#see the wayward kids au

[ima-ghost-art]

Having some ideas for a "10 years later" valzhang kid fic (featuring trans leo & other fun hcs)

Where a couple years after Leo and Calypso split (early 20s at this point) Athena goes and works with leo in his shop for a few months before giving him a daughter, because she believes that he is one of the smartest minds of his generation (I just KNOW Athena heard all of Leo's plans through out Hoo when he would talk to himself around the Athena Parthenos, and was impressed with his (honestly incredibly smart) strategy to succeed at doing 2 things no human nor god had ever done, then succeeded with both plans all while remaking a metal dragon all in secret, plus Annabeth loves her friend alot so that's a bonus)

(This will be long so more after the cut)

So now, at like 23, Leo is the father of a beautiful baby girl named Sophina Esperanza Piper Valdez, and he loves it, he really does! Although he was terrified to ever be a parent, and this certainly wasnt how he planned to ever have kids, he loves his daughter more than anything and is determined to not have her experience anything he had too, and because shes a greek demigod he knows she will taken care of by the camp.

PLUS the seven ADORE Sophina!!

Piper loves her god daughter, and she and leo love to tell her all about Jason knowing he would have loved her so much too! Although it's weird in the beginning, Annabeth really loves and cares for her little sister, but much prefers to be seen as her aunt, (percy is definitely the cool uncle and loves to babysit Sophina along with looking after his own kids)! Hazel couldnt have been more excited to have a neice, just like leo she cant help but see so much of sammy Sophina!

And Frank? He adores Sophina too, he loves seeing Leo excel at being a dad, and he finds it hilarious at how devious this little girl is, how the combo of incredible building/ strategic mind from her godly heritage plus that insane intelligents from her father alone made the now 3 year old an adorable MENACE!!

No normal kiddie pen could ever keep this child contained! And frank would know, he offered to babysit more often than not, whenever he wasnt doing his praetor duties, he was looking after Sophina. And when he wasnt doing that he was often having her and leo over for dinner or lunch.

So much had changed since they where 15/16, living on a flying boat trying to save the world, it had been an entire decade even. And sure they were only mid 20s but that's practically middle age with a demigods track record. Leo and Frank went from hating eachothers guts to having a weird bond, formed of complete and utter trust in the other, while never quite getting rid of their petty bickering, tho this time on far more friendlier jokeing terms, (loving bullying piper called it) plus it helped they admired eachother and their abilities greatly. And now as they were both freshly single, welp dam it sometimes feelings just sorta surprise ya!

Frank and Hazel split the year before Sophina was created, both realising they had different ideas for their futures, and in the aftermath they became even closer friends, so when Frank started realising just how long he had been harbouring feelings for leo, well Hazel was the first one to say she both knew it, and to become his ultimate wing woman.

Leo, who has been single since 19, and hasnt thought about dating again properly since after having his daughter, suddenly having years old feelings from the argo2 reserface after frank starts helping him out more with his little girl, feeling like a percy out of water when he thinks about wanting to get back into dating again, especially when dating involves one of his best friends...

Buttttttt :) when you have the favour of both the godess of love and the godess of marriage and family on your side (abit reluctantly on your end) things end up going great!! Everyone was surprised it hadnt happened sooner and well, it's been going smooth for the last few months at least! Plus Sophina absoulutly loves having Frank around more!!

That is until 6 months later, 3 months before Sophinas 4th birthday, Frank is called away for a quest with his legion, which isnt uncommon, but it's the first one since the two became official, so Leo wont lie if hes a little bit more stressed than usual.

It doesnt help no one has heard from Frank and his quest group in over a week... nor the fact not either of the camps or even the hunters could find them... and definitely no the fact that Leo's cycle is late and has been throwing up for the last few days...

So when Annabeth comes over to help with a project while Percy takes care of Sophina for the day, the first thing she does is tell him to take a pregnancy test or have them call Will, even tho Leo is adamant its probably just a stomach bug.

Of course, 3 positive tests, 2 breakdowns in the arms of Annie, Piper and Hazel, and 1 check up from Will, Leo discovers hes around 6 weeks pregnant and the other father could only be Frank and he is still MIA!!!

Not only that, but Leo, after the war, becoming a double amputee, still grieving Jason with so much regret, and a now no longer single father of an amazing little girl, he was now facing becomg a father AGAIN only this time hes going to actually carry his own child, unlike the first time. Leo was trans, he always knew that if he ever in the place to have a child, he would have to carry them, and at the time he mostly only dated women anyway! But when Athena came along and gave him Sophina, well that was the perfect out to all that. Until now...

Leo doesn't know what to do, he cant make any decisions about the baby without Frank, and by now it's going on 2 weeks without any word. Hazel has been staying with him and Sophina when she hasnt been out doing search missions with Arion, the two have been sharing the stress.

Its week 2 and a half, 4 weeks from when the original quest started, when the questing group finally returns, found by Rayna and Hazel, mostly badly injured and being carried by Frank who had transformed himself into (all be it a very hurt) Elphant.

According to what they said the group had somehow fallen into some of the uncollapsed tunnels of the labyrinth which messed with people being able to find them.

But that doesnt matter, Frank is back and Leo is a flood of emotions because he just spent the last 3 weeks worrying if the guy he was inlove with was dead or dying, and the last week and a half thinking he was going to be a single dad AGAIN

But Frank, big dumb lovable Frank, is here, hes alive, and as he returns from the elephant to normal with the kindest most apologetic smile as he walks over to Leo before being directed to the med tent. He holds Leo close as he says hes sorry for disappearing over and over again.

So of course Leo, in all his blazing adhd glory, not exactly chooses, more word vomits the thing that he had been desperate to tell Frank since he first found out.

So in sitcom style dramatics the moment frank hears the words "I'm pregnant" from Leo's mouth he immediately passes out.

Que some shenanigans, but it ends with Frank being so excited, he already loved Leo, (not that either had said it out loud yet), he would be thrilled to have Sophina as his step daughter, and to to be an actual dad himself, for them to have a child and give Sophina a little sibling?? For them to be a weird chaotic family (oh gods they're going to be a family, they're going to need to find a bigger place to live all together, would Leo even want to move to New Rome? Wait would Leo want to even move in with HIM?? Panic for another time)

It becomes a hectic next 9 months, the Valdez - Zhang family has a new family home at the edge of New Rome, Sophina has never been more excited finding out she was going to be a big sister (being told the week before her 4th bday) (she had a party thrown by the Athena & Haphaestus kids at CHB) and happily helps her dads prepare. The 7 are thrilled for the new addition to their found family (my hc this would be the 4th kid from the group)

And finally they eventually wecome Ellie Jace Valdez - Zhang, Greek/Roman legacy of Haphaestus, Mars & Poseidon, future fighter extraordinar who eventually inherits the Zhang shapshifting, also inherited her fathers firewood

[carolperkinsexgirlfriend]

Steddie Upside-down AU Part 17

Part 1 Part 16

Let it be known that Eddie Munson is not a morning person, presuming it’s morning at all. And with the bags under Will and Steve’s eyes, Eddie’s doubtful. He doesn’t look in the mirror to check his own. If King Steve Harrington looks this ragged even with his genetic lottery, Eddie doesn’t want to know what he looks like.

He wants to brush his teeth, but when he opened the toothpaste, it was a rusty-looking brown color. He wants a shower, but none of the pipes work, and their quarry water is a precious commodity. Hell, he wants a hot cup of coffee, and he doesn’t even like coffee.

It'd probably turn to acid once it hit his gut, though. Hunger’s gnawing at him in a way it hasn’t for years. When the fridge would be empty for days. When he wished for school days, so he could take his little blue slip up to the lunch line and get a meal for free, never mind that all the other kids gave him a wide berth for it.

It's messing with his head to have that same, gnawing feeling in this place where Wayne makes breakfast in the mornings after he gets off a shift. Where there’s always food in the fridge, no matter how lean money is. Where someone cares enough to stock it.

So, no. Eddie Munson is not a morning person, and he’s going to strangle Steve Harrington if he keeps corralling Eddie like a wayward child as they pack up their supplies for the trek to Mama Byers’s house.

“Just help me sort the first aid supplies, and then we’ll be done,” Steve says, riffling through their stolen loot where he’s strewn it out across the kitchen counter.

Eddie groans, pinching the bridge of his nose, letting the weight of his elbow settle into Steve’s shoulder. Regrettably, it’s the bad one.

“Ow, fuck,” he groans, shrugging out from beneath Eddie’s arm.

“Shit, sorry big boy,” Eddie says, fluttering his fingers toward Steve’s injured shoulder like he can magic it all better.

“Are you hurt?” Will asks quietly from where he’s once again hovering at the threshold.

They both jump, trading guilty looks at the omission caught so quickly. “Just a scratch on my shoulder,” Steve replies, like a liar.

Will nods but doesn’t seem to believe them. The kid’s clearly too smart for his own good.

“Should we go?” Eddie asks brightly, clapping his hands like he’s a camp counselor leading a nature expedition and not corralling a middle schooler and a peer he still totally hates, he swears, out into a hellscape.

Steve rolls his eyes, but dutifully swipes it all back into his pack after a cursory look.

Steve and Will follow him out of the trailer like ducklings, Eddie in the lead, and Steve maintaining the rear, keeping Will sandwiched in the middle in silent agreement.

They keep quiet. Eddie’s eyes skitter wildly about, and when he glances back, Steve is clutching the shotgun tightly. Clearly, he’s not the only one more on edge with a kid to keep alive now. In contrast, Will looks excited.

Eddie doesn’t know which is worse, that the kid trusts them that much to keep him safe, or that he’s so excited to talk to Mama Byers that he’s not fussed about the rest of it.

Eddie remembers the general direction of the Byers’ house. It’s a small town – there’s only so many places for people to live, but he still has to ask Will for directions a few times. Will tells him where to turn, both speaking quietly enough that Harrington only twitches a little in alarm from behind them.

Only once does Steve stop, the sound of him raising the shotgun the only indication Eddie receives that he’s stopped at all. His heart kicks up as he whirls around to see Steve standing, gun trained into the woods, like fucking always. It takes endless moments before Steve lowers his gun again, waving them along.

No one talks after that. Eddie looks at Will, and Will points. It works well enough.

The Byers house is a single level, short and small, but it’s got a front porch with chairs on it, and laundry on a clothesline. It would look homey without vines. And the sky. And the ash. And the everything about this place.

Still, they file through the unlocked front door. Eddie can almost feel the smack Uncle Wayne would land on his head for going into someone else’s house first, uninvited, but there’s no way he’s letting Will go first into a place the Demogorgon had been less than twenty-four hours before.

It's silent inside. Will pushes past him, rushing into the house and taking a left. Eddie and Steve follow, Steve still clutching the gun. They find him in a small, outdated kitchen. He’s picked up the phone.

“Mom?” he says. His voice breaks, and Eddie wants to grab him and hide him in Steve’s closet for the rest of the day. “Mom?”

They stand in silence for a minute, ears straining for the smallest sound. “Anything?” Steve asks, brow furrowed.

Will doesn’t answer, just presses the phone to his ear harder. “Mom?” His voice sounds wet. Eddie’s going to fucking murder Joyce Byers. “Mom, please.”

“Maybe we can try in a few minutes?” Eddie asks, reaching out to squeeze his shoulder.

Will puts the phone back into the receiver like it weighs a thousand pounds. “What if the Demogorgon got her?”

Scratch the murder threats, Munson. “She’s probably just out,” he says.

Will finally turns around, slowly. Reluctantly. His face is streaked with tears already. Eddie doesn’t fight the urge to wipe them off. His hands leave grimy streaks though, so he switches to the sleeve of his shirt.

Behind him, Steve is pacing down the hall, muttering quietly under his breath. He’s not concerned until the movement abruptly stops.

“Steve?” Eddie calls, still cradling Will’s face.

His steps start again, slow, and purposeful. “Come see this,” he says. He doesn’t sound scared. Shocked, maybe even awed, but not scared.

Eddie pats Will’s cheek before turning and making his way out of the kitchen. Steve Harrington is haloed in light. It’s white, and fluttering, and following every step he takes. He looks like a fallen angel – bloody and grimy, but heavenly still.

Eddie almost asks, “are you an angel?” because if there are monsters, then why not something good? But he doesn’t. Because as soon as he steps past the threshold, there’s a light above him. Holy. Beautiful.

“What is this?” Eddie asks.

“I don’t know,” Steve says, smiling up at the light hanging over him. Steve Harrington is entranced by the lights and Eddie Munson can’t take his eyes off him.

Will steps beside him, and lets out a little, “oh.” When Eddie glances his way, he’s not looking at the lights either. Eddie can’t blame him.

“Do you think it’s dangerous?” Steve asks, still too focused on the beauty of it to sound worried.

“It’s just—” Will starts. But he’s interrupted.

The voice sounds distorted, but not like the Demogorgon’s. It’s more like the sound is coming from far away. Like Nancy Wheeler’s voice. Like her friend’s.

“Will?” it calls. “Will, are you here?”

Well, looks like it’s time to meet Mama Byers. Eddie can’t wait.

Part 18

[a-roguish-gambit]

Behold, the Brotherhood of Mutants for my turn of the century au!

You can tell I had the most fun with pietro and wanda’s designs. They are based more on upperclass wear of the time. Sadly, there was no punk going on, but you can see that in rebellion Wanda has bobbed her hair, which was incredibly controversial before the year 1920.

I based the outfits of the brotherhood boys on some different working class designs. Lance has some factory gear to help protect him from his own power. You have probably noticed that they don’t really have super suits or armor at this point in time that’s because a lot of it has not been invented yet or is almost exclusively used by military. Spandex will not be a thing for a couple more decades, and most non natural fibers right now are dangerously flammable, so they are mostly wearing clothing that suits them rather than super suits. also, you will notice that yes some of the characters have visible injuries, especially todd. They grew up in the 1900s which was an especially difficult time to be an orphaned child. This is part why they all end up being willing to stay with mystique and Irene, who have set up a “shelter for wayward boys” which in actuality is a way for them to train children for magneto (will design him later having trouble figuring out how to incorporate his helmet lol). It’s free room and board with food so they don’t have to worry about any exploitative jobs at this point in time. And all they have to do is go on missions for her which is somehow significantly safer than an up to code factory floor. being former Street kids, or in Fred’s case, a former sideshow act, they have already been a bit embittered to the world, especially to the X-Men kids who they see as highly privileged, even though several of them came from similar backgrounds of poverty, struggle, and familial loss, someone was just willing to reach out a hand to them before mystique.

Both Irene and mystique are faking being widows, living together in part of a way to claim the estate as their own, but also as an excuse to hide their relationship. The brotherhood kids could honestly care less about this thankfully because they’re loyal if you feed them, and they’ll never leave because well they need the food…mystique is not sure if that last part is good or not but its comforting to know their secret is safe with these kids. Shes still not a great caretaker for them but at least they have a roof over their head, fresh clothing, and 3 square meals a day, which is more than what they had.

[gffa]

honestly the idea of the Force not just making Anakin in retaliation to Sheev but also continuing to look out for him AGAINST Sheev for the whole series is a REALLY FUNNY AU concept and I am SO glad I learned about this book today so I can think of the Force going "Swiper no swiping!" to Sheev for several decades.

Just the THOUGHT of the Force trying SO HARD to keep its wayward son in line and being utterly exasperated at how Anakin keeps going back to Sheev is cracking me up. The Force sets up an ENTIRE IMPOSSIBLE TRIP TO A FORCE PLANET (Mortis) AND HAS HIM MEET BASICALLY FORCE LORDS to try to make him confront his guilt and fear, it drags them all to a place where even Qui-Gon is there (who Anakin often idealizes!!! so he should listen to him, right!?!?) and says, "Please, by the fucking stars, you need to do some self-reflection, kid." And Anakin's still like MMMMMM NO.

"Please, kiddo, he's bad for you, don't listen to Palpatine, I'm just trying to look out for you." Anakin:

"I'm telling Sheev you said he was a bad influence!" No wonder the Force was so darkened the Jedi couldn't see shit during the Clone Wars, it was dealing with the galaxy's worst ever teenage child in the middle of his rebellious "YOU CAN'T STOP ME FROM SEEING HIM, DAD!" phase ever.

[heygerald]

Falling Without A Harness - Chapter 9

AU where Tom Ryder is still an asshole, just not a psychotic one. When Parker joins Colt on set, things between the siblings gets argumentative. How hard will she try to convince everyone of something only she seems to see?

Read the story here: prev / next

Parker was dying.

Well, no, not really, but she was pretty sure that dying on the inside was the same kind of misery as dying on the outside—something Colt would wholeheartedly disagree with, but, whatever, he wasn't around to dispute such a wild claim—and as she failed at yet another attempt, she quite literally could feel her sanity evaporating like water on a hot summer day. It was ridiculous that the instructions were only five steps; even more ridiculous that there were high school art students who could do this with their eyes closed while gabbing about what the prettiest Met Gala dress of the year was and contemplating what the next Suzanne Collins' book would be.

"I think she should write more prequel books," said high school art student was blabbering on from the other side of the shelf, and while Parker's eyes went crossed and frustration welled like a heavy weight on her chest, Melissa didn't seem to notice as her train of thought continued on a cross-continental journey. "I mean, don't get me wrong, I will always love Katniss and Peeta's story, and hearing about their kids would be interesting, but there are seventy some years of Games that we haven't even heard about yet. That's so much material for her to write about!"

Parker glanced at the mess lying at her feet; tape and paint and abused shelf liner was sprawled around her as if a bomb had just gone off, and while Melissa continued on her fifth monologue of the hour, Parker almost wished one would.

"—did you see it? It was so good. Tom Blythe has to be my new celebrity crush. Right behind Tom Ryder, of course, but above Tyler Poser. Nothing against him personally, he just hasn't really done anything since Teen Wolf, you know? And—"

She was pretty sure black spots were dotting her vision, and when she attempted for a sixth time to smooth the bubbles out of her liner, Parker swore her head was going to implode.

How did one talk so much?

And more importantly—

"Jesus Christ!" she cried above the din of chatter. Melissa's voice cut off at the exclamation, but as she crossed one arm over the other—ruler clattering to the ground in frustration—the radio continued to play a steady stream of Taylor Swift and Katy Perry. "I'm so confused!"

A steady silence came from the adjacent aisle for half a moment.

"You... don't get the Hunger Games prequel? I thought you read it."

"Oh my fu—" she started, before cutting herself off. Melissa had gotten on her last week about having such foul language, and while Parker really didn't care about being a bad influence on the next generation, she did care about the stupid little jar sitting on the front counter that had collected half of her weekly coffee allowance in just three days. Pinching her nose, she swerved, "fudge, I don't get how you're doing this. I really don't."

"Doing—?"

"Not Suzzanne Collins," she snapped before Melissa could even go down that particular road. Honestly, the girl never stopped talking. "I understand that. I read those books before you were even born, kid."

"Okay, I'm not that young, and you're not old enough to be calling me kid," her voice floated above the shelves; judgmental and scornful all in one.

Parker pinched the bridge of her nose, only for some wayward tape to get stuck to her cheek, and as she ripped it off her skin with a groan, she considered sinking onto the cold floor for a nap.

Said floor was a mess of art supplies, however, and so she elected to tap her foot in an impatient staccato on the ground. Knowing there was only one thing left to do, Parker swallowed whatever pride still existed after this little art project. "...I don't understand how to put on the shelf liners," she admitted. "It doesn't make any sense, and I'm wasting material, and I'm—I'm going to set this place on fire if I have to keep doing this!"

A tut followed by Birkenstocks on hard wood before Melissa was popping around her side of the shelves. She looked too cute to be doing something misery-inducing like this—bubble braids over each shoulder, mascara and glittery white eyeshadow to balance out the glow of highlighter on her cheeks and nose, lips a soft bubblegum pink to compliment the pale color of her sweater—and Parker added it to the list of things that her employee did to annoy the shit out of her.

Teenagers were supposed to be pimply and awkward; when did the next generation start skipping that phase to jump right into cute outfits like that?

"What are you—?" she started, only to zero in on the absolute disaster that was Parker's attempts at interior design. The shelf liner was warbled and misshapen, cut too short on one side and too long on the other, and at her feet half a yard of wasted material lay sprawled. "Parker! Do you have any idea how expensive this stuff is?"

Parker blinked at her. "Do I—? Of course I do! I was the one that bought it in the first place!" she snarked incredulously.

"Then why are you wasting it?"

"Well—because—I'm not doing it on purpose!" she blustered.

Melissa clearly didn't seem to believe that if her raised brow was anything to go by. As if Parker had woken up that morning with the single goal in mind of making this process as difficult and expensive as possible.

Yeah, right.

Parker hadn't been stealing eggs and bread from her brother's when she visited just for the thrill of the grift.

"The instructions don't make any sense," she continued to defend herself; though, the fact that she needed to in the first place was ridiculous. It was her shop, afterall, and she was the owner. Oh, right. She was the owner. "I knew we shouldn't have done this. The paint and decorations look good enough. Why, oh why, did I let you talk me into doing shelf liners too? You know the books are just going to cover the pattern, right? No one will see them."

That seemed to upset Melissa, and in response, the teenager's entire face contorted into something righteous.

"Firstly," she said, flinging up a electric blue nail, "everyone will see them. The books are only so big, so the liner is still visible even when the shelf is full, and when people take books off the shelf it adds character to the store. And secondly," she continued, ticking another finger up into the air, "I've already finished three whole shelves in the time it's taken you to do half of one. Improperly, too. It's not impossible. You're just bad at it."

"Ugh!" Parker's mouth fell open. "Excuse me. I'm not bad at it."

"Could'a fooled me."

"You know," she snarked while planting her hands firmly onto her hips. Melissa didn't seem intimidated one bit, and she watched as the teenager gently pulled up her crumpled liner. "You're lucky I'm your boss because someone else might fire you for sass like that."

Melissa shot her a blithe look while dropping the ruined liner to the ground. Within seconds, she cut a new piece—perfectly sized—and calmly started lying it down. "Okay, sure, Park. Whatever you say."

"I could!"

"Uh-huh," the girl said again, clearly not buying into the power play for a second. Parker might have taken more offense to that if, well, Melissa wasn't right. She never had an employee before, but Parker didn't handle workplace confrontations well, and she couldn't imagine ever firing anyone. Let alone her best customer.

Still. She could at least pretend to be intimidated.

Before Parker could argue that point, Melissa stepped back from the shelf with a flourish to reveal a perfectly placed, smooth and colorful liner.

"Son of a..." Parker muttered at how easy she had made it look. Not to mention the fact that it did look really good. She could already picture how much character it would add once the shelves were re-stocked with their books. "How did you—?"

"It's honestly so easy. Like, I'm embarrassed for you."

And—yeah.

Parker was definitely dying.

"I liked you better when you only came in once a week," she announced, dropping the wasted paper into the trash bag. "You were a lot nicer then, at least. And you already gave me money instead of costing me heaps of it."

Unbothered, the teen popped her bubblegum with a shrug. "You were a lot cooler then, too."

"What—?" she cried, tracking around the shelf in Melissa's wake. The teenager seemed pretty pleased with herself, and as she giggled into her hand, Parker propped her shoulder against the wall with a glower. "Oh. Hardy-har-har. Hilarious. Let's all pick on Parker; that seems like a fun way to spend the day. How about this? You can finish this little project yourself since it was your idea in the first place."

That managed to wipe the smirk off of her face, and Melissa responded by stomping her foot. "This place is huge! There's no way I can finish this on my own."

"Please," Parker rolled her eyes, not buying that for a moment. "You've done six times as much as me in an hour, and better too. It's like you said—I suck at this."

"I didn't say you suck."

"Bad, suck, they're all the same insult. Are you regretting the sass now?"

Melissa scowled. "Fine. But I want to re-negotiate my salary."

That wiped whatever smug look Parker was wearing off her face in seconds, and as if this was a game of tug-o-war, the smugness transferred back to Melissa in the following seconds. So smug, in fact, that she started humming to herself as she set to work on the next line of shelves.

Shaking her head, Parker couldn't do anything but laugh. "Fat chance of that! You're already robbing me blind with the stupid swear jar. Besides, this whole thing was your idea; you wanted the job, and now you got the job. You don't get to re-negotiate your hourly pay when you've barely been here a month. That's not how employee contracts work."

"America as a late stage capitalistic society is failing and is not what you should be basing a business model on, but if that's how you want to play it, fine. This is a supply and demand market. There's nothing to say I can't negotiate my salary when my needs as an employee go up. Your demand has changed, ergo my supply for you has changed," she chirped, and not for the first time, Parker was wondering when teenagers became so socially aware. When she was Melissa's age, she babysat for five bucks an hour, and most of that was just spent making sure the kids didn't swallow their Gumby doll. Needs of an employee her ass. "Besides, we agreed on that salary when I thought I would have help doing the manual labor."

"You're awfully smart for someone that didn't read the fine print."

Melissa paused in her work to cross one arm over the other. And—fuck—how was she being intimidated by someone wearing a best friends forever necklace?

Saved by the tinkle of the front door bell, Parker broke off their stare down to give the girl a flippant gesture that would definitely not hold up in court as any sort of agreement, before moving towards the front. She didn't even care that they were closed, a customer was more than welcome at the moment. Even a neighborhood cat would do.

Melissa trailed after.

"All I'm saying is—" she started.

"Ah, ah, ah. No money talk in front of customers. It's totally kitsch," Parker chirped over her shoulder.

"It's Sunday. We shouldn't even have customers. Can't we just tell them to leave?"

"And they say good customer service is dead," said customer drawled from the front counter as he pilfered through her bowl of mints. Several clattered to the floor as he tried to dig out his favorite flavor, and with a wince, Parker watched him not-so-subtly nudged them under the counter with his shoe as if it hadn't happened at all. "Er, those were already down there when I got here."

"Ass," she rolled her eyes, bending over to scoop the mints up before mice decided to add themselves onto the list of things she had to deal with. She was already stuck between two pestering leeches, a third infestation was not ideal.

Before Melissa could complain, Parker stuck a dollar into the swear jar.

"Whatever. Tom, we were just—" Melissa pushed past Parker with an exuberance that had been lacking moments before. It deflated the moment she got a better look at him, however, and the girl's grin slipped into a sour frown. She crossed one arm over the other to peer suspiciously at the blonde. "Wait, you're not Tom."

Colt experienced a variety of emotions in a single second, and Parker couldn't help but laugh when he let out an offended squeak.

"What—how does she know Tom?" he hissed.

Parker dumped the fallen mints back into the bowl with a shrug. "He's stopped by before. She's a huge fan. Number one, apparently. She's seen all his stuff."

"Twice," Melissa added.

Parker pointed at her. "Twice," she reiterated, just knowing that it would piss Colt off.

Just as expected, he responded by rolling his eyes with a second, high-pitched groan. It sounded like he was in pain. "You're a fan of Ryder? Seriously?"

Melissa squared her shoulders at him. "Seriously."

"You do know that he wears a wig, right?"

She huffed. "No, he doesn't."

"Uh, yes he does."

"Does not."

"Does too."

"Does—"

"Okay, that's enough of that," Parker interjected with a groan of her own. What had started off as an amusing blow to her brother's ego was quickly turning into a headache. "Melissa, don't bully him. He has a sensitive ego."

Colt threw his arms up—bowl of mints scattering everywhere—to cry, "Parker! That's not—I don't—who even is this?"

"Who am I? I work here. Who are you?" she shot back, bright eyes narrowed into slits. Parker could imagine her in high-school now, scaring off boys left and right, and if her brother didn't have the mental maturity of a middle schooler, she might have let them argue a little bit longer.

Alas. Colt's weakness was women, and she didn't fancy giving him chest compressions when he inevitably choked on his pride.

"Melissa," she gestured, "this is my brother, Colt. He's a professional stuntman, and has been Tom Ryder's stuntdouble for years. That how I met him in the first place. Colt, this is my new employee, who also happens to be a teenage girl, Melissa."

In unison, the pair gave cagey hmphs.

"Nice to meet you or whatever," Colt sniffed.

"Yeah," she responded with a blithe look. "Totally."

Parker glanced between the pair; both had matching postures, arms crossed, arms averted, neither wanting to acknowledge the other, and she pinched the bridge of her nose with a heavy sigh. Although, to be fair, only one of the two was an actual adult. Despite how Melissa might carry herself from time to time.

Remembering this, she steered the conversation back to more important things. "If I step out for lunch with Colt, do you think you can finish the shelf liners? You can invite one or two friends to hang out. If they help, I suppose I can pay them too."

Pettiness forgotten, Melissa gave Parker a wide-eyed look. "Really?"

"Flat rate. Fifty for the day, a max of two friends. Just no posting on instagram or snapchat or—you know—anything else. I don't need social media being my downfall before I even get started."

"Oh my god, you're so old, Parker. Who would even want to cancel you?" Melissa laughed over her shoulder before disappearing towards the back. Her cell phone was already dialing, and by the time she started pasting on liners, her friends were already on their way.

With that taken care of, Parker blinked over at her brother.

"Yes."

Colt, having replaced whatever book he was pretending to read, furrowed his brows at her. "Yes, what?"

"Whatever you're going to suggest we do, yes, please take me away from here before I commit a craft-themed crime."

"Is that a crime?"

"A violent one."

He clicked his tongue, tossing another mint into his mouth with a curious side-eye across the counter. "Maybe I just wanted to stop in and see how things were looking. You were talking about it at the party so much I figured I'd have to see it eventually."

That was a lame excuse and they both knew it. Colt may have been her biggest cheerleader, but her brother didn't know the difference between paint and lacquer. Not to mention that he was red-green colorblind, and would certainly have a hard time noticing any change in paint around them.

"Coooolllltttttt," she whined.

He quirked his brow at her. "Seriously?"

"Please?" she asked, slumping across the counter. When that didn't work she attempted to flutter her eyelashes at him. That only provoked an eyeroll from him, and she deflated with a moan. "I'll ber lurnch," she muttered into her sweater sleeves.

He lifted a finger to his ear, patronizing and provoking all in a single sweeping gesture. "Oh, I'm sorry. I didn't get that. What did you say?"

Atop her arms, she glared before slowly reiterating, "I'll buy lunch."

That he understood.

The bastard.

"Well, why didn't you just say so?" he cooed, and when he attempted to pat her atop the head, Parker swatted him away with a glare. She was already reconsidering going anywhere with him, but a single glance towards what was awaiting her in the back of the shop had her sitting up straight. "I have to go to set today for some wardrobe fittings and thought you'd want to come with. Might as well see how the magic is made. We're gonna be late if you keep moping, though."

"We wouldn't have been late if you didn't get all mouthy with Melissa," she snarked while gathering her things. Feeling a bit guilty about leaving the kid to finish the work, she dug a twenty out of her wallet. "I'll be back later! There's money on the counter to get lunch for you girls!"

She got no response—as a mom rarely did with a teenager—and it took Colt tugging her by the elbow to get Parker to step outside. His truck was parked right in front of a fire hydrant.

She raised a brow at him, utterly unimpressed.

"What?" he asked when he caught the look she was shooting him. And, as if it wasn't a low-stakes crime that he was committing, Colt just grinned. "Relax, grumpy-pants. It's a Sunday. Fire hydrants don't count on Sundays. Now get in before we really are late."

There was a lot to say to that, but Parker didn't bother wasting the energy, and with an easy-going grin of her own, she clambered inside.

---

An hour later and Parker finds herself propped on an overflowing table filled with sewing needles, accessories, pens, papers, and a binder flush with polaroid photos of her brother from every angle. The film's wardrobe department, despite his warnings in the car, was more than thrilled that Colt had brought along his sister, and while he was poked and prodded, shifted left and right on a pedestal for everyone to critique, Parker had been set up with an iced coffee, some freshly made baklava, and front row seats to the most amusing thing she had seen in weeks.

"I think the crotch is too tight," Betty said, tugging on the material with long, sharp fingernails that Colt eyed like they were a sleeping snake. "See how it's bunching, we need to let it out, or maybe—see this? We could try—"

"No, no, no, it doesn't need to be let out," Sasha, a blonde woman with oversized cat-eye glasses tutted. "It's supposed to be tight. Remember?"

"It'll rip."

"It'll be fine."

"I suppose for standing, but I think he'll be wearing them for a running sequence—"

The ladies bickered back and forth, hands clawing too close for comfort at her brother's privates, and every so often he would wince when they tugged a little too hard. Parker, watching all of it, giggled every time it happened.

"How come I've never been brought along to fittings before?" she mused, a Cheshire-like grin in place. He had been standing up there for the lasty forty minutes, and every time she took a sip of her drink, Colt would look a little more green in envy at their difference in treatment. "This is fun."

"Fun," he said, mocking her with an eyeroll. "You come up here and try this."

"I happen to think I would look amazing in those pants. I have the ass for them, anyway," she chirped, and Sasha took a break from her bickering just to laugh at the idea. Beaming, Parker added, "I didn't realize that wardrobe fittings for the stunt double would be so... invasive."

"Yeah, well, usually the pants aren't so tight. That's all thanks to Ryder."

"I bet they look good on Tom," she said, half teasing, half meaning it. Anything looked good on Tom as time had proven again and again; from covered in sweat, puking in a toilet to wearing Gucci brand glasses, she had yet to see the guy look bad. Speaking of, "shouldn't he be here too?"

Colt, adjusting the tight collar of his leather jacket, shot her a look. "He's probably staring at himself in a mirror somewhere. That's how they trap raccoons, you know. They get so distracted by their own reflection that they forget to run off before the coon dogs get them."

"That's not a thing."

"Sure it is," he said, twisting on the pedestal as the ladies started to adjust the inseam of the pants. He eyed their gleaming needles nervously as they continued on their warpath across the fabric. "You should watch Animal Planet sometime. They did a whole episode on it."

"On how to catch raccoons?" Parker reiterated, absolutely not believing her brother for a second.

"It was a special."

"Maybe a Looney Tunes' special," she deadpanned with an eyeroll. Colt's mouth propped open in argument, only to freeze up when two pairs of hands started plucking the fabric across his butt, and she watched his face flush red. "Seriously? You're such a child!"

Being called out, Colt scowled at his sister. "Am not."

"Are too."

"Am—you know what?" he caught himself before he could go on his second preschool tirade of the day. Parker sipped her drink with an impish gleam in her eyes. "Whatever. You're supposed to be amusing me, not stirring up shit. Tell me something interesting."

"Sure, Caesar," she rolled her eyes. "What would your highness like to be amused by?

"I don't know! Anything. Like—what were you and Melissa doing today at the shop that had you running scared?"

She blew a raspberry, spinning slightly on the table to snatch up an oversized top hat. She didn't have a clue what sort of movie it would be acceptable for—definitely not a sci-fi one—but she traced the stitching with a bored eye anyways. "Shelf liners. They're way harder than they look, and she can get mean when she wants to be. I swear she acts like she's the boss sometimes."

"Ooooh," he teased. "Scared of a teenager?"

"You should see her first thing in the morning. She must wake up at five am to do her beauty routine, and anyone with that sort of willpower should be feared. I think I'll have to move when she finally saves up for her car. God knows the roadways won't be safe."

"Just because you can't wake up before noon without a liter of coffee doesn't mean everyone else can't. Some people are naturally early risers."

"Says the guy that slept for nineteen hours straight once."

Colt shot her a cross look. "I had a concussion."

"All the morning reason not to sleep that long. Isn't rule number one of head injuries that you're supposed to wake up every so often for a health check?" she asked.

Her brother popped his mouth open to argue, finger poised, before he slowly let it drift down to his side. His silence spoke volumes, however, and she raised her brows at him with a smug smile.

"Oh, like you're so perfect," he huffed irritably.

To which she beamed, plopping the top hat onto her head with a flourish. "Maybe I am. Ever thought about that? I'm pretty, popular with famous people, and am the reigning champion at beerball five years running."

"You cheat at beerball," he snarked before the rest of what she said caught up to him. With a gesture, Colt flexed on the pedestal, adding, "and you're not the only hot Seavers. Look at me? See how these pants are hugging my curves? You wish."

Parker laughed at that, couldn't help it if she tried. Her brother was so ridiculous that at times the way he spewed word vomit surprised even her. Not to mention the fact that he was her brother, best friend on too many planes to count; it was hard not to be in a good mood when hanging with him. Even if she was watching him get pampered like a princess before an upcoming ball.

Speaking of, "so, you don't think Tom will be around?"

Something bewildered cracked across his features at the same time that Sasha and Betty told him to step down from the pedestal. The ladies took their notes to the table, adjusting this and that, while Colt stepped behind a privacy screen. She could hear him grunting as he tried to maneuver out of the pinned clothes without sticking himself.

"Do we need to talk about this?" his voice echoed.

"About what?"

"You. Tom. Whatever weird relationship the two of you have going on," he continued, before yelping when he did stick himself on a pin. Sasha rushed behind the screen to help him get out of the pants, and when she returned, she had the garments in hand. "It's sickening to even think about."

"How is us being friends sickening?" Parker echoed.

"Because—you—he—the guy is an ass!"

"He's not an ass," she argued back, surprising herself at how quickly she came to his defense and how little she actually cared. There were few things her and Colt disagreed on; siblings that knew each other as well as they did often had minor squabbles, but nothing ever world-changing or big. Yet, it didn't feel right to let him say those sorts of things. She could consider why later. "He's just... misunderstood."

"Misunderstood?" his voice pitched behind the screen, before he was stepping out in a totally new suit. It was black and yellow, leather, emboldened with the NASA logo, and for a moment she forgot entirely what they were talking about to ogle it appreciatively.

"Ooh, nice job ladies, I like that one."

Colt paused, glancing down at himself. "It is nice," he said in surprise, twisting and turning in the mirror. As he smoothed the material down, he added, "comfortable too. Is this worn much in the film?"

Betty checked her notes. "Looks like he wears it in a few scenes. Oh, looks like you should be wearing it for a harness drop, so make sure you tell us if it's too tight anywhere," she said as the women headed back over to him with their tape measures and pins. "Good?"

He stretched up and down, left and right, before gesturing to the armpit seams. "Probably could be loosened a bit."

She nodded, and the ladies got to work on that, as Colt returned his attention to his sister. Clearing his throat, he continued their earlier disagreement. "I can't believe you of all people think he's misunderstood."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"Uh, hello? Remember the whole coffee thing?"

"I think I understood him perfectly well then," she argued, top hat shifting on her head as she gestured. It was surprisingly heavy, and Parker fixed its lean half-heartedly. "He was an asshole during that encounter, and several encounters since then."

"Then what's with the whole PR parade?"

"I just think he's, I don't know... not always like that."

Colt stared at her; blinking, wide-eyed, with wheels spinning slowly between his ears. She swore she could smell the smoke from there, and Parker prepared herself for whatever ridiculous conclusion he was going to come once the spinning stopped.

"You didn't drink any kool-aid recently did you?"

And, yup. She saw that one coming from a mile away.

"Jesus Christ, Colt," she rolled her eyes, huffing. "When are you going to stop with that Jonestown shit?"

"It was a big deal! More people should be talking about it."

"Yeah, like, three decades ago. No one is trying to copy it with kool-aid. That would be a little bit of an obvious tactic, don't you think? I don't know how many times I have to tell you that I'm not in a cult!"

He held his hands up to placate her, before dropping them back down at Sasha's disgruntled tsk-ing. Parker supposed the ladies would be amused by their conversation if they weren't so intently focused on their work. That or they would be seriously concerned for the siblings' mental welfare.

"I'm just checking. Cult leaders are hard to spot you know. That's their whole gimmick. They look normal, just like you and me, and then next thing you know—wham! Indoctrination. Cult. Weird clothes and bad bathing habits and no teeth. It's a slide, not stepping stones, Park. Tom Cruise fell for it in the eighties and hasn't gotten out since"

"Yeah, well, I don't have any sort of money to give a potential cult leader so I don't really think I'm a good target in the first place. Plus, Tom Cruise seems to be doing just fine with the whole Scientology thing," she replied drolly. He didn't have an argument to that, and she shook the melting ice in her cup half-heartedly. "All I'm saying is he's under a lot of pressure from a lot of people. Isn't it possible that he overreacts sometimes?"

He didn't look pleased with her line of questioning one bit, shaking his head at her like a disappointed parent. "I don't think you should be friends."

"What?"

"I don't like it. I don't like it at all."

"Now who's drinking the kool-aid?"

"I'm just saying! It's weird," he continued, gesturing to her a second time only for Betty to snatch his arm and tug it back down with a glare. Colt didn't seem to notice, however, as he barreled on in the way that idiots often did. "First, it's the bookstore. Normal, no biggie. Then, it's the little giggling and laughter. Odd, but whatever. But then, all of the sudden, he has an invite to my exclusive birthday party—"

She threw her head back with a groan, top hat tumbling to the table. "I already apologized for that!"

"—and next thing you know, our Friday night is being highjacked by some ritzy party in upper LA where I have to wear my nice shoes and act like an adult. I'm telling you—rockslides only take a pebble."

"Are you saying you didn't have fun?" she asked with a pointed look, to which her brother hedged and hawed instead of answering. Like a guilty dog that knew it was in trouble, he avoided eye contact. Replacing the top hat onto her head, she waved her hands around. "See? So what's the problem? You got along then, too, didn't you?"

"Well, yeah."

"Then isn't it possible you misjudged him too?"

"I've known him a lot longer than you."

"But you've never actually spent time with him outside of work."

"For good reason."

"Really? Because you always seem to get along when I'm around," she continued, not ready to let the point go if only because she needed it to stick. "So, how good can the reason be? Maybe he's grown up since you first met him, and you just don't want to accept that."

It was a solid argument, they both knew that.

But Colt was as stubborn as she was. He sniffed. "Well, I still don't like it. Is something going on between you two?"

"Like what?" she asked, despite knowing exactly what was going on between the two of them.

They had kissed. Once. Twice. Three times. Then a few more times until she couldn't really remember what was happening. All she knew was one moment they were kissing and the next moment she was riding home with Colt and Jody, bewildered, breathless, and giddy.

"I have no clue what you're on about," she said despite knowing exactly what he was on about, deciding that gaslighting her brother might be the best option at the moment. "We're just friends."

"Well, obviously," he scoffed, as if anything else was beyond the scope of his imagination.

Which—fair.

She couldn't exactly begrudge him for thinking that there was no chance in hell Parker could kiss someone like Tom Ryder. She could barely believe it, and she was the one that had done it. Still, she scowled at him, contemplating it she wanted to drop the subject entirely or tell him in explicit detail all the reasons he was an idiot, but before she could, the fitting room door opened, and in he walked.

He looked good.

He always looked good.

But today he looked especially good with his dewy skin and jean jacket. Or, maybe, Parker was just looking at him in a new light, and when his gaze landed on her, she couldn't help but grin at him.

"Hey, Tom," she said with a little too much enthusiasm. If he thought it was odd, however, he didn't comment on it. Just ran his gaze over her.

"Nice hat. I'm glad you're finally taking my advice and trying to improve your style, but this isn't exactly what I had in mind."

"The—? Oh!" Parker snatched the top hat off her head with a blush, and in face of her karma, Colt snorted with pleased laughter. Ass. She shot him a side-eye before chirping, "it's Colt's, actually. I told him it looked ridiculous, but the prom is coming up, and Jody is just so exited. You should see his cummerbund. Straight out of the eighteen hundreds."

That effectively wiped the smirk off his face, and Colt started to argue just as Betty ushered him towards the privacy screen for another fitting.

Pleased, she blinked back at Tom.

"What are you doing here?"

"Colt dragged me along for his fittings. Something about being scared of the fashion department team," she joked in a half-whisper, gesturing to where he was hidden behind the privacy screen knowing that he wouldn't be able to hear her. "What are you doing here?"

"I just finished my fittings."

She perked. "Oh, you're done, then?"

He nodded just as Colt re-appeared from behind the screen. The flight suit had been replaced with a suave looking tuxedo that seemed to fit wrong in every place it could, and without knowing fashion at all, Parker had a feeling it would be a while before they finished pinning this particular look. Feeling both rebellious and like a high-schooler with a crush, she cast her brother a look. He immediately caught it, and returned one of his own.

Don't you dare, he said.

She lifted a brow testily. Oh, I dare, the look said.

And just like that, Parker faced Tom and asked, "you want to get lunch?"

"With you two?"

"I don't think Colt will be finished for awhile," she said, mock sincerity in her voice. Her brother heard it, face blustered and annoyed, as she batted her lashes across the room at him. "We could always bring him back something."

"But—!" Colt cried, gesturing at them so hard that he almost whacked Sasha in the head. He didn't even notice in his rush to argue, and it took both seamstresses to position him on the pedestal where they wanted him. "We were gonna get lunch!"

"Well, you're not done, and I'm starving."

"I—I could be done. Right?" he asked, turning his own version of puppy dog eyes towards Sasha and Betty. Unlike Jody and their mom, however, it seemed that they were immune to his charms, and together, they tutted at him. "...but—but!"

"This one needs a lot of work on it," Sasha said, as Betty patted him on the back. "And there's still four more looks to get through before we move you to hair and makeup for mock-ups."

"But—!"

"Don't worry Colt," she cooed at him with a victorious grin, and she would have felt bad for abandoning him if he hadn't been so adamant about his opinion on who she could be friends with. Plus, he accused her of being in a cult four times a year; this was his penance. "We'll bring you back something."

"Do I even want to know what that was about?" Tom asked her once they were in the safety of the hallway.

Parker gave an impish look. "Just Colt being Colt. He gets mopey when he's hungry. Is Mexican okay? I really am starving."

His amusement turned scathing. "Mexican? That's all carbs. No fucking way, I just had my fitting done this morning, and I'm not going to have my pants let out."

She rolled her eyes. "Carbs are good for you," she tutted.

"Not that many."

"Rock, paper, scissors?"

Tom blinked at her—as if he couldn't believe she would suggest such a childish solution—and started off down the hallway without another word.

"Well—we can do two out of three!" she cried in his wake, and it wasn't until he disappeared around the corner did she realize that he might actually leave her to deal with Colt alone. Yelping, she rushed after him. "Okay, okay! Fine! Sushi?"

---

"I can't believe you actually eat this stuff," Parker whined twenty minutes later, a salad with more vegetables than she could name, quinoa, and some sort of vinaigrette dousing the top set out in front of her. The lettuce is limp when she lifts it with a fork, and she can't even pretend to find it appetizing as Tom munches through his. "Like, seriously? I'm not about to be Punk'D?"

He rolled his eyes at her. "You have to be famous to be Punk'D."

"I'm with you, aren't I?" she sassed, prodding the food like a toddler not allowed to leave the table before finishing their peas. She wrinkled her nose at the idea. "I get that salad is healthy or whatever, but don't you ever eat anything that tastes good?"

"This does taste good."

She shot him a look of disbelief to which he shrugged.

"I mean, kind of good," he corrected after a moment.

"It's disgusting. Why is it both limp and hard? You know an entire ethnic community eats all the carbs associated with Mexican food and they're thriving. Have you ever seen a Cinco de Mayo party? Unreal how much fun they're having."

"That's because they're drunk on tequila."

"Well, sure," she hedged, head tipping left and right as she tried to ignore the weird smell coming from the bowl in front of her. "But you gotta live a little, right?"

"I don't want to live a little," he corrected her, spitting out the word like it was distasteful. But he had that same sort of tone that he used when he was repeating something he heard a thousand times, but didn't necessarily believe. "I want to live to be a hundred, and I want to look good while doing that."

"Colt eats Mexican food," she argued.

"Colt isn't the face of a multi-million dollar movie franchise."

"No, just the body."

"Maybe you should have just gone out to lunch with Colt, then," he said, both look and tone cross.

And suddenly Parker felt like she had ceremoniously swallowed her foot in front of him. It hadn't occurred to her that he might have a touchy relationship with food, and guilt settled on her shoulders like a weight. She felt pretty stupid for not seeing that—just like she had told Colt, the amount of pressure he was under at all times was not something either sibling would be able to comprehend—and five minutes into lunch she had already made an ass of herself.

"Sorry," she said, stuffing limp lettuce into her mouth as if to prove that she agreed with him. It tasted gross, though, and Tom definitely didn't miss the way she had to choke it down. "Mhmm, it's so... salad-y."

Whether it was her tone or the look she made while saying it, something about the act worked, and when he shook his head she caught the edges of a smile peeking across his face.

Feeling better, Parker aimed for more neutral territory.

"So, your party was fun," she said, before immediately realizing that was clearly not a neutral territory if the way he paused in his chewing was anything to go by. The last thing she wanted was to come across as some sort of lovesick teenager, and she nearly choked on her tongue to add, "I just mean—Colt and Jody really liked it. She got to network a lot. Plus, Colt has been dying to see your house for, like, ever."

"He has?"

"Sure," she shrugged. "You guys have worked together for almost a decade. I think he's always wondered what your life outside of work looked like."

Tom digested that information as slowly as he digested his food, and she managed another bite of soggy, lemon-flavored lettuce before he decided on a reaction. "I didn't realize that he really cared."

"What do you mean?"

Tom shrugged; one of the rare moments he actually looked awkward while talking about something, and Parker set aside her fork to wash the bad flavor down with some bitter tasting kombucha.

Bad. It was all bad. The health food industry had to be some sort of joke.

"I don't know; just never really thought about hanging out with Colt outside of the set. I told you the stunt guys don't like me."

"What?" she deadpanned. "You? That is such shocking news. I'm shocked."

Tom huffed, then laughed, before shaking his head at her. "Don't be an ass."

"Me? Never."

"Never," he echoed, clearly mocking her. She didn't mind though. It wasn't vindictive or mean, and if it made him feel better, her ego could handle a little mocking banter. Especially when his shoulders relaxed as if a weight was being taken off them. "Whatever. Glad they, uh, had fun."

"Well, you know—open bar, secrets about the Hollywood elite. What wasn't there to like about the party?"

He nodded, another bite taken, as Parker miserably tried to force herself to eat her own food. When he had suggested a vegan salad spot, she hadn't been thrilled, but never in her wildest dreams did she imagine it would be this bad.

"Did, uh," he cleared his throat, "you enjoy the party?"

"Hm?" she hummed, not properly hearing the question as she tried to figure out if the brown thing in her bowl was a raisin or a date. Then she did, and Parker blinked up to find Tom watching her carefully. "Oh. Yeah. Yes. I had, you know, lots of fun. With Colt, Jody, er... you."

He glanced away, nodding, before peeking back at her. "Yeah?"

"Yeah. Yeah, it was... it was nice. I mean—not just the, er—you know. Not just when you—when I—when we..." she overemphasized, face hot and red as she struggled to put her thoughts into words. She absolutely didn't want to sound like their kiss was the only thing she had thought about all weekend, but she also didn't want to act indifferent because dating had somehow drifted into a game of tag nowadays.

Not that they were dating.

Oh god.

It was one kiss. Obviously they weren't dating, and he probably hadn't even thought about it a second time, and that's probably not what he was asking about in the first place, and—she was obsessing, wasn't she?

Oh, god.

"...um," Parker choked, swallowing some more kombucha before remembering she actually hated the taste of it. Wiping her mouth, she slumped onto the table with an embarrassed sigh. "Can you just put me out of my misery, please?"

Tom lifted a brow. "You might do that yourself. Are you having a stroke?"

"Maybe."

He passed over his cup of water, and Parker took a couple small sips until her cheeks didn't feel so hot. He was still watching her, still eating his food, but it was clear from the sparkle in his eye and the smug curve of his mouth that he was greatly enjoying the show. "Just wanted to make sure you had fun," he said.

"I would have had fun if we just played twenty questions," she said, catching the way he hesitated in his eating, before continuing. The cocky gleam was gone from his eye, and something kind remained when he glanced at her. "Not to complain about the... other stuff, but I meant everything I told you. I don't hang out with you for an open bar."

Tom's gaze swept the planes of her face before he nodded. It was a confident nod, for once, and he spoke he almost sounded... happy.

"Well, that's a relief at least. With how much you drink, I'm a little worried between you and Gail I'm going to go bankrupt this year. I swear every party costs more and more."

"Can't you set a budget?"

"It's Hollywood," he deadpanned, and she supposed that was an obvious enough answer that the deadpanning was necessary. "You think anything is ever under-budget?"

Parker wouldn't really know; the only thing she stuck to a budget for was Bath & Body Works lotions and Uber Eats. Just like he had said though, if she didn't, she was confident that she would be bankrupt within days.

Shrugging, she quipped, "next time you can just invite Jody and I. By keeping Colt away, you'll probably spare yourself a few thousand on alcohol alone. Though, he did behave himself last time since he was the designated driver, but I swear he's put a few bars out of business from Happy Hour deals alone."

Tom, another heaping of lettuce down, jabbed a fork at her. "Think I'd be better keeping you away considering how many napkins you took."

"Oh, shut up. They're, like, fifty cents each!"

"You had at least a hundred in you purse when you left."

"Well—" she threw her arms up, blustering, "it's not like I took all of them. Plus, when I sell them on eBay I'll give you a commission. Unlike when you got this fancy sci-fi role. I'm still waiting on my agent's fee for that one."

He shook his head at her. "Yeah, just hold your breath on that one."

With all the maturity she could muster, Parker stuck her tongue out at Tom, and with all the maturity he could muster, he chucked a carrot at her. It bounced onto the patio ground, and she noticed with a look of betrayal that not even the local squirrel population would touch it.

"Tom," she leaned forward, "I am begging you. I need carbs."

"You don't—"

"I'm going to die. Dramatically. And not quietly. Everyone will know, and they're going to think you killed me, and the tabloids will never let that go. Forgot living to a hundred, you'll be seventy and in a retirement home. Please."

Her pleading did nothing.

So, taking drastic measures, Parker used all of her own acting experience to flutter her eyelashes at him, eyes wide and dog-like. And whether it was the pathetic way she threw herself onto the table, or maybe it was the smell of the hotdog cart from down the street, but after a long moment of begging, Tom's shoulder sank with a sigh.

"Jesus Christ, fine."

"Oh, thank god," she slumped, a disgruntled look towards her salad and kombucha before the idea of real food had her perking right back up. She had tossed their stuff in the trash before Tom could manage one more bite of his salad, and though he tried to look disgruntled by that fact, when she tugged him to his feet with a giggle, he was fighting off a smile. "Have you ever had the monster burrito from Lolita's? It has cream cheese and pickles."

"That sounds disgusting."

"I know!" she bounced in excitement, pulling him along after her, gabbing all the way.

Tom let her drag him down the street without any complaint, let her order him her favorite burrito, chips, and Mexican lemonade without arguing—though he did try to see the calorie count on the menu before she snatched it away from him—and because they were on an empty set on a Sunday no one paid them much mind.

A good thing, too, because if someone had, they might have noticed the goofy grin she was wearing, or the amused smile he was; and if they looked closer, they might have even noticed that even after they got to where they were going, Tom Ryder was still holding her hand as they waited in line, letting her lean against his chest as they waited on their orders, before sitting awfully close to her on a little stone bench outside.

But, no one noticed.

Not until her shrill ringtone broke through their game of twenty questions about an hour later as her brother complained about how hungry he was. And though he suspected something weird was going on, not even Colt noticed the sly smiles they shared with one another when they delivered his food as promised or the spot of wet lipgloss smeared on Tom Ryder's mouth.

[lunarthecorvus]

Alternate Universe - Modern Setting (Not College/Uni) Kanej fanfiction recommendations

part of Lunar's soc fanficiton rec series

-------------------------------✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧----------------------------------

Stains That Don't Wash Out by @SeeMaree

Wordcount: 79,901 Chapters: 19/19

Characters: Inej Ghafa, Kaz Brekker, Most other characters

Tags: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Some referenced violence, mentions of torture, mentions of rape/non-con, nothing graphic described, basically if you've read the books this is less graphic, kaz is a farmer, and inej works with foster kids, basically an angsty slow burn, but also with attempted murder, and intermittent fluff, quite a lot of fluff really, but quite a lot of angst too, Autistic coded Kaz

Author's summary/notes: To think, when Inej had heard that someone had bought the old Rietveld place that ran alongside her family farm she’d been pleased. That was before she met the man. A more unpleasant and insulting person she couldn't imagine. But she's got bigger problems than an annoying neighbor. And as it turns out, so does he. My summary/notes: This fic was so sweet, I loved seeing older Inej being a social worker and running a camp for disadvantaged kids, it was so nice to see her being in charge and more free. I found it so fascinating to read Kaz and Inej meeting each other for the first time in adulthood, the way it adapted their dynamic was so interesting and I loved reading them get to know each other. There is definitely angst though... also Inej's parents are in it aaaa

---------- ☾₊ ⊹

modern setting (series of modern au oneshots) by @whynotcherries

Wordcount: 6,689 Works: 3 Complete: No

Characters: Kaz Brekker, Inej Ghafa

Author's summary/notes:

1. For a few moments: "If someone would’ve told her this would happen in advance, Inej Ghafa would’ve laughed in their face. This was exactly where she’d found herself waking rather peacefully, though: Kaz Brekker’s sofa, some blanket she’d never seen before carefully arranged to cover her entire body, and with the sound of someone walking around in the kitchen." Or, an accidental sleepover.

2. Will we last the night?: "He was particularly curious why, of all people, she’d chosen him to climb in a ferris wheel with. At the very least, that meant ten minutes being alone with someone that she hardly knew, and at worst… Well, they’d get stuck." Or, Kaz and Inej get stuck on a ferris wheel as their second time meeting.

3. Don't look back, not for anything: "Thankfully, she’d succeeded in getting out of the house with what they’d needed. She had not succeeded, however, in staying alert for the entire ride back to their part of town. Rather, he was fairly certain she’d fallen asleep next to him, her head resting heavy on his shoulder." Or, Kaz Brekker, Inej Ghafa, and the struggles of night trips.

---------- ☾₊ ⊹

When We Collide by @rupturedhaven

Wordcount: 106,364 Chapters: 9/? (still being updated)

Characters: Kaz Brekker, Inej Ghafa, Jesper Fahey, Wylan Van Eck, Nina Zenik, Matthias Helvar, Pekka Rollins, Dima (Shadow and Bone TV), Genya Safin, David Kostyk, The Darkling | Aleksander Morozova, Jan Van Eck, Alys Van Eck, Marya Hendriks, Nikolai Lantsov, Tolya Yul-Bataar, Tamar Kir-Bataar, Tante Heleen, Eroll Aerts, Isaak Andreyev

Tags: Kanej - Freeform, wesper, helnik - Freeform, modern day AU, Heist AU, Six of Crows, Found Family, AU/Source material hybrid, Other characters will show up eventually - Freeform, Potentially the start of a multi-fic universe, soc - Freeform, Six of Crows AU, Slow Burn, King of Scars

Author's summary/notes: The Bastard of the Barrel. The Wraith. The gambler. The wayward son. The Heartrender. The fugitive. A thirst for revenge brings the six of them together, but can they weather a storm of secrets, deceptions, unlikely friendships and heartbreak? And if so, who will they have become once the clouds disperse? Modern Day AU with a mix of elements from the books and show. Long-running narrative with plenty of time for all our favourite characters to show up... My summary/notes: I've recommended Rupturedhaven before beacuse they are such a good writer, would recommend every one of their fics. This fic has such good world-building and the heist is so fun to read. You will be sucked into this this fic and not want to put it down. The way it adapted the crows relationships was so interesting, its a modern crows hiest (I don't want to spoil it so go read it :)

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Adiago by @whatanybodygets

Wordcount: 81,074 Chapters: 7/12 (hasn't been updated in over a year but you NEED to read it)

Characters: Kaz Brekker, Inej Ghafa, Nina Zenik, Jesper Fahey, Wylan Van Eck, Matthias Helvar

Tags: the gang's all here, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, mentions of past rape/non-con, Aged-Up Character(s), Touch-Averse Kaz Brekker, Minor Jesper Fahey/Wylan Van Eck, Minor Matthias Helvar/Nina Zenik, Slow Burn, Canon-Typical Violence

Author's summary/notes: Inej Ghafa is a principal dancer of the Kerch National Ballet, haunted by a past she'd rather forget. Kaz Brekker is a mob boss who holds the city in the palm of his hand. Perhaps if all were right with the world, two such people would never meet. Or perhaps fate will always give those who need each other a push in the right direction. It begins, as so many things in Ketterdam do, with a murder. My summary/notes: Of course I have to include a classic, its just a masterpiece and one of the most popular well known kanej fics. The writing is just so beautiful and this fic will take you on such a interesting journey. I loved reading Inej's pov in this fic, it really showed her struggles and her strength.

This category was asked for by the lovely @martinakl13 (p.s. check out her fics) <3

[quindread]

Constanstine starts acting sober on important missions/meetings for the JLD; he has a sanity-potion dealer

Zatanna reports this odd behavior to Batman, they interrogate him when his veins are swamped with alcohol.

C: … I-I know what yer doin’ [hiccups]

Z: We care for your well-being. You have bouts of sobriety that you seem to have control over.

B: Are you on something new?

C: M’yeah… is called a pwoz—piss—poise! Poise potion, yeah das it!

B: And who makes this “Poise” potion?

C: My dealah, my busniz. G’way! [stumbles out the door]

Z: … That went as well as expected.

Sober Constantine is actually more reasonable. Batman catches him after a meeting.

B: [observes his brushed hair and very high-quality, new trench coat] You’re sober… Congratulations?

C: Uhuh. Did you need something? I have some business elsewhere.

B: With your dealer?

C: [affronted] Wha—Who in their right bloody mind would dare call Celest that?

B: You did.

C: ….

B: Who’s Celest?

C: Oh, fuck me!

Constantine gives him an address - it’s in Milan, Lombardy (Region of Italy). He specifically instructs him to come as a civ along with Red Hood and Robin with the threat that he will erase their memories if they so much as go into detective mode.

Bruce Wayne and his two wayward children enters the teahouse and is led by the hostess to a private room. They are served with tea and light snacks that they know even Alfred would more than approve of.

A door opens - they didn’t even know it was one with the way the molding blends into each other seamlessly. And out came one of the most enchanting woman Bruce has ever seen. He’s seen his fair share of attractive females but he has never been star-struck like he should be - as if he were back to his pre-pubescent days.

M: Constantine said you’d be here.

B: [realizes that this person was Constantine’s dealer and was 100% magic] You’re his dealer?

*Jason and Damian who saw the look on their dad’s face snicker at his opening line*

M: [raises and elegant eyebrow at Bruce] And you must be his work associates?

J: Something like that, lady. I’m Jason, kid’s Damian, and the one who can’t stop staring at you is our Dad, Bruce.

*Bruce grumbles and Marinette smirks*

M: I’m Marinette. It’s a pleasure to meet you.

D: [gestures at Bruce] Pleasure is all his, Marinette.

B: [red at the ears] Their Grandfather thought them better, I swear.

M: Mhmm. I guess he didn’t teach them how to not die then?

The guys: ….

Jason gets a more potent version of the potion Constantine consumes - it’s a prescription that he has to come for every month. Damian gets a charm; ear cuffs because he does whatever her wants, a spontaneous orbital piercing is nothing. And Bruce gets Mari’s number.

(Tim also gets forwarded in his fave fashion label’s waitlist from the near thousands to the fourteenth - his first consultation coincides with Jason’s next appointment.)

AN: Some posts/fics call Mari Celestial Guardian. Idk where and when that happened - I have abandoned canon a long time ago. These are all pulled from my days in the maribat blackhole (still kinda stuck there). I basically pulled this out of my archives so they at least get the chance to see the daylight.

Addressing Brucinette: I have a whole re-written MLB plot in my archives where everything is more brutal and the miraculous aren’t actual pieces of accessories. Like there’s an initiation to the order and stuff like that. I normally don’t enjoy aging up characters in crossovers but Brucinette just works. I have a secretary AU somewhere (it’s tragic and I’m considering scrapping it if I find it). And I also have deep-rooted issues that wants me to write Good!Dad Bruce who has Mari breathing down his neck when he so much as raises his voice at his children (Muminette/Mominette is another breed scary). And those tropes where Mari sees right through Brucie? Has a second sense for the when the batkids are in/causes trouble? Love those. I WILL FIGHT FOR THIS SHIP. (Jk people are free to dislike this. I get it.)

[kirchefuchs]

Still tryna figure out how Tumblr works but I must say this...

You're responsible for a whole second Hatchetfield AU in my brain and I'm going to curse you with the mental image of Starkid/tin can bro's other shows being legit shows in the Hatchetfield universe.

Spies are forever. As a weekly soap opera. That Ted and Tinky watch on the couch with popcorn or icecream. And absolutely quote the hell out of, much to Paul's chagrin.

Also that ending probably one of few moments they actually cry.

Aww, I'm so honored. Also, I love the idea of Tinky and Ted watching SAF together. I've definitely toyed with the idea myself. It's fun ♡

Though, since you mentioned connecting SAF and Hatchetfield I think it's important to point out that there is a very easy way to connect them into the same universe.

To start off, Spies is cannonically in the same universe as Solve It Squad and Wayward Guide, which is important. Why, you may ask? Well, you see, in the Nightmare Time 2 episode Yellow Jacket, Daniel/Stopwatch mentions that there was a kid named Benji who could talk to dogs, and wouldn't you know it? Benji Scragtowski from Solve It Squad is known for having a pet dog that could talk. Therefore, since we can connect Solve It Squad to the Hatchetverse, that also would mean Spies and Wayward Guide are in the Hatchetverse. It's all connected 👀

Really feeling like this rn, lol

[sissylittlefeather]

Ta daaaaaaah...

A Very Quiet Life: Chapter 5

A/N: still the AU where Elvis is your next door neighbor in the suburbs in the late '60s. This might be my favorite chapter so far...

Warnings: 18+ minors DNI! This one is hella smutty, kissing, fingering, oral sex (f receiving), p in v sex, unprotected sex

Links to:

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Enjoy, friends!

Song inspo (as always):

And the gifs:

"Well, I'll be around as long as they need me." He walks out the front door and back to his house.

******

Three weeks pass with only polite waves between you and Elvis. He talks to the kids periodically, but you usually try to avoid eye contact when he does.

One Tuesday morning, after dropping the kids off at school, you turn on the shower and try to adjust the shower head. It comes off in your hand and water shoots out everywhere. You run to the water shut-off valve and turn it off quickly. You're still holding the shower head in your hand and blinking through the water that just sprayed all over you.

You only have one shower. Luckily, today is your day off, but you don't really have the money right now to call a plumber because you spent so much for Michael's birthday party coming up this weekend. You feel so bad for him in his little cast that you can't help but go a bit overboard.

You know what you need to do, but you're not sure if you can do it. Will he even come after the weeks of chilliness between you?

You decide you don't have a choice and throw on some clothes to go next door.

When you step onto his porch, a thought attacks you. What if his wife answers?

But as far as she knows, you're just a needy widow with a broken shower. Either way, you knock. Eventually he comes to the door with a guitar in his hand. He smirks at the sight of you with dripping wet hair and a shower head in your hand.

"Well, hello."

"Hi. I'm really sorry to do this but my shower is broken and I--"

"Say no more. I'm in the middle of a lesson right now, but I'll be over in about fifteen minutes." You hear wayward strumming from his living room. It takes a second for you to remember that he teaches music lessons to kids, but once it registers you apologize again for interrupting.

"It's not a problem. I'll see you in a bit." He closes the door as you back off of the porch and head back to your own house.

The next fifteen minutes go by slower than a snail in molasses. You're sitting in your living room with the shower head still in your hand when you hear him knock. You open the door and he walks in with a box of tools. He follows you back to the bathroom and takes the shower head from you.

"Umm... I'll let you work..." you say awkwardly as he gets started.

About twenty minutes later, he calls to you from the bathroom.

"Can you turn the water back on, so I can test it?" You go to the shut-off valve and turn it back on full power.

"Ah, SHIT FUCK!!" You hear him holler from the bathroom. You run in there to see what happened. He's standing in the shower soaking wet.

You absolutely die laughing when you see him. He looks down, shaking his head, and starts laughing too.

"You left the damn water running!" He laughs a big booming laugh and you double over, tears squeezing out of your eyes as you cackle.

"It's not that funny!" He grabs your hand and pulls you into the shower, turning the water on again as he does it, so that you're getting soaked too.

"Ah! Stop it!" You sputter and laugh, trying to turn the faucet off, but he blocks you. Luckily the water has warmed up as you stand there with him laughing as the shower continues to soak you both. You put your hand on his chest without thinking. He puts his hand over yours and looks down at you. He's not laughing anymore. You stop too as you look up at him, breathily heavily as the water runs down your back. He leans in slowly and you feel your heart flutter as his lips touch yours. Next thing you know, he's wrapped around you in a passionate kiss. You rip your wet shirt off over your head and move to take his off too. He feverishly unhooks your bra and tosses it out of the shower. You press your wet skin against his while your lips are smashed together, tongues moving wildly. Your pants and underwear are the first to go, but his aren't far behind. When you're both naked, water still running, he turns you around to face the shower wall. He kisses the back of your neck and runs both hands down the front of your body, stopping only to squeeze your breasts lightly. You stand on your toes as he lines himself up with you from behind and pushes into you, filling you fully. He grabs your hips and thrusts powerfully, fucking you from behind as the water runs down both of you. You've never been fucked with this kind of urgency before and you can feel your climax building as he pounds into you. With no warning, he pulls out of you and flips you around with your back pressed up against the wall. He gets on his knees and goes to work licking you and fucking you with his fingers. You were already close, so you come fast and hard in his mouth, your orgasm vibrating and resonating across your body like a tuning fork.

He stands up and enters you from the front, pulling on your thighs to lift you up and set your ass on the shower bar. He pumps into you like his life depends on it while you grip his back tightly, trying not to leave marks with your fingernails. He leans down and kisses you tenderly. Despite the fervor with which he's fucking you, he's still gentle. After a few more thrusts, he slams his hips into yours and cries out.

"Fuck yes, y/n!" He twitches and pumps weakly one more time and kisses you before pulling out and helping you down from the shower bar. Your legs are shaking and you notice that the water isn't so warm anymore. He leans over and shuts it off and you stand there naked and wet together, your chests heaving. You wrap yourself around him one more time and kiss him deeply. He holds you tightly against himself, like he's scared to let go of you. Pulling back to look at you, he whispers.

"I don't want to get out of this shower."

"I don't either." You want to stay here forever in this limbo with him where you can be together and no one has to know and nothing has to change.

"I don't have any more lessons today."

"I don't have to pick up the kids until 4." He reaches for a towel and wraps it around you. Then he grabs one for himself.

"Want to spend the day in my bed?" You look at him hopefully. It's stupid, but at this point, you don't care anymore.

"I thought you'd never ask." He smiles widely and bends down to kiss you on the cheek.

Meanwhile, across the street, Mrs. Walter takes note of the fact that the neighbor entered your house at 9:45am and still hasn't left...

******

Chapter 6 coming soon!

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Taglist:

@itlover8000 @deniseinmn @elvisalltheway101 @ccab @suxny @hernameisnoellex3 @ashtag6887 @arabellapresley @littlehoneyposts @dkayfixates @elvisxsposts @joshuntildawn13 @msamarican @returntopresley @mrsbutler99 @elvisfatass

Want to be added to the Taglist? Let me know!

[lets-try-some-writing]

In the AU where unicron is optimus father what would happen if the kids were harmed or in a dangerous situation thanks to unicron resulting in the response of the optimus and the rest of the autobots

More pain for my lovely boy. This is going to be complete angst so to make sure Prime gets some comfort eventually, I am going to make an additional two parts for this in different posts.

A Father's Wrath

After months of watching Optimus be ignored and feared by his own team, the bots Optimus had come to see as family, Unicron grew angered. The chaos god understood their initial fear, but as he watched his only creation wallow and slowly fall to loneliness, his patience wore thin. This was his son, his glorious creation who had lowered himself to protect and care for Primus's lesser spawn, and now said spawn were rejecting that kindness. It was despicable.

The chaos god tried to reign in his anger for Optimus's sake. If nothing else the human vermin that had taken up residence on his frame were there to support his wayward creation. But days turned to weeks, and weeks into months until at last Unicron could take it no longer. One day after Optimus had struggled in vain to try and speak to any of his team only to be promptly ignored, Unicron at last snapped.

In a fit of rage, Unicron transferred power over to his creation unknowingly, causing Optimus to once again fall to the ground in agony as his frame rearranged itself to make up for the surplus of power. It was unintentional on Unicron's part, but as Optimus flailed and screamed, the waves of power emanating from him struck the children and the team. The team grew ill, most purging on the spot as Optimus pulled himself together and stood on shaky pedes, his spark once again exposed. But the children... they did not fare nearly as well.

They collapsed and convulsed. Jack became violently ill, throwing up as blood leaked from his eyes and ears. Miko started having a seizure that very nearly stopped her breathing altogether. And Rafael screamed and clawed at his face as the worst migraine he had ever gotten assaulted him. Before Optimus could do anything, Fowler was called in and the children were taken away for immediate hospitalization. The team left in Vehicle mode and parked in the hospital parking lot to keep a general optic on the children for fear that they might die while Optimus remained at base.

Left completely and utterly alone, Optimus cried. His frame once again shattered so thoroughly could not shed tears even if he tried, but the mixed dark and normal energon that leaked from his armor was enough of a testament to his grief. Otherworldly cries and wails echoed throughout the abandoned missile silo for hours as Optimus wept, hating himself and everything he was in that moment. The Matrix thrummed within him, trying to calm him and comfort its chosen bearer in its own odd way, but Optimus only composed himself nearly a day after being left alone to drown in his guilt. By the time the team came back, Optimus was no longer crying, but he was frantic for answers.

Optimus: The children, are they well?

Ratchet: *refusing to look at him*...

Optimus: Please, tell me their conditions!

Ratchet: *turning to leave* ...

Optimus: *grabbing his arm to keep him still* I can endure this silence no longer! Tell me what has befallen the children!

Ratchet: *snarling and ripping his arm away* They live, no thanks to you.

Optimus: Ratchet-

Ratchet: Save it! If this incident has proven anything, it is that you are dangerous, too dangerous to be kept near.

Optimus: Wait!

Ratchet: We are done. Take what you need and leave. You are no longer welcome here.

Optimus: Please don't do this-!

Ratchet: LEAVE!

The dooming declaration hung in the air as Optimus stopped dead in his tracks, the blazing motes of light that served as his optics flickering and wavering. His outstretched servo shook and his exposed spark pulsed in shock and horror. He looked at the rest of the team, desperate for it to be some cruel joke or perhaps a mistake. But as he met the fierce gazes of each of his former team, he knew the truth.

They feared him, and they wanted him gone.

The only one who didn't meet his pleading gaze was Bumblebee who instead opted to look away, unable to watch as Optimus was sent away. The Prime shook and energon leaked from his frame in his own version of tears as he sputtered in vain. However after a moment of silence, Optimus shuddered, turned away, and began gathering the few items he would take with him. He did not want to strip his family of anything important, after all, they still had a war to win. So all the Prime took was the few personal accessories he brought with him to earth, a singular first aid kit, and a whetstone for his in built blades.

He looked back pleadingly one last time as the ground bridge was fired up and prepared to send him halfway across the country. But as he was met with only cold and frigid glares by most, he tore his gaze away and said only one sentence before stepping through.

Optimus: If this is what you wish of me, I will honor it... but let it be known that I never intended for this to happen.

Optimus: ...

Optimus: I'm sorry.

He stepped through and the groundbridge closed behind him the moment he was out of sight. As soon as Optimus was gone, the team sighed collectively, not out of relief like they expected to, but out of grief for what they had done. But despite those feelings, they did not call Optimus back and instead each took time to themselves to think over the matter.

Arcee had been the one to hate Optimus most adamantly after the reveal, but as she lay in her berth, she found herself sorrowful. Optimus had been nothing but kind to her, caring for her and showing her the utmost sympathy and respect after the losses of her partners. He never yelled, he never harmed her, and he even willingly took hits for her more times than she could count. He was Unicron's creation, but he was the kindest mech she had ever met. She hated to admit it, but laying there after he left, she cried and tried to tell herself that it was for the best.

Bulkhead and Wheeljack were both very torn when it came to the matter of Optimus. Both respected him and looked up to him, even after the reveal they wanted to serve under him as they always had. After all, wreckers don't judge a mech so long as he does good. But with how dangerous he had proven to be, in their minds they could not afford to accept the risk that he posed, not when the children were in their care. As much as they loathed sending their Prime away, to them it was only right. It was what good wreckers would do...

Ratchet despised himself the moment he saw the look on Optimus's face after he ordered him to leave. He wished more than anything to take back those words, but his spark... his spark screamed in terror whenever his old friend looked at him. The sight of Optimus's blazing form and the feeling of his sickening spark waves washing over him were engraved into his memory. He couldn't look at Optimus the same way, not after all he had seen since Unicron's near awakening. He wanted to believe that what he was doing was right, that he was sending away a monster that had posed as Cybertronian like some sleeper agent for millions of years. But the pain in Optimus's glowing optics... it made Ratchet regret.

No monster could have looked so betrayed and so very broken at being sent away.

As for Bumblebee? He was left in a state of internal conflict. Much like Ratchet, he was terrified of his Sire's true form and nature, but like Arcee, he couldn't just ignore the fact that he had only ever been met with love and care from Optimus. The Prime had raised him, taken care of him, fought for him, and never once done a thing to harm him. Bumblebee wanted to think that he was cutting off a parasite or getting rid of a spy when he blocked off his bond with Optimus. But as he watched his Sire leave the base for what was likely the last time, Bumblebee felt empty and more alone than every before.

He had betrayed his Sire on every level and his spark knew it...

The children were not allowed back to base for over a week afterward as they recovered. Thankfully they did not suffer any serious damage and healed quickly. But upon entering base for the first time since the incident and seeing Bumblebee issuing orders instead of Optimus, they grew concerned. Immediately they tried to ask what had happened in their absence only to be met with silence from Fowler and June. Even when they turned to the team for answers, the bots simply dodged their questions, eventually up and lying by saying that Optimus was taking a few days to himself because he felt guilty.

The children were suspicious as pit, especially once they noticed the lack of avatars from Unicron and the mysterious disappearance of Optimus's plants, but they accepted it. The reasoning seemed plausible with Optimus's personality... so they waited.

Every day after school the children asked about Optimus. Bulkhead and Wheeljack only met their queries with guilty gazes and did their best to dodge the question. Arcee outright told the children to leave her alone every time they tried to talk with her about the absent Prime, only further rousing their suspicions. Ratchet straight up wouldn't even look at the children and tended to wander off muttering something whenever they tried going to him. And so lastly, after an additional week of prodding and begging for answers, Bumblebee stepped up as leader and gave them.

Jack: Where's Optimus? I know you said he was taking some time off, but it's been nearly two weeks!

Miko: It isn't like him!

Rafael: Optimus is always working and never takes breaks. Did something happen to him?

Bumblebee: ...

Rafael: Bee?

Bumblebee: For your safety, Optimus Prime has been stripped of his badge and exiled for harming innocents, associating with the enemy, and traitorous behavior.

The children: What!?!

The children were distraught but could do nothing once the truth was revealed. They could only make a fuss and give the team the silent treatment in retribution. The team did not take Optimus's absence and the children's reactions well... and neither did the Prime even with the distance between them.

Optimus set up camp in his alt-mode once his frame had healed from the power burst. He hid out in an old garage on some farmstead where a human male and his daughter lived. He stayed undercover for nearly a week in his alt-mode, both to allow his frame to recover and to wallow. He was absolutely spark broken at being sent away and most of his time in alt-mode was spent lamenting his losses.

But the Matrix has never been one to allow its bearer to remain inactive for long, and it swiftly pushed Optimus to move, to do something. As such Optimus resolved himself and left his makeshift base of operations with one goal in mind.

He would continue to fight for his Autobots, weather they wanted him to or not.

Unicron tried to reach out to his creation multiple times during the whole fiasco, but Optimus ignored him, angry at his father for destroying the delicate balance he had forged with his team. As such Optimus went at his work alone, using his remaining access to Autobot codes and signatures to track down his old team to assist where he could.

He would not stand idly by, not while Megatron still lurked.

[bitch-butter]

POV ask of the Messy Au

ahh i don't want to spoil pretty from the back too much, but here's a quick imagining of webgott's Official meeting in pretty on the inside.

POV — something that’s already happened, retold from another character’s perspective

The cold was bracing, even all the way down to his marrow, and he slumped against it thankfully, trying to decide whether he'd smoke this cig faster or slower. It was getting easier, showing up sober-ish, but he still missed the hot flush of nothingness at the back of his tongue, being unable to tell whether he was having a good time or a bad time. Gene was being uncharacteristically kind, but then so was everyone as he closed in on a year of...whatever this was.

A whole year. A whole year, the sound of it in his ears like cream off the top of fresh milk, like metal scraping over violin strings.

Like -

The light in Babe and Gene's kitchen was broken abruptly, the warm box of it going dark and shattering into a human form, and suddenly he wasn't alone. Leaning out the window was the wayward kid from last time, the lost boy that Toye felt bad enough to invite into their sorry band of ne'er do wells. Joe had known he didn't belong from the fucking jump with his hair and his face caught between the inside and the outside, blue and orange shapes only catching the edges of his beauty. He'd been shocked the other guys seemed to take to the guy - Webster - as fast as they did, but then Joe always did take an extra ten minutes to warm up to anyone. The bitch flower sometimes only needs an extra ten to sufficiently bloom, so at the very least he gets a full picture.

And here Webster was again, poking his head out from the window with a curious expression on his handsome face, and Joe admitted he found himself surprised.

“You’re back,” he said, unable to think of what else to say, feeling bizarrely pleased. 

Webster nodded. “I’m back," he replied, and his voice was a rich plume of fog in the cold air, the breadth of it stretching out towards Joe like it wanted to lay itself across his face.  

He sounded proud of himself, and Joe huffed out a low sound, smiling in spite of himself. “We didn’t scare you off,” he said, and couldn't help but sound impressed even to his own ears. Webster would not have been the first sad-eyed twunk they chased off with their codependent antics, so the fact that the guy came back for more was worthy of a certain degree of pleasure and alarm. The guy must be some kind of glutton for punishment.

A somewhat ugly sound snorted its way out of Webster's nose, and Joe could see him perfectly in his minds eye: ivy-leagued, sweater-vested, perpetual virgin, trying desperately to impress. “Not a lot scares me," he said wryly, and oddly Joe could detect a note of sincerity.

Bringing his cig up for a long drag, Joe held the other man's eyes in his own, their color washed out by the shadows. Maybe he could give this one a chance. Anybody that at least wants to pretend that they aren't intimidated is at least worthy of a secondary glance, a bit more than just the cursory dismissal Joe affords people.

It doesn't hurt that his long dead libido - currently enrobed in full funerary garb after having to relearn how to have and use pleasure sensors effectively - is threatening to rise from the grave at the sight of the guys face. Joe's first instinct upon feeling attraction for another person is to go completely still, but outside of Jurassic Park that's never been an effective game plan really, so what could it hurt extending an interaction that he could feasibly jerk off to later?

Jerking off to this would truly mean he was beyond help. Eh, who cares?

“That’s good to know,” he said, voice pitched downward, hoping to draw the kid out. “Joe Liebgott,” he introduced, extending his cig-free hand.

“I know,” Webster nodded, taking his hand in a firm grip that Joe would absolutely not think about later. “David Webster.”

“I know,” he mimicked, holding his hand perhaps a bit longer than necessary before releasing him, the warmth of the other man's palm sticking against him like golden honey. He distracted himself from Webster's idling by taking another pull on his smoke, trying not to watch the guy too closely as he glanced from the kitchen and back to Joe, breath billowing in front of him once again.

“Were you all guessing I wouldn't be around this long?” Webster asked, quiet but curious, strangely high and low at once.

Joe expelled a burst of a laugh, all smoke in the night air. “That’s putting it mildly,” he said, the smoke catching in his throat with the chill of the night, and Webster gave him an unimpressed look; brow raised, mouth pursed, and he glanced back into the kitchen.

In the warm glow of the apartment his eyes went bright blue, and their color shot out at him like the Northern lights. They were a rolling wave over him, and the coldness of his hands became less acute, the sting of his cheeks tempered by the warmth of the other man's waters. Suddenly he missed California, missed summer skies, missed the way the air seemed clear and distinct in the mountains.

Webster's eyes held all these things, and Joe felt abruptly as though he knew him very well. Even deeper than their loveliness he could see something down, down, down, far towards the very bottom that called out to him. Hunger. Pain. Longing.

Your eyes, your eyes, your eyes, he thought.

“Sorry to disappoint,” Webster said abruptly, the Harvard brat once more, and he gave Joe a sharp, petulant sniff before shoving off of the ledge and escaping back into the light of the kitchen. “See you later,” he tossed over his shoulder, already gone.

Joe missed his presence, found that he wanted more. And that was always a dangerous pastime for him, wanting more. Wanting more led him down long hallways, through doors that lead to other doors, to trouble, to the greatest of adventures and the most exquisite pain.

“See you,” he said softly, mind already turning with possibilities, with the feeling of looking down from a great height.

Aright, David Webster, he though to himself, pulling on his dying smoke. You're on.

[princess-of-the-corner]

So like. On 1 hand, dreaming of the person who has your Quirk, specifically seeing what it’s being used for, could probably be pretty scary since it’s mostly just AfO being evil. HOWEVER. In a "Hikari Lives AU" I like to imagine Hikari managing to piece enough of the dreams together to track down Aoyama (no idea what she does after), OR, you see lots of scary shit, then 1 day have a weird dream about getting a book off a high shelf, or making a grilled cheese.

OH THE JUST

She doesn't know what happened but SOMETHING happened

It's never enough for her to do anything about but it's enough to worry her. Clearly her Quirk is in the hands of a child, and there's no good reason AfO would do that.

She probably tries to push back on the connection to get more which like. Might make the spooky ghost form appear for Aoyama. And while it's not /fully/ her like it is in the main au he quickly finds it comforting.

Either way this probably still comes to a head when they actually encounter each other like at the UA entrance exam probably. But Aoyama would be more trusting of her and Hikari would be more outright protective.

This may lead to snap decisions such as, instead of waiting to see what the hap is fuckening with the situation and acting when they have more info, Hikari just picks the kid up like a wayward kitten and brings him home like 'guess what guys we have another kid now'.

[deancasbigbang]

Title: Someone Who Doesn’t Want To Be Saved

Author: RedCraneFalling

Artist: Callion

Rating: Explicit

Pairings: Castiel/ Dean Winchester, minor Andrea Howl/ Sam Winchester

Length: 49000

Warnings: Temporary Major Character Death, Child Abuse, Implied/ Referenced Underage Prostitution, Canon Typical Violence, Homophobia/ Parental Homophobia, One use of the F slur

Tags: Childhood Friends to Lovers, Hurt/Comfort, Angst with a Happy Ending, John Winchester’s A+ Parenting, Wing Fic, Grace-Soul Bonds, Loss of Virginity, AU - Canon Divergence, Parental Guardian Gabriel, !Kid Sam

Posting Date: October 2, 2023

Summary: A child shall be born of twice-tainted blood, the eldest of two and the two soldiers’ son. A saint’s soul emerges, yet a hunter is made. Born martyr from love, built killer by pain. On his hundredth season, the lock he will break, as Mother kills Child for her Father’s sake.  All God’s angels shall perish by creatures of ol’ ‘less a Seraph gone wayward does hopelessly fall Fledgling angel, Castiel gets in an accident shortly before his seventh birthday, and quite literally falls out of the sky and into Dean’s lap. The two quickly become close, but both of their families are hiding dark secrets. Dean’s in the form of an absent father who seems to drain all happiness from his two children whenever he’s around, and Castiel’s in the form of a prophecy which unites the two boys, but may ultimately tear them apart.

Excerpt: Dean starts climbing and Castiel waits for him to be about halfway up before he flaps his wings twice and jumps to the branch. “Hey no fair!” Dean calls after him, “I forgot you could fly. Flying is cheating.” “You didn’t specify no flying when you made the rules,” Castiel calls back laughing from his perch on the branch.  Castiel watches Dean climb the rest of the way up, his muscles stretching and coiling under the skin of his arms. He’s strong and lithe, graceful and sure of his movements in a way that Castiel can only imitate in flight. On the ground, the calculated angular movements of an Angel make him look robotic in comparison. He is unnatural where Dean is at home, as a true son of the Earth. And God took clay from Earth’s four corners and gave it the breath of life. Man is better than angel. Created for more than just the divine. Their perfect imperfections leave room for beauty. When Dean gets up to the branch he’s huffing with exertion. There’s sweat on his brow where his hair sticks to his forehead, and his cheeks are bright red around his freckles. The flush brings out the green in his eyes.  “Cheater,” Dean accuses when he sees Castiel’s cocky grin. He reaches out and gives Castiel a light shove.  Castiel moves exaggeratedly with the shove, and falls sideways off the tree branch.  “Cas!” Dean yells in alarm before he realizes that Castiel is simply floating in the air slightly under the branch with one leg still hooked over it. “Gonna give me a heart attack,.” Dean grumbles.  Castiel laughs and uses his wings to right himself so he’s sitting on the branch again. He straddles it, facing Dean.  “Would you like to race back down?” he says with a cheeky grin.  “No,” Dean pouts, crossing his arms “You’d probably just jump, Mister I-Can-Survive-a-Tornado.” Castiel laughs boisterously, and it seems his laugh is contagious because Dean starts laughing as well. They both smile, looking at each other. The sun dapples Dean’s skin with patches of light through the leaves.  Castiel walks with the brothers back to the nearby motel they’re staying at. Dean is in an uncharacteristically carefree mood, skipping and chattering on like the first time Castiel met him. When they reach the motel, Dean’s face falls as he looks at a big black car parked outside their room. He picks up Sam and turns towards Cas frowning.  “You gotta go home now, Cas, but we can watch Scooby Doo another day, okay?” he says. Castiel is confused but agrees and flies away.  The next time he sees the Winchester brothers, Dean has a black eye. He won’t tell Castiel where it’s from.

DCBB 2023 Posting Schedule

[hp-rarepair-requests]

Oops! I realised that I had to be more specific

- Augurlight (Delphi x Albus)

- Muggle au

- Abusive relationship

-Albus realizing that Delphi was grooming him (Flashbacks would be nice if possible)

All good! I can absolutely do that!

Augurlight Oneshot

TW/CW: Grooming, Child Predation and CSA

Albus sat in his bedroom, curtains closed, headphones blasting, homework unfinished, and food left to go cold. He wasn’t really sure what day it was, or what time it was, but he really didn’t care. He couldn’t explain the depression he had fallen into. Or maybe he could and he just didn’t want to admit it.

~

“Come on, Dad! Please!” Albus begged.

“For the hundredth time Albus, no,” his father refused him yet again. “You need to finish school.”

“Come on! The kids are mean!” Albus whined. “I passed all the necessary exams for finishing school, I have a job, I can start working more hours and even pay board!”

“I don’t care Albus, you need to complete your education,” his father tried to keep a hushed voice as they browsed the shop, looking for a specific CD for Lily’s upcoming birthday. “I’m not letting you drop out just to chase some fantasy.”

“This isn’t about music—“

“Then what is it about?”

“It’s about not having to go back to that shithole of a school!”

“Watch your language!” His father scolded. “I can’t find it. Stay here while I talk to that worker over there.”

Albus groaned and slumped against the shelf of CD’s. He was sick of that high school. Hogwarts was shit, and any wayward misfit with half a brain knew to stay far away from the preppy shitheads that wore the maroon and blue uniform. He was so sick of his classmates constantly bullying him, and he wasn’t even learning anything he could use in the career he wanted. They’d bloody cut the Music Program, the whole reason he’d even been trying to stay well enough behaved to avoid expulsion.

“Hey,” Albus turned to see a worker, with silver and blue hair and thick eyeliner. “Delphi. I couldn’t help but overhear your conversation with your Dad?”

“Oh, that,” Albus shuffled. “Sorry about that.”

“It’s fine, happens a lot,” Delphi smiled. “Hogwarts uniform?”

“Don’t worry, I won’t sue you for breathing,” Albus answered. “Not unless you breathe too loudly.”

“I’ll try not to. We get a lot of your classmates in here. Usually they’re upset that their Dad’s aren’t buying something super expensive for them.”

“Nah, I’ve got a different kind of dysfunctional family.”

“I can tell,” Delphi plucked something from Albus’ face and he felt it heat up. “Eyelash. Sorry about your Dad. Sucks when your parents don’t believe in you.”

“Well, I don’t know if he doesn’t believe in me,” Albus cleared his throat. “He just … he’s an adult, he probably knows better.”

“I don’t know,” Delphi knocked Albus’ shoulder. “You didn’t start singing the lyrics to Emo Girl when you saw me. Makes you much more mature than some of the other kids your age. It’s also not that hard to enter the music scene. I would know, my band The Augurey are doing pretty well.”

Delphi walked away as Albus saw his father approaching, Lily’s gift in hand.

~

Albus rubbed his eyes and took his earphones out. There had been a light tapping at his door, and when he pulled it open he saw his younger sister. Lily was in her soccer uniform, with dirt on her shins. She’d just got back from practice, it was afternoon.

“Just figured I’d let you know we won,” Lily grumbled. “Not that you even cared to show up.”

“Won what?” Albus asked.

“The game. The Liverpool Griffins are moving onto the semifinals.”

“You had an actual game today?”

“Yes, and you promised you’d come to this one!” Lily crossed her arms. “You’ve become a real jerk these holidays.”

“Oh my God. Lily I am so sorry. I completely forgot.”

“Yeah, I know! Couldn’t even get out of bed to say goodbye this morning.”

Lily turned and began to storm off.

“Lily wait!” Albus followed her. “I don’t even know what day it was.”

“Save it, Albus,” Lily shook her head. “I would invite you to the next one but I doubt you’d show up. Dad’s making soup for dinner, maybe you can show up for that?”

Lily slammed her bedroom door shut and Albus felt lost. How could he forget something as important as Lily’s game? It was the first one where he wouldn’t be too busy working at The Three Broomsticks to go! He’d promised to go! He hadn’t been able to go to any of her other games that year and she missed his support in the stands. And he missed cheering her on from the crowds. How could he forget something as important as that?

~

“Well, well, well, we meet again,” Albus looked up in shock to see none other than Delphi. “Studying for a test?”

“Algebra,” Albus informed her.

“God, what year?”

“Year ten.”

“Yikes,” Delphi hissed in sympathy. “So your doing all that expand and simplify bullshit with the brackets.”

“Yep,” Albus sighed. “Although, it looks more like hieroglyphics to me.”

Delphi giggled. “You’re funny. What was your name?”

“Albus,” he answered, blushing at the compliment. “I work at The Three Broomsticks just down there.”

“Oh sick, my band is performing a gig there this Friday night.”

“I’m working this Friday night.”

“Oh, so you’re getting paid to see The Augurey live. Now that’s an honour.”

Albus laughed. “What instrument do you play?”

“I’m all vocals,” Delphi clarified. “What about you?”

“Oh um, I used to do the music program at my school before they cut it,” Albus fiddled with his pencil, feeling suddenly shy under Delphi’s piercing brown eyes. “Guitar, bass, drums, piano, little bit of vocals.”

“Oh, so you are literally just a one man band?”

Albus laughed to the point of smiling very brightly. “I guess you could call me that. If you can call a fourteen year old with no released songs a one man band.”

“You’ll be a one man band eventually,” Delphi ruffled his hair. “I have faith in you.”

~

Albus closed his bedroom door and pulled out his phone. A notification popped up and he bit his lip. The Augurey’s social media. They’d posted something new.

Albus opened the app and saw the pictures. Delphi smiling with the rest of her bandmates. Pictures from whatever event they were at now. Pictures he couldn’t help but stare at. Especially the last one. The picture was technically of Rascal and Vermyn, the bassist and guitarist, but Albus was focused on the background. Delphi with some guys tongue shoved down her throat.

Albus hadn’t learnt this guys name. He appeared in many pictures. Sometimes he was even in the foreground. But Albus hadn’t learnt his name. Didn’t want to. He just wanted to know why Delphi would lead him on the way she did.

~

Albus was left to close up close up the restaurant while his manager, Rosmerta, went over the employee schedules for the next week. He found he quite enjoyed The Augurey’s live performance that night. He’d hoped to speak to Delphi at some point, but he was stuck as the dishwasher for most of the night, but the few times he had been out cleaning tables he could of sworn she’d been looking at him. He was pretty certain she’d even winked at him at some point.

“Hey Albus!” He jumped when Delphi came up behind him. “Did you enjoy the show?”

“Yeah, you guys are really good. You have a very good voice.”

“Thank you,” Delphi smiled brightly and touched Albus’ cheek. “You lose a lot of eyelashes. So, are your parents here to pick you up?”

“No, I was going to catch the bus home.”

“You’re kidding?” Delphi’s jaw dropped even further when Albus shook his head. “You can’t catch the bus home at this time of night! There are creeps and weirdos out there.”

“Aside from the creepy weirdo I’m talking to now?” Albus asked, wiping the last corner of the bench down. “It’s fine, I do it all the time.”

“It’s not fine!” Delphi sighed. “How about I drive you home?”

“What?”

“Come on! I won’t be able to sleep tonight if I don’t mKe sure you get home safe.”

Albus felt his face heat up at that. He supposed a car ride with Delphi wouldn’t be the worst thing to ever happen. “Alright, I can give you the directions.”

“Great! Let’s go.”

Albus let out a nervous breath as he followed her to her car, locking the shop door behind himself. She drove a second hand car, small and inexpensive, but the inside was decorated with plenty of gothic delights. He got into the passenger seat and told her where to go.

“So, you hate Hogwarts I take it?”

“Uh, yeah,” Albus shook his head. “Bit of an understatement really. I get bullied. Really badly. And the teachers don’t do shit about it.”

“I feel that,” Delphi sighed. “Wish there was something I could do to help.”

“It’s alright,” Albus chewed on his lip. “My house is that one.”

Delphi pulled into the driveway. “Damn, you’re families loaded.”

“Yeah, we are.”

Albus went to get out of the car but Delphi grabbed his wrist and stopped him.

“What are you—“

“My phone number,” she wrote the digits onto his palm. “Message me next time you have work late. I don’t like the thought of you catching the bus this late at night.”

“Oh,” Albus swallowed. He had her number, that was fun. And really nice of her to be so worried for his well-being.

Delphi caressed his cheek and rested her hand on his face. “Eyelash. I’ll see you later.”

“See you later.”

~

Albus threw his phone to the floor and curled up in his blanket. He really shouldn’t have been surprised. She was pretty, she was semi-famous, she was older. And they weren’t exactly on good terms at the moment either. Of course something like this would have happened.

He wanted to curl into such a small little ball it was like he didn’t exist. No one could hurt him or lead him on that way. People wouldn’t even be able to look at him, let alone talk to him.

“Albus,” he groaned when he heard his fathers voice just outside his door. “Dinners ready.”

“I’m not hungry.”

“Come on, you haven’t had dinner with us in a week,” his father answered. “I’m starting to get a little worried.”

“I’m fine.”

“Well, if you’re fine you come down to dinner. Come on, get up.”

Albus groaned, and crawled out of bed again. Why him? Why that day?

~

Albus walked out of admin with his letter, supposedly his aunt Hermione was there to pick him up for an appointment he hadn’t even known about. God, his time management skills could really use some work.

As Albus left the school gates he noticed a familiar beat up car. It didn’t belong to his aunt, her car was certainly not beat up, but it did belong to someone else he knew. Someone he was much more excited to see.

“Oh my God, you did not just get me out of school.”

“Hey,” Delphi shrugged. “I told you I wanted to do something to help. Come on, we’re going to the beach.”

“The beach? Are there even any good beaches nearby?”

“Of course there are! You just need to know where to look!”

Albus smiled brightly and got into the car with her. He hadn’t properly skipped school like this in a long time, it was exhilarating.

“Alright Eyelashes, let’s go.”

Albus came down the stairs to see the rest of his family had already started eating their soup. He approached the counter and filled up his bowl. Pumpkin soup. He plonked down at the table, feeling much like the rain that poured outside the window.

“Hoods off at the table, Albus.”

Albus groaned at his mothers words, and yanked the hood from his head before continuing to eat.

“So as I was saying, it’s a very delicate and difficult case,” his father complained about work. “Grooming is a very difficult crime to prove. Our evidence is circumstantial at best.”

Albus ripped a piece of bread and dipped it into his loaf.

“I mean, how am I even supposed to prove he did this? It’s not like he ever actually hurt her, just made it so he could.”

“What?” That confused Albus.

“What’s confusing you?”

“How could he have groomed her if he never hurt her?”

“Grooming is the process of creating an environment which enables abuse,” his father clarified. “A very common misconception people have is that you have to actually h physically hurt someone.”

“Oh.”

~

Albus flopped down onto his towel, and let the rare sunshine beat down on him, giving him a much needed tan. Delphi soon after joined him, and he tried not to look at her too much. He really should have realised that the beach entailed a certain amount of vulnerability.

“That was fun, but I think I might have to take you back to school soon.”

Albus groaned very loudly. “Please don’t.”

“What do you want me to do?” Delphi sat up. “Hold you captive here forever?”

Albus jumped when Delphi pounced on him and they began to wrestle in the sand. His leg was only slightly tangled in his towel by the time she managed to get on top of him. Oh goodness, this was a very compromising position. He only hoped she didn’t do anything to uh … provoke him, we’ll say.

“You’ve got another eyelash,” Delphi’s fingers danced across Albus face as she wiped the stray hair away.

“I swear I didn’t used to lose eyelashes this regularly,” Albus sighed, hoping to get her off from on top of him. This was not something he felt ready to deal with.

“Sure,” Delphi’s face seemed to move impossibly closer, and her breath grazed over Albus’ lips. All he’d have to do is move slightly and they’d practically be snogging.

“We should go,” Delphi got up and put her shirt back on over the top of her bikini. “Your parents will surely be mad if you aren’t home in time.”

~

Albus finished his soup and climbed the stairs before anyone could stop him. He needed some space. Desperately.

Albus opened his laptop and stared at the search engine for a moment. He began to chew on his nails, feeling his stomach roil with the unasked question still lingering in his head. What was he even supposed to do in this type of situation? What was he even supposed to look up?

He swallowed and quickly typed up his question before staring at it. The fact that he even felt the need to ask felt a bit like a confirmation, but he couldn’t be certain. He pressed enter.

How do you know if you’ve been groomed?

~

“What’s this?” Albus asked.

“It’s a birthday present,” Delphi answered.

“My birthday is in October.”

“Just open it.”

Albus smiled before tearing into the gift Delphi had gotten for him. He pulled open the box and inside there was nothing more than a business card. Riddle Studios?

“I may have pulled some strings with my manager,” Delphi clarified. “They’re going to let you record one song, and if they like it and it performs well they might take you on.”

“You’re joking.”

“No joke.”

“Oh my God! Delphi!” Albus got up. “Thank you so much! God, I could kiss you!”

“What?”

“What? Um … not actually kiss you. Just — you know it’s an expression.”

“Right,” Delphi nodded. “Well, I’ll pick you up on Saturday and drive you there.”

“Yeah,” Albus nodded excitedly.

“See you,” Delphi left a peck on Albus’ cheek before walking away.

~

Grooming is the action of attempting to form a relationship with a child or young person, which would enable you to sexually assault them or persuade them to commit some type of crime, such as drug dealing or joining a terrorist organisation.

Albus wasn’t sure that exactly applied to him. He’d been a child, he was a child, but … he didn’t — he didn’t know.

A groomed child may think they are: in a special relationship with the person hurting them, experience self-blame over the the abuse they are experiencing, be confused by the nature of the relationship, and have a fear of harmed or abandoned if they speak out or defy their groomer.

~

Albus had initiated it, but he immediately regretted it. It was stupid really. To think someone as amazing as Delphi might return his feelings. As soon as he’d kissed her he felt like he’d made some horrible mistake and that he needed to run as far away as humanly possible. Something about it just felt innately wrong. Like he’d done something he really shouldn’t have.

“I am so sorry,” Albus stepped back. “I should go. That was — sorry!”

“Albus! It’s fine,” Delphi stopped him from running away. “Nothing to be sorry for.”

Delphi pulled Albus in and this time their kiss was much more of a mutual experience. And it was nice. He’d never really kissed anyone before, so he hoped he was doing it right. Delphi was definitely much more experienced in that regard. And it showed. Delphi was very good at kissing, Albus found.

~

Well, that just didn’t apply to Albus. Right? There was no abuse to feel any guilt or self-blame over. There couldn’t be. Could there? He tried to think. Had Delphi at any point actually abused him? Sure, technically she didn’t need to abuse him for it to be grooming, but there wasn’t anything to blame himself for. Was there?

He’d admit, he had felt special, he had been a little confused by their relationship, he had done things just because he was worried she’d leave if he didn’t, but he didn’t blame himself for … okay he did. Just a little bit. But it was fine because it was technically his fault. The self-blame thing surely only applied when he hadn’t actually done anything wrong right? Because he had! He’d let her get close to him, he’d initiated their … situationship? Relationship? Their whatever! He’d been the one to start it and make it confusing. He made the choice to not defy her. It was his fault.

So, therefore, it couldn’t have actually even been grooming right? What even was the definition of sexual abuse?

~

“Why didn’t you tell me you were going on tour?” Albus asked. “I mean, I figure that’s something you tell your … friend?”

“I was going to,” Delphi got up from her seat on the couch. “But it’s not even like it’s a major tour. We’re just going around England. Nowhere too far away.”

“Right, just the other side of the country,” Albus shrugged. “Would have been nice to know.”

“What? You aren’t proud of us? After all I’ve done for you, you can’t accept that I’m also making progress?”

“That’s not it—“

“Then what is it?”

“You’re leaving…,” Albus sighed. “I just — I thought we were close enough that you’d let me know first.”

“We are that close,” Delphi came over to him and rested her hands on his shoulders. “Come with us.”

“What?”

Albus was dumbfounded. There was no way she was actually inviting him to go on tour with her.

“Come with us!” Delphi’s smile widened. “Come on, you hate school, you hate your family, leave it behind and come with us.”

Albus took a step back. “Okay, first of all, I don’t hate my family. I just don’t always get along with them. And second of all, I can’t just go with you. I have a job, other friends, and my parents are worried enough that I keep disappearing from school and the house. I can’t just runaway.”

“Sure you can!” Delphi held his face now. “Please? For me?”

Albus didn’t know what to say. Delphi kissed him to see if maybe that would be convincing. It wasn’t.

“It’ll be fun.”

“No, I’m putting my foot down,” Albus shook his head and started leaving. “I can’t go with you.”

~

Sexual assault refers to the act of intentionally touching someone in a sexual manner without consent, through either force or coercion. It’s a form of sexual violence that includes child sexual abuse, groping, rape and sexual torture.

Albus scrolled down, trying to find further explanation on what child sexual abuse might entail. He didn’t think he was abused; it was just good to make sure. He seriously doubted he encountered anything severe enough to be considered abuse. And he’d been the one to initiate their relationship in the first place. So it was probably fine.

~

Albus got up from the couch and walked over to the door. Lily was at football practice and their Dad had been the one to drive her. Their Mum was stuck at work so Albus and his older brother, James, were the only ones left at home. He had to assume James took advantage of this absence of people and invited over a couple friends.

He pulled the door open and was surprised to see Delphi of all people standing outside.

“Can we talk?”

“Uh, sure,” Albus stepped aside and let her in. “We better go up to my room, so James doesn’t see you.”

Albus brought Delphi to his bedroom, and gently closed the door behind her. He was sort of glad they were getting the opportunity to talk before she had to leave. They could sort out the argument they’d had and calm down.

“I guess we should—“

Albus was startled by Delphi just grabbing his face and beginning to snog him. They’d snogged maybe a couple times, but never like this. Albus raised his hands to her head as his back hit the wall. His head hurt a little bit, and he winced, trying to separate for at least a moment to rub where his head had hit. But he hadn’t been able to. At least, he hadn’t been the one to separate.

Delphi pulled away only momentarily before attacking his neck. Which, wasn’t really something they’d ever done. It felt a little weird, but kind of nice.

“Um, you said you wanted to talk?” Albus was a little confused now. Not upset, but definitely confused.

Delphi sighed and pulled away. Did he do something wrong?

“Just … wanted to see if maybe you’d changed your mind?”

“Well, I haven’t,” Albus slouched. “You know why I said I couldn’t go.”

“Oh, come on!” She complained. “After everything I’ve done for you, you kind of owe me!”

“Travelling around the country isn’t something I can just do, Delphi,” Albus groaned. “I already told you, my parents are worried enough about me as is. If I left with you they’d probably send a whole search party looking for me.”

“Then leave a note,” Delphi stepped closer. “Please? Can’t you just be the least bit supportive?”

Albus swallowed. He could theoretically go with her, and there was probably a scenario in which everything turned out fine. But Albus didn’t think this was that scenario. He was in enough trouble as it was for constantly sneaking out and skipping school to go see her, although his parents didn’t know about Delphi’s involvement. He didn’t want to make things worse. And Lily kept asking him to go to one of her games. He’d promised to go to one as soon as he could, he couldn’t do that if he was on tour with The Augurey.

“I am supportive, and I’m sorry but I can’t just—“

Albus gasped when Delphi’s palm hit his cheek, and stilled as the sting spread across his face. She’d slapped him. She had just slapped him. And it hurt. Really bad.

“Fine, I don’t need you there anyway,” Delphi stormed out while Albus stood frozen in disbelief.

~

Child sexual abuse (CSA) occurs when an adult or older adolescent abuses a child for sexual gratification. This can include pressuring a child into a sexual activity, indecent exposure of genitals to a child, displaying pornography to a child, sexual contact with a child, physical contact to the child’s genitals, viewing of the child’s genitals, and producing pornography of a child.

Albus wiped a tear from his eye. Did kissing count as sexual contact? Did it even matter? A month ago, if Delphi had asked, Albus probably would have done everything on that list for her. If grooming was only the process of enabling abuse, had Delphi groomed him?

“Hey Albus,” he jumped when his mother walked in without knocking, and turned to face her, “what’s—?”

Albus slammed his laptop shut before she could finish asking her questions.

“Why were you looking at the definition of sexual assault?” She asked.

“I wasn’t,” Albus answered, scratching his neck.

“What were you looking at then?”

“Nothing.”

His mother gave him a look before walking towards him. “Did something happen that I should know about?”

“No,” Albus tried to smile. “Mum, I’m fine. What did you want?”

She let out a breath through her nose. “Lily and James have both had their showers. I wanted to check if you had had yours?”

“No, I’ll go do that.”

“Albus—“

“Thanks for letting me know,” Albus grabbed his clothes and hurried towards the bathroom. He didn’t think he was in the mental state to explain everything about Delphi to his mother.

[witchofthesouls]

A small snippet of the TFP!Other!humans-into-Cybertronians AU: In which, the Autobots take out the kids to swim and Prime fishes for a wayward Seeker.

Perhaps Arcee would have been far more miffed being sidelined, but the scene and company made up for it.

Raf was a little heat-seeker, even when half-asleep. Blindly searching for greatest sources of warmth as his snout snuffled against her burning plating, his body rumbled as he snuggled against the expelling vents.

Jack, freshly toweled and fully exhausted by the day, had slipped into a nap with little fuss in her lap. Arcee idly stroked his back, right between his wingspan. Jack twitched, mumbling something, flicking his dark wings and shifted to a more comfortable position, further relaxing his usually tight grip on his field, letting it tentatively mingle into her in his strange, shy manner.

While Arcee was a dedicated post for sleepy sparklings, Optimus had stood still like a stone-faced statue in waist-deep water, staring deeply into the dark depths and hadn’t moved for the past twenty minutes. Ignoring the crows that decided that he was an excellent perch as they called out and poked about his frame.

Meanwhile, Buckhead and Bumblebee were further out, calling out for Miko from the other side of the oasis, splashing waves to hopefully force her out of her underwater bolthole. They tossed the Quint-looking plushie back and forth to see if it triggered the sparkling’s prey-drive. 

If anything it made it far more creepier, even with the distance she could still feel its multiple beady eyes as it bobbed, twinkling with malice as its fat, soft tentacles swayed with the ripples. One of the mechs pulled the thing before it propelled itself away.

The blackbirds immediately shrieked as twenty tons of metal moved fast-

Jack jolted awake -pulling back to himself in that jarring sensation of a mecha too far out of range or snuffed out- and was treated to sight of a wet Optimus with an equally wet Miko screeching defiance at her interrupted playtime.

The murder resettled around Arcee’s position, chirring and chortling.

“Nice catch there, Optimus,” she called out.

His words were drowned out by the unholy racket from thrashing sparkling.

:: Did- :: Bumblebee chimed in from the wayside. :: Did he just fished out her like a bear!? ::

“With all the things that happened recently, this is what stalls you?” Bulkhead laughed as he made his way back.

(But yes. Yes, he did. No, Arcee wasn’t going to outright confirm it.)

Miko decided to switch her assault and attempted to dig her claws into the soft cables of his wrists. In response, Optimus shook her like a hound with their unruly pup by the scruff. Water and debris flew wildly from both of them. Bulkhead got hit by stray pebbles. Sand splattered Optimus. A stray twig found itself next to a still dozing Raf -the little Predacon slept like a brick of concrete.

He stopped when Miko was limp and quiet. Optimus pulled her up, dangling her out, face to face and safe from clawing and kicking range.

The bear comparison was on point, especially with his expression.

“Do not do that again, little one,” Optimus intoned. When she made no noise, his engines idled as he drew out her name in warning. “Miko…”

Speckled with sand and underwater plant-life, she finally made an assenting chirp.

As punishment, Miko rode inside Optimus’ cab back to base, wrapped up tightly to form the planet’s angriest egg-shaped bundle.

The videos were Christmas card-worthy.

(Later on, Bumblebee made a GIF to pay homage to Angry Birds.)

[invisibleraven]

Okay I am prompting cowboys and aliens AU, pairing of your choice bc I am just so curious lolol

It all starts when Reggie's prize heffer goes missing.

It's annoying, because he hasn't heard of any cattle rustlers in the area, and the local kids learned not to mess with him after he levelled his shotgun at Betsy Gunderson's boy trying to bed the daughter of the local preacher in his hayloft.

So he stakes out his fields, waiting for the idiots who decided to steal from him. He's expecting a group of toughs, or maybe one lone guy out to pick off his herd. He just doesn't expect to get beamed up by a freaking UFO.

The space is sterile and white, and there's no sign of Reggie's wayward cow, or anything else for that matter. He's terrified, worrying about lasers and probes, and every other trope that sci-fi movies have taught him to expect.

Only there are no little green men, but a sentient pile of orangey goo that greet him, making weird squawking at him in a pitch that makes his fillings rattle. He holds his hands over his ears until there's some clicks and chirps, then finally a voice.

"Is that better? Can you understand me now?"

Reggie lowers his hands, and sees the ooze almost vibrating as the voice repeats itself. "Um yeah... thanks? What's going on here?"

"I am here to observe your species," the creature says. "No harm, just observe."

"Did you steal my cow?" Reggie asks accusingly.

The creature glows a little, then gives what Reggie assumes is a laugh, though it sounds like tinkling bells. "Yes, I am afraid I did do that. I have been accused of trying to make it what you call a pet?"

"Yeah, cows aren't pets," Reggie replies. "I would kind of like her back if it's all the same."

"Do you have more?' the creature asks. "I would love to observe them all together in a group."

"A herd? I mean yeah... as long as you aren't planning on keeping them," Reggie says. "Though... do you have another form? This one is liable to give people the willies."

"I am the willies?" the creature ruminates, then shift until he resembles a very attractive human with bronze coloured skin, long dark hair, and cheekbones you could slice bread on. He is also very very naked, so Reggie tries to focus on said cheekbones. "I am acceptable now?"

"Sure, let's... get you to my house for some clothes and I'll show you around the farm."

The creature, who insists on going by The Willies (which Reggie just shortens to Willie, much to it's delight) loves the farm. He's less fond of clothes, but Reggie has managed to get him into shorts and a crop top left over from his last boyfriend, which is good enough.

Willie coos over the cows, is terrified of the chickens, a bit cautious around the pigs and is fascinated by the horses. He's a bit of a disaster in the saddle the first time Reggie takes him riding, but he eventually gets the hang of it, whooping as Ferdinand canters alongside Old Red.

Reggie brings Willie into town, biting back a smile as his wonder at other people, the food, the sights and sounds. It's kind of like a kid at DisneyLand, but he also notices that Willie gets overwhelmed easily, nervous in crowds, so he takes it slow.

"Your world is almost too much for me I'm afraid," Willie says as they head back in Reggie's truck, and Reggie doesn't have the heart to tell him he's only seen a small town in Montana, far from the world.

"We can take it day by day," Reggie replies. "World isn't going anywhere."

"My mission won't allow me to linger here much longer I'm afraid," Willie replies. "I'm supposed to report back soon, with all my findings. They've given me all the extensions they can."

"Oh."

Reggie finds he's kind of sad about that. Over the past few weeks or so he's come to enjoy Willie's presence here. The farm is kind of lonely, and it was nice to have a friend around. "Do you think you might be able to come back? I think you'd love winter time."

Willie is silent for a while, biting his plush bottom lip and playing with his hair. It isn't until they're sat at the table, idly sipping on coffee and poking at a slice of pie that he speaks. "In truth, I do not want to go. I love it here, even if it is too much at times. But I have a duty..."

"I get that," Reggie replies. "You are always welcome to stay or come back if you want."

"It is very far, many parsecs," Willie admits. "I do not think I would be able to return in your lifetime if I went."

"Well that's a bummer," Reggie admits. "Can you give me one more day though?"

"That is the least I can do," Willie replies, squeezing his hand. "After you have given me so much."

Willie returns to his ship soon after-holding human form exhausts him after a while, so he must recharge in his natural state. Reggie takes the time to get everything ready, wanting Willie to go out on a bang.

The next morning, Willie appears in the kitchen, looking around and his wide eyed amazement is pure serotonin for Reggie. He's set the house up for Christmas, complete with the tree, a few present, even got the snow machine to cover the outside of the window and a bit of the lawn.

It's an amazing day, with Willie beaming the whole time. They eat and watch terrible holiday movies, and Willie is ecstatic over the funky socks Reggie got him, just in case he takes a form with feet again.

But as the hour grows later, they know time is running short. Willie says goodbye to the animals, giving Daisy the prize heffer a kiss to her snout, murmuring to her in clicks and whistles, but Reggie gets the sentiment.

"I'll miss you," he admits as they walk towards the place where the ship is hovering in the air, camouflaged by some technology that Reggie doesn't understand.

"And I you," Willie admits. "I think I shall keep the name you gave me, to remember you by."

Reggie give him a sad smile, and brings him in for a hug-their first, as Willie is very hesitant about touch. But this he seems to like, letting it linger. Until he pulls away, smiling at Reggie.

"Farewell Reggie."

"Take care Willie."

And then he's gone, the ship disappearing in a streak of light. Reggie takes his time heading back to the house, even longer dismantling the fake holiday. Finds the pack of socks still sitting on the floor by the couch and has a god cry about it.

But then there's a knock on the door, and when Reggie opens it, there's Willie, hesitant and shy. "Hi. I was wondering... if maybe you could tell me what pets we could have?"

Reggie cries even more, but pulls Willie in for another hug. "We can get a dog," he promises him.

And they do-and a whole lot more than that, in the end.