess

You first screamed at the burglar, after Igris scared him off, you screamed at Igris, taking the next best thing you had next to you (a book) and begun to hammering down onto him

he just stood there, taking the book from you and trying to calm you down

He needed more than two hours to calm you down and signaling you who he belongs to

If Jin Woo had informed you he would have saved himself from you calling him angrily at 3 in the morning just to cuss him out

After that, it begun to get awkward at first

you were very aware of him. Like, when you changed your clothes or went into the shower.

But after Jin Woo explained that he don't watches of you like ALL the time you begun to get used to him

He got to be a part of your life somehow

Watching movies every other night

helping you with studies sometimes like pointing out obvious things

Talking to him about the newest gossip from your university

he even played with your pet when you couldn't because of your studies!

To say Jin Woo was tired, was an utter understatement. He was so tired that he went to crash at your place. His teleportation was on cooldown and his own apartment was way too far away. His tired limbs limbs wouldn't carry him that far anymore. The Dungeon was easy for him. The Monster were low but there were many and his teammates were....incompetent to say. He was mentally and physically tired and your place was the one who was near. The tired Hunter wasn't prepared for the sight in front of him when he opened the door to your apartment with his spare key. There you were, sitting in the bedroom. In front of your mirror. Seated in Igris lap. Telling him something animated, gesticulating like there is no tomorrow while Igris was doing your hair in.....ways Jin Woo never knew that would be possible. It was quit a sight and funny to see Igris nods and gesticulations to show you how he reacts to some things. The way he lifted a hand in front of his mouth like he was surprised or how he eagerly nodded. He even seemed to learn the gesticulation for "crazy". "What....?" "Oh! Jin Woo! What brings you here?" you and Igris seemed totally unfazed by the Hunter who just looks at you as if you have grown a third limb. His General just winked him shortly and went back to doing your hair. "I...uh..." the Hunter was at loss for words for a short time. Way too tired to really get what is happening "I...just wanted to crash here..if it's okay?" "Oh sure! Just sleep on the bed! I can totally sleep in Igris lap." ".....what?!" "yeah! He is really comfy. Already happened in the past while we watched horror movies. Oh by the way, Igris! Do you want to watch the new Godzilla movie? You know, the one with that huuuuge lizard we watched last time." The soldier just nodded while you jumped up. Making the bed ready for Jin Woo and giving him spare clothes of his that he left by you in case he comes to visit. "I....uh...thanks.." you were already out of the room when he thanked you so he looked confused at his General who just stared at him "And...you are okay with this?" a nod was his answer and the hunter sighed before smiling softly "It seems like you two bonded really quick, huh?" the shadow Knight rubbed his head sheepishly. "Well, that isn't so bad I guess. Now I know they are in good hands..not that I did not know this before." again a curt nod "Does she....always involves you like this?" "Like what?" you came back to the room, wondering where Igris is. "Like, in your day and all." "Yeah sure, why not? I mean, he is almost all the time with me when you don't need him and I bet it is boring just being in my shadow." "I...don't know if he even can get bored." "I bet he does! Anyway, aren't you tired?" You left him seconds later alone after saying this. Dragging Igris to the living room to watch a movie together like you do every night.

This was a request from @sung-jinuwu Thank you for your patience. I hope you're doing okay and I hope you like what I did there.

[marvinswriting]

ménage, chapter three

previous chapter, masterpost now it gets interesting riley pov

The house was old. It was creaky, drafty, and so very old. The floors creaked whether somebody was walking in or not. The windows rattled when it rained hard. The wind could and would blow open windows if nobody locked it. Riley wasn’t new to random creaks It was a livable house. Not like- falling down at any moment. There were just a couple minor inconveniences. All things that were perfectly explainable. Yet Megan’s latest take was a case of the ghosts.

 Matteo was quick to shoot it down. “Not everything that’s old is haunted” he declared but he didn’t deter the girl. The two of them had debates at breakfast about the logistics behind the possibility of ghosts. Matteo brought numbers to the table and science, while Megan talked about temperatures and energy levels. Riley wasn’t sure whose side she was on during these meals. Did she think the house was haunted? No. Were ghosts real? Maybe, who knows. But at the top of it all, the horror movie they watched a couple hours prior likely didn’t help. Horror movies before bed never worked out, and horror movies before bed with an amped up paranormal Megan really never worked out. Which was why Riley wasn’t surprised when there was a knock at her and Evan’s door. “Yeah?” The other teen asked from his side of the room. They were both in bed, but the lights were still on. Riley was reading and Evan was on his phone. Megan poked her head into the room. “Can I hang with you guys for a bit?” “Of course,” Riley knowingly made room on her bed. “C’mere.” Megan sat down and Evan crossed the room too to squish in between them. “What’s up?” He asked. “The house is haunted, I know it.” “Meg, I don’t think it’s-” Megan’s glare at Evan cuts him off. “There’s weird creaks on the first floor, we’ve got random cold spots, and I feel like there’s always somebody watching me.” “The house is just old.” Riley said. “It’s drafty and creaky. The sounds you hear are just it settling.” “An old house doesn't watch me.” Riley wasn’t sure a “your paranoid’ accusation was the best thing to say at the moment. But the “it’s your imagination, Meg” that she settled for wasn’t much better. “It’s not my imagination! Riley sometimes at night I wake up and I can feel these eyes on me and-” “May I suggest- you have anxiety.” Evan cut in. “Don’t diagnose me.” Megan rolled her eyes. “I didn’t expect you guys to believe me but I guess the bar was too high to expect a bit of sympathy, huh.” Riley could tell she wasn’t actually upset as the younger girl nudged both of them. “I think it’s been one to many ghost hunting shows for Ms. Meggie.” Evan said. “My ghost hunting shows are a staple in my personality!” “And that’s the issue here, I believe.” Riley smiled at the two of them. Despite the high horse Evan took, there was a time where he and her thought the house was haunted as well. It was easy to assume everything old had ghosts, and the ghosts were easy to blame for the odd noises. They had to have been Megan’s age, maybe younger- when they approached Rebeckah about building a ghost trap like in GhostBusters. Rebeckah then pointed out that nobody had died on the property, so it couldn't be haunted, and that was the end of that. Megan was harder to persuade. “Meg, even if there’s a little ghostie, I don’t think it would hurt you.” Riley said. “You’re just a sweet little girl, what motive would it have?” “I’m not little.” “Yes, yes you are. To me, you’re little.” Evan teased, earning a smack on the arm from Megan. “And you’re little to Riley. So shut up.” “I am younger than Riley by four weeks.” “And that’s like, almost a full month.” Riley smiled “So you’re both little.” Evan scoffs, but the smile on his face betrays him. There’s no heat to any of their jabs, just bickering to distract Meg. And it was working. “I’m gonna go get some water, want any?” Riley asked. “Might make you feel better, Meg.” “No thanks.” “Can I have some?” Evan asked. “No.”

She made her way downstairs quietly but her steps echoed through the area anyway.  The only sounds Riley could hear was the air conditioning’s soft whir and the floor creaking under her footsteps. The downstairs was pitch black, with no light peeking under bedroom doors to guide the way- but Riley knew where the furniture was to maneuver around it. With Evan upstairs comforting Megan, she’d either be over the ghost by next week, or annoyed enough to move on. It was fifty-fifty, but neither outcome hurt. All it meant was no more late night horror movies for Megan. The kitchen had a big window over the counter, faintly filling the room with moonlight. Riley’s eyes adjusted to it quickly as she stepped around the kitchen- grabbing two glasses and then water from the fridge. The sound of the cups clinking together was louder than we intended, echoing through the silent house. She cringed. Sound traveled well in the house, and there was a high possibility she just woke up some people. Riley stood, unmoving, in the kitchen- listening carefully for a sign of disturbance. Silence. After a good thirty seconds, she relaxed, slipping the water pitcher back into the fridge. Then she heard it. A sound so soft she almost missed it over the shutting of the fridge. A sound she really only heard because she was listening out. A soft clang, like metal hitting the title. Like a child out of bed trying to be sneaking, perhaps. She turned around, ready to tell Lanna or Kenny to go back to bed, that it was just her with some glasses and she was sorry- -but there was nobody there. The kitchen was just as empty as it was when she entered. “Megan?” Silence. Had she imagined it? Probably. How strange. Riley shook her head, picking up the glasses. Megan got her amped up, that’s all. She was thinking about ghosts more, and her brain was picking up on sounds that she would normally ignore thanks to the glasses. That was all. Jesus, maybe she should sit out on the next horror movie too. It was just the house settling. Riley nudged her bedroom door open, passing a water to Evan and resuming her spot on her bed. “You okay, Rye? You look kinda pale.” Evan started. “Like you’ve seen a ghost or something.” Megan’s eyes widened. “Wait no-” He backtracked quickly. Riley smiled. “No ghosts. Just tired.” Megan yawned. “Should I go back to my room? It’s late.” “Stay as long as you like Meggie.” Evan shrugged. “We’re never too old to have sleepovers like back in the day. But with or without you, I am going to sleep.” He flopped back on his own bed, turning off the light on his side of the room. “It’s a tempting offer, truly,” Megan started. “But I feel better now, I can go back to my own room, thanks guys.” “Anytime, Meg.” Riley smiled. But even when Megan left, Riley only dimmed the light on her side. She kept her book open as an excuse and tried to block out the little sounds her brain was now obsessed with picking up. Every little creak and groan of the house that she had taught herself to ignore was now at the forefront of her mind. Thanks, Megan and no more late night horror.

wc: 1278 hmmm “metal hitting tile” tag list bc soy and alex yelled at me: @smallsoysauce @musicallygt​ n e ways

[seaofghouls]

DSMP FALLS! <1>

Ah! Summer break! A time for leisure, recreation, and taking her easy.

..Unless you're me.

A pair of triplets crash through a billboard with a go-kart. "AAAAAHHH!" Being followed by a monster of unimaginable horror. "It's getting closer!" One of the triplets cried. My name is Y/N. The boy to the right of me about to puke is my triplet brother, Tubbo, while the boy to my left screaming profanities is my other triplet brother, Tommy. You may be wondering what we're doing in this situation. "Look out!" Tubbo cried. "Agh!" Y/N screamed. "This monster is such a bitch!" Tommy cried. "Tommy!" Tubbo frowned. Rest assured, there's a perfectly logical explanation!

... Let's rewind. It all began when our parents decided we could use some fresh air. They shipped us up to Gravity Falls, Oregon, to stay with our great uncle in the woods. "This attic is amazing! Just look at all of my splinters!" Tubbo cried. "..And there's a fucking goat on my bed." Tommy sighed.

Tubbo walked up to the goat.

"Hey, new friend! Yes, you can keep chewing on my shirt!" Tubbo giggled. Y/N giggled as well. Tubbo and Tommy seemed to look on the bright side of things. I, however, was having a bit of a harder time getting used to our new surroundings. "Boo!" "Aagh!" Y/N jumped up from their spot from under a tree. An old man took off a mask and started laughing. And then there was our great uncle Schlatt. That guy. Our uncle had transformed his house into a tourist trap called the Mystery Shack. The real mystery is why anyone came. And guess who had to work there? Y/N sighed, sweeping the floor. Tubbo reached out to touch something in this gift shop before Schlatt slapped his hand away.

"No touching the merchandise!" He said. Tommy snickered and touched it anyway out of spite. It seemed like it was going to be the same routine all summer, until one fateful day.

"Alright, look alive folks! I need someone to go hang up these signs in the spooky part of the forest." Schlatt said. "Not it!" The triplets said at the same time. "Also not it." Ranboo said. "Nobody asked you, Ranboo." Schlatt said. "I know and I'm comfortable with that." Ranboo smiled. "Niki! I need you to put up these signs!" Schaltt said. "I would.. but I can't.. reach." She trailed off. "I'd fire all of you if I could." Schlatt sighed. "Okay, let's make it eeny, meeny, miny, you." Schlatt pointed at Y/N. "Yes!" Tommy and Tubbo exclaimed. "Awe what? Gruncle Schlatt, whenever I'm in those woods I feel like I'm being watched." Y/N said. "Oh, this again." He rolled his eyes. "I'm serious, something weird is going on! Just today, my mosquito bites spelled out beware!" Y/N said, showing schlatt their arm. "...That says bewarb." Schlatt said. "Look kid, the whole monsters in the forest thing is just a local legend. Drummed up by guys like me to sell merch to guys like that." Schlatt pointed at a guy distracted by a schlatt bobblehead. "So quit being so paranoid!" Schlatt said. ... "Ugh, Gruncle Schlatt. nobody ever believes what I say." Y/N groaned as they hammer signs in the forest. They hammer another tree but stop when they hear metal. "huh?" They hit it the hammer again in curiosity. Finding a secret door with a machine inside, they mess with the buttons for a bit before something opens up behind them. "What the.." Reaching into the hole, they find a dusty old journal. They brush it off and start reading. "Woah.. trust no one, huh?" Y/N mumbled. "Hello!" Tubbo exclaimed. "What are you reading, some nerd book?" Tommy asked. "Uh-uh, it's nothing!" Y/N exclaimed. "Uh-UH IT'S NOTHING!" Tommy mocked. "What, are you seriously not gonna show us?" Tubbo asked. "..Let's go somewhere more private," Y/N said. ... "It's amazing! Gruncle Schlatt said I was being paranoid, but apparently, Gravity Falls has this secret dark side!" Y/N exclaimed. "WOAH!" Tubbo exclaimed. "SHUT UP!" Tommy pushed Y/N with a grin on his face. "Get this! After a certain point, the pages just stop! Like the guy who was writing it mysteriously disappeared!" Y/N exclaimed.

The doorbell rang. "Who's that?" Y/N asked. "Welp, time to spill the beans! This guy's got a platonic date!" Tubbo grinned. "Platonic??" "Date??" Schlatt walked in as Tubbo came back in with someone. "Hey family, I want you to meet my new platonic boyfriend!" Tubbo exclaimed. "Sup." He said. "Hey." Y/N and Tommy said. "How's it hanging?" Schlatt finger gunned. "We met at the cemetery. He's really deep." Tubbo smiled. "..What's your name?" Y/N asked. "Normal.. Man!" He groaned out. "He means Norman." Tubbo giggled. "..Are you bleeding, Norman?" Tommy asked. "..It's jam." Norman said. Y/N stared at him in suspicion before Tubbo dragged Norman away. There was something with Norman that wasn't right. I decided to consult the journal. Y/N read the journal out loud. "Known for their pale skin and bad attitudes.. these creatures are often mistaken for.. TEENAGERS?!" Y/N exclaimed. "Beware Gravity Falls' nefarious ZOMBIES?!" Y/N gasped. "Zombies??" Tommy gasped. He was sitting there with Y/N. "Tommy, outside!" Y/N exclaimed. "Oh, no! Tubbo!" They both yelled. Norman lurched towards Tubbo, grabbed him, and put a flower crown on him. "Daisies?? You scallywag!" Tubbo gushed. "Is our brother dating a zombie or are we just going nuts?" Tommy muttered. "It's a dillema to be sure." Charlie said. "Agh!" Y/N jumped. "I couldn't help but overhear you guys talking to yourselves in this empty room." Charlie explained. "Charlie, you've seen Tubbo's platonic date, right? He's got to be zombie!" Y/N said. "Hm.. how many brains did you see the guy eat?" Charlie asked. "Zero.." Y/N sighed. "Look, dudes, I believe you. I'm seeing strange thing in this town all the time. Like, the mailman, I'm pretty sure that guy's a werewolf. But! You gotta have proof, or else people will think you're a major cukoo clock." Charlie said. "As always, big C, you're right." Tommy said. "My wisdom is both a wisdom and a curse." Charlie said. "Charlie! The toilets are clogged again!" Schlatt called out. "I am needed elsewhere." Charlie took off. Y/N and Tommy decided to work together to get some evidence. Throughout their studies, Norman certainly had strange behavior, but not enough to convict him of anything supernatural. "I'll talk to Tubbo, don't worry, sib!" Tommy said. "Alright." Y/N nodded. ... Tommy walked into the triplets' shared room. "Tubbo, we've got to talk about Norman." Tommy said. "I know! Isn't he great?? Look at this smooch mark he gave me!" Tubbo turned his head to show a large red area on his face. "Egh!" Tommy cried. "Hah! Gullible. It was just an accident with the leafblower. That was fun." Tubbo laughed. "No, listen, Tubbo! I'm trying to tell you that Norman is not what he seems! The journal that Y/N found!" Tommy insisted. "You think he might be a vampire?? That would be awesome!" Tubbo gasped. "Guess again, big T! A zombie he is!" Tommy said. "A zombie?? Not funny, Tommy!" Tubbo frowned. "I'm not joking! Y/N can agree, it all adds up! The bleeding, the limp, he never blinks! Have you noticed that??" Tommy exclaimed. "Maybe he's blinking when you're blinking." Tubbo suggested. "HE'S GOING TO EAT YOUR BRAINS, BIG T!" Tommy shook Tubbo. "Tommy! Listen to me. Norman and I are going on a date tonight and I'm going to be adorable! He's going to be dreamy! And I'm not going to let you and Y/N ruin it with another one of your crazy conspirices!" Tubbo kicked Tommy out. "Ah man.. what am I gonna do??" Tommy slumped against the door. Someone sat down next to him. "How'd it go, bro-bro?" Y/N asked. "He's refusing to listen.. He kicked me out." Tommy sighed. Y/N frowned. "Not surprising. Hopefully he'll come to that realization in his own." ... The two out of three triplets were sitting on the couch, looking over the footage. "I guess we don't have any actual evidence, huh?" Y/N sighed. "Yeah.. I guess we can be kinda paranoid sometimes-" Tommy stopped. In the footage clip, Norman's hand fell off and he put it back on. "WAIT WHAT?!" Tommy and Y/N exclaimed. They leaped off

the

couch in a hurry. "WE WERE RIGHT! HOLY SHIT!" Tommy exclaimed. Racing outside, the two tried to find their uncle. "GRUNCLE SCHLATT! GRUNCLE SCHLATT!" Y/N called out. Schlatt wasn't paying attention.

"Wait! Niki has the cart!" Tommy suggested. "Good eye, Tommy!" Y/N grinned. "Niki! Niki! We need the cart to save our brother from a zombie!" They ran up to her. "Try not to hit any pedestrains." She winked, giving them the keys. "Alright, Tommy! Let's go save our sister!" Y/N grinned. They backed up before Charlie stopped them. "Dudes! This is for the zombies." He handed them a shovel. "Thanks." Y/N grinned, "This is in case you see a pinata." He handed them a bat. "..Thanks?" Tommy said. "Better safe than sorry!" He called out. Tommy and Y/N sped off to find their brother. They heard screams and drove to the direction of the sound. "LET'S GO!" Y/N exclaimed. "Get his arm there, Steve!" Tubbo was struggling against several gnomes. "WHAT THE FUCK IS GOING ON HERE?!" Tommy exclaimed. "Tommy! Y/N! Norman turned out to be a bunch of gnomes! And they're total assholes!" Tubbo cried.

"Gnomes..? We were way off." Tommy mumbled. Y/N flipped open the journal. "Damn.. no weaknesses." They sighed. "Hey! Hey! Let go of my brother!" Y/N demanded. "This is all one big misunderstanding. Your brothers not in any danger! He's just marrying all one thousand of us and becoming our king for all of eternity!" The lead gnome explained. "Give him back right now, or else, prick!" Tommy demanded. "You think you can stop us, child? You have no idea what we're capable of!" The gnome went on a tangent before Tommy scooped him up with the shovel and tossed him to the side. Y/N used that chance to free Tubbo, dragging him back to the kart with Tommy. "GO GO GO!" Tubbo exclaimed. "I wouldn't worry about it. See their little fucking legs? Those pricks are tiny." Tommy smirked. Tommy stopped when they heard the noises of a creature. A giant gnome creature, to be exact. "Damn." Tubbo said. "MOVE! GO GO GO!" Y/N screeched. The giant creature chased them through the forest. Gnomes launched onto the kart. "Agh!" Tubbo exclaimed. "GET OFF MY FACE!" Y/N cried. "I got you, sib!" Tubbo punched the gnome, while also accidentally punching Y/N several times before the gnome let go, revealing new bruises on Y/N's face. "..Thanks bro.." They winced. "Look out!" Tubbo cried. They crashed into the back of the Mystery Shack. They were officially cornered. The triplets hugged each other in terror. "W-where's Gruncle Schlatt??" Y/N asked. "It's the end of the line, kids! Tubbo, marry us before we do something crazy!" The lead gnome ordered. "There's gotta be a fucking way out of this.." Tommy muttered. "I gotta do it." Tubbo decided. "What?!" The other two triplets exclaimed. "Tubbo, are you crazy?!" Y/N asked. "Trust me." Tubbo said. "..What??" Tommy gasped. "Trust me, just this once, guys." Tubbo said. The two hesitated and then nodded. "Alright, Jeff. I'll marry you." Tubbo stepped forward. "Hot dog!" The lead gnome climbed down to Tubbo. "You may now kiss the groom." Tubbo said after the lead gnome put a ring on his finger. "Well, I don't if I do!" The lead gnome grinned, puckering up. Tubbo took that chance to hit him with the leafblower that was left outside. "Agh!" The gnome screamed. "That's for lying to me! That's the breaking my heart! And that's for messing with my siblings!" Tubbo shot the gnome off into the forest and the rest of the gnomes scattered away. As the triplets walked back into the Mystery Shack, Tubbo stopped them. "Hey, Y/N, Tommy, I'm sorry. You two were really just trying to look out for me." Tubbo sighed. "Oh, don't be like that! You saved our asses back there!" Tommy smiled. "I guess I'm just sad that Norman turned out to be a bunch of gnomes." Tubbo sighed. "Hey, look on the bright side! Maybe the next one will be a vampire." Y/N giggled. "You're just saying that." Tubbo giggled, punching their shoulder. "..Awkward triplet hug?" Y/N suggested. "Awkward triplet hug." Tommy and Tubbo said together, the three of them in a hug. ... "Yeesh, you three get hit by a bus or something? Hahah!" Schlatt laughed. The triplets ignored him. "Hey, um,, I accidentally overstocked some items, why don't you three take something?" Schlatt said. "What's the catch?" Y/N raised an eyebrow. "The catch is do it before I change my mind, now go!" Schlatt said. The triplets grinned at each other. Tubbo picked out a grappling hook, Tommy picked out a music disc, and Y/N picked out a a hat with a bat symbol on it. ... This journal told me that there was no one you could trust. But when you go up against an army of gnomes with side by side with two people, you realize they probably got their back. "Tubbo, can you get the light?" Y/N asked. "You got it, sib!" Tubbo shot the grappling hook at the light. "Oh, for fuck's sake!" Tommy rolled his eyes. Tubbo and Y/N giggled. Our uncle told us there was nothing strange about this town, but who knows what other secrets are waiting to be unlocked? -------

[sonnetthebard]

Owen doesn't really like horror movies and he gets paranoid pretty easily because of them. He hates that it happens and never tells anyone about it, he thinks its embarrassing for someone like him to be set off by something as simple as a movie. Curt also didn't know, until he proposed watching a horror movie one night. Owen went along with it because he knew Curt wanted to watch it with him and tried his best to sit through it, but Curt picked up on how uncomfortable he was -S

I know this was supposed to be headcanons, but... I had to write this as a oneshot. I absolutely love it.

Genre: Fluff/ Romance/ Angst

Words: 3171

TL;DR: Owen is not a fan of horror movies.

TW: Anxiety/ Triggering, brief mention of violence, panic attack, minor implied ptsd.

"Darling, I'm home!" Owen called into his shared hotel room teasingly.

"What, you're done scoping out the venue already?" Curt smirked, making his way out of his room, already dressed down to just a dress shirt (with a few buttons undone) and dress pants.

Owen smirked at that. Evidently Curt had decided his work for the day was over. They were in the primary stages of a small mission- one that should be simple. Intercept the passing of information from the French to the Russians- no matter the cost. If they had to kill someone, so be it. It may be an easy mission, but it was a crucial one. It was set to happen at the ballroom in one of the biggest estates in London during a gala hosted by its owners- set to happen in two days. The owners weren’t royalty, but they were rich- which probably made them more powerful than royalty either way. The event was going to be massive. Royalty and dignitaries from all around the world would be there- and, of course, the informants they were there to stop. If they didn't intercept this information... well, let's just say the Soviets would have a rather large military advantage. And that wasn't something anyone wanted.

Earlier in the day, Curt and Owen had gone out and met the family hosting the gala- who were in full support of their work. They’d even offered to be so good as to give them a discreet signal when their marks arrived. Of course Owen had turned that down because, even with good intentions, the utilization of untrained assets was always a risk. Once they were done with that meeting, Curt and Owen had done some genuine espionage. They were lucky. Their informant had told them when and where their marks would be in preparation for the gala. So they'd alternated locations to watch their opponents. That way no one got suspicious seeing the same two people watching them everywhere they went. Then Owen, being the keener that he was, had gone to the ballroom and scoped it out. He always loved that part of planning. Plus, the house was practically a castle, and it was old. Owen just wanted to see it. It was a marvel of architecture. But it was at least a productive visit. He had a good sense of the place. 

Now, though... Now Owen was exhausted. He'd had a big day preparing for not only his physical game but his mental one. So he was more than happy to be back with the man he loved. And he really did love Curt, in spite of his flaws. Owen was well aware of those. He would have to have been dull not to take them into account when preparing for their romantic relationship. Owen knew he was the more fit spy. He knew Curt could be a bit... careless at best, reckless at worst. And boy, did Curt’s ego ever get the better of him sometimes. But Curt was one of the most affectionate people Owen had ever met. His heart was massive, and he was as loyal as a dog. That was more than enough for Owen. They would follow each other to the ends of the earth. Owen may not have the smartest lover in the world, but... he had never felt more loved by one person. Not even his own parents.

"Already? Love, I was there for nearly three hours." Owen chuckled softly.

"You must be exhausted." Curt rolled his eyes playfully.

"As a matter of fact I am!" Owen scoffed, smirking and setting his jacket on the rack. Curt walked over to him, wrapping his arms over his shoulders and kissing him gently. Owen hummed into it, snaking his arms around Curt's waist. "What are you up to, Mega? Trying to breathe some life back into me?"

"No... I just missed you." Curt blushed lightly, still smirking and trying to play this off as cool as he could. "Am I not allowed to kiss my favourite partner after a long day of work?"

"Oh, you're more than welcome to..." Owen winked, giving him another gentle peck. He rested his forehead on Curt's, sighing. "I would say you could kiss me any time you’d like, but... well... we both know the world isn't quite ready for that."

"I know." Curt sighed. "One day..."

"We can only hope." Owen agreed. He gave Curt one more small peck of reassurance before, pulling away, walking into their room. "So what have we got for plans tonight? I was thinking maybe we could grab a bite at the fish and chips stand down the street. It's quite good. Then... maybe we could go to the cinema?"

"Actually... I was thinking maybe we could stay here." Curt bit his lip. "We've got a television here, and... they're showing Creature From The Black Lagoon on one of the channels we pick up. I missed it in the theatres while we were in Germany, and I've been hoping to see it for a few years now. It's a horror movie, and I've heard the special effects in it are great! We could watch it together!"

"Oh..." Owen bit his lip, breath hitching a bit at that.

Now... there was a bit of a dilemma. Owen came off as very suave, very tough, and impenetrable but... he had a bit of a problem with horror films. That, and films surrounding espionage. He didn't know what it was about the visual medium of storytelling that was becoming so popular, but... it affected him deeply. It was as though it set off something deep inside him, and brought up all his own fears. Even if they weren’t the fears discussed in the movie. As tacky as the movies were with their corny monsters and questionable acting they sparked his anxietes. Even worse to Owen was the irrational paranoia that came with it. The fear of something that didn't even exist. Even the things that very clearly could *never* exist. Like Dracula. Still, if Curt wanted to watch one with him, he would do his best to sit through it. Maybe he could focus his attentions on Curt and not the movie. Or maybe this movie wouldn’t get to him so badly. 

"Oh what?" Curt checked, the smallest trace of concern riddling his features.

"It's nothing." Owen chuckled, trying to mask his lie. He didn't want Curt worrying about him for something so trivial. "I would love to. What are we doing for supper though?"

“I didn’t think that through.” Curt admitted. “We, um... well, we’ve got half an hour before the movie starts. Maybe we could grab fish and chips and eat it here while we watch?”

“Sure thing, love.” Owen sighed. “You want me to go and get it, then?���

“That works for me.” Curt nodded. 

“And do you want me to get some crisps for later in case you get a bit peckish?” Owen checked. 

“Can a get a translation of that?” Curt teased. He knew most of what Owen meant, he just loved bothering him and he knew how much his boyfriend hated Americanisms.

“Do I really have to?” Owen groaned. Curt just raised his brows in expectation. “Fine. You’re lucky I love you... Do you want me to get you some ‘potato chips’ for later in case you get the ‘munchies’?”

“I would love some potato chips.” Curt smirked triumphantly. 

“‘Potato chips’...” Owen grumbled, grabbing his jacket again. “Bloody Americans butchering our language...”

“Love you too!” Curt called out the door teasingly as Owen left. 

The fish and chips place wasn’t far down the street. It was one Owen knew well- his parents had even taken him there as a child. He remembered those days... Things were simpler. Not nearly as complicated as his life had become. But that wasn’t why Owen was so eager to get out of the hotel room. No, Owen wanted the space alone to brace himself and prepare himself for this movie. Because he’d always been strong for Curt. He didn’t want Curt seeing him weak. So he just needed a bit of fresh air. That’s also why he’d volunteered to get the crisps (no matter what Curt wanted to call them). Extra time to steel himself. He took his time, but even then he only spent twenty minutes out of the house. Still... it was better than having had no time at all to prepare. He took deep breaths, making his way back to the hotel room. 

“Alright, darling. I have the food.” Owen called him, taking his shoes off and walking into the hotel. He set the food down on the coffee table. Curt walked out, dress shirt completely gone now. In it’s place, a white tank top. He was in denim jeans now, likely so that he didn’t ruin his dress pants. Owen smirked. “I thought we were supposed to be watching a movie, love...”

“We are.” Curt furrowed his brows, confused. He sat down on the couch, taking one of the meals for himself. Owen shrugged his jacket off, hanging it back up. He then joined Curt on the couch, a teasing glint in his eyes. 

“Well... you’re very distracting...” Owen hummed. Curt blushed. 

“I can put my shirt back on...” Curt mumbled. 

“No, darling. Don’t do that.” Owen sighed contentedly, taking the meal Curt hadn’t taken and setting it in front of himself. Curt had taken out his multi-purpose hunting tool and a pocket knife to eat with, but Owen stopped him. He pulled out the provided cutlery. “Here, darling. We can eat like civilized people”

“Right.” Curt flushed again. 

“You’re adorable when you’re all worked up.” Owen chuckled. 

“You’re a bully, you know that?” Curt grumbled, getting up and walking over to their in-room television. They were lucky. Not many hotels had them, but... this one did. Their superiors didn’t mind splurging a little on their accomodations, because it usually meant they were better rested for their job. 

“I’m not a bully...” Owen chuckled, his heartrate picking up again at even the thought of what he was about to watch. “I’m just a tease, doll.”

“So you admit it?” Curt smirked triumphantly, fiddling with the knobs to adjust the channel. 

“Only this once.” Owen rolled his eyes playfully. 

“I think I... there we go!” Curt beamed as the television crackled onto the right station. The scoring to a typical horror movie started. Owen gulped, already not liking this. Curt seemed to pick up on that. “You okay?”

“Absolutely fine.” Owen lied. Curt sighed, coming back and sitting down. 

Both men sat in silence, eating and watching the movie. Owen tried to focus on his food, blocking out the movie and his surroundings. But... that was unfortunately very hard to do. Especially when Curt was so invested. The man was leaning as far forward onto his knees as he possibly could. He thought Curt might have said something about Owen being right about the fish and chips, but Owen didn’t really hear it. He was caught in his head, in a way. And in many other ways, he was totally and uterly absorbed in the movie, trapped without consent the the saga being recounted on the screen. He didn’t even notice when he finished his food, caught up in everything. 

And then... then came the moment Owen was dreading. The one that had his palms sweating and his body tense the entire night. Even with all that awful anticipation it caught him completely by surprise. Just as it was meant to. For some people, that was the thrill of the game. To him, it wasn’t. To him, it was not just truly terrifying, but also... humiliating. Totally and utterly humiliating. Especially in front of his Curt. Curt, who thought he was this suave, impenetrable rock. Curt, whom he was the foundation. Curt got to watch him cower like a child. The moment of dread was, of course, the first jumpscare. And just as Owen had predicted, he had jumped right out of his seat, yelping. Curt saw him and... he started to laugh. 

The world caved in for Owen. It was a mix of the genuine fear he’d experienced watching the movie, the fears that fear alone had resurface, and the humiliation. He felt in a way that he was disappointing Curt already. And the laughing... it rang in his ears even once Curt had finished. Because this time Curt wasn’t laughing with him- he was laughing at him. He tried to mask it, but he was far too caught up in his head to have any control over what his face did. He shook a little bit. He couldn’t even fear anything around him. He had tunnel vision, and everything sounded like it was underwater. Owen hated it. He knew then and there that trying to be tough had not been the right move. That he should have said no to Curt. But it was far too late for that realization to be any good. 

At first, Curt had admittedly thought it was funny that Mr. Tough Guy Owen Carvour himself had fallen victim to the classic jumpscare. And he would be the first to admit he had laughed a long time- especially when he thought that for once he had been the one to fluster Owen and not the other way around. But then, when Owen neglected to come back with any snide remarks... When he didn’t tell Curt to shut up, or even chuckle along with him... That was when Curt knew that now was not the time to be laughing. That something was genuinely wrong. That was when he finally took the time to notice that his lover was shaking, and the fear that had been in his eyes when he jumped had not vanished- even though the protegonists were safe. Curt took Owen’s hand’s carefully. Owen twitched in what could be a flinch, but put up no fight. That was the final tip-off for Curt that sommething was very wrong. He got in front of Owen carefully. 

“Hey... Hey, Owen. You’re okay.” Curt soothed. Owen seemed to snap a bit out of it- enough to see Curt in front of him and look him in the eyes. Curt suppressed his concern and put on a comforting smile for Owen. “That’s right, babe. Look at me. I’m right here. I’ve got you.”

There was a moment of Owen just staring into Curt’s eyes and reminding himself that Curt had his back. That he was safe. Once he had calmed enough to speak, he took a shaky sigh.

“I’m sorry.” Owen mumbled. 

“No... no, don’t be sorry!” Curt shook his head, giving Owen’s hands a squeeze. Immediately as thought that had awakened something in him, Owen was squeezing back as if it were the only thing keeping him on the ground. “You’ve got nothing to be sorry for.”

“Yes I do.” Owen spat, almost as though the words were poison. Self hatred oozed from his tone. “I’ve been lying to you. I’m a coward.”

“You are not a coward...” Curt stated firmly. 

“I bloody well near shit my pants at something I saw on the telly!” Owen pointed out, incredulous. “Something imaginary, on the other side of the screen where it could never harm me.”

“That’s what these movies are made to do, O.” Curt assured him. 

“They’re meant to give people a quick fright.” Owen shook his head. “But... that terrified me. Genuinely scared me.”

“Well... we’ve got pasts.” Curt bit his lip. “We’ve seen stuff. We’ve been the victims of real jumpscares where we could have died. Maybe it reminds you of those. Maybe the lines blurred.”

“Curt, it wasn’t anything we’ve been through that scared me.” Owen softened, nearly whimpering, both scared and embarassed but also pleasing for Curt to listen. “It was that that creature was going to show up behind us and do the same, or... take you away. That poorly dressed, hokey monster that could not be any further from being real. I’m not just a coward. I’m a bloody idiot.”

“You’re not a coward, Owen. And you’re not an idiot. Everyone’s brain is built a bit differently.” Curt soothed him. “You want to protect me... just like I want to protect you.”

“From something that could never hurt us either way.” Owen pointed out. 

“Sometimes that doesn’t matter to the mind.” Curt sighed. “I don’t know if this happens to you when you read all your books, but sometimes someone will tell me a story and I get so invested in it that I’ll feel like I’ve lived through it myself.”

“I know what you mean...” Owen nodded. 

“Well... maybe this movie did the same thing for you.” Curt reasoned. 

“I... suppose.” Owen blinked, realizing Curt made a lot of sense.

“Just like you feel things when you read... you’re feeling things watching this.” Curt sighed.

“Right...” Owen nodded, letting that sink in. 

“You think you can take a few breaths with me, O?” Curt soothed. Owen nodded, following Curt through a few deep breaths until he had stopped shaking and his grip on Curt’s hands had lightened. Once Curt was satisfied, he got up and changed the channel. I Love Lucy was on. He smirked, sitting back down on the couch. For once, he was the one pulling Owen close to cuddle. “We’re going to watch this channel for the rest of the night, okay? I think it’s got some of the good family shows on it.”

“Are you sure?” Owen checked. “I can go lay down. I know you really wanted to watch this film.”

“Yeah, but... not as much as I want to spend time with my handsome British boyfriend.” Curt teased. 

“I love you.” Owen sighed, resting his head on Curt’s chest. 

“I know.” Curt winked playfully, running a hand through Curt’s hair. “Hey, if you’re ever uncomfortable with what I want to do... just tell me, okay? No judgement.”

“Alright.” Owen nodded. 

And so they spent the rest of the night in each other’s arms. Eventually they did switch and Owen was back to holding Curt. He found immense comfort in that- and that Curt didn’t judge him. It was lovely to be totally and utterly enamoured with someone. And that was what he was with Curt- what he was certain they both were. He didn’t focus on the telly (though it did give him a few laughs- that Lucy was always getting into trouble). Instead, he focused on Curt’s hands running though his hair, or the little kisses he was being adornerd with. In other words, he chose to focus on how much he was loved. And that put him in an entirely better place. There was, at least, one thing they could take away from the whole fiasco: no more horror movie nights. They had enough horrors in their own life without needing to worry about anything on the tv. 

[buckyskorpion]

11 hours - part four

Pairing: Biker!Bucky x Reader

Summary: bucky is the mystery you can’t wait to solve. if you can get out of his bed long enough, that is. a biker au.

Warnings: gang-typical violence, sex scenes, alcohol mentions, probably more to come so stay tuned

A/N: super fun chapter, we got some more secret things revealed and some fluff and emosh AND some smut AAAANNNNDDD some drama so really, what more could ya want. thank you so much for reading! i hope you enjoy. i wont be taking tags for this so please dont ask.

title taken from 11 hours by wet | playlist

part one | part two | part three

When Bucky invites you to another party, you don’t pretend you’re not apprehensive about it. The last one didn’t go badly, per se, but it certainly led to some less-than-favourable events which you’d rather not repeat. Bucky pouts, though, gives you big blue puppy eyes and kisses down your neck and chest and across your stomach until his head’s between your legs and you’re saying yes yes yes without any awareness to what you’re agreeing to.

It’s not at Natasha’s house this time, and it’s nothing like that last party. Bucky takes you to a basement bar in Brooklyn, holding your hand as you descend the stairs behind him into moody lighting and deafening levels of classic rock. Something’s different about this night - you can tell in the stiff lines of Bucky’s shoulders under his leather jacket, the tight grip he keeps as he tugs you into his side, the way everyone seems to falter for a beat and stare as Bucky enters the room. There are a lot of scary looking people in here, you realise, and all their eyes are on you.

It’s a relief to see Natasha’s red head weaving through muscles and leather towards you, and that really says something.

To your surprise, she loops her arm in yours just like at the last party and tugs you from Bucky’s side. You hesitate, gripping Bucky’s hand tighter and looking up at him for some kind of nonverbal explanation. He releases your fingers, grazing his hand from yours in a slow slide, and just stares back at you. Sorry, he mouths, and then you lose his head in the crowd of equally tall, muscular men as Natasha drags you further into the bar.

“Let’s get some drinks,” she says, pushing aside two men twice her size to stand at the bar and tap her violet nails on the countertop. You are, as per usual around this woman, lost for words.

“Is Bucky-?” You don’t even know what you want to ask. You’re quickly realising this isn’t a party just to have fun with friends. This is something outside your world, something you don’t understand, and the way Natasha looks at you all shadowed and shuttered confirms it.

“He’ll be back,” is all she says, and nudges a vodka shot towards you. She doesn’t pay, you notice, just taps the glass on the counter and clinks it with yours before throwing it back. You do the same, hissing at the burn, and watch as she orders two more. It’s very Russian, you think, and file that away for later. You down your second shot without a flinch this time.

“Why am I here?” you ask Natasha, scanning the bar before you as if the answer will arise from the crowd.

“You want to be in Bucky’s life?” Natasha raises her eyebrows at you, gestures to the bar with a flick of her wrist and says, “This is a part of it.”

You hum in way of answer, letting that sit with the burning vodka-warmth in your chest starting to slowly drip down, down, down to your toes. This is what you chose - shady rooms with shady men and more questions than answers. A tormenting nightmare for someone as paranoid and curious as you, is probably what your dad would say if he was here but he’s not, so you ignore that little voice and try to find Bucky in the crowd.

Before you can, Sam comes barrelling over to the two of you with his arms held wide. Natasha shies away from him but he sweeps her into a hug anyway, her unimpressed scowl peaking over the top of a muscular arm and making you giggle despite yourself. Sam ruffles her hair and Natasha genuinely looks like she’s about to murder him - you cover your mouth with your hand, far too amused at the interaction for your own safety.

“Welcome!” Sam yells to you, also pulling you into a crushing hug. He moves away, leaving a hand clapped on your shoulder, and asks, “Having fun?”

“We just arrived,” you say, “But the shots are doing wonders for me.”

“Good, have more!” Sam says, and to your absolute horror, reaches over the bar and grabs the bottle of vodka to sloppily pour in your empty shot glass. He tops Natasha up too, and you must look as scandalised as you feel because she starts laughing and nudges Sam, who throws you a charming grin. “Relax! I own the place.”

“Oh,” you say, more than relieved. That didn’t come up on your search, you think, and try to squash that thought down as quickly as it comes. You’re not investigating them anymore, there’s no need to file information away on them like it’s an open case. Smiling, you say, “Well, in that case,” and down the shot Sam and just poured you. You’re on a one-way ticket to tipsy town and you don’t plan on hopping off anytime soon.

Sam leads you to a booth where Steve and one of the regulars from your time watching his tattoo shop sit. He’s got dirty blonde hair and a plaster on his forehead, waving his hands around as he tells a story which makes Steve belly-laugh. You slide in the end after Natasha, the seat opposite you open for whenever Bucky comes back. You wish he’d hurry up, ignoring their conversation in favour of searching the crowd for his dumb head. Out of your depth didn’t even begin to cover what you felt sitting here with Bucky’s friends in Sam’s bar with a bunch of bikers milling around, watching you all like hawks.

“New girl,” the guy you don’t know says, pointing the straw he’d been fiddling with at you. Natasha smacks him upside the head and he barely flinches, like it happens all the time. He says, “Verse me in darts.”

The entire table groans, and the guy throws his hands in the air and scowls at everyone as he cries, “What? None of you lot will play with me anymore.”

“That’s because you’re a master archer, you dickhead,” Sam says, throwing a balled up napkin at the guy’s head. He doesn’t bother dodging it, letting it hit him square on the nose as he turns to you and waggles his eyebrows.

“Whaddya say? No better bonding activity, I reckon,” he says. You dart looks around the table, catching Steve giving you a cut-throat motion and Natasha shaking her head with an eyeroll.

“I’ll start with your name first,” you say, “Then we can move onto darts.”

He introduces himself as Clint, reaching across the table and knocking over Steve’s glass in the process to shake your hand. Everyone devolves into complaints and arguments about Clint ‘taking advantage’ of new people and feeding his ego with ‘easy wins.’ Nonetheless, your small group vacates the booth and moves to the dart board near the pool tables at the back of the bar. The group already there stop playing mid-game and move off as you approach, which is weird and keeps happening so you think it might be something you’ll have to find the guts to ask Bucky about later. Right now, though, Clint is pushing darts into your hand with a smirk and lining up to go first, despite Steve’s exasperated yell of ladies first!

Clint lands a bullseye with his first dart and does a little victory dance on the spot. His friends groan, clearly having seen this too many times. Three bullseye’s later, he’s moving off the mark and opening it up to you with a low, theatrical bow. You curtsy and take his spot, earning a laugh out of Sam and Steve.

“Archery, huh?” you question as you line up your shot, tongue poking out slightly as you concentrate.

“Natasha calls me her very own Robin Hood,” Clint says, and you’re not facing him but you know Natasha throws something at him if his yelp of pain is anything to go by. Wheezing slightly, Clint adds, “Don’t feel bad when you lose.”

“Hmm,” you say, smirking at the dart board. But before you can throw, you catch movement out of the corner of your eye - close cropped hair and a familiar leather jacket weaving it’s way towards you. You turn to Bucky, leaning into him as he slides a hand up your back, over your shoulders to rest on the nape of your neck and tangle in your hair. You hate the way you melt into his side, because everyone’s watching and Natasha is smirking and you should be embarrassed, but. But but but. You missed him, just a bit, and you feel him relax with you in his arms like maybe he missed you a bit, too.

“How did Barton con you into darts, huh?” Bucky asks, looking down to you and the darts still clutched in your hand. You shrug as much as you can under his arm and grin, maybe a bit looser with the shots, but that’s nobody’s business. Bucky is laughing slightly at you but you can’t bring yourself to care when he uses his grip on your neck to spin you around, hands moving to rest on your hips and position you on the mark.

“Not fair! Interference!” Clint calls out, and you feel Bucky’s chest rumble with a laugh from where he’s pressed up behind you. Bucky is supposed to be helping but all you feel is distracted, hazy focus and burning heat starting from your toes and working up to pool in your stomach.

“Oh now you care about fairness,” Sam says, and the group behind you devolves into a loud argument with plenty of name calling.

You’re not paying attention to them, though, as you bring your arm up to aim and Bucky grips your elbow, fixing your form. His breath is hot against your ear as he ducks down, smiling into your skin, and you feel yourself shiver against him. Bucky says low in your ear, “Don’t close your eyes.”

“Thanks for the advice,” you say flatly, and finally shrug him off. He steps back with a laugh, dragging his hands from your hips slowly so you can still feel his fingers long after they’re gone. You take a steady breath and narrow your eyes at the board. You throw, and in a blink your dart is buried in it’s red centre. The argument behind you comes to an abrupt stop.

“Fluke!” Clint sputters in to the silence, pointing wildly at the board as you turn to him. You raise your eyebrows and he flails his arm, nearly smacking Steve in the face. “Barnes helped you!”

“Hardly,” Bucky snorts. You grin at Clint, all teeth, and Clint’s expression drops almost comically as you wink at him.

“Don’t feel bad when you lose,” you tell him, and then proceed to fling your two remaining darts into a neat little cluster on the bullseye in quick succession. Clint shuts up properly this time.

While Steve and Sam descend on Clint to heckle him to an early grave, Natasha grins over at you and says, “You are full of surprises.”

“Not really,” you shrug, “Just learnt to throw knives with my dad instead of throwing balls with my non-existent friends. Nothing interesting.”

“Respectfully disagree,” Bucky murmurs, and suddenly you’re drawn into that ocean-deep stare of his where the rest of the bar ceases to exist. Bucky steps closer and you meet him halfway, the shouts of his friends and the rock music blaring through the speakers and the clink of glasses fades to a dull buzz. Maybe you had one too many shots, because you find yourself swaying into Bucky as he tugs you by the belt loops, or maybe that’s just Bucky you’re drunk on. Now that you’d allowed yourself to fall you were falling fast, a weightless come-up, not a single thought about the crash waiting for you at the end.

Bucky doesn’t leave your side for the rest of the night, always tethered to you somehow, and its alarming how quickly you’ve grown used to having him next to you. Attuned to him, turning when he does and shifting to his every movement so you fit together, his hand in yours or your back to his chest or tucking yourself under his arm. Bucky is just so warm, is all, and under the bulk of his touch you can almost forget where you are, who you’re with.

That is, until a broad man in a leather jacket much like Bucky’s comes up to your booth and leans down to talk in Bucky’s ear. You’re pressed to his side, head tucked against his shoulder while you lazily follow Sam and Steve’s conversation with your eyes half-closed - the vodka is catching up and you’re getting sleepy as the night wears on. The smell of cigarettes and an unfamiliar voice brings you back to the bar, however, and you’re close enough to be able to hear Bucky and the man’s hushed exchange.

“S’done, boss,” the man says, “twenty-three-forty hours, no witnesses.”

“Y’sure?” Bucky murmurs, and the man must nod or something because you feel Bucky clap the man on the shoulder and he walks off, the cloud of cigarette smoke leaving with him. Bucky twists to look down at you on his shoulder only to find you already looking up at him. He is impassive as you stare at him for a few, silent beats before he asks, “Ready to go?”

It takes an hour to extract yourselves from Bucky’s friends and all the people he has to say goodbye to on his way out, and then you’re on Bucky’s bike with your head tucked against his back as he roars through the few blocks back to his apartment. Bucky busies himself flicking lights on and rummaging in his pantry for food while you collapse on the couch, flinging an arm over your eyes. After a few beats you feel him start to unlace your boots, easing them off your feet and throwing them towards the front door. You peak out from under your arm to grin at him, wiggling your toes in his face when your feet are free, and he shoves at them with one big hand and a smile.

Retaliation comes in the form of him throwing his huge, muscled body on top of yours and squashing you into the couch, knocking the breath out of you. He nuzzles his head into the side of your neck and lies there, snaking his arms under your body in a bear hug that leaves you breathless in more ways than one. The moment stretches on, both of you slightly dozing in the early morning hours, until the niggling in your brain gets too insistent and you can’t hold it in any longer.

“When were you gonna tell me tonight was an alibi?” you ask, hating the way Bucky’s body stiffens on top of you. He slowly raises his head, resting his stumbling chin against your collarbone and scanning your face with those puppy eyes you see in your dreams, now.

“You’re too smart for me,” he sighs, rolling off you slightly so you can shift onto your side and face him, two half-brackets on the couch. Bucky says, “You know what I do. You were- I said you could leave.”

“It’s not what you do,” you say, shaking your head of the concept of leaving. “It’s being kept in the dark. I just wanna know, I hate not knowing.”

“Too dangerous,” Bucky says, mirroring you as he shakes his head, “The more you know the worse it is.”

“Don’t care,” you say, raising an eyebrow in challenge when Bucky opens his mouth to argue. You press your palm to his cheek, scratching into the short hairs above his ear and dragging your nail over the silvery-scar there where hair won’t grow. Bucky’s eyes flutter shut, eyelashes delicate against the papery skin under his eyes, and you marvel at how soft the looks up close. Only tough from far away, you think. Only soft for you.

“You don’t know what you’re asking,” Bucky says, keeping his eyes closed.

“I figure out secrets for a living, Bucky,” you sigh, “I don’t wanna do that with you as well.”

He looks at you then, the world narrowing to his eyes burning your skin and his breath against your lips. He kisses you, rough stubble and soft lips. Your lips part with a sigh and he rolls on top of you again, hands rucking up under your top to grip your bare waist and hold you there, pressing kiss after kiss on your mouth like he can brand you with just his lips alone.

“You’ll stay?” he murmurs against your mouth, “The night?”

You know what he’s asking. Will you stay, will you listen to the terrible things he’s done and the things he will do and stay anyway, will you let him into your bed and your heart and trust someone you should be afraid of? You kiss him, digging your nails into the side of his neck to hold him there.

“Yeah,” you say, pressing your face against his cheek to kiss the rough skin, murmur words against the corner of his mouth tugging into a smile, “I’ll stay.”

***

The first time you wake up next to Bucky he’s still asleep, lying on his stomach with his cheek smashed into the pillow. One big arm is flung out over your stomach, trapping you to the bed as you blink awake but the heavy weight is comforting. You twist under him to lie on your side, tucking your arms against your bare chest, and watch him sleep like a genuine pyscho. You don’t care. His face is relaxed when he sleeps, peaceful - he looks so beautiful. You want to remember this forever.

Sunlight streams through a gap in the curtains, illuminating the tips of his short hair golden. Pouty lips part, soft in sleep, and there’s a tiny bit of drool pooling on the pillowcase you find yourself smiling at, even though it’s gross. He’s all tan muscles and tattoos lying naked next to you, and you take to tracing the ink on his skin with yours in an attempt to memorise them. His left arm is flung over you, the arm with the sleeve, and the closer you look the more you realise the tattoos cover not just skin, but scars. Old and faded but still there under swirling lines of storm clouds and skulls and the red star in the centre of his deltoid.

How had you missed this? Maybe you hadn’t been looking before, but you’re looking now. From surprisingly thin wrist to meaty shoulder where muscles are bunched and gnarled under a flowery piece which extends down his chest and across his back. His sleeve is a beautiful piece covering not-so-beautiful, painful looking burns and lines and marks you can’t tear your eyes from.

“Stop staring, y’creep,” Bucky mumbles into the pillow, startling you. He grins, eyes closed, and you reach out to whack his side. With the arm across your waist he drags you into him, rolling onto his back and dragging you across his chest without ever opening his eyes. He hugs you close, legs tangling, and doesn’t appear to want to wake up - rather he just holds you and attempts to doze off again, lips pressed against your forehead in a sleepy, lazy kiss.

That won’t do. You’re awake and now effectively trapped - Bucky doesn’t get to go back to sleep like this. With your new vantage point on his chest, you start kissing slow and heady across his skin. Under his collarbone, his shoulder, beside one of the wolves tattooed on his skin making up half his chest piece. Goosebumps form a trail where your lips have been and you grin, victorious. Bucky shivers as you drag your teeth from his peck to his nipple, giving it a quick flick of your tongue. That seals the deal.

Bucky grips the back of your head, fisting your hair and pulling your head up to look at him. Eyes cracked open and bleary with sleep, he glares at you but with no heat. Well, there’s heat. He licks his lips and you track the motion, hungry. Bucky’s lips stretch in a smirk as he watches you watch him. His other hand travels down your back to grip your ass and pull you up in a straddle across his hips.

He pulls you into a kiss and you go willingly with a hand braced on his chest, licking lazy into his mouth. He tastes like sleep and so do you but you really couldn’t care less. His mouth is hot and his skin is sun warmed, strong and smooth under your body, seeping into you so it feels like you’re holding the sun inside you. He pushes the warmth into you; tongue in your mouth, squeezing your neck, kneading your ass under one giant palm. Morning sex, you think, is possibly the best thing in this world.

Bucky hums against your mouth and shifts, sliding his hand back down your ass to rub his middle finger against your cunt. You gasp, and he bits your lip as you open to him. The contrast of pain and pleasure as he slips a finger inside you is brain-melting. All that heat is concentrated now in the pit of your belly and you roll back against Bucky’s hand, nipping at his jaw when he huffs a laugh at you.

You slide a hand up his neck and into his hair, scratching your nails against his scalp and leaving hot, open mouthed kissed down his jaw, neck, chest - wherever you can reach. When Bucky doesn’t move, just leaves you to grind against his finger, you get frustrated and start using your teeth. He’ll be littered with little bruises soon and he clenches his fist in your hair, tugging in warning, but you keep going. So Bucky groans, slides his hand around to your neck and squeezes until you come to a shuddering stop, panting against his chest. He pulls you up to look at him, smirking at the glassy look in your eyes, and pushes another finger into your cunt without warning.

That makes you moan, which makes Bucky grin because he’s a smug bastard and can never let you win. You can’t remember why you were frustrated anymore, though - you’ve got pinpricks of pleasure bursting all over your skin, from your nail beds to your scalp to the back of your teeth. Bucky tugs you by the neck until he can catch you in a sloppy kiss, tongue too deep and too much teeth but you live for it. He removes his fingers from inside you and you whine into his mouth, clenching your fingers in his hair and your cunt on nothing but it doesn’t stay that way for long. Bucky’s there, he’s pushing into you and you forget how to kiss for a second as all your executive function concentrates on the feeling of Bucky’s dick in you.

It’s slow, sticky with sweat from the too-bright sun on your back, sweet in the way Bucky releases your neck and lies fully back on the pillow just to stare up at you. You sit up in his lap and grind your hips slow, letting your hands rest light on his chest as the urgency dissipates into simple, syrupy-soft want. He runs his hands up and down your thighs and your sensitive skin erupts like starbursts, urging you to slide up and down on his cock just to feel the drag inside you that makes your eyes roll back. You lean forward on him, the angle gets deeper, you stop feeling your toes as the ecstasy snaps up your spine in hot waves.

“Look at me,” Bucky says, voice low and rough with the first words of the day. You hadn’t realised your eyes were closed and they flutter open, barely focusing on the pink pout of his mouth and hazy lust in his eyes. “Look at me, honey.”

“Bucky,” you say in response, any other words lost to you. He slides a hand from your thigh up your stomach, muscles clenching against his touch as you ride him, to cup one of your tits and squeeze. He rolls his thumb over your nipple and you moan, head lolling back on a limp neck and hair tickling your bare back. But you remember what he asked and you come back, eyes finding his and they seem to darken, then, as you keep yourself locked on him.

It’s spilling over. That heat that’s been building since you first woke up is trying to go supernova. Bucky moves to rest one big palm on your back and pushes, rising up to meet you as he squashes your bodies together, seam for sweat-slicked seam. You’re limp against him as he takes over and starts a faster, steadier rhythm. He pounds into you, the only sound in the quiet morning being the slap of your ass against his thighs and it should be kind of embarrassing but you’re way too far gone for that. You unspool with his arm wrapped around you, shuddering against his chest but he doesn’t let you go anywhere. Bucky comes soon after with a groan you swallow as you kiss him, and kiss him, and kiss him until your lips feel numb and your muscles stop shaking.

“Good morning,” you murmur, licking into his smile as he laughs at you.

“Good morning,” he replies, and smacks your ass for emphasis. You yelp and jerk forward at the impact, still sensitive and he’s still inside you. He moans at the friction and you feel heat start trickling against your thighs. It should be gross but somehow it’s insanely hot and you feel yourself clenching just imagining what his come dripping out of you would look like - that’s when you know you need some divine intervention, because you are too far off the deep end.

Bucky holds you tighter to keep you still, leaning back into the pillows to glare at you and say, “Gotta stop that, honey,” because apparently he’s also too sensitive. You start to smile, a little evil and a lot still-turned-on.

“What, this?” You roll your hips slow, all you can manage since you’re a bit worn out yourself, and Bucky legitimately growls. With a very un-sexy screech you find yourself flipped and on your back, Bucky’s cock slipping out of you and his body pressing you firmly into the mattress. He rests on his elbows either side of your head, dipping down to kiss you, and you hum at the feeling of him sliding a thigh between your legs.

“You’re a menace,” he grumbles, eyes flickering open to mock-glare at you. He’s so close that you feel kind of cross-eyed as you stare back.

“I think you like it, tough guy,” you tease. Bucky rolls his eyes but he doesn’t deny it, and you count that as a win.

Bucky finger-fucks you like that, trapped against his mattress and his stupid-soft lips leaving kisses over every inch of your skin. He has to carry you to the shower when you come again, announcing your legs are jelly and it’s his fault so he has to help you or he’s a bad person. He swings you over his shoulder and slaps your ass, calls you a brat, and you bite his shoulder in retaliation.

The shower is more of a water fight than anything else, after that.

“I like waking up to you,” you say once you’re dressed and coffee-d and fed, leaning against his doorway with a squeak of leather from your jacket. Bucky leans against the doorframe over you, dressed in fresh sweats and really threatening your resolve to go get some work done today. You feel soft, undone after this morning, looking up at him and telling him things your self-preservation instincts yell at you to keep to yourself.

“I could get used to it,” Bucky grins, and you punch him on the arm but there’s no force to it. He tugs you in for a hug goodbye, arm slung over your shoulders and ruffling your hair with his stupidly big hand until you squirm away from him. He laughs and you push him, propelling yourself backwards into the hall - mostly so you don’t grab onto his t-shirt and never leave.

“See you later?” You mean it to come out as an offhand statement but your nerves shake through. Bucky’s kilowatt smile breaks through all that fear of rejection and he nods.

“‘Course,” he says, tilting his head, “You’re stuck with me now.”

“Shit,” you say, shaking your head and his laugh follows you all the way down the stairs to the ground floor.

You hesitate at the bottom the stairs. To your left is the laundry room and your familiar route out of Bucky’s apartment building, through the window and the gym parking lot to the block over. Knowing who Bucky is now, what he does, means you have even more reason than ever before to turn that way and keep being a paranoid freak. But it’s mid-morning, now. Someone walks past you up the stairs, the lobby is lit with sunlight, there’s traffic noise and people’s voices and life inside this building. Mid-morning feels very different to three AM.

You’ve just woken up next to Bucky because he likes you, like that, and that makes you brave. You turn right and push out the front door, jogging down the steps to the street with a stupid smile on your face. You shove your hands in your pockets because despite the sunlight it’s still kind of chilly, and you turn to walk towards your apartment for a fresh change of clothes before heading to the office. Your brain still feels like it’s lying in bed next to Bucky, but you try and focus yourself back to the present.

Theres a guy leaning against the building next to Bucky’s, and he stubs his cigarette out as you walk past. When you pass by a parked car a few more buildings down you see in their side mirror that he’s started walking your direction. Stop being crazy, you tell yourself, one time using the front door like a normal person and you freak out, but you keep tabs on him as you walk. Bucky and his room and his touch start to fade from your mind as the stranger does not fade - not into the crowd, not down another street or into a building. He keeps walking, because he’s following you, and that might be paranoia speaking but you’d rather be safe than sorry.

You reach into your pocket for your phone but find yourself hesitating before calling Bucky. You’d only just gotten to the point where you feel comfortable to stay with him, to push past your walls and Bucky’s and dive head-first into whatever this is going to be between you. Telling Bucky someone is tailing you from his apartment would probably build those walls right back up, from both sides. The dark, twisted part of your brain supplies - what if it’s Bucky who’s sent this guy to follow you?

The phone rings one, twice, and picks up on the third. There’s a shuffle, a muttered curse, and you smile before your dad says, “Kroshka, sorry, I dropped the remote. How are you?”

“Great, papa,” you say, a bit louder than necessary, turning your head slightly to look across the street and so your voice travels behind you. Out of the corner of your eye you see your tail slow down, linger back further, when he realises you’re talking to someone who would notice if you suddenly dropped off the line. “What’re you up to?”

“Nothing, it’s early,” he says, sounding a bit suspicious, “Is everything alright?”

“Yeah, yeah,” you say, “Just wondering if you wanted to get lunch today.”

“Of course,” he replies, and you turn the corner to keep on your normal route to home. As you do, you notice your tail has disappeared. You don’t relax, per-say, but you do feel some relief. You barely catch your dad saying, “Wanna get sushi?”

“Sounds great,” you say, “I’ll call you.”

By the time you make it back to your apartment, the glow from this morning has faded. You find yourself in the bathroom, staring at yourself in the mirror and trying to convince yourself this isn’t what you think it is. No one followed you, no one’s after you, and Bucky certainly isn’t having you tailed because that’s insane. But you’ve always been like this, chasing down threads that don’t need to be pulled and finding faces in shadows even when they’re not there.

You should tell Bucky. Your supposed tail is as much a threat to you as it is to him, since he knows where Bucky lives. But something is stopping you, and you don’t pick up your phone. You’re a private investigator, you tell yourself firmly. You can figure this out on your own.

Part 5

~~~

let me know what you think!! thank you all for reading xx oh and listen to the playlist i made pls its fire

[dccomicsimagines]

What’s Lost is Found - Batfamily Imagine - Part Seven

Warning - Depressive Thoughts, Angst Content

Note from Anon - I absolutely love your writing! You're definitely one of my favorite fanfic writers. I love What's Lost Is Found, but I just thought I might suggest adding some sort of warning for depressive thoughts or something. I really love how your writings are realistic and that I can relate to them, but it was so similar to the depression I had a couple years ago, I felt myself become a little depressed for a couple days afterward. Either way, it's still amazing and I can't wait for the next part! ❤❤❤

Author’s Note - I am truly sorry for any harm that this story might have caused due to the lack of a warning of depressive thoughts. I will try to include these warnings on the other parts as well and I’m sorry they weren’t there in the first place.

Part One  Part Two  Part Three Part Four  Part Five  Part Six  Part Six.Five  Part Eight  Part Nine  Part Ten  Part Eleven

Requested by Anon -  I love your work! Can the next part of What’s lost is found be her first encounter with Jason tim and Damien! Love the series

Requested by multifandoms916 -  Can you write a part 7 for what’s lost is found where the reader gets closure from Bruce’s death All so where the adults and Lian actually apologizes like genuine

Requested by Anon -  part seven of what’s lost is found? where the reader and damian finally meet again? and the reader gets like injured and he freaks? i love ur stories!

Requested by many other Anons as well.

***

You flipped over the last mugger and wrapped your legs around his neck. He choked. You chuckled, using the momentum to flip him onto the ground. 

“I wish I could do that,” Jon laughed, flying over to scoop you up into his arms. He soared into the sky as the cops arrived on the scene. 

“You could if you worked on your flexibility.” Your arms wrapped around his neck as you kissed his cheek. His cologne tickled your nose. 

“Will you help me with that?” Jon smirked.

You nuzzled his cheek. “Maybe.” Your phone beeped from your pocket. Jon landed on the roof of a office building and set you down. Only then, did you take your phone out of your pocket. One phone dropped forty feet was enough. “Crap, I’m supposed to be home in ten minutes. Dick texted me a warning.” 

“Well, we will have to fly fast then.” Jon took off his coat. “It’s only like fifty miles.” He wrapped the coat around you. You smiled, putting your arms through once your phone was safely back in your pocket. 

“Remember we went to see the new Disney movie,” you warned as Jon scooped you up again. You snuggled into his chest, loving how warm he was.

“Yep, and it was okay. We went to pizza afterwards.” Jon floated off the roof and high into the sky. “At least that’s not a lie.” 

You snorted, but stayed quiet. Jon picked up speed, flying faster than what was comfortable for you. You hid your face into his shoulder so the wind wouldn’t bite your face.

A few months had passed since Christmas break. You went back to school, and the normal humdrum of life. However, this time you had a spark of excitement. A spark named Jon.

Jon and you had dates every weekend. They started out slow as Dick had a crisis with the idea of you dating. Those first few dates were at the house under Dick’s watchful and annoying eye. Eventually, with Kori’s support, the dates were allowed to be out of the house and without supervision. 

Thus, without supervision, the dates took a different turn. Jon and you would often go on patrol in different cities, stopping for dinner at some point during the night. You never went far from home, but far enough that your activities wouldn’t appear in local papers for Dick or Kori to see. 

You dared to say that these patrol nights with Jon were the first times you felt like yourself since your dad died. 

Jon slowed down. You looked out to see the big top of Dick’s circus in the distance. “Are you cold?” Jon whispered as he floated down to land in the woods a few blocks down from your house.

“Nah.” You kissed his lips before he set you down. Your lips tingled at the pressure. Jon pulled the mask off your eyes. “You’re keeping me warm.” 

He smirked, leaning down to kiss you again, but you took the opportunity to rip off his mask. The two of you had a debate about what to patrol in. Jon wanted to be Superboy and you Robin, but when you informed him about the price on Robin’s head, he changed his mind. Therefore, you settled with plain civvies and simple face masks.

“No fair.” Jon pouted. You kissed him on the lips to wipe the pout off his face. “That’s better.” He panted slightly. 

You took off Jon’s jacket and handed it back to him. “Come on, we don’t want to be late.” The mask went into the secret pocket you had sewn into your jeans. Luckily, you did your own laundry, so you didn’t have to worry about Dick or Kori finding out. 

“You’re so paranoid.” Jon put on his jacket before taking your hand to lead you out of the woods. 

“Better paranoid than dead,” you said automatically. Jon flinched, looking at you in surprise. You realized what you said, swallowing hard. “Sorry, it’s something Dad always said.”

Jon smiled at you sadly. He kissed your temple. “That’s okay.” He squeezed your hand. How could he be so warm all the time? You wondered if it was a Jon thing or a Kryptonian thing. “So are you worried what people will think if they catch us leaving the woods all the time?” 

“Yes, but I’d rather have people thinking we’re messing around in the woods than...doing what we’re doing.” The two of you walked down the street. You could see the front light was on at your house. Dick would be watching. “Have you asked your parents about spring break?” 

“I’ve mentioned it. Apparently, they’re talking it over with Dick and Kori.” Jon swung your arm playfully. “I let them know how much I would like to go, even if it’s mostly to see you.” 

You snorted. “I know you want to go to Disney World too. You’ve been talking about the new Star Wars ride all the time.” Jon kissed your cheek.

“True, but I think it’s funny you want me to go so bad.” Jon winked at you. The blood burned to your face.

“Well, I don’t want to get trapped there with just Dick and Kori.” You shivered. “Kori is planning everything, because she’s determined to get the most of her first time at ‘the Disney World’.” Jon chuckled. “She wants me to wear ears, Jon. Like mouse ears.” Horror chilled your heart. What would your dad think of such a thing? “Even Dick didn’t try to put those on me last time we went.” 

“I don’t know.” Jon shrugged, smiling at you teasingly. “I think you’d look cute.” 

You smacked his arm. He laughed. Your hand stung as the hit hurt you more than him. “Watch it, Superboy or no more kisses.” You narrowed your eyes into a batglare. 

Jon bit his lip, trying to stop laughing. The two of you finally reached the front steps of your house. You could see the shadow of Dick watching from the window. “I’ll text you when I get home,” Jon whispered, tensing as he sensed Dick’s eyes on him. 

“You better.” You pressed a quick kiss to his lips before going into the house. Once at the door, you blew him one last kiss. Jon caught it with his hand and pressed it to his heart. Then he jogged away until he was in a safe place to fly home.

Three, two, one. “How was the movie?” Dick asked, hovering behind you. You sighed.

“It was okay.” You took off your coat and shoes. “How was your date night?” 

“Good. Got home before you.” Dick crossed his arms. You could feel him studying you. 

“Wouldn’t be you if you didn’t,” you muttered, getting some water from the fridge. 

Dick frowned. “What was that?” He closed the front door and locked it securely. 

“Nothing.” You headed out of the kitchen and up the stairs. 

“Remember we have that meeting with the guidance counselor tomorrow,” Dick said, following you up. You hummed. When you were almost to your room, Dick caught your arm. He kissed your forehead. “Good night, honey.” 

“Good night.” You pulled away. “Good night, Kori,” you said, raising your voice to be heard through the bathroom door. 

“Sleep well, baby,” Kori shouted back. You went into your room. The click of the door was soothing. You leaned against the door and sank to the floor. Your phone beeped. 

“I’m home,” Jon texted. You smiled.

“Good. I was getting worried.” You slowly got to your feet and dressed in your pajamas. Once you were settled into bed, you went back to your phone.

A smile pulled at your lips. “Dad says it’s a go.”

“Awesome. I won’t have to suffer alone.” You added a relieved emoji. “Good night, Jon.” 

Jon sent a picture of the night sky. You smiled when you could recognize the stars due to the star chart Jon had given you for Christmas.  “Good night, (Y/N). Pretty, beautiful you.”

You blushed. “Damn you,” you whispered. He could make you blush even though text. You heard Kori leave the bathroom and got up to brush your teeth.

***

“I don’t like this,” Dick said as he moped to the car. “(Y/N) should stay in high school at least another year.” 

“Dick, you remember what the guidance counselor said. The school can’t offer the academic challenge (Y/N) needs, besides, (Y/N) wants this.” Kori soothed, taking his hand. 

Meanwhile, you trailed behind them. You wanted to cheer, jump around, maybe do a backflip. It was the first time in a long time you felt so happy. You were going to graduate this spring, and then you could do whatever you wanted. Dick looked back at you and you did your best not to appear like you had won the lottery. 

“This doesn’t mean you’re an adult.” Dick narrowed his eyes, hurt. “And you’re still going to school nearby.”

“Aww, no Yale?” you teased, taking out your phone to text Jon the news. 

Dick opened his mouth, but Kori cut him off. “Not yet. Maybe after a year or two?” Kori rubbed Dick’s back. She gave you a look to tell you to take it easy. You pouted slightly. Why couldn’t you be happy about getting what you want?

You all got into the car. Dick shook his head as he drove out of the parking lot. He came to his own conclusion. “No, (Y/N) is not going to college. They’re too young.” 

“I’m not too young.” You scowled at him when he glanced at you through the rearview mirror. “I want to go, Dick. Why do you have to hold me back all the time?” 

“I do not hold you back.” Dick turned into the driveway quickly. “You don’t know what’s best for you.” 

Rage filled you. “I know what’s best for me.” Your voice took a dangerous tone. Kori peered back at you worriedly. Dick spun to face you. 

“No, you don’t. Damn it. You aren’t ready.” Dick’s mouth twitched, temper flaring. What right did he have to get mad over this? You were finally getting what you wanted. More freedom. 

“Shut up!” You exploded, barely stopping yourself from punching Dick in the nose. Dick’s eyes widened in slight surprise when you jumped out of the car. You needed to get away from him. 

“(Y/N).” Kori got out of the car and put a twenty in your hand. “Go get some ice cream and come back later. We’ll all talk once we have cooler heads.” She gave Dick a pointed look. Dick had gotten out of the car, ready for a battle of wills. His shoulders sank at her look. 

“Fine.” You spun on your heel and walked down the street, not actually going toward the ice cream place. Dick started to follow you, but Kori stopped him. You broke out into a run as your heart boiled with frustration. You had never wanted to go to school, and the only reason you didn’t throw more of a fuss is because you knew you could graduate this year. Now that it was decided for sure, Dick  threatened to take it away.

Tears stun your eyes as you ran faster. A car honked at you when you ran out into the middle of the street. However, you kept running until you reached the woods where Jon always took off from. Once inside, you took out your phone and dialed Jon’s number.

“Hello, beautiful.” Jon laughed. Your lips pulled into a smile at the sound of his voice. You sank down to sit against a tree. 

“Hi.” You sniffled, brushing away tears with your hands.

“Woah, hey. What’s wrong?” Jon’s voice instantly turned into that soothing soft tone he always took when you cried. Embarrassingly, Jon saw you cry a lot. 

You swallowed hard. “You got my text about how I’m graduating, right?” 

Jon chuckled. “Yeah, congratulations. I know you wanted to.” He paused. “Don’t tell me you’re going to miss high school?” 

“No.” You laughed a little. “Dick didn’t like that I’m graduating. He said I’m too young and that I don’t know what’s best for me.” You picked at a piece of grass. “I almost punch him, but I walked away before I did. Kori told me to go get ice cream.” 

“Ooo, what flavor did you get?” Jon asked, excited like a little puppy. “I’m trapped at school for another hour.” 

“Why?” You giggled. Your stomach buzzed happily.

“I got detention for skipping class.” Jon snorted. “It’s not my fault. There was a car who’s brakes gave out and was about to crash into a crowd of people.” He sighed like he was dying. “Life is so unfair. Mom already sent me a “we’re going to talk when you get home” text.” 

You relaxed. The anger slipped away. “As long as you can still come for spring break, you’ll survive.” 

Jon laughed. “Yeah, and we can ride the new Star Wars ride every day.” 

“Well, there’s is a catch with the new Star Wars ride, but we’ll try to ride it when we can.” You remembered Kori explaining how it worked. It seemed like a lot of work, but for Jon, it was worth it. 

“As long as I get to ride it once, I’ll be happy.” Someone snapped at him in the background. “Oops, got to go. It’s time for me to sit and think about what I did.” 

“You bad boy.” You blushed as you said it.

Jon choked slightly. “Yeah, says the naughty little bat.” He chuckled. “I lo...” You froze, eyes wide in surprise. Jon stopped, clearing his throat. “I look forward to see you later.” 

You sighed in somewhat relief. “Bye Jon.” Was he about to say he loved you? It kinda sounded like it. You shivered, putting your phone back in your pocket. Were you ready for him to say that? Would you be able to say it back to him?

Your mind went around and around for a while until you forced yourself up to go home. When you reached the front steps of your house, you realized that you could indeed say it back to him. However, you were too scared to be the one to say it first. You would wait for Jon to say it.

Kori was in the kitchen, frowning at the pot on the stove. “Oh good you’re home.” She took the pot off the heat. “I think I messed up.” You frowned, taking off your coat and shoes before going over. There was noodles in the pot that were black, burnt to a crisp. 

“Oh.” You pursed your lips. “Yeah, that’s not good.” Kori sighed, her eyes filled with tears. “How about you clean that out and I’ll make dinner?” 

“Thank you, baby.” Kori kissed your cheek happily. “Dick went in to work, but he’ll be back for dinner. We’ll talk during dinner about everything.” She went to try to scrape out the burnt noodles. 

You watched her, confused. Why would Kori cry over burnt noodles? A twang of guilt hit your heart. You must have stressed her out too much. “Are you okay?” you asked quietly, moving to check the fridge to see if you could throw something together. 

“What?” Kori looked back at you with a tear running down her cheek. “Oh, it’s nothing, baby. Don’t worry about me.” She came over to kiss your cheek again. “I’m going to lay down for a while.” You watched as she went to lay down on the couch with her hand over her eyes. 

She was emotional and tired. You eyed the pot with burnt noodles. She was also forgetful as she must have left the pot on the stove for quite some time for it to burn like that. If you didn’t know any better, you would say she was pregnant. Your eyes widened. Oh god, she was pregnant. You shook your head. No wonder Dick was stressed. You started to pull out ingredients to make stir fry. Dick should be happy you were graduating. You could move out then. They would need your room for the baby.

Your eyes burned with tears at the thought of leaving, but then you thought about how you could go to school near Jon. A smile pulled at your lips. Maybe the talk over dinner wouldn’t so bad. 

***

“I’m sorry,” Dick said softly. He wrapped his arms around you, pushing your face into his chest. “I just can’t stand seeing you grow up so fast.” 

You grunted. “Fine.” Dick let you go, studying you.

“What’s wrong?” He ran his hand through your hair. Kori smiled at the two of you as she took another serving of stir fry. That was her third plate. 

“I was thinking I should try to apply to Gotham U or Metropolis U. They are still accepting applications.” Gotham would be a long shot as you were sure Tim or Damian would do everything in their power to block your application. You eyed Kori. Kori noticed your look, swallowing wrong. She coughed hard. 

“Woah, Kori. Slow down.” Dick rubbed her back. Once she recovered, Dick moved his attention back to you. “Honey, we want you to stay here.” 

You frowned. It didn’t make sense. He should want you to leave with a baby on the way. You met Kori’s eye, and the realization chilled you like a bucket of cold water. Dick didn’t know yet. “Why don’t you think about it?” You said, looking Dick in the eye. “I’ll apply and then we’ll decide.” 

Dick raised an eyebrow, sitting down at his seat to finish eating. “As long as you apply to some schools nearby.” You stayed standing. “Sit down. You aren’t done already, are you?” Dick nodded to your chair. You looked at Kori for a long moment. She wouldn’t meet your eye. 

“I’m done.” You took your dish to the sink. “I want to start on applications.” 

“Okay, but like I said, apply to places close by too,” Dick reminded, making the ‘you’re so difficult when I’m being nice’ face. You admitted you would be happy to get away from his guilt-causing face. 

“Sure.” You quickly left the room and went upstairs. Dick talked to Kori, expressing his concerns about you. It only confirmed that Dick didn’t know. He would be more focused on the future if he knew he was about to have a baby. You fought the urge to text Jon about it, but you stopped yourself. It was possible you were mistaken.

***

Your applications were in by the end of the week. As you said, you did apply to Gotham and Metropolis as well as two local colleges only twenty to thirty miles away. Dick seemed satisfied. Kori kept her secret, but the signs were becoming more clear as the days went on. You couldn’t believe Dick didn’t notice yet, but then again, Dick was always blind to the obvious.

Meanwhile, you started to have nightmares again. One night, you woke from a nasty one involving your father and Bane. So deeply disturbed and needing to escape, you started packing up your room. You reasoned to yourself that you were going to be leaving soon, so you might as well be packed. 

“Honey, what are you doing up?” Dick asked, knocking on your door. You froze, just about to place a shirt into a box. The light was off, and you were moving as quietly as possible. How did he know?

You wiped the sweat from your brow with a shaky hand. The nightmare was only a few thoughts away. Your eyes widened when you realized you didn’t answer soon enough and Dick opened the door. He turned on the light, blinding you momentary. The tense silence that followed make your hands shake harder. Your carefully folded shirt fell to the floor in a heap. You couldn’t look at him.

Dick took several deep breaths before coming over to you. “What’s all this about?” he soothed, picking up your shirt from the floor. You eyed him, flinching when you saw how calm he was. 

You opened your mouth to speak, but only a whimper came out. A tear ran down your cheek. Your eyes stayed on the floor.

“You’re okay.” Suddenly, Dick’s warm arms wrapped around you. He rocked you back and forth. Sobs ripped out of you. The nightmare took over your thoughts again. “Hush, I’m here. You’re okay.” 

“No, I have to go.” Your voice broke. “I need to leave.” 

“Honey, you don’t have to go. We want you here.” Dick rested his cheek on your head. His arms tightened around you. “You said you’d stay, so you’re going to stay, okay?” 

Everything was so confusing. Why were you crying? The nightmare flashed in front of your eyes. You screamed, flinching at the sight of the light leaving Bane’s eyes. 

Dick jumped at the scream. His arms pulled you even closer to him. “No, it’s not here. Whatever you’re seeing isn’t here. You’re okay. I’m here. Nothing is going to get you.” 

Your body trembled. You closed your eyes, turning to hide your face into Dick’s shoulder. Dick kept soothing you. His hand ran through your hair in a gentle rhythm. Time passed before you finally stopped shaking. Dick’s shirt had a giant wet spot from your tears, but he didn’t care. You wondered how many of his shirts you had done that to. 

“Here you go, love.” Kori came into the room with a cup of tea. Dick took it and held it to your lips. You drank it. The smell of it warned you it was Alfred’s special tea. The one that could knock your father out for hours. 

The drowsiness hit you almost immediately. “I’m sorry,” you mumbled, slumping against Dick. Dick scooped you up and tucked you back into bed.

“No need to be sorry, sweetheart.” He kissed your forehead before the tea dragged you into a dreamless slumber. 

***

You woke to find your room back to it’s pre-packed state. The sun streamed through the window, meaning you must have missed school for the day. You sighed, rubbing your eyes that were slightly swollen. It was the last day before spring break anyway.

Slowly, you got yourself ready for the day and stumbled down the stairs. People were talking in the kitchen. You went in, rubbing your eyes again. 

“Well, look who’s awake?” Jon teased, getting up from the table. You froze, eyes wide.

“Jon?” You ran to him and jumped into his arms. He laughed, spinning you around. “What are you doing here?” 

“We’re here for spring break.” Jon kissed your cheek after he set you down. Your eyes widened at the “we”. 

You spun to see Lois and Clark sitting at the table with little smug smiles on their faces. “Hi.” Your cheeks burned in embarrassment. “Where are Dick and Kori?” 

“Dick had to go to work, and I believe Kori is running errands.” Lois got to her feet to get more coffee for herself. You wondered if Kori was at a doctor appointment. “Do you want something to eat? We have leftover pizza from lunch.”

You smiled, going to get a plate. “Wait, so you’re letting (Y/N) eat pizza for breakfast? Why is it when I want to eat pizza for breakfast, I get shamed and told to go eat oatmeal or something?” Jon whined. 

Clark sent him a warning look. “Because (Y/N) was raised by Alfred. We already know they know that pizza for breakfast everyday isn’t a good thing.” 

You took a slice from the box on the table and heated it up in the microwave. “So why are you all here so early? I thought you were supposed to meet us at Disney World?” 

The Kents all shared looks with each other. You shifted, suddenly uncomfortable. “We figured we’d come early before Clark had to stop a forest fire or something,” Lois teased, trying to lighten the mood. 

The microwave beeped. You took out your slice of pizza, no longer hungry. “Well, I still need to pack.” You headed upstairs with your pizza in hand. 

“I’ll help.” Jon followed like an excited puppy. 

“Remember I have super-hearing,” Clark called after Jon. 

“I swear they have dirtier minds than we do,” you mumbled, smiling to cheer Jon up. 

Jon chuckled. “They do.” You reached your room and set the pizza on your desk. Jon looked around your room with interest. “Is this new?” He pointed to a picture of the Gotham Skyline. 

“Yeah, I found it when I went shopping with Kori.” You pulled the suitcase from under your bed and started to pack. Memories of last night triggered a tiny headache in your temple. 

Jon wandered around your room, looking at things as you packed. You noticed things were in the wrong places, meaning Dick and Kori must have put all your things back after you packed them last night. Jon remarked on a book on your bed stand.

“Jon, you’ve seen everything in here. Stop acting like you haven’t been here before,” you said. Irritation sparked. Your headache throbbed. You hoped you weren’t getting sick again. Biting your lip, you were determined to not get sick again. 

“Sorry.” Jon sat on your bed next to your suitcase. “I’m nervous, I guess.” He studied you. You sighed, knowing what was coming. “Dick told us about last night.” 

“I don’t know why he thought it was okay to tell you my business,” You snapped harshly. Jon flinched. A wave of guilt crashed into you. “Sorry.” You looked back down at your suitcase. 

“It’s okay.” Jon pursed his lips. “I’m here if you want to talk about it though.” 

“Why does everyone always want to talk?” You ran a hand through your hair. “My dad never wanted to talk, and it was great. We would deal with things on our own.” 

Jon’s eyes followed you as you went to grab a sweatshirt out of your closet. “Yeah, but you don’t have to do that anymore.” The glare you sent him made him choke. “Sorry...I just want you to know I’m here for you.” 

You felt like you had been punched hard in the stomach. “No, I’m sorry.” Hugging the sweatshirt, you finally faced him. He gave you sad little puppy dog eyes. It was worse than Dick’s ‘you’re being so mean when I’m trying to be nice’ face. You swallowed hard. A traitorous tear slipped down your cheek. “I don’t want to put that burden on you. I’m a mess, Jon.” 

“(Y/N), beautiful. I already took that burden when I kissed you for the first time.” Jon came over to kiss you gently on the lips. Your entire body tingled like an electrical current zapped through you. His arms slipped around you, pulling you into his warm body. Warm as if you curled up in a patch of sunshine. 

“I love how warm you are.” You nuzzled into his chest. Contentment filled you, safe and secure in his arms.

***

“That was amazing,” Jon gasped, shaking his head in amazement. “My mind is blown.” 

“Of course it is.” You laughed, taking his hand as you both exited the new Star Wars ride Jon had been talking about. 

“Now he can stop talking about it,” Clark said from behind you. 

Lois laughed, leaning into Clark. “No, now he’ll talk about it nonstop.” 

“But it was so cool.” Jon turned back to face his parents.

“I do admit it was cool,” Lois said, kissing Jon’s cheek as they past. “We’re going to find Dick and Kori. Remember we’re meeting for lunch in about an hour.”

“Don’t eat everything,” Clark said with a wink. They disappeared in the crowd. Dick and Kori slept late. You happened to know that Kori was sick this morning from the vomiting sounds you heard coming from the bathroom. Part of you wondered if Dick knew yet or did he think she had the flu?

Jon looked around the Star Wars area eagerly. “So what now?” He squeezed your hand. 

You shrugged. “This is your thing. You go and I’ll follow.”

“I knew I loved you for some reason,” he said naturally. Your heart skipped a beat. Jon’s eyes widened a millisecond later. He looked at you. “You...I mean I like...I can’t fix that, can I?” 

“I love you too.” You laughed when Jon’s jaw dropped open. “I just didn’t expect you to say it now.” You kissed his cheek. “Come on, we only have an hour before we have to meet the adults.” 

Jon blushed before a big dopey smile grew upon his lips. “Yeah, only an hour.” He laughed and pulled you off into the direction of the other Star Wars ride. You squeezed his hand, floating on air.

***

“I want you back by midnight,” Dick insisted as he buttoned up his shirt in the hotel room mirror.

“We’ll leave when the park closes, but I can’t promise we’ll be on time. The buses are slow,” you said. You were sitting on the foldout couch that was your bed, putting on your shoes. 

Dick frowned. “(Y/N), midnight.” 

“Dick, I’ll try.” You narrowed your eyes at him. He glared back at you. Just when he was about to scold you, Kori came out of the bathroom. She was beautiful, wearing the fancy dress she had bought the day before. Dick lost his breath. You smiled, glad for the Kori distraction again.

They were going out to a special dinner alone. You suspected Kori was going to drop the baby bomb, and you didn’t want to be around for the aftermath. “Let (Y/N) stay out. They’ll be with the Kents,” Kori soothed, adjusting Dick’s collar. 

And Dick instantly changed his tone. “Okay. Just make sure you stay with the Kents.” He kept looking at Kori with compete adoration. You hoped you never looked at Jon like that. It was embarrassing enough seeing Dick do it. 

“Fine by me. Have fun you two.” You waved and rushed out of the room. A funny feeling settled in your stomach. Would that be the last time you would feel like a family with Dick and Kori? You quickly forced those thoughts away as you hurried to meet Jon by the bus station.

***

Jon and you headed out of the park toward the buses alone. Clark and Lois left earlier, trusting the two of you. You wondered if they informed Dick that they would be doing so. 

“Oh no,” Jon whispered, tilting his head like a dog trying to listen for something. 

You blinked. “What?” You pulled Jon out of the crowd that was heading to the buses. 

“I think my dad just flew off somewhere.” Jon smirked. 

“So?” You raised an eyebrow.

“Well, we can go patrol a little bit. I mean you have your mask.” His eyes went to your jeans. You smacked his arm. Your hand throbbed at the impact. “Come on. We’re at Disney World.” 

You snorted, looking around. The crowd was dying out. “Okay, fine.” Jon pulled you off to a private place and scooped you into his arms. “But only for a half an hour and if you hear your dad, you have to zoom us back here. We can’t get caught.” You stole a quick kiss. Jon chuckled into the kiss and flew up into the air. 

***

After three muggings and one car chase, you were two hours overdue. Jon kept convincing you to stay out longer. You knew you were risking it, but then you thought about how Dick and Kori were probably celebrating. The urge to go back disappeared. Eventually though, Jon and you landed in the woods a little ways from the hotel.

“That was fun,” Jon whispered, kissing you sweetly. “Love you.” 

“Love you too.” You ran your fingers through his soft hair. It took so much willpower to pull away from him. You took off the mask and hid it back in the secret pocket of your jeans. Jon did the same with his. 

“It’s so dark.” You stumbled over a stick. Jon caught your elbow. 

“Let me float us out of here.” Jon put his hand around your waist and floated you safely out of the woods. The hotel shined in the distance. He set you on the ground, but kept his arm around your waist. 

“Did your dad come back yet?” You leaned into him, his warmth seeping into you. 

Jon shook his head. “No. Mom’s asleep.” He closed his eyes. “Dick and Kori are asleep too, I think.” 

“I hope so. He’s going to kill me,” you muttered, shaking slightly. “Kori was going to tell him she’s pregnant tonight.” 

“What?!” Jon jumped away from you. 

You rolled your eyes. “Come on, Jon. You’re telling me you haven’t notice how Kori is sick every morning. She cried yesterday, because her ice cream started to melt.” 

The blush on Jon’s cheeks showed you he didn’t. “Well, no. I thought maybe it was that time of the month.” 

“Are you kidding me?!” You narrowed your eyes into your best impression of your father’s batglare. Jon paled. “I’m telling your mother you said that.” He stopped in his tracks. You kept walking, shaking your head in disgust.

“Wait, I’m sorry. Don’t tell my mom.” Jon ran to catch up to you as you reached the lobby. The desk attendant frowned at the two of you. You sensed they were judging you for coming in so late. “I’m not the detective you are.” 

You snorted. “I’m not really a detective. Dad and Tim are better at it.” You stopped at the elevator. The Kents’ room was on the second floor while yours was on the first. “Good night, Jon, and never assume that again.” 

“Yes, boss.” He saluted you, laughing in relief. You kissed the corner of his mouth before slipping away. “Good night, beautiful.” 

Your heart glowed, heading down the hall to your room. Slowly to a tiptoe, you unlocked the door and slipped inside. The room was dark, but enough light came through the window to reveal where you were going. 

You got undressed quickly and slipped on your pajamas. Just when you were about to crawl into your bed, Dick sat up and clicked on the light. 

“Where the hell have you been?” Dick hissed. He got to his feet and came over to you. You sighed, cursing how he was a light sleeper. At least Kori was still fast asleep. 

“Dick, come back to bed,” Kori moaned. You looked over to her only to see her naked breast. Your face burned, quickly looking away. 

“It’s three in the morning. I told you to be home by midnight.” Dick grabbed your shoulders, shaking you. “Lois told me they left you and Jon alone. What did you do?” 

You groaned. “No, no, no. We didn’t do anything. We were hungry, so we went to Denny’s.” Luckily, you and Jon settled on a story. “I would have called you, but I didn’t want to wake you up.” You pulled away from Dick. “I know tonight was a big deal for you and Kori, so I didn’t want to interfere.” 

Dick blinked, glancing at Kori. He blushed when he saw her bare breast. “So you knew this whole time?” His eyes shot back to you. 

“It was kinda obvious.” You climbed into bed, dismissing him. “Good night, Dick.” 

“This isn’t over,” Dick whispered with a sigh. He sat down on the edge of your bed. “You know that Kori being pregnant doesn’t mean you have to leave, right?” 

You hummed, keeping your back to him. Dick’s hand rubbed your side. 

“I love you. Nothing will ever change that.” Dick’s other hand ran through your hair. You closed your eyes, having a flash of your father doing the same thing. A hole pierced through your heart. “You’re still my kid, even if another kiddo is on the way.” 

“I know.” You suddenly felt better, even though your heart ached. 

“Good.” He kissed your temple. “But I still want you to call me if you’re going to be late like that.” 

“Okay.” You felt yourself drift off. Dick got to his feet and soon the light clicked off. Keeping the memory of Jon’s I love you in your head, you fell into a blissful sleep.

***

If you learned one lesson the next morning, it’s that you should have never listened to Jon. 

Dick, Kori, you, and the Kents were sitting down to breakfast in a restaurant somewhere in Disney World. Jon sat next to you, giving you looks that you could only describe as stressed. 

“You know what’s funny,” Lois began, a dangerous glint came to her eye. “I heard on the news this morning that two superheros stopped a car chase last night.” Your stomach dropped to your feet. That’s what Jon was trying to warn you about.

Dick and Kori shared a look. “That wasn’t you, was it?” Dick whispered rather loudly to Clark.

Clark cleared his throat. “No.” He eyed you carefully. “Do you know something about that, (Y/N)?” All the adults turned to look at you. You took a deep breath, playing it cool. Although, Jon was quickly losing his cool in the corner of your eye.

“No, we didn’t see anything when we went to Denny’s.” You took a sip of water. Dick’s face went blank, his month twitched in anger. Kori was close to tears, having to dry her eyes with a napkin. Oh dear. 

“Oh look at this.” Lois took out her phone. “I happen to have the clip the news showed.” She stuck it in your face. You could see a person with a body shape similar to Jon’s jumping in front of the car. Another figure quadruple somersaulted over the other and crashed through the windshield to kick out the driver. Damn, Dick would recognize that move. Anyone who knows anything would recognize that move. How could you be so dumb?

“It was me.” Jon had his honest face on. You kinda wanted to kill him. ��I convinced (Y/N) to come out with me.” However, judging by the look Dick gave him, Dick might beat you to it. Jon pressed a hand to his chest. “Blame me, not them. (Y/N) was safe the whole time.” 

You rolled your eyes. “Jon, shut up.” 

Jon looked at you. The hurt little puppy dog look. “How about we talk about this after breakfast?” Clark suggested, ever the peacemaker. The waiter came over to take orders. You only ordered toast, your appetite gone. Jon tried to take your hand, but you pulled away from him. The only thing you felt was exhaustion.  

***

“What were you thinking?!” Dick screamed at you once you all got back to the hotel room. He shook your shoulders violently. “You have a price on your head! Someone is going to recognize that move and know you’re in the area!”  He stopped only because his phone rang. “It’s Tim. He’s probably already seen the footage.” Dick went out into the hallway to talk to him. 

You sat on your bed, staring blankly ahead. Jon was next to you, pale. He took your hand. Clark and Lois were talking among themselves while Kori sobbed away.

“So much for spring break fun, huh?” Jon teased halfheartedly. You didn’t react. Your body felt lifeless.

“Jon, we are disappointed in you,” Clark said. They came over to stand over Jon with frowns. “We told you that (Y/N) couldn’t be involved in hero life anymore. It could endanger their life.” 

“Who’s gonna notice that, Dad?” Jon squeezed your hand hard. “I mean a lot of people can flip like that.” 

You found yourself shaking your head. “No.” They looked to you. “That was a quadruple somersault. Only a few people in the world can do it. Dick can, so can I.”  You wish you could be proud like you were when you first mastered the quadruple somersault. No other Robin had besides Dick. Unfortunately, it felt like you weren’t allowed to be proud of anything. “Tim noticed. That’s why he’s calling Dick.” 

Lois laid a hand on your knee. You looked at her, surprised by the sympathy in her eyes. “I know it’s hard. You were trained to help the world in a way that most people don’t and now you aren’t allowed to do that anymore.” She paused, cut off by Kori’s sob. You saw Kori make a run to the bathroom which was followed by gagging sounds. Lois winced. “I know it hurts, but you need to know that everyone here wants to keep you safe, (Y/N). This isn’t punishment.” 

“Everyone says that, but it is punishment.” You looked back at her emotionless. The worried looks from Jon and Clark pounded into you, but you ignored them. Damian’s words fell out of your mouth. “I broke Father’s one rule. The one he held throughout his life and to make it worse, he died the night I broke that rule. I murdered Bane, and by default, what my father stood for.” 

Silence filled the room. You looked away from Lois to see Dick standing in the doorway. His jaw dropped open. “Did Damian tell you that?” he whispered. The blood drained from his face. All the anger from before was gone.

You blinked, dumbfounded by his reaction. Of course, you knew Dick didn’t agree with the others, but he knew what they thought. Why was he so shocked? “What do you think?” you said. A familiar headache blossomed in your temple. You were getting sick again, and you weren’t sure you could push it away this time.

The smell of smoke and rotting fish consumed your nose. Your hands shook. “No, no you don’t. Don’t go there.” Suddenly, Dick’s hands cupped your face, looking you in the eye. “Honey, stay with us. I know it seems bad right now, but it’s not your fault. Remember what your father’s letter said, it’s not your fault.” The sickening crack echoed in your ears along with a scream that sounded like your own. “(Y/N). Don’t make me do this.” 

Slap

Your cheek stun. The smell and the sound disappeared in an instant. “Ouch.” You touched your cheek, knowing there was an imprint of Dick’s hand.

Dick sighed in relief. “Did you just hit them?” Jon pushed Dick away from you, hovering protectively in front of you. Dick fell onto the other bed. “How dare you?!”

“Jon,” Clark warned, stepping in front of Dick. “Calm down.” 

“You don’t hit them. Everyone hurts them, but not anymore. I won’t let it.” Jon reached back to take your hand. You held his, trembling. 

Kori came back into the room. She saw the situation and you knew what was coming. Letting go of Jon’s hand, you grabbed Lois and pulled her and yourself over the bed. You both crashed onto the floor on the other side just to hear a star bolt hit Jon in the chest. 

“Thank you,” Lois said, getting to her feet. She put two fingers in her mouth and whistled. Everyone froze. “Calm down. Let’s focus on the main issue here.” She helped you up. Jon was rubbing his chest. The star bolt left a smoky hole in his shirt. Clark and Kori were standing off again. Dick sat with his face in his hands.

“Right.” Dick pushed himself to his feet, looking older than his years. “The issue is that (Y/N) exposed themselves to assassins that will come for the price on Robin’s head.” He took out his phone. “Luckily, the footage is from Jacksonville, so they won’t be looking for Robin here or at home.” 

“That’s a relief,” Kori said, breaking her stand off with Superman to come over to you. She hugged you tightly. “You scared me, baby.” You melted into her arms.

“However, you went against our rules, broke our trust,” Lois added, judging Jon seriously. Jon grimaced. 

Clark relaxed and went over to check Jon’s chest. “What were you thinking, Dick? We’ll follow your lead on this.”

Dick exhaled slowly. He regarded you with exhausted eyes. “No more unsupervised dates.” Jon started to protest, but a look from Clark shut him up. “No more leaving the house without someone with you. You go to school and you come home. That’s it. Nothing else.”

He stopped, waiting for you to speak. “Fine.” Your cheek throbbed from the slap. Jon’s eyes met yours, still hopeful. Somehow, that look made you love him even more.

***

A month later on a Saturday, Jon’s head was in your lap as you both lounged on the couch. Kori was banging things around in the kitchen, attempting to deep clean the fridge.

“I still can’t believe how many movies you haven’t seen.” Jon wrinkled his nose when you tapped it.

“Well, I didn’t have time to watch movies until now.” You glanced back at the TV and started to search through Netflix again. “What do you want to watch?” 

“Indiana Jones.” Jon smirked at you. You tapped his nose again. “I can’t believe I made you go see the stunt show before seeing any of the movies.” 

You rolled your eyes. “It’s fine. I don’t remember that much anyway.” Your relationship with Jon suffered for the first week, but soon you were back to the way you were before. Jon sat up to kiss your lips. You sighed, enjoying how soft his lips were on yours. 

The doorbell rang. “(Y/N), can you get that? I can’t get up,” Kori called. Both you and Jon sighed at the same time. He moved so you could stand up. 

“I got it.” You shuffled to the door and checked the new peephole Dick installed. The sight of a worn, brown leather jacket made your heart skip a beat. You opened the door to see Jason Todd on your doorstep with a duffel over his shoulder. 

“Hey, (Y/N). Long time no see.” 

***

Part Eight will be coming soon!

[dangermousie]

So, I am reading more MTL of Mistakenly Saving the Villain (if you use deepl it actually makes a really good MTL for this one, better than Paranoid Emperor and way better than Qiang Jin Jiu) and:

1. SQS is beginning to figure out that Yue Wuhuan’s legendary bad luck seems hella deliberate on the heavens’ part. It didn’t really click for him when YWH mentioned back way when that he had many opportunities to discover the slave trader’s true intent but always somehow missed it as if fate was directing him. And SQS did wonder why heaven was giving YWH a lightning tribulation way beyond his level during foundation building as if it was trying to kill him but then he took the hit on himself and ten year coma so it makes sense he didn’t think about it when he woke up. But then the Phoenix kite YWH goes to fly for him gets its string severed and the Phoenix (and Phoenix imagery and terms keep being used for YWH) comes crashing down because an ant chewed through the string at precisely the wrong place and SQS starts going “what are the odds of that?! The hell?!” And in the latest chapter, when YWH tells him how he got the blood vine and says his luck seems to have changed for the better, SQS is thinking “really?” Use your genius brain, SQS since nobody else can - yes, YWH is arguably even more brilliant but he’s too damaged and too enmeshed to figure it out.

Side note: I am hella spoiled for what is actually going on and the concept of a whole world created and precisely tailored to torture you is horrifying. Though, if you think, isn’t any different at first than the seeming original set up - if you, like seemingly YWH, are created to be a minor tragic character, then the universe IS focused on torturing you. So no wonder SQS doesn’t think anything of it at first (even taking into account that he thinks he rescued the novel protagonist and not a minor character slated to gruesomely die) - but when he rescues YWH and so the story’s mistreatment is him should have ended but he still seems to have a heavens’ put target on his back - that’s when SQS starts thinking and I love it!

2. It’s established with no muss no fuss that modern day doctor SQS and this world’s immortal cultivating doctor SQS are one and the same - their soul is the same etc. Not clear if they are reincarnation or soul fragments or what but I don’t care, it’s awesome either way.

3. You have succeeded making me feel bad for An Long. Jeez, everyone in this needs decades and decades of therapy. But as someone who’s read the ending, I find his and YWH’s different approaches at the end - An Long, like the rest of the deities, takes a memory wiping potion because he can’t bear to remember what he did and what happened in that world, and YWH, whose existence and what happened to him in that world is worse than anything the rest of them experienced put together (I mean that world was literally created to break him so) chooses not to because forgetting the horror would also mean forgetting the love and care and salvation of SQS. Swoooon!

4. That kid in medicine valley is cruising for a bruising but honestly I hope YWH doesn’t murder him because he’s also a victim even if not as extreme and he needs THERAPY (they all do omg!) but if he keeps going, YWH will probably bury him under the floorboards because any kindness, mercy or empathy in him are long gone.

5. SQS’ dream turned nightmare where he sits and studies all day and has literally no emotion and comprehends none and the only pleasure in his day is watching the Phoenix fly through the heavens and that is how his world acquires color and he comprehends emotion and then he wakes up crying because the Phoenix is gone!!!!! Spoiled me is rolling in it.

6. SQS is actually the perfect person to crack the uncrackable puzzle not just because he’s logical and smart but because he has the mind of a researcher in a sense of no matter how many times an experiment fails he will not give up but do a new approach and redo redo redo redo thousands of times.

7. I love (I mentioned it before) that SQS has his own damage and his own pain - he is not saintly to YWH because he doesn’t comprehend suffering - he is compassionate and patient and loving with YWH because that is his nature. That passage about how he was separated from everyone by his illness and how he felt as a burden to his family because he saw what it did to them and was relieved to die (that line that after he reincarnated, he never thought of them again because he knew they were best off without him and shouldn’t miss him!!!) is gut punching. And the cultivator incarnation felt the same honestly in a sense of having nothing to live for - that is why the OG Song Qingshi let An Long kill him right when the novel started (AL lost his temper and did it accidentally but as SQS points out, his body’s protections would automatically activate and the fact that they did not was because he didn’t mind dying - he couldn’t give his heart but his life he can give since he doesn’t mind one way or another. That’s horrifying!!!! But not surprising - it’s consistent how he completely disregards pain or is willing to pay with his body (not that way) for things and just...)

8. The fact that they are now necking on the reg is lovely. It’s very young teen tbh but how appropriate - for very different reasons, neither got proper teen development hormones or relationships or anything so for them to be able to do the sweet fumbling without it leading to anything more and it being so satisfying seems appropriate. And honestly it’s super healing to YWH’s particular toxic cocktail of issues - he wants SQS badly but if SQS actually exhibited genuine physical desire beyond kissing, it would freak YWH the hell out (since he associates that with dirtiness and horror - he’s either going to hate himself more thinking he is so horrible as to taint pure SQS by making him experience desire or start wondering if SQS is somehow like the rest of the world.) Slow and easy is honestly necessary here. And that way he gets to feel loved and gets to have the touch he craves and it’s SQS insisting he’s not dirty etc, but without the rest. And honestly, SQS also needs it very slow because it’s clear he’s in love but sexual desire is only now beginning to wake up in the smallest sense - he loves kissing but he is not physically turned on. In a way, despite how long he’s been around, he’s a white sheet of paper and is slowly coming alive but it’s sloooow. (Honestly, except for the fact that long term it would cause issues for YWH who despite his trauma does have a drive, it would have been interesting to have SQS actually asexual (but not aromantic). I do think even once he does discover he enjoys sexual activities, he’s not going to be particularly libido driven. He will want YWH because he loves YWH, but outside of that no.)

9. I get viscerally uncomfortable reading about YWH’s mysophobia not because I share it but because his coping strategies about it which barely allow him to get ahead of it are - it just hits.

Anyway, this novel is awesome!

[write-1t-bop-1t]

Plucked (Pixie Virgil/Dlampr) Part 1:

Summary: Virgil, a small and anxious pixie, goes out alone to scavenge for food only to find himself in the hands of a tall and not-so-gentle human intent on bringing him home as a gift to his boyfriends.

Words: 2670

(Warnings: Anxiety, treating people as pets, kidnapping, Character blacking out and other person thinking they died) - I stretch my arms as I yawn out, popping my back in the presses. I lean back and use my hands to rub out my sore wings, having slept on them weird. They flutter a bit as I try to wake up, the morning light shining through one of the small windows in my tree home hits them causing flashes of rainbow light to bounce off the walls.

A small smile crosses my face as I pull off the thick gray long sleeved shirt I wear to bed and change into a simple black tunic, the tunic itself being a little loose around the sleeves and neck, not that I really cared.

I walk across my dark hollow I call home, the whole room only being about a foot long and a half in human measurements. Sure it’s small, but I’ve never really liked large spaces, they make me feel overwhelmed.

There is a shard of broken mirror resting against the dark oaken wall, and I glance at myself in its reflection, taking specific notice in my hair that I try to tame with my fingers, not being very successful. I had given my brush to my cousin a few days ago for him to fix, and am yet to get it back from the forest fairy.

“Damn Emile…” I mutter to myself, cursing the kind fairy as I continue to struggle with my hair. The handle had been broken a small while ago, but it still worked its purpose. Which unfortunately wasn’t good enough for my green winged friend.

I don’t have great luck in flattening it down, and only seem to tame it a small amount. A few stray black strands continue to stick out, causing me to let out an annoyed sigh. I also notice a small amount of dark purple peeking out from my roots, reminding me that I need to get Emile to cut and re-dye it for me. I’ve never been too great at things like that, and last time I tried I almost cut my ear off and also left my arms up to my elbows dyed black. It didn’t wash out for a full month, and I got quite the earful from my older cousin, who acts more like my parent.

Always telling me to be careful, avoid humans, elves and other large creatures, never fly into Fae circles, stay out of the rain, remember to eat, and blah blah blah.

He’s way too protective of me, but I guess he has a reason to be, him being a fairy and me being a pixie. It’s easy to tell the difference, since fairies are two inches taller then pixies and it’s a well known fact that pixies are much more fragile than fairies. And much more rare, which is why I live in the middle of a dense forest, while Emile lives a little ways away and has to fly to see me.

I give up on trying to fix my hair and it’s not like anyone is going to see me. But thinking of my older cousin did remind me that I’m almost out of food and water. It rained a few days ago, but almost nothing ever reaches the mossy forest floor through the trees, and whatever did has dried up by now, meaning I have to go out to get supplies.

“Uuuugghhh….” I groan out as I rub my face. I hate leaving my house, I wish I could just stay here forever. But a main reason I picked my home to be here is it’s not too far from a small pond, hidden between some trees. But an even bigger plus is what’s right across the pond, where large berry bushes sprout. They hold all types of berries, making it the perfect spot to get food all year round.

It's secluded enough that no real predators are able to get to it, but just in-secluded enough for me to be able to walk there in about 20-30 minutes. I could fly but that draws too much attention to me, and I prefer walking over flying anyways.

I wish I was a fairy if I’m being honest, like Emile. His wings and body are much larger than mine, as I stand at a small 4 inches while he stands at a whopping 6. His wings are a light green color, looking like butterflies and they allow him to glide through the air instead of mine, which are thin, almost completely see through. They shimmer when light touches them, and they hold thin silver highlights that seem to emphasize their fragility. I always try to tuck them away, knowing of the horror stories of pixies who had gotten caught by humans, their wings torn off and used for jewelry or a collectors item, while they get thrown into a cage to live out the rest of their lives.

Another thing I happen to be jealous of is Emile’s skin tone. He holds a nice peach color that often ends up tanned due to him spending so much of his free time outside with the other creatures of his small section of forest. Pixies are known to be on the paler side, but I am almost sickly pale due to almost never getting sunlight, along with the patches of light and dark purple littering my skin, the most prominent ones being on my forearms and on both sides of my face.

I sigh again, putting on some platform shoes Emile had made me, grabbing a large bag I can throw over my shoulder, along with another bag stuffed inside to hold the water as I get ready to leave the house.

I put a small cloak on as well, using the hood to cover my hair, and to make it easier to camouflage, since I happen to pop out against the brown and lush green environment of the forest.

I use my feet to push up and leap my way up and out of the small room, my wings being open and fluttering slightly to help my balance.

There is one thing that Emile was jealous of me for, and that was the fact that even though pixies aren’t great or fast fliers like fairies, we can jump significantly higher than almost all fairies and on ground we are incredibly fast on our feet, which is another reason I prefer walking to flying.

I jump over the wall of my room and use my wings to lower myself onto the mossy forest floor. I stretch out my wings again before looking up and rubbing my eyes, trying to get used to the bright light coming from above the tree line high above. The sun feels warm against my skin, and it’s only slightly humid.

“I really need to get out more.” I say to myself as I adjust my bag and begin the trek towards the pond. I stick to walking near the trees instead of the few natural open paths, making it easy to leap up incase of any dangerous animals came towards me, and partially because I’m paranoid.

Wouldn’t be the first time somethings tried to eat me….

I continue walking, humming a quiet tune to ease my mind, as I always feel anxious walking outside by myself. I end up being alert the whole time, feeling as though I’m being watched. Of course I’m not being watched and I know that. No sane person would ever just walk into an enchanted forest, everyone knew that. Not to mention where I live is a good way into the forest, miles away from any human or elf towns.

I stop my humming abruptly as I hear a ruffle of leaves above me to the right, and my eyes shoot over to the area immediately. My breath stops as I try to stay as quiet and still as physically possible. After a few minutes of nothing happening, I let out a shaky sigh, allowing my muscles to relax.

It was probably the wind. Or a bird.

I shiver at the thought. Birds are the worst and one of the only predators a pixie can’t just fly away from.

I start speed walking towards the pond. Being by the large open water always calmed my nerves. There were no fish or kelpies and thank god there aren’t any mermaids or any type of aquatic animals living in the deep water for that matter. But I have seen a deer or two around the area, along with the water spirits that inhabit the clear waters. They let me take water as long as I give them something in return, which is normally a berry or two extra I grab from the bush on the other side of the lake. It’s not a lot, but I think they know I can’t carry much as it is.

I see the pond behind some long grass and my face lights up, as my anxiety seems to melt away. I always was at my calmest at the pond and my paranoid nature would be put on hold until I got home.

I smile as I walk towards the body of fresh water coming towards the edge, easily seeing my reflection in the clear surface.

Pixies and fairies can’t exactly swim, and if even a little water gets on our wings we become temporarily grounded and unable to fly. I don’t really worry about that when coming here, I mean, now anyways…

I slowly got over that fear a year or so ago,

I had been giving the water spirits berries in exchange for water for a while at that point, until one day I had gotten frightened and lost my footing causing me to fall straight into the depth below. I thought I was going to drown….

That was until I heard soft, echoing voices and the light above the water became brighter, the next thing I knew I woke up on the grass next to the pond and my satchel filled with fresh water. I made sure to put double the amount of berries into the pond that day…

I pull out my spare bag and unscrew the lid near the top before lowering it into the water and waiting for it to fill.

A few stray ripples in the blue water come towards me, causing small waves against my bag. I smile at it, making small talk. From anyone else’s view it would seem like I’m crazy and talking to myself, but I know that the water spirits appreciate conversation.

Once my bag is full I pull it away from the water and screw on the lid, while thanking the spirits. 

I use my cloak to dry off the outside of the pouch before placing my water bag inside my larger bag. Sure it’s heavy, but I don’t have anywhere to be at the moment, so I’ll take my time.

I sigh and begin the tiring trek around the pond. It takes longer than I would like to get to the berry bushes, but the sound of the soft water makes for a quiet and calming walk. Around this time of year, the path to the other side of the pond is extended. While the rain might not make it through the forest where I live, it does here, making the edges of the pond muddy and dangerous.

I walk deeper into the forest, making a big semi circle around the muddy area. I decide to walk deeper, enjoying the fresh air and the small breeze that causes my hood to almost fly off, but I fortunately catch it and pull it back onto my face.

I walk a straight line between a few of the trees, a content smile on my face, while starting to hum quietly to myself again. I close my eyes for a second as I walk, a hand crossing over on the strap of my bag, but when I open them slightly I notice a large dark shadow covering me. I look up quickly to see a large hand coming towards me.

Out of instinct I immediately drop my bag and jump backwards just in time for another hand to rush at me and I barely make it out of the way. I use the hand to push myself into the air, my wings immediately getting to work as I go to fly upwards, trying to put as much distance between me and the stranger.

‘Crap!-’

I don’t get more than a few feet before I narrowly avoid another hand, this one coming at me so quickly that instead of grabbing me, it barely manages to snag my cloak with it’s nail, but it lets out a loud ‘riiiiiiiiiiiip’ that seems to echo out into the otherwise quiet forest.

That momentary distraction is all it takes for the two large hands to harshly cup around me, shadowing me into darkness. Once it grips on I start to struggle, thrashing and screeching in it’s hold, my feet kicking against its palms. This only seems to anger it as its grip tightens to an almost suffocating hold, I whimper as the grip pushes my arms together, my chest feeling like it’s going to explode as tear prick the corners of my eyes.

My wings sting against the calloused hands and I can feel him start to move quickly causing me to bump around against the mini prison, murmurs of someone's voice heard somewhere outside as my vision starts to swim, so I do the only reasonable thing I could think of.

I bite down. Hard.

I draw blood easily and the second the hand opens I launch myself out towards the light ahead of me, adrenaline and fear fueling my movements as I see the hand try to reach out to me before I see it pushing down, taking me with it.

All I see is the hand and the forest floor rushing up to greet me before I’m slammed onto it, the weight of the hand crushing me and knocking the wind out of my chest before everything in sight is covered in black pools and eventually nothing….

-

I groan from my place on the ground, having tripped over my own feet when reaching for the winged mini-person. My boyfriend Logan was always fascinated with fairies so when I saw it just walking around I figured it would make a great ‘I’m-Sorry-I-Accidentally-Lit-The-Bathroom-On-Fire’ gift.

I hadn't expected the thing to bite me though. Or sting me, I don’t know which one it was but it hurts like a bitch. I hope they're not poisonous…. But then again if they are, my boyfriends will have to take care of me….. I shake my head to get rid of the thought, looking around for the little thing that has caused me so much trouble.

I look to where my hand is planted on the ground, and I try to keep it steady as I wipe a bit of dirt that had gotten on my green throw over that Patton had made me bring incase it got cold.

I scoop up the little being with both of my hands in a little pocket, making sure not to crush it and bring it up to my eyes before slowly opening my hands, allowing me to look at it.

I can see it’s pale skin, dark messy hair and clearly ripped cloak, along with some patches of purple throughout their body. But the most striking part are its wings, not like any fairies I’d ever heard of, and once the light catches them they seem to burst with colors…

“Logan is going to love this!” I mutter to myself.

But then I notice something else strange. The once feisty and screeching fairy wasn’t struggling, heck it wasn’t moving at all! 

My body jumps when I realize this, and I nearly drop the little person, my eyes widen in panic as I end up blurting out,

“Shit! Did I fucking kill it!?”

[spaceskam]

On The Side Of The Road

for a late day 6 of @isobelevansappreciation​: emotions/healing

Summary: After picking up Alex from the military base, Isobel and Alex get stranded on the side of the road and encounter someone with not-so-great intentions.

Warning: creepy guy with creepy intentions, mild violence, trauma, fun stuff like that

ao3

Isobel hated every single thing about this.

“It’ll be fun, he said. Bonding, he said. You have so much in common, he said,” Isobel grumbled before roughly kicking the flat tire that decided to pop when they were nowhere near anything and there was no cell service.

“Isobel,” Alex said calmly, “I’m going to change it, don’t worry. We’ll be out of here in no time.”

Isobel rolled her eyes and crossed her arms, watching the Airman run his fingers through his hair a little too dramatically for the situation. It wasn’t that she didn’t like Alex, but she didn’t know the guy well enough to spend a five-hour car drive with him and she didn’t really trust anyone in the military because it was easy to assume they all had a power fetish. But it was for Michael so she’d agreed. Now she was regretting it.

This weekend was their 23rd birthday and the one single thing Michael wanted was his boyfriend to come visit him. After some last-minute arrangements and a little bit of influence, Isobel had convinced Alex’s boss to let him have the weekend off. But Alex was apparently scared of planes (which was downright comical for someone in the Air Force to be scared of planes, by the way) and Michael couldn’t afford to take the day off of work to go get him, so that left Isobel.

She hadn’t expected to run over something sharp enough to pop her tire though.

"Where is your spare?" Alex asked, already digging through her trunk.

"I'm already using my spare," Isobel said, gesturing towards the back wheel. He stared at her for a solid 30 seconds in disbelief.

"You're joking," he said blandly. Isobel raised her eyebrows to say she absolutely wasn't and that's why she was so irritated. She didn't want to be stuck with him in the middle of the goddamn desert. "Right."

Isobel watched in veiled amusement as Alex felt his pockets and pulled out his phone, squinting as he held it up to try to find signal. She watched him walk around in search and spent that time trying to figure out what exactly Michael saw in him.

He was handsome enough, she guessed, but he'd gone from a fashion disaster in high school to a military man with unflatteringly short hair and plain clothes that could be on any man in the entire US. The few conversations she'd had with Alex had told her nothing about him, even their car ride consisted of short answers. Imagining that with Michael didn't make sense.

Isobel was broken from her daze as he jumped onto the hood of the car and walked to stand on the roof.

"What are you doing?!" Isobel yelled. He ignored her, squinting up at the sun as he held the phone to his ear.

"Guerin? Hey, can you hear me?" Alex said into the phone, voice the same exact tone as it was when he spoke to her. She didn't like that either. She saw the way Michael melted when he thought about him. He deserved sweetness too. "Shit, look, if you can hear me, Isobel's tire is blown. We're 40 miles northwest of Roswell. I'll try to send a text."

Alex ended the call and stayed posted up on the roof of the car as he typed out a message, clearly posing as if he had a photoshoot no one else knew about before jumping off. Isobel stared dully at him.

"Am I supposed to be impressed?" she asked. 

"No," he said, shrugging off his jacket so he was left in a plain white tank top and plain baggy jeans.

Clearly, she was supposed to see something in him that she saw in herself. Michael always said how similar they were, but she knew damn well she wasn't that closed off and boring. Or, at least, she hoped.

Alex's phone dinged with a message after a few minutes of him pointlessly inspecting the tire and he looked at it with a bored expression.

"Michael said he's on his way, but it'll probably take him at least an hour to find us," Alex explained, pushing himself to an upright position again. 

"Oh, so we can call him Michael as long as he can't hear?" Isobel asked. Alex raised an eyebrow.

"What?"

"I've only heard you call him Guerin to his face.”

Alex didn’t reply as he kicked the tire and then sighed. She waited for him to respond, but it didn’t happen and he just leaned against the car. Isobel stared at him and he stared at the ground. The silence seemed to drag on as the sun just beamed down with unforgiving heat, but Alex easily seemed to be in a spotlight. She hadn’t really noticed that he was attractive before since he wasn’t her type (and she definitely wasn’t his), but he seemed to glow like a model under the sun. His skin was tanned and his biceps were sculpted. She could understand why Michael liked at least that.

Isobel was nearly sweating by the time she said, “You know, Michael wanted us to bond, but you don’t talk very much.”

“What’s there to talk about?”

“I don’t know, what’s it like being queer in the military?” Isobel asked immediately. He shot her an icy glare that made her have to hold back a smile that, after hours of being locked in a car with him, she got a reaction. “What, gonna try to deny that?”

“I didn’t deny shit.”

“Okay, then what’s it like?” she prodded. Alex huffed a dry laugh and shook his head.

“How about you tell me what it’s like to be white and thriving off Daddy’s money in the suburbs?” Alex shot back. Isobel raised an unbothered eyebrow.

“Shouldn’t you know a little about that too?”

“My dad’s got money,” Alex said, a cynical smile on his face as he held out his hand as if that was enough explanation for the other part he didn’t quite fit, “Not me.”

“Fair enough,” Isobel agreed. Alex took a deep, grounding breath and then to sit on the hood of the car. Isobel gave him a few seconds before following and sitting beside him.

“Oh my God,” he groaned softly.

“You know, you should learn to like me,” Isobel said, “According to Michael, we’re very similar.”

“I don’t see it.”

“Neither do I.”

They sat on the car in silence again. The cynicism seemed to boil between them as they waited for Michael, so, when a truck pulled up in front of them, they both let out sighs of relief. Except, when the dust settled, it was clear that it wasn’t Michael and the figure of a man sat in the driver’s seat instead.

“Get in the car,” Alex said, eyes narrowed as he sat up straighter and stared at the truck, “Lock the doors.”

“What? It’s not that big of a deal, he’s probably just offering help,” Isobel said. Alex shook his head.

“Get in the car and lock the doors” Alex repeated, sliding off the hood.  

Isobel didn’t move as he walked with a confident air, shoulders back and a cocky swagger in his step. Michael liked to imitate that walk when he was pretending to be big and bad, but he was always comically bad at pulling it off. Alex, on the other hand, actually managed to look at least semi-intimating and entirely capable when he did it. She might’ve been impressed if she wasn’t scared that would piss off the stranger in the truck.

The guy got out of his truck with his hands shoved deep in his pockets, looking perfectly normal and not at all scary if not for that one little fact. Alex seemed to spot that right away and angled himself so his left side was closer towards the car.

“Y’all need some help?” he asked.

“Thanks, but we have someone a few minutes out,” Alex responded.

“You sure about that?” the guy asked, eyes going to Isobel, “‘Cause I bet the pretty little lady you got there might not wanna wait in this heat. You really gonna make her wait?”

“Yeah,” Alex said cooly, not moving as he provided a block between the two of them, “I am, actually.” 

Isobel had her nose scrunched up in disgust, but she appreciated Alex’s dismissive attitude. That was the first time she could see herself in him like Michael always said.

“Thank you, but you can go now,” Alex said.

“I can stay until your ride gets here,” the guy said. Isobel silently questioned if Alex was psychic or just so paranoid and it was simply a coincidence that he was right.

“No, we’re fine,” Alex said firmly.

The guy’s eyes found Isobel again and she just kept her stern face of disgust. She’d decided a long time ago not to be scared of men anymore. Sure, the drifter was scary and so were all the other creepy men she encountered on a daily basis, but she had learned how to take care of herself. She refused to give them the satisfaction.

“You want me to stay, don’t you?” he asked Isobel, tilting his head in her direction. She gave a smile and waved goodbye wordlessly. He laughed and went to take a step closer.

Alex put a hand on his chest before he could get around him, not-so-kindly pushing him back. Another check in the box of what Michael saw in him.

“Oh, c’mon,” the guy said.

“Fuck off,” Alex told him, unmoving. 

“You heard the man,” Isobel said, trying not to sound too playful despite her utter enjoyment at watching Alex shut him down, “Fuck off.”

“I’m just tryin’ to help, you don’t have to be so ungrateful,” the guy said, fiddling with his pockets a little more. Isobel watched his hands carefully and hoped this wasn’t about to turn into a shitty horror movie. She didn’t sign up for that. She barely signed up for picking up Alex in the first place.

The guy took a step forward again and Alex again pushed him away. However, the guy took his hands out of his pockets and pushed him back. Isobel sat up straight, adrenaline pumping through her as she tried to figure out how to prevent her brother’s boyfriend from getting beaten to a pulp.

By the time the first two punches were thrown, she slid off the hood of the car and ran over to them. She grabbed Alex’s arm and pulled him away and stood between them, letting Alex still glare over her shoulder as he wiped a bit of blood from beneath his nose.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?!” Isobel snapped over her shoulder at the strange man, “You just pulled over looking for a fight?!” 

He gave a cold little laugh, all too similar to what that drifter had sounded like that night almost 10 years before, and he reached out to grab her waist. And Isobel realized that it had nothing to do with looking for a fight from Alex at all.

“Get the fuck off of me!” she yelled, squirming just enough to get where she could elbow him between his legs. He groaned, letting her fall to the ground pathetically. Her heart was thudding in her ears and she was breathing heavily, but she managed to scramble to her feet quick enough to not show any ounce of weakness to the stranger.

Alex had grabbed him by the shirt collar while he was down and dragged him back to his truck, slamming the door. Isobel spat on the hood so she could at least do something.

“Man, y’all are fuckin’ crazy,” the stranger said as he quickly started up his truck. A whole slew of obscenities came to Isobel’s mind in response, but her heavy breathing only allowed her to hold up her middle finger. Alex stayed right by the truck until it peeled off.

Once he was completely out of sight and the initial adrenaline started to fade, Isobel felt like she couldn’t breathe. Tears burned at her eyes and that stupid, stupid fear that he was going to come back for her burned in her mind. With the drifter, even after watching Max tackle him to where his head slammed against a rock and even after watching Michael dig a grave for an hour straight, she always felt like he was going to come back. She’d finally gotten over that feeling.

“Isobel?” Alex asked, voice soft for the very first time, “Hey, are you okay? I’m sorry I let him grab you like that, but he’s gone now.”

She struggled to find her breath, struggled to hear him properly, struggled to do anything but feel overwhelmed with fear. Alex held his hands out in front of her eyes, a silent way to ask if he could touch her. She gave a short little nod despite not wanting him. She wanted her brothers, but they weren’t here. Alex would have to do.

Instead of a hug though, Alex gently grabbed her arm and led to help her sit down on the sand. They both sat criss-cross across from each other, their knees touching. He still had blood under his nose, but he didn’t seem to mind as he looked her in the eye.

“You’re allowed to feel this way,” he said and he held her hand, just being there until she was able to calm herself down.

She felt so stupid. Logically, she was overreacting. It wasn’t that big of a deal. Would she still feel like this if she didn’t have that experience with that drifter? Would still she feel overwhelmed? Would she still want Michael and Max as much as she did? But no matter how stupid she felt, Alex kept saying that she was allowed to cry and overreact and be this way. He wasn’t freaked out. He didn’t ask questions. He just told her it was valid.

And she really understood what Michael meant about them being similar.

Eventually, her crying subsided and she calmed down enough to at least pretend to be normal. She would probably hug Michael once he got there until she felt all the way better, but she was okay.

“Thanks,” Isobel said, drying her eyes with her hand that wasn’t still gripping his.

“Don’t thank me,” he said. She looked at him for a moment and weighed the options of telling Alex about the drifter so he would understand a little better. It was obviously not her place to tell the actual aftermath of it, but she could tell him the first part.

“On our 13th birthday, Michael, Max, and I went out camping and I left the tent to go pee, so I was by myself. Then this guy came out of nowhere and grabbed me and started dragging me away, I’ve never been so scared in my life,” she admitted. Alex didn’t show much emotion other than his eyebrows raising slightly. “Max and Michael had to fight him off. I was so fucking helpless and I told myself I would never be helpless again. But I guess I still am. What a great 10th anniversary reminder, am I right?”

“What are you talking about, you’re not helpless. You got that guy to let go of you and, if I wasn’t here, you probably would’ve easily beat the shit out of him yourself. You were back on your feet in seconds. You’re a fighter, that’s what fighters do,” Alex said. Isobel shook her head, looking over to the side. “Hey, I’m serious. That wasn’t proof that you’re still helpless, that was proof that you’ve grown. Trauma doesn’t go away, but you’ve clearly done a damn good job at making it your bitch. You held your ground until you were safe and that’s the best you could’ve possibly done, so don’t beat yourself up about it. You did great. I’m proud of you.”

Isobel huffed a little laugh, “How many years of therapy have you had?”

Alex scrunched up his nose and held up his hand, his thumb and index finger about an inch apart. Isobel shook her head through another laugh before sniffling. They sat there for a few more minutes before Isobel eventually got up so she could go fix her makeup and not look like a crying mess.

“Can we not tell Michael about this?” she asked cautiously, “Like, we can tell him the situation, but not the part where he grabbed me? Because I know him and Max and I don’t want to deal with that.”

“Absolutely, no problem,” Alex said, “Don’t really wanna deal with telling him that either.”

Isobel sat in the driver’s seat and Alex sat in the passenger seat, each of them touching up their face in respective ways. Both of them made a few small comments here and there, keeping the conversation light and the mood high. This day would just be their little secret.

By the time Michael pulled up, it was easy to pretend like nothing really happened and that the tight hug she gave him was her simply being dramatic over her busted tire.

[gophergal]

Hooooo Boy! This took longer to write than I though, but with the help of @bucketofcowboys ​ , I did it! (Encouragement from @bisexual-horror-fan was also a major motivator) enjoy this second chapter <3

I’m Not Lonely - Chapter Two

Word count:4 000+| Rating: M |  Michael Myers x OC | M/F

Morning came, with all that entails. In the midst of her freshly awakened delirium, Jean was sure that the previous night's events had just been a strange dream. She'd been known to have dreams like that, especially when she was stressed. The paranoia induced by the news I listened to on the way home must have been the basis, she told herself. She had been exhausted and what she did in that dream was absolutely ridiculous. Never in a million years would she be so stupid as to do what she did. That would be like one of those foolish horror story protagonists that Jolene liked to tell her about. With a light chuckle, Jean changed out of her pajamas into the brown sweater and jeans she liked wear on cool mornings like this. There were plenty of things to do today, but none of them could be done on an empty stomach, so off to the kitchen it was.

As she reached the bottom of the stairs, the living room came into view, and suddenly her train of thought came to a screeching halt. The coveralls, with their dark stains and tears, lay on the floor, mocking her for her stupidity. Their owner, however, was absent, with no sign of his presence. Jean's heart began to beat far too fast in her chest as her mind raced with all the things that could go wrong. She turned suddenly to leave the room and crashed into a solid mass, stunning her for a moment. At once, she was hit with a wave of embarrassment as she was pressed against the chest of her uninvited guest.

“Oh! Excuse me, I didn't see you there,” She exclaimed, taking a step back from the man. Now, in the daylight, she could take the moment to realize how tall he was. He was about a whole foot taller taller than her, built like a football player, and, when she'd been pressed against him, solid muscle. “Um, I, well, I'm going to be making myself some breakfast. Would you like to join me in the kitchen?” He didn't answer, unsurprisingly, but she could feel his presence as she moved toward the other room. Her mind was a storm as she flipped an egg in the skillet. What am I even doing? She wondered, I don't know who the hell this guy is or what he did last night before he broke in.

Jean set a plate of eggs and toast in front of the stranger, then sat across from him with her own steaming plate. The air was heavy with tension as they sat, the man staring at Jean as she struggled to force her mouth to form words. Neither of them reach for their food and Jean feels the need to squirm in her seat. She spots her notebook and pen.

“Ah, I- Um, I never caught you name,” she pushed the paper and writing instrument toward him gently, “Mine's Jeanette. Jeanette Parrish. Well, I just go by Jean, because that's what everyone calls me.” She stuttered out. She would almost feel embarrassed if he weren't watching her in such an intimidating way. Like an owl watching a mouse scurry across the forest floor, waiting for the moment to swoop down with its talons bared.

Stop that, she thought to herself, you're working yourself up over nothing. The little voice of common sense returned, Or not. He very well could be dangerous. After all, how many good men just break into a person's home covered in blood, refusing to speak? Feeling a bit overwhelmed by the thoughts racing in her head, Jean pushed herself up from the seat a bit too forcefully, nearly knocking her half eaten breakfast off the table. She needed air. Somewhere without his eyes on her, forcing her mind to spin wild thoughts. She went outside to the utility shed, a basket of dirty laundry (she'd grabbed the filthy jumpsuit without thinking on her way out) pressed to her hip as she exited. The washing machine was set up to cycle and she leaned against it as it filled with water.

She let out a shaky breath, tapping her fingers against the cold metal as she calmed. The machine hummed and shook as it worked, the rhythm of it lulling her into a sort of relaxing trance, broken by the buzz signaling the cycle's completion. On autopilot, she removed the garments from the washer's drum and took them to the line, performing the repetitive motion of hanging them up to dry. When done, she went back inside, seeing no sign of the man when she did. He wasn't in the kitchen, where she had left him, the only sign of him being on the table, where his empty plate sat beside the notebook. Jean was amazed to see a name written down on the paper in a childish, unpracticed scrawl. “Michael,” she read softly to herself. Well, that answers one thing, she thought, but leaves a lot more for me to wonder about.

Michael watched from threshold undetected as the woman, Jean, flit around the kitchen tidying things up and washing the plates and silverware. She moved with purpose and care, reminding him much of the few nurses who cared for him in the sanitarium. One question kept coming to him, however: how stupid was this woman? When she first saw him, she did not scream or beg, or even run away. No, this one stood her ground against him, a thing of pure evil, silent and horrific. Admittedly, it intrigued him, her strangeness. He realized that she lived alone, yet appeared no older than his escaped prey, Laurie. Young women didn't tend to live alone, only old women and men did. She would have been an easy kill, had he chosen to do so.

Why hadn't he? Well he hadn't wanted to, of course. Why hadn't he, though? Enough. He wouldn't waste time on this line of thought for longer than he needed to. Only because you have no answer, The Shape spoke. He supposed that was true. He felt the same urges he had when seeing those girls Laurie surrounded herself with. The same urge he felt when he was young, seeing the life leave Judith. Jean was beautiful, and  there was only one thing a devil could ever do to beautiful things: destroy them.

Jean felt eyes on her back as she put the clean, dry plates in the cabinet. She twirled around to see Michael in the threshold, head cocked ever so slightly to the side. She started to move again, not even noticing the pause she made in her movements. She walked past Michael into the living room, deciding to straighten the book shelves and sweep the floor. The usual intense focus she would fall into refused to come, the presence of another body too distracting for her to push from her mind. Why won't he leave, she wondered quietly.

Eventually, she gave up on the endeavor, choosing to flop onto the couch, frustrated. She picked up the book on the end table. Well, I could always start that book Jo recommended to me, she considered as she opened the book. She'd only gotten a few lines in when she felt breath on her shoulder, causing her to hesitantly look to the source. Michael stood, head tilted like a confused pup. She swallowed and pointed to the book, “Have you read this one? My coworker said it was good, but I'm not very fond of scary stories,” she said, “but, if you wanted, I could read it aloud and we could experience it together? You might want to sit down if that's the case.”

Truthfully, she just wanted him to stop hovering uncomfortably behind her like a cat ready to pounce. To her surprise, he did, though a bit closer than she was comfortable with, a closeness which was increased by gravity pulling her to the low spot made by his superior weight. She cleared her throat, “Well, I suppose I should start then,” a pause as she readied herself to read, “Chapter one: Job Interview. Jack Torrance thought: Officious little prick...”

She read until she could read no more, Michael sitting as still as a cold marble slab next to her on the old couch. When she looked up, throat scratching from the use, she noticed that it was quite dark outside and, upon looking at the clock, realized that she had missed dinnertime and her stomach was quick to confirm. Dog-earring the page she was reading, Jean set the book back on the table, rushing to the kitchen to get something to eat. She eats a plate of leftover meatloaf that had been in the refrigerator, and left a plate for Michael, should he decide to have some. With a yawn, she turned off the light in the kitchen, slinking up the stairs and looking over to the couch where Michael still sat.

The bedroom door was shut firmly behind her and she turned the lock to give her peace of mind while she slept. Are you so sure that will keep you safe, her common sense questions, when he's so close by? She pushed it from her mind, it's all she could do if she wanted to sleep. Besides, becoming paranoid wouldn't serve her well either. The bed wasn't comfortable enough to counter her stress and confusion over the situation she'd gotten herself into.

Jean awoke abruptly, horribly aware on this morning that the previous day and night were not, in fact, dreams. She was also horribly aware that she would have to leave her room at some point that day. Oh shit, she thought, I have to work tonight. Snuggling further into the soft comforter on the bed, she grumbled internally. She didn't hate her job, but she sure as hell didn't like it. Annoying, entitled customers weren't the only thing she disliked about it, but they were a big part of it. The next man to call her “sugar tits”, “babydoll”, or anything overly familiar was going to have to get her fist surgically removed from his face. She was a waitress, goddamnit, not a whore! And even whores deserved more respect than that. Both she and they were just working women, after all. How could that ever be undeserving of basic human dignity?

Rolling out of bed, she hissed at the cold hardwood under her bare feet. The weather is cooling rather quickly, she noted as she put on slippers, unlocked the door, and braced herself as she tiptoed down the stairs. There was no sign of Michael, which seemed to be the norm with him. She half expected to run into him again as she had the previous morning. He wasn't in the kitchen either. Or the bathroom. Or the closet. Not hiding behind her like the shadowy creature in an old monster movie. Finally, she checked the backyard, only to see that the man's coveralls were missing and in there place the clothes he'd borrowed had been lazily draped over the line.

It was- surreal in a way. He was gone just as abruptly as he'd appeared. It was almost sad to have him gone, in a strange way. The house felt emptier, like it was missing something. She shook her head. No, this was the way it was meant to be. She could only hope that he didn't decide to return. That settles that, she thought to herself, now I can just live my life in peace. All that left for her to do was get some breakfast and enjoy some time to herself. Same thing as every day. Eggs and toast. Get dressed. Tidy the house. Sit and read. She felt odd picking up The Shining again. It's rude to read ahead when you're trying to share a book after all. She put it down without a second thought. Picking up an old favorite, she began to read it all over again. It must have been the- what? Tenth time? Something like that. It was a comforting book to read, after all.

Soon enough, it came time to ready herself for the long shift ahead. Her clean, wrinkle-free pink blouse and black skirt reflected back at her in the mirror as she pulled  her hair into a half ponytail in the back. She dragged herself to the car, an old gray clunker that had to be from the last decade or so. Jean didn't really know. It was granddad's from when he was a younger man, but she remembered how her brain would shut down every time he tried to talk cars at her. At least she knew how to change tires and oil, the mechanic could worry about everything else.

The door to the diner section of the truck stop swung open as Jean walked in. There was only one patron sitting at a table, a plate of meat and potatoes set before him. He looked up at Jean and gave her a friendly nod, which she returned with a smile. At least he wouldn't be a nuisance tonight. She walked back into the kitchen where Jolene leaned against a counter top as she chatted with Gus, the cook. He was a big man who's heart was as big as his biceps. He was an amazing cook too and, oftentimes, it made Jean wonder why he hadn't become a chef at some big fancy restaurant. He noticed her and grinned.

“Hey Jean, did you have a good day off?” he asked, deep voice carrying over to her. Jolene seemed to light up, turning to look at Jean.

“Yeah, it's never as fun around here without you!” she said. Jean smiled.

“Oh, y'know, same old, same old. I started reading that book you recommended to me though!”

“Really? What do you think? I know you're not one for scary stories, but I thought you might like this one.”

“Pretty good so far, actually. I didn't think I'd like it, but I've enjoyed it quite a bit. I like the atmosphere the author's set.” Jolene smiled at that.

“That makes me really happy, Jean. Now if only you'd just-”

The redhead was cut off by the jingle of the door as a customer stepped into the establishment. Jean flashed her a small smile as she made her way over to where the man sat down. She knew exactly what Jo was about to say next and felt as though she'd dodged a bullet when she got away. Now she'd just have to be sure she wasn't hit by the ricochet when they took their break. “Now sir, what can I get you?”

Finally, a quiet moment came where no customers sat in the dining area. Jean took the moment to join Jo as she left out the back door. Jolene stood in the light of the small bulb that flickered above the back door. She puffed away at a cigarette that she clenched between her peach toned lips. A grin quirked up to her lips when she noticed Jean, who sighed as she prepared for the usual lecture Jo liked to give her.

“Oh Jean, you wouldn't believe the guy that came in here yesterday,” Jo began, taking a pull off the dwindling white stick, “guy waltzes in like he thinks he's hot shit. Couldn't be any older than, what? Sixteen, I'd guess. Just some dumb fucking kid. And he says to me Ay, dollface, how's 'bout you get me a beer?”

She throws her hair around, “As if he thinks we won't card him, ha! I tell him about as much and say I'll bring him a soda, so Mr Tough Guy gets pissy, but agrees. When I leave to go get it though, the little bastard grabs my ass! What a pig, am I right?

Well, I know he's lucky that you weren't here because you would've been on him like that!” she snaps for effect, “well, Gus just threw him out and made sure I was ok, but still, what a little creep!” She finishes, throwing her hands up in the air as she did.

“Wow,” Jean began, a bit confused as she always was when Jo would go off on a rant like that, “the nerve of some people! You're right, I would've taught him some manners right then and there. Little bastard.” She swore.

“It's no big deal, I guess. It's not like I'm hurt or anything.”

“That's not the point! You know I can't stand when people like that act like they can just do whatever the hell they want.”

“I know, but there's no need to worry about it. Gus took care of it.”

“Not as harshly as he should have.”

“Well, you know that's just not how he rolls.”

“I do.”

“Now-”

“Oh no.”

“Don't you Oh no me! You didn't call my buddy Robert back!” She threw her hands to her hips, her brows furrowed.

“Jo, please-”

“You promised me that you'd give him a chance, Jean.”

“I did. We just didn't hit it off, I guess.”

“Ugh, that doesn't mean you get to be rude to the guy. The best thing to do is tell him up front.”

“I'm sorry,” and she was. Jo was just trying to help her, in her own way. This was the third guy she'd set Jean up with. It was sweet of her, but the help was unneeded and very much unwanted.

“I'm just- Well, I'm just worried about you. I don't want you to end up a lonely old woman, bitter because you never found anyone.”

“According to you, I'm there already,” Jean said, chuckling.

“Laugh it up, but when that happens you'll think: Oh, how I wish I listened to Jolene! She's always been so smart, why did I disregard her advice!” she danced about dramatically as she said this, throwing an arm over her head with the last word, making Jean snort-laugh.

“Alright, alright, you have a point.”

“Yes, I do! Now do you promise to keep an open mind?”

“Of course.”

“Pinkie promise?”

“Yes,” she said, holding out the finger, which Jo hooked with her own. The door opened gently and Gus stopped it with his foot.

“Something I missed?” he asked softly.

“No, no,” Jo laughed, “nothing at all!” Gus rolled his eyes.

“A'right then, well your break's up, ladies,” he said, holding the door open more so that they could enter.

Jean felt light as she drove home from work. Her shoulders were relaxed as the blackness surrounding her passed by. Talking to Jo and Gus was like therapy for her. She could almost push Michael and his intrusion from her mind. Almost. She was still a little worried that he'd show back up in the night. Thankfully, there was no figure on her couch when she unlocked and opened the door (making very sure to lock it back after her). There was no man sat at her table, no towering mass in her corner with intense black eye holes that made her feel weak and small. And that was how it stayed for days. That's how it stayed when she woke up to eat eggs and toast. That's how it was when she went to work and when she got home. For about two weeks.

She got home after a late shift, more tired than she had been in a long while. It had been the stress, she guessed, of Jo reminding her that she had no plans for the holidays that were rapidly approaching. No loving husband and in laws to fill her home with joyful voices and good memories. Being alone had its downsides, it seemed. She flopped straight into bed with a muffled groan of annoyance, then fell asleep with ease. It was also with ease, however, that she was awoken. First slowly by the creaking of her window and the cool breeze that came through it, but then abruptly by the sudden presence at the end of her bed.

The foreboding black shadow just stood there, the moonlight obscuring the figure in silhouette. She at once felt panic rush through her veins as she kicked her legs out. They connected with the figure's abdomen, forcing a deep strangled grunt from it. She flipped out of the bed, staggering to her feet as they tried to carry her to the exit. Her arm was grabbed, causing her to slip and nearly fall, had she not been pulled roughly to the figure's solid chest. She struck out with her free hand wildly, which was caught in a vice-like grip and, using the leverage gained from having her hands in its grasp, the figure pushed her roughly against the wall, pinning her and knocking the air from her lungs. The figure breathed heavily.

Jean squirmed helplessly against the wall, her torso bared vulnerably to her attacker. She squeezed her eyes shut, turning her head away and holding her breath as she waited for the inevitable. When nothing happened she opened her eyes and looked back, catching the sight of a telltale white mask and blue coveralls. “What the hell, Michael?” She breathed through a clenched jaw. He responded with a head tilt, as though he saw no issue with the situation at hand.

“You can't just do that!” She yelled, which amused him because he could, and he did.

“Can I at least have my arms back?” She asked, as he pretended not to hear her, keeping her arms in his cruel grip.

“I'm sorry I kicked you, but you have to understand that I was afraid I would really be killed- Or worse!” Were he any other man, Michael would have chuckled. Not yet, Jean, the Shape supplied for him. That would have to wait. Regardless, he released her wrists, which she rubbed gratefully. She left the room, pausing to look over her shoulder expectantly, almost like she was waiting for him to follow her. And so he did, down the stairs and into the living room where she plopped herself down on the couch. He sat beside her, feeling as she leaned against him at first, then readjusted herself on the couch.

“It's been a while, huh?” She said softly, peering at him nervously. “Well, I'll admit, I can't get back to sleep with all this excitement. I'd like to read our book. Would you like that?” He tilted his head, first to one side, then to the other, which she took as a yes of sorts. She cleared her throat, then picked up the book, “Alright-y, where were we? Aha! There!” And she began to read.

Michael didn't pay much attention to what she was reading to him. On occasion, he would tune back in to her words to catch bits of the plot. Not that it interested him, but her voice, on the other hand- It was mesmerizing. He'd heard women's voices before. Obviously. Usually they held the tone of disinterested disgust, much like the nurses at the sanitarium. Sometimes it was in the midst of a pleasured moan, much like his sister, Judith mere moments before her life ended. Best of all was their fear, their pain, their death. The sound of it intoxicating, filling him with a sense of control and satisfaction. Something about Jean's voice, however, was very different.

When he heard her voice, regardless of what he would think on first seeing her (that being the desire to snuff her out like a candle), he would begin to feel a sense of calm wash over him. He felt like a child again, hearing his mother speak to him in soft tones. Mother. She wasn't quite like his mother, this woman, but it was a closer comparison than to either of his sisters. She was caring. Not like the nurses, with their fake chipper tones and needles filled with numbing drugs. No, she was real. For a moment, when she bandaged his wounds, he remembered Sunday school and the stories of angels he was told. Is this an angel? He asked the Shape. No, it responded angrily, this is flesh and blood. This is for you to rip and shred. To break into a million pieces. But not now, not yet. Now you wait. Now you remain patient.

And so he did.

[one-boring-person]

You Tell Us.

David(The Lost Boys) x Reader

Context: (Y/n) is a vampire hunter who lives in Santa Carla, alongside the vampires already residing there, with her sister. One night, she comes home to find the boys, minus one, worked up about something, convinced that she is the cause of what has happened.

Warnings: Blood, fatal injuries.

The hot air around me is suffocating as I trek up the dusty trail to my house, wishing now that I'd ridden my motorbike into Santa Carla, rather than walking in like I'd thought I was up to, my leather jacket not doing anything to help my case. Sighing reluctantly, I go to take it off, before thinking better of it when I realise I can’t be bothered to carry it, pushing the sleeves up my arms instead, flicking my sweaty hair from my face as I walk, kicking a stone along the darkened path. Above me, the sky has long since faded into darkness, the moon barely visible through the clouds littering the black expanse, the sight of it a stark reminder of the twisting feeling in my gut.

Something is wrong.

The sensation has plagued me for hours now, especially when I noticed the biker gang hadn’t turned up at the Boardwalk, the lack of their usual mischievous antics barely missed by anyone other than me, the vampires’ absence worrying me to no end. As soon as I'd realised they weren't around, I left to go home, worried for the safety of my sister still residing in my house (I say "my house" but really it's just an empty house we moved into when we first arrived here), blissfully unaware of the horrors concealed in the town. Of course, it took me a while to get out of Santa Carla, what with the Frog brothers and their new friend, Sam Emerson, pestering me for more information and help regarding the “nightstalker situation” as they call it, only letting me go when I gave them some more misleading advice for them to follow up on, trying my best not to draw attention to the vampires I know to inhabit the small town.

Normally, I would’ve taken them out by now, but the deal I made with them keeps me from doing so, so I suck it up and give them the same amount of respect and friendliness they pay me, which isn’t too much, in all honesty, but that suits me fine. The arrangement stated that I wouldn’t kill any of them, only taking out any other vampires and hunters that come into their territory, if they promised only to target the more criminal side of the public, leaving innocents alone as much as possible, but that doesn’t mean I trust them, any of them, even if I have developed an unfortunate soft spot for their leader.

Shaking myself back into the present, I feel the dread in my stomach welling up as I come into view of the house, only to find the building completely dark. Frowning in worry, I pick up the pace, pushing past the gate in my haste to reach the front door, which stops me in my tracks as I catch sight of it.

It is ajar, the locks snapped off completely.

Setting my jaw in grim realisation, I reach into my inner jacket pocket, pulling out the stake laced with holy water, the smooth wood reassuring under my fingers as I slowly push open the door, bracing myself for whatever lies past the boundary. Waiting for me is the dark interior of my hall, everything as it should be, barring the lack of light, my pulse picking up a little as I survey the area in trepidation. Entering, I step carefully, trying to keep as quiet as I can so as not to alert the intruders to my presence, though if it is who I think it is, there’s no point. All around me, the house is eerily quiet, no sounds accompanying my entrance.

Looking to my left, I notice that the door to the lounge has been torn clean off its hinges, the area behind it as black as the rest of the house. I grit my teeth, trying to see into the room as much as possible, though I know it's impossible thanks to my human vision, so I grab the torch off the table beside the door, knowing it is there due to my normal organised behaviour. Switching it on, I aim the bright beam into the lounge, a gasp escaping me as I catch sight of the ghostly pale features of my sister sitting in a chair, mouth gagged, arms clearly tied behind her, her eyes wide and terrified.

Putting a finger to my lips as a gesture for her to remain quiet, I cautiously make my way into the room, looking around me as I do so, checking the surroundings as thoroughly as possible, though, in my haste, I forget the most important place. Deeming it clear, I go to my sister, dropping the stake as I place a hand on her cheek, tilting her face up towards me; checking her neck for the tell tale signs. Finding none, I let out a grateful sigh, before finally registering her fearful murmurs, my hand reaching for the stake at my feet, my pulse picking up a lot more as the gravity of my previous mistake sinks in. As I go to pick the short length of wood up, a heavy boot lands on my hand, holding the appendage in place, tension freezing my body in place as the lights suddenly switch on, revealing the intruders to me.

“Hello, (Y/n). We have a bone to pick with you.” A sinister voice sounds behind me, the source of it well known to me, though I’ve never heard it laced with so much anger before.

“David. What are you doing here?” I look over my shoulder at the blonde vampire, taking in his venomous look with confusion, my hand still pinned to the floor under his shoe. Behind him, Dwayne and Paul shoot me equally angered expressions, the vampires trying to hold back their more primal facial features with some success though their eyes flash yellow from time to time.

“I think you know full well the reason for our visit.” David hisses at me, pressing harder onto my hand, a cruel smirk making its way onto his handsome face at the wince that escapes me, despite my better judgement.

“I don't? Mind filling me in?” I retort, lifting an eyebrow as I keep eye contact with him, his own eyes narrowing in fury. He nods once to Paul and Dwayne, who instantly move over to me, grabbing hold of me and lifting me to my feet, pinning my hands behind my back and forcing me to keep my eyes trained in front of me as they back me away from my captive sister, who watches this in pure terror.

“What are you doing? What’s going on?” I protest, only just noticing something key, “Where’s Marko?”

At the mention of their friend's name, all three vampires tense up, a low growl leaving Dwayne's lips at my question.

“You tell me, (Y/n), you killed him.” David manages to keep his voice level, though I can tell he's barely keeping his rage in check, his words hitching a little.

Shock floods me, rendering me silent as I search for the appropriate words, well aware that I had nothing to do with Marko’s death.

“Wh....he's dead? How?” I eventually manage, looking to them for answers.

“You staked him, don’t you remember?” Paul growls in my ear, his fangs emerging to brush along the carotid artery in my neck, a warning shiver going through me at the sensation.

“How am I supposed to remember something I didn’t do?” I protest, regretting my words as Dwayne’s grip on my arm tightens, nails digging into the soft flesh, painfully, “I didn’t stake him.”

Giving me an acidic glare, David goes over to my sister, lifting a hand to cup her chin, tilting her head to the side, giving him easy access to her neck. At this, I become panicked, writhing in the other two vampires’ grip, pulling and fighting to get free, a grunt leaving me as they yank me back into place, holding me as still as possible.

“What are you doing? She’s done nothing, I’ve done nothing! Whatever happened to Marko, she has had no part in it, leave her alone! Please!” I plead their leader, embarrassment accompanying the panic coursing through my veins as I realise I’m begging him, my usually hard exterior cracking slightly.

“Why should you not feel the pain we do? Especially after breaking the rules of our agreement, which we've kept to as we are supposed to.” David snarls at me, his vampiric appearance threatening to distort his features as he leans closer to my sister, her confused terror palpable in the air, whimpers and cries of fear forcing themselves past the gag in her mouth

“I’ve never broken those rules before, so why should I do it now? You know, of all people, that I respect the agreement as much as you guys do. I’ve never let another vampire hunter stay on your turf, I've hunted any vampires that tried to stay around, I’ve never let anyone find out the truth, and I sure as hell would never kill any of you! What would I get out of doing something like that?” I point out to them, hoping they recall the time when I spent an entire night chasing some leather clad priest out of Santa Carla, the paranoid man having been particularly violent when he thought I was a vampire, trying to stake me and succeeding, thankfully missing any vital organs, though my resilience managed to scare him off in the end.

The room goes quiet as the vampires consider this, the only sound being my sister's soft noises of terror as she watches the exchange, her head still at an angle in David's grasp. Clenching his jaw, the blonde vampire releases her, stepping over to me so that he can look me directly in the eye, his rage still dangerously high, though it’s dampened now, his face more human than before.

“We need to discuss this. Alone.” He eventually bites out, nodding at Paul and Dwayne, who remove their hands from my body with a few indignant murmurs, allowing me to be passed into their leader's clutches, “You two stay here with her. If she tries anything, well, you know what to do.”

At his words, a pit of worry opens up in my stomach, my mind fighting my body as I am dragged from the room, barely registering Paul and Dwayne's smirks, both obviously happy about the outcome of this conversation so far. I go to protest, only to feel the grip on my arm tighten briefly, the vampire leading me obviously warning me to keep quiet as he takes me upstairs, easily able to navigate the dark with his enhanced vision, quickly pushing me into the nearest room, which just happens to be the spare bedroom. As we enter, he flicks on the light, standing opposite me with his hands in his pockets, waiting for me to say something.

“Why are we not talking about this downstairs?” I question after a moment, confused as to the vampire’s reasons.

“Because if it wasn’t you who staked Marko, then I have no idea who else it could be. Star and Laddie are also missing, so I’m out of leads.” He admits carefully, allowing himself to look me in the eye, showing me the raw grief behind them. As quickly as I see it, however, it is gone, the vampire swiftly setting his jaw again.

At the mention of Star, a pang of jealousy makes itself known in my chest but I quickly push it down, knowing he'll be able to hear my heart rate picking up if I don’t suppress my feelings. I let myself relax a little, confident that he won’t do anything to hurt me, and that he is genuinely curious and confused as to who tore their family apart.

“I can’t say I know. There have been no new vampire hunters in town for months, and I’ve made sure to keep an eye out for them, so it’s not another hunter, I don’t think.” I muse, frowning in concentration as I wrack my mind for a possible solution, “Unless...”

My voice trails off as I say the last part, one thought making its way into the forefront of my mind, but I don’t allow myself to think that, unwilling to believe it could be true. Unfortunately, David picks up on my hesitation, instantly moving closer to me, causing me to back up, my pulse raising as he corners me against the wall behind me, his body trapping me. Against my cheek, I can feel the icy air radiating off the vampire's body, his proximity also allowing me to catch the scent of his natural musk, the mixture of dust, blood, leather and motor oil clouding my sense as he leans in close.

“Unless?” He breathes against my skin, voice dropping an octave as he looks into my eyes, a smirk making its way onto his face briefly at the inadvertent hitch in my breath, my body reacting on its own.

“Unless you let someone else in on your secret.” I state, struggling to concentrate under his piercing gaze.

A line appears between his eyes as he considers this, a flash of understanding suddenly breaking out across his face, a snarl ripping from his lips at the thought.

“Michael.” He spits out, eyes flashing dangerously.

“Michael?” I inquire, trying to think back to the Michael he means.

“The new kid, Michael Emerson. We initiated him last night, but he refused to feed, so he still hasn’t turned. I know he and Star slept together, so it’s not unlikely for her to have run off with him.” David's voice is low once more, anger lacing his tone.

“Michael Emerson?” The name sets off alarm bells in my head, the surname familiar to me, “He have a brother?”

“Probably, I don’t exactly make a point of learning a person's family members.” The vampire responds impatiently.

“You did when we first met.” I point out quietly, looking down as he shoots me an odd look, a blush creeping onto my face at his next words.

“You’re different.”

Glancing up, I gasp as I find his face a lot closer to mine, my usually sharp instinctual knowledge of a person's movements completely off, his eyes staring straight into mine. Smirking he pulls away, putting a little space between us before the scowl is back, his anger and hurt returning swiftly.

“Anyway, I’m pretty sure Michael's younger brother has been hanging out with the Frog brothers in the comic shop, a lot more in the last day or so.” I manage to explain once I’ve regained my composure, adjusting my jacket around me once more.

“And this is important, why?” David growls, eager to avenge Marko’s demise, the blonde vampire twitching a bit.

“Well, the Frog brothers fancy themselves as vampire hunters. I taught them a lot of what they know, but I’ve made sure I never told them exactly what they need to know, and I’ve never drawn any attention to you guys. They were very persistent today, and they seemed stressed.” I inform him a little sheepishly, flinching as he stiffens, worry flooding my mind again, “They’re mostly completely harmless.”

“Not harmless enough.” David hisses, swiftly going to the door and opening it, striding down the stairs as fast as possible, shouting instructions at Paul and Dwayne.

“Where are you going?” I call put after him, tailing the vampire as he leaves the house, a grunt leaving my lips as Paul and Dwayne push past me harshly, knocking my shoulders.

“To settle a score.” Their leader responds, a smirk on his face, though I barely have time to acknowledge it before they’re taking to the skies, hellbent on revenge.

Speechless, I stand there for a second, my brain kicking me into action as I realise they are in big trouble, both the Emersons and the vampires – they’re both too stubborn in nature to give up. Instantly, I race into the house, where I grab the keys to my motorbike as well as a few vials of holy water, just in case, briefly going into the lounge to free my sister and reassure her. Minutes later, I’m on the back of my roaring motorbike, a grim expression on my face at the thought of the events of tonight, swiftly manoeuvring my way towards the Emerson's home.

A wind has picked up since I’ve been the house, the icy air rushing past me as I hurtle along the darkened road at nearly 100mph, my leather jacket barely protecting me against it, though I don’t notice it in any case. My mind is dead set on reaching my destination, though I know I am most likely too late to do anything to help, the vampire’s being inhumanely faster than me after all. Urgency gives me a reckless speed, an oncoming truck nearly sending me flying off the road as it almost hits me, a few birds and dogs in the surrounding landscape breaking into sound as I pass them, the interruptive engine exciting them. The odd pedestrian calls out at me as I thunder past, insults and words of irritation lost in the wind, their meaning falling on deaf ears as I ignore every person I come across, until I reach the road leading to the familiar house a little way away from the rest. Determined, I turn down it and ramp up the speed, blinking away tears that have formed in my eyes from the barrage of air, the salty liquid momentarily blurring my vision.

Soon enough, the Emerson home comes into view, prompting me to cut the speed abruptly, skidding as the motorbike struggles to grip the dusty surface below it. As soon as it comes to a halt, I jump off of it, racing up the driveway to the house, barely noticing the gate as I vault over it, thankful now that I took time to train myself in this kind of agility, my pace not faltering for a second until I reach the front door, where I slow down enough to take in my surroundings.

The room is bathed in a crimson light, the source unimportant for the minute, revealing the dark shadows of several pieces of dislodged furniture, a table laden with stakes near the middle, a mangled body lying a little way away from it. Gulping, I go over to it with caution, half expecting someone to attack me, though it is eerily quiet in this area of the house, the only sound being a few static sparks from the smoking stereo above the corpse.

My eyes widen as I recognise the mutilated vampire, concern and shock flooding me at the realisation; Dwayne. Going nearer, I look over the debris around him, deducting his fate very quickly, though it surprises me greatly that a bunch of kids would do something like this. But then again, it is the Frog brothers.

All of a sudden, I feel something connect with my shoulder; the force of the impact throwing me a good few feet to the left, a dull ache starting in the inflicted area as I collide, violently, with the floor. Groaning, I look up, only now hearing the snarls and rasping voices of two vampires, the ominous shape of the two of them hanging from a doorframe a couple of metres away catching my attention. One of them I recognise to be David, the blonde growling into the face of another, who I assume to be Michael, both of them so locked up in each other that they haven't noticed my presence behind them, both pairs of yellow eyes focused solely on each other.

Scrambling to my feet, I force my legs to carry me over to them, grabbing hold of David's back in an attempt to pull them apart, though I know full well that I am far too weak to be successful by force alone. A few words leave my lips, useless pleas falling on deaf ears as they continue to fight, verbally, with each other.

“Join us, Michael!” The familiar yet slightly distorted tone of David interrupts me, the vampire's tense muscles bunching underneath me as if ready to move again.

“Never!” The brunette rejects the offer, most likely not for the first time, drawing a frustrated growl from the blonde.

“My blood runs in your veins!” David points out, his smirk almost audible in his words.

“So does mine!” Michael growls one last time, before I suddenly feel our bodies being turned and forced towards something invisible to me, the shock and confusion briefly flaring in my mind until two searing points of agony burst into existence in my abdomen. A strangled scream escapes my lips at the sensation, blood pushing its way past my lips with every faltering breath, my eyes swiftly finding the two horns of sorts protruding from my body, the two vampires staring at me from behind them. In my rapidly deteriorating state, I recognise David's features becoming human again as he rushes to my side, panic and horror lacing his voice, shock clouding his gaze.

“(Y/n)?! What the hell?! This can’t be happening...I can’t lose everyone!” He rambles, the usually composed vampire scrambling for sanity now that he's faced with a situation he can't control. Gasping, I try to lift a hand, intending to wipe away the tear rolling down his cheek, only to let out a whimper of pain when the movement jars the wounds in my stomach. Eyes widening, David seems to make a split second decision, swiftly apologising as he reaches underneath me to grasp my body in his hands, pulling me off the horns abruptly, pulling me into his chest as I scream in pure agony. In seconds, I feel the cool night air on my face again, my hands clutching at David's jacket desperately when he leaps off the ground, taking to the sky in order to escape the residents of the Emerson household, holding me tightly to him, whispering despairing reassurances into my ear.

My vision starts to cloud slightly, the pain in my abdomen almost too much for me to bear, my mind becoming hazy, though I try my best to stay awake for his sake, knowing it will ruin him if I pass in his arms. Small whimpers leave me every now and then, each time drawing the attention of the panicking blonde vampire, his grip steadily tightening around me as he quickens his pace, the wind turning icy as it rushes around us.

Eventually, after what feels like hours, we enter what looks to be the cave they reside in, though I’ve only been in it once and so don't remember too well what the interior looks like. A soft surface appears below me as his arms leave me, though they don’t quite retreat fully, his large hands tilting my head to him as he tries to hold eye contact with me, failing when the hurt in them becomes too much for him to handle.

“God, I’m so sorry, (Y/n), I never realised you were there! This should never have happened, I got lazy and arrogant...and now they’re all dead!” At his own words, David breaks down, sobs leaving the normally intimidating vampire as tears flow freely down his cheeks, “God, they're all dead! And now I’m gonna lose you too!”

Upon hearing how broken he is, I say the only thing that comes to mind, my decision made up, even if it goes against my every rule, hoping to hell I can console him.

“T...turn...me...” My voice is hoarse and strangled from the blood still oozing out from between my lips, but I know he’ll hear me.

Sure enough, the blonde stiffens, his eyes fixing on me in surprise.

“What did you say?” He questions, tone laced with disbelief.

“Turn...me...” I repeat, lifting a hand to place it on his, weakly rubbing his frigid skin under the digit, reassuring him.

“Are you...are you sure?” For once, David looks genuinely caught off guard and unsure of himself, the moment of weakness a new idea for me to wrap my head around, though I know I will never bring it up again around him, should I survive this. Another wave of pain forces the deciding words from me, my voice strained.

“Yes, I can’t leave you alone. Not now, not ever.”

Seeing the seriousness in what I’m saying, as well as the truth, David carefully moves himself into the bed with me, cradling me against him as he uses a fingernail to slice into his wrist, lifting the bleeding appendage to my face. Pressing my lips against his pale akin, I don’t allow myself time to rethink my choices, sucking and licking at the wound feebly at first, until my strength picks up, the healing properties in his blood starting to re-energise me. A sigh escapes his lips above me, his other hand holding me tighter to his body, his grief momentarily forgotten by the joy at having me finally submit to him after all these years, the sensation of my lips on his arm reawakening a feeling he hasn’t felt in years.

Finally, I pull away, my head falling back onto his chest, my eyes rolling upwards to look into his, relief filling me as the pain subsides a bit, not quite leaving completely. Smiling down at me, David lifts one hand, which is covered in my blood, to his mouth, where he makes a show of licking each digit clean, moaning slightly at the taste. Blushing, I can only watch as he enjoys himself, allowing himself a little respite after everything that’s happened.

“Thank you, (Y/n).” He hums to me, genuinely grateful that I’ve decided to join him, glad that he won’t have to deal with his pain alone.

“Of course. No one should be alone. Especially not someone as lost as you.” I say to him, rolling over with some difficulty to rest my chin on his chest, staring up at him in sympathy.

A shocked look crosses over his face at my words, clearly unused to being shown genuine affection, his expression giving me the impression that he’s having some sort of internal conflict. It takes him a few minutes, but eventually he seems to make up his mind, using one hand to gently cup my chin and pull me closer to him, our faces centimetres apart. In my chest, my heartbeat picks up, butterflies forming under my skin as our lips brush, before he suddenly presses them together in a soft kiss. Surprised, I freeze for a second, only to kiss back as gladly as he does, joy blanking out the dull pain in my abdomen as our lips move together, his hand moving from my chin into my hair, pulling me closer until I run out of air, at which point we have to part.

“You have no idea how long I’ve waited to do that.” David whispers to me, caressing my back with his other hand, a smile gracing his lips once more.

“I could say the same thing.” I respond, giggling a little, until a yawn interrupts me, my exhaustion finally catching up with me. My eyelids start to droop, my body comfortable against David's chest, despite the icy temperature, him clearly as happy to have me there as I am to be there.

“I'll help you complete the transition tonorrow, but for now, sleep well, (Y/n).” He says to me as I drift off, voice soft and gentle in my ears, lulling me to sleep.