#so i just sort of push him with some toilet paper but halfway through the operation he retracted all his legs and has not moved since

[bobateastay]

jenga - s.mg

song mingi x gender neutral!reader

cw - non-idol!au, 99z friend group, fluff, friends to (sort of) lovers, alcohol mentions, puking

word count: 2.1k

a/n: this story + banner are bad, please don't @ me about it.

"Oh my God," you said, your voice halfway between a worried whisper and an amused snicker. You rubbed the back of Mingi's neck as he heaved into the toilet bowl for the third time during the past half hour, leaning his head against his arm that was resting on the edge of the toilet once he was done. You sighed softly, pushing his hair away from his forehead. "You feeling okay? Want some water?"

Mingi squeezed his eyes shut and nodded as best as he could through how tipsy he was.

"Water sounds good," he mumbled, your hand only just catching him by his forehead before his head could tip forward into the toilet.

"Careful," you whispered, picking up the glass of water San had brought to the bathroom earlier and holding it out to Mingi. "Come on, lift your head."

It took a minute for Mingi to do as you'd asked, lifting his head with a loud, wet sniffle. You shifted closer to him, your leg resting over his as you cupped his jaw with one hand and held the glass of water to his lips with the other. Mingi seemed to get the message quicker this time, his hand resting over yours to lift the glass and drink from it. 

"Slowly," you warned, wiping away the water that spilled from the corner of his lips with your thumb. Mingi made a small hum of affirmation and swallowed one more mouthful of water before he pushed the glass away from him, his eyes a little more concentrated than they had been a few minutes ago when they landed on your face. You smiled and set the glass aside, patting his thigh gently. "You okay?"

"Yeah," he mumbled. He looked down at where your leg was resting over his and his already flushed cheeks turned even pinker. "I feel dizzy."

"Of course you do, you big dumbass" you said with a small snort. "I'm never letting you drink that much again."

"It's not my fault I always lose at Jenga," he whined, words slurring together towards the end of the sentence. "And San fills the shot glasses too much!"

"Yeah, yeah," you hummed, laughing at the pout that formed on his lips. You reached past him to tear out a few squares of toilet paper, taking hold of his face again. "Stay still for me."

Mingi nodded, leaning all of his weight into your hand as you cleaned off the spit and snot around his mouth. He hummed appreciatively (or maybe he was just trying to sing along to the music playing outside of the bathroom) and shut his eyes. His face looked so soft when he relaxed like this that you kept holding his face even after you'd finished cleaning him up. 

It was a shame that he was drunk right now, otherwise it might've been the perfect time to finally ask him out or kiss him. You sighed and threw the dirty paper in the trash, rubbing your thumb back and forth against his cheek.

"Come on, let's get you to bed," you hummed softly. Mingi only grunted, making no move to get up.

"Just wait a second," he mumbled, squeezing his eyes shut and inhaling deeply.

"Are you gonna puke again?" you asked, giving his cheek a gentle squeeze. 

"No, no," he whined. "Just wait."

"Alright," you murmured, holding his face for a while longer. Admittedly, you didn't mind sitting with him even though you were missing out on the (very loud) drinking game that was going on at Yunho's kitchen table. Aside from the gross smell of all the whiskey Mingi had downed earlier making a reappearance, it wasn't that bad. 

Almost five minutes passed before you noticed that Mingi was most definitely falling asleep, and you deemed it time to get him into bed. 

"Mingi, let's go," you said, moving your hand to squeeze his jaw. The skin of his neck was feverish and you realised with a roll of your eyes that he was going to wake up hungover. You patted the side of his neck and smiled when he opened his eyes. "Let's go, before you puke again."

"Okay," he murmured this time, following your lead and standing up on wobbly legs. He watched sheepishly while you flushed the toilet and cleaned the edges of the toilet bowl, pressing his lips together into an apologetic smile when you finally stood and offered your arm for him to hold onto. He ignored your arm, wrapping an arm around your shoulders instead and leaning into you slightly while you steered him out into the living room. 

"Yunho," you called out, only barely catching his attention with how focused he was on the stack of Jenga blocks the whole group was glaring at. 

"Is Mingi okay?" he asked, looking back and forth between the two of you and only just managing to bite back a giggle.

"Yeah, he's all good," you replied, giving Mingi's waist a small squeeze. "Can he sleep in your bed? I know he was supposed to be on the sofa bed but-"

"It's cool," Yunho said, waving a hand dismissively as he tried to divide his attention between you and Wooyoung pulling a block out of the base of the tower. "As long as he's okay."

You nodded, steering Mingi away and out of the living room just in time to avoid the full volume of the stack of Jenga blocks falling down and the yelling that immediately followed. Mingi, however, still seemed bothered by the noise if the way he dropped his head down against yours was anything to go by. You laughed, shutting the door to Yunho's bedroom behind you and lowering Mingi rather unceremoniously onto Yunho's bed. 

"There we go," you whispered, running your fingers through his hair. "How's your stomach?" 

"'S okay," he mumbled, flopping down onto Yunho's bed. He looked boneless with the way he immediately relaxed into the bed, eyes shut and chest rising and falling evenly. You took a step back towards the door to leave, only for Mingi to slap his hand down against the mattress. "Stay, please."

You smiled.

"Sorry, I thought you were asleep," you whispered, sitting down on the edge of the mattress beside his hand. 

"Can you stay after I fall asleep too?" he asked, lifting his hand once again and letting it flop down into your lap. You took his middle finger in one of your hands and squeezed it gently.

"Yeah sure," you murmured. "But move over, there's no space like this."

Mingi whined but moved anyway, lying down on his side to make room for you. He let out what you hoped was a content grunt once you were beside him, his eyes falling shut and body going limp once again.

"I'm sorry you had to watch me puke," he whispered, his voice barely audible. 

"It's okay," you reassured him. "You can just take care of me next time I'm drunk."

"Makes sense," he sighed. He held out a hand to you and smiled when you took it. "Thank you."

"Don't worry about it," you replied, giving his hand a squeeze. "Go to sleep."

Mingi hummed softly and then seemed to give up on staying awake, his hand relaxing in yours. You fondly rubbed your thumb back and forth over his knuckles until you lulled yourself to sleep as well.

Surprisingly enough you didn't wake up to Mingi puking again or to him nursing a headache with painkillers and leftover orange juice. Instead, you woke up to the clattering of Jenga blocks and a hushed 'fuck' coming from Yunho's kitchen. You made your way to the kitchen, narrowing your eyes at Mingi as he stacked up the Jenga blocks to form a tower again. 

"What are you doing?" you asked with a snort, shutting the kitchen door behind you to stop the noise from reaching the living room where the rest of your friends were still sleeping. 

Mingi's eyes widened, mouth dropping open slightly when he turned to look at you. 

"Practising," he said, using one of the blocks to point at the tower. "So I'm not the only one drinking next time." 

You couldn't help the giggle that left you as you took the seat beside Mingi, pushing the blocks scattered on the table closer to him. 

"How's your head?" you asked.

"Hurts a little," he said with a short nod.

"Stomach?"

"Empty," he sighed. "I'm hungry as fuck."

"Why didn't you eat anything? It's Yunho's place, you can take whatever you want," you laughed. Mingi rolled his eyes. 

"I know. I wanted to wait for you," he mumbled, placing down the last block before turning to smile at you. "He has chocolate milk powder if you want to make some."

You smiled, feeling your cheeks heat up as you reached out to smooth down Mingi's bed head.

"Yeah that sounds good," you said, returning the bright grin that spread across Mingi's face. 

You sat at the kitchen table while Mingi poured out two glasses of milk, absentmindedly fiddling with the blocks and watching his expression. You noticed the way his tongue peeked out between his teeth as he carried the cups over to the table, setting them down carefully before he brought over the bag of chocolate powder and a spoon for each of you. 

"Thank you," you hummed, scooping two heaped teaspoons of the powder into your glass before pushing the bag across to Mingi. He nodded, tending to his own glass with utmost concentration.

"Thank you for taking care of me yesterday," he said, eyes fixed on where he was stirring the milk in his glass rather than meeting yours. "And staying with me the whole night."

"It's no big deal," you said with a shrug. You clinked your glass against his and sipped from it, Mingi following your lead. He frowned slightly as he set down his glass again. 

"I'm serious," he grumbled, flicking at the base of the Jenga tower. "It's still San's fault I drank so much though."

You snorted, sliding your glass away from you and holding out your hand to Mingi. He took it in his and laced your fingers together. 

"It was cute before you fell asleep, when you were just sort of out of it," you said, giving his hand a squeeze. Mingi huffed.

"I'm pretty sure I'm cuter when I'm not drunk," he joked, squeezing your hand back. You bit back a smile, teeth digging into your bottom lip as you admired his sleepy expression. 

"Yeah, you're cute all the time," you confirmed. Mingi's cheeks turned pink and he huffed. 

"Yeah right," he murmured, pulling a Jenga block out of the tower and setting it down on the top. You smiled and gave his hand another squeeze.

"I'm glad you're feeling decent. I figured you'd be hungover as fuck," you snorted.

"Nah, you took good care of me," he said, smiling at you.

"Always," you replied. You looked over how soft his features were now in the morning light filtering into the kitchen, reminiscent of the way he'd looked last night, and felt your heart squeeze in your chest. A small voice in the back of your hand reminded you that he wasn’t drunk right now, and he was just as sweet as he always was. You spoke before you could think much more of it. "Do you want to go on a date sometime?"

Mingi's eyes widened, followed by his grip on your hand tightening. 

"Yes," he blurted out without missing a beat, grinning at you immediately after. 

You grinned back at him.

"Okay," you said, laughing softly. Mingi's lips stayed in that bright, warm smile that you loved so much, and another question popped into your head. "Can I kiss you?"

Mingi's grip tightened a little more when he nodded.

"Yes."

You leaned in and found that his lips tasted like chewable painkillers and chocolate milk when they met yours. The skin on his jaw was warm when you reached out to touch it but not feverish. It was just how you'd expected it to be.

Minus the sound of crashing Jenga blocks when your knee hit the table thanks to an uncalculated shift of your chair closer to Mingi. You both startled, your noses knocking against each other and shoulders drawing upwards in surprise before you both relaxed into a fit of giggles. 

"Sorry," you whispered, shifting closer to Mingi more carefully this time. 

"No big deal," he reassured you. His eyes flitted back and forth between the blocks on the table and your eyes, his lips forming a small smile. "I’m going to beat you all next time we play."

You rolled your eyes fondly and pressed a shorter kiss to his lips, your heart skipping a beat at the feeling of him smiling against your lips.

"Yeah right. Build the tower again and I’ll show you how to do it."

.

taglist: @lovely-ateez @sunsethw4 @seonghwanotes @xirenex @bcbataro @peanutpmingib @sannierio @ateezinmymind @pseudosoobin @tohokuu @byeolofseonghwa @daisyboyclub

[anonymousfiction211]

Handcuffed together

Summary: Loki and you hate each other, but are both part of the Avengers. They are fed up with you two fighitng all the time and hancuff you together, so you can learn to tolerate each other.  Word count: 3.132 words Warnings: Smut, dubious consent (it is consentual, but not specificly said), angry Loki, degrading  A/N: Based on a idea from @the-best-phineas. Hope you like it! If anyone has an idea, or suggestion just let me know :)

Click here for chapter 2 Click here for chapter 3

With a loud click the handcuff around your wrist closed. You immediately tried to unlock the cuff, but it wouldn’t give. “Like that would work” Loki commented. You gave him a glare but turned your attention back to Tony. “Seriously, this is not necessary. Give us another chance” you begged him. “Look, we are all sick of the two of you constant fighting, it is effecting the team and the missions we’re on. And all that magic-crap makes everything worse. So, until the two of you can tolerate each other you’re cuffed together. And you’re both not allowed on missions before you finish this one” You sighed heavily but knew that arguing more was futile.

“I must say, you’re taking this better than I thought you would” Tony said to Loki. “Escaping handcuffs isn’t that difficult, Stark” Loki replied. Tony secured the cuff on Loki’s wrist. He then walked hastily to the door. “Oh, one more thing. These handcuffs are designed so you can’t use your powers” Tony said and quickly exit the room. Loki immediately tried to escape his cuff with magic, but nothing was happening. You tried as well, but got the same result, nothing. You met his eyes, which were full of anger. “I thought escaping from handcuffs wasn’t that difficult” you said sarcastically. Loki didn’t break eye contact. The anger was radiating off him, you swore you could physically feel it. He didn’t say anything but turned around and walked away. When you didn’t move he yanked at his side of the cuffs and you were forced to take a few steps in his direction. “What the… LOKI..” you started angrily, but he didn’t react. He kept walking while ignoring you. Right now, you had no other choice than to follow him, trying to keep up.

He pushed his bedroom door open with so much force, you thought it would break. He walked towards his bookcase and was taking out different books, flipping through them. You had enough and yanked at the handcuffs, making the book in his hand fall on the ground. “STOP. WHAT DO YOU THINK YOU’RE DOING” you yelled at him. He gave you his angriest look, the one he said he reserved specially for you, because he never met anyone who was as stupid and annoying as you were. And that included his oaf of a brother. “I am finding a way to free myself from you” he spat. “So, just stand there and try not to get in the way” he turned his attention back to the bookcase. “You can’t just walk away and drag me along” you grumbled. “Apparently I can” he said with a sly small on his face. You yanked at the cuffs again, making Loki drop his book again. He turned to face you, grabbed your throat with the cuffed hand and pushed you hard against the wall behind you. Your scream was cut off by his other hand covering your mouth. He wasn’t chocking you, but the tightness off his grip wasn’t comfortable enough for you to relax. Your whole body felt like it was on fire, which was weird. It shouldn’t.

He pulled his hand away from your mouth after standing there for what felt like eternity. “Look, I’m much stronger than you are. So, I’m going to find a way to free myself. The only thing you have to do is staying out of my way” he growled. He let go of your throat, but still stood extremely close to you. “Yeah, this whole act doesn’t scare me” your voice hoarser than you would have liked. Loki chuckled “Look, when you had your powers you had some sort of defense, even tough it was weak. Without your powers.. you don’t stand a chance against me” You slapped him hard across his face. His face turned sideways, but his cheek didn’t show any red mark. He slowly turned his head to face you, giving you a wicked smile that sends chills trough your body. He didn’t say anything, just stared at you. But both of you knew, you had just proofed his point.

The rest of the morning you two sat on his bed. Loki was busy reading different books and he sometimes grumbled in annoyance. You were playing a game on your phone, trying to ignore him. Loki snaped his book shut and threw it across the room. You looked up from your phone “I assume the search is not going well then?” you couldn’t help but chuckle a bit at his frustration. “Just shut up, it’s not like you are any useful” he replied. He sighed and laid down on his bed. His put his cuffed hand on his chest, which meant that your hand also touched his chest. When he felt your hand, he puts his hand down beside him, pretending it didn’t happen. “We could pretend to like each other for this afternoon, and we surely will be free before dinner” you said. Loki didn’t reply. He sighed heavily “Fine” he muttered. He got up from the bed, which mean that you had to crawl to his side to get up as well. When it took to long he grabbed your arm and pulled you to your feet in front of him. Not anticipating this move, you stumbled and fell into his chest. His free hand immediately grabbed you by your hip to steady you. A weird feeling was spreading from your hip through your body, you couldn’t quite place it. When he dropped his hand you still felt his touch. “Shall we?” he said. You nodded and followed him towards the living room. But there was no one there. Loki walked towards the kitchen, with you close behind him. There was a note on the kitchen table.

Loki and (Y/N), The team had to leave for a mission. We will be back in two days. Don’t kill each other. - Natasha

Loki crumbled up the piece of paper and threw it through the kitchen. “Great, just great. Two day stuck with you” he said angrily. “Lucky me, two days in the presence of a god” you replied with as much sarcasm as you could. Loki gave you an angry glare, which you ignored. He stormed out of the kitchen, yet again dragging you along. After a few steps you yanked at the cuffs and halted in your track. “Look, we both want nothing more than the be free of each other. But we’re at least stuck with each other for two day, so how about some rules?” you started. Loki didn’t say anything but nodded.

“First, discussing where we are going, no more dragging me along and doing whatever you want” you started.

“No talking unless absolutely necessary” Loki replied.

“No more threats, or throat grabbing”

“No more punching”

“How about no touching of any form?” you said.

“Fine by me. Also, no more singing. You are really bad at it”

“No more insulting me!!” you half yelled

“Don’t make insulting you so easy then!”

There was a long silence. “We sleep in my room” Loki said. “IF you behave this day, I MIGHT consider letting you sleep in the bed” you rolled your eyes at that comment. “I accept that we sleep in your room, but only IF I sleep in the bed too. Otherwise, we sleep in my room” you said. He smirked “If you weren’t so insufferable I might even enjoy this little negotiation” You couldn’t help but smile at his comment “same for me” you replied.

The rest of the afternoon went by rather peacefully. Loki was reading books and you were watching a series on tv. There was one awkward moment when you had to use the toilet, but you had to admit that Loki did his best to give you all the privacy you needed. So, you did the same when he had to go. Your stomach started to rumble, you were getting hungry. “Shall we order food?” you asked Loki. After a very long discussion you both finally agreed on Chinese food. In hindsight it wasn’t the best idea to eat Chinese food when you only have one hand. During dinner, your hands sometimes touched each other, by accident. But every time you felt his hand against yours spark like electricity shot through your body. You suddenly forgot how to breathe and didn’t know where this was coming from. You were hoping Loki didn’t notice and try to ignore the feeling.

After dinner things basically stayed the same. You put on a movie and halfway through Loki decided to watch it too. But none of you said a word to each other. After the movie you were getting tired. “Can we go to bed?” you asked. Loki nodded and the two of you walked to his bedroom. That was when things got a little awkward. You both turned your back towards each other when the other undressed. Loki had pulled down his pants and his shirt, which was now hanging on the chain of the cuffs. You were currently undressing yourself, getting rid of your own pants and pulling your T-shirt over your head, hanging it next to Loki’s on the chain. You currently were in a bra and thong, mentally slapping yourself for not thinking this through this morning. Worst off all was that it was in dark green, which was a colour you wore often before Loki joined the team. When Loki turned around you saw his eyes roam your body, suddenly you felt extremely exposed. You noticed that Loki was more muscular than you thought, if he were any other man on the planet you would have thought his body was attractive. You cleared your throat, snapping Loki’s eyes to meet yours. If you didn’t know any better you thought you saw a slight blush on his cheeks.

He walked towards his doors and turned down the light. His room was completely dark, and you couldn’t see a thing anymore. You heard Loki walk and felt your hand pulled towards his direction. You were hesitant to move, not wanting to trip or bump into something. “Why are you not moving?” Loki asked annoyed. “I- I can’t see a thing” you replied. Loki walked closer to you, his free arm grabbed your shoulder, and he took your cuffed hand with his. You flinched from the sudden touch, not expecting it. “Relax, I’m not going to hurt you” he said. “I know, you just startled me” you replied. He guided you towards his bed and let you get in first. “Thanks” you whispered. “Just go to sleep” he replied. But sleep did not come easily. It was difficult to find a comfortable position, because of the handcuffs. But somehow you managed.

The light shining through the curtains woke you up. Loki was still fast asleep, he looked peaceful. He was laying on his side, facing you with his free hand underneath his head. His cuffed hand was on top of yours. You slowly moved your hand from underneath his. His eyes snapped open, and he looked at you. You were both silent. He cleared his throat “Breakfast?” he asked, you nodded. You both decided it was a good idea to make pancakes. However, cooking with handcuffs on was more difficult than anticipated. Especially since Loki wasn’t much of a cook. You got frustrated and told him to just get out of your way. You finally had the batter how you wanted and picked up the bowl to bring it near the stove. Loki, wanting to get out of your way, choose the wrong direction making the two of you bump into each other. You lost your grip on the bowl and it fell on the ground.

“Seriously?!” you asked angrily. “It’s not my fault you don’t watch where you’re going” Loki replied equally angry. “Why are you incapable of just admitting you’re not perfect and say sorry?”

“Why do you always look to me when someone has to take blame for your actions?” he spat back.

“You are the most insufferable person I’ve ever met!”

“God” Loki corrected.

“What?”

“I’m not a person, I’m a God!”

“Some God you are, you can’t free yourself, you can’t even make your own pancakes” you replied sarcastically.

“I suggest you chose your next words very carefully” he warned you.

You being you, decided to ignore the warning. “You might think yourself a God, but you are the only one who does” you said, knowing it would get some sort of reaction out of him. Loki used to cuffs to spin you around, your back against his chest. His cuffed arm was around your throat and his free hand around your stomach, holding you in place. “If you don’t shut up know, I make you” he whispered in your ear with a dangerous tone in his voice. Your whole body felt on fire, yet again. Before you knew that you did it, you pressed your ass against his groin. “Oh, you like this don’t you?” he purred in your ear. “Shut up and let me go” you said, trying to squirm out his grip. “No, you want this” he said.

“I don’t” you replied.

“That’s a lie”

“Like you would know. You may have the title God of Lies, but like we established... you’re no God” you laughed.

“I don’t need to be the God of Lies to know. You heart rate is up, your pupils yesterday dilated when you saw me shirtless, and your voice is higher. And the best thing is, your needy body betrays you” he laughed back.

You had enough. You kicked the back of your foot against his shin, but Loki didn’t even flinch. “Bad choice, kitten” he said. Without warning his teeth sunk into your neck. Instead of making your scream it made you moan louder than you would have liked. His hand on your stomach travelled downwards, going straight for your core. He cupped your heat with his hand and one of his fingers strokes between your folds. Revealing that you indeed were turned on, and already extremely wet. “Hmm.. such a needy slut you are” he hummed. You wanted to protest, you should protest, but alle words had escaped you. Your breathe was ragged and you knew you what was going to happen.

Loki spun you around, pushing your upper body on the kitchen counter. He held his cuffed hand in your hair, forcing your hand behind your back and your head down. You tried to squirm away, but Loki wouldn’t budge. “We both know you can’t escape and we both know you don’t want to. So now I’m going to fuck you, maybe you think twice next time you talk to me like that” he growled. His free hand hovered over the buttons of your pants and in one smooth motion he opened them. He pulled your pants down, caressing your butt. Goosebumps were starting to form, and you felt yourself grow wetter from his touch. Loki had freed his erection through his zipper, still wearing his pants. He stroked his shaft up and down your slid. Slightly dipping through your folds, coating himself in your wetness.

Without warning he thrusted inside of you, making you cry out in pleasure. He started thrusting in and almost out of you in a very quick pace. His cock filled you up completely, even reaching your g-spot when he was fully inside of you. You started to rock your hips, meeting his pace. “That’s it, good girl” he praised you. It made you blush and clench your walls around his cock. He left darkly at your reaction. You felt your orgasm starting to build up inside of you. Loki’s animalistic way of fucking you was becoming too much. Right before you reached your high you moaned out loud “Oh my God” Loki stilted deep inside of you. “What did you say, darling?” he mused. “I- .. just keep going” you replied, hoping he would let you come undone. He leaned his upper body over yours, his lips right by your ear. “Just repeat it, if you want to come of course” he purred. You didn’t respond and thought about giving up your climax. Loki slowly moved pulled out and back inside of you. He knew you were close and was using that against you at the moment. “What’s wrong, kitten? Usually you’re so talkative” he chuckled. He was keeping his slow pace, keeping you on the edge but not pushing you over it.

You groaned in frustration. “Fine, I said oh my God” you said annoyed. Loki picked his pace up slightly, but nowhere near how fast you needed him. “So, you do admit that I’m a God?” even tough you couldn’t see his face, you just knew he had his signature smirk on his face. “Yes” you said to gritted teeth. Loki just laughed “Now, was that so difficult?” before you could answer he was thrusting at a fast pace. To your surprise Loki himself was starting to moan slightly, muttering things under his breath about how tight you were and how good you feel around his cock. It didn’t take long before you reached your climax. When you reached your high you couldn’t help but cry out “Oh my God Loki” adding fuel to his thrusts. He came right after you.

He collapsed on top of you, leaving feather light kisses on your neck. He pulled out of you and handed you a kitchen towel to clean yourself up. You pulled up your underwear and pants, not being able to look Loki in his eyes. You grabbed another bowl and started on a new pancake batter. Loki stood right behind you, hands on either side of you. He was nuzzling his head in the crook of your neck. “If I knew this would shut you up, I would’ve done it much sooner” he mused. “That was a one-time thing, don’t get any ideas. I still hate you” you replied. “Oh no, new rule. Every time you anger me, I’m going to fuck you like the slut you are” You knew it shouldn’t, but you felt yourself get excited again. “It’s only for a day and a half, so I just won’t make you angry” you replied dryly. Loki laughed “Kitten, even if we’re free from these cuffs I am still going to fuck you. You laid with a God and now you’re mine” You scoffed “That’s not how it works” Loki pulled you closer against his chest and cupped your breast with his free hand. He chuckled when you gasped and closed your eyes. “It is. By the time, the team is back, you will worship me like you should”

Click here for chapter 2

[tennessoui]

i really am just so excited for part two of the roadtrip au and knowing it might be from obi-wan's perspective??? seeing obi-wan fawn over anakin while anakin dotes on him?? i'm losing my mind.

hey!!! bless!!!! i know i said it would be part 1, part 2, part 3, but i started writing part 2 and it's like already 2.2k long and they're just in Pennsylvania so i think we should all start thinking of this story as part 1 (finished, posted), ARC 2 (very long, is in segments, depending on what people wanna see and what road trip shenanigans i can think up), and part 3 (tbd)

anyway here's the 2.2k (squick: a/b/o, mpreg)

“Uh, sir? Are you...alright?”

That’s the gas station attendant. Obi-Wan barely resists the urge to thunk his head on the side of the bathroom stall. The only thing stopping him is how absolutely unsanitary it would be, and he already feels dirty enough. He pulls a few more squares of toilet paper from the dispenser and wipes at his mouth.

Of all the pregnancy symptoms he hates, he thinks morning sickness is the one he hates the most. And it’s the one that seems to be, for some reason, sticking around the longest.

He’d never even known how much of a misnomer morning sickness is, but it’s not like it’s only happening in the morning. He’ll feel nauseous halfway through the day, mid-afternoon, early evening.

His doctor and close friend at the hospital, Bant, had assured him this was normal and nothing to worry about. But it’s hard not to worry about it, especially when he lives with an Alpha who worries about everything.

“Just fine, thank you,” Obi-Wan says politely as he flushes the toilet and leaves before he can watch his breakfast spiral down and disappear. That’ll only make him feel even more sick.

The girl wrings her hands as she watches him wash his, and he has to take pity on her. She can’t be older than eighteen. “Morning sickness,” he tells her, placing a hand on the virtually unnoticeable swell of his belly.

“Oh!” she says. Obi-Wan fights the urge to grimace when he sees her eyes dart down to his unmarked neck. He knows how it looks. He knows how it sounds. “Sorry, sir, I didn’t mean to--”

“It’s quite alright,” he says. It’s not, but it is. Obi-Wan doesn’t want to have this conversation, doesn’t want to talk to this girl anymore. They’re passing through a small town in central Pennsylvania. He’s a pregnant, unmated, thirty-eight year old male omega. A rarity. A talking point. He doesn’t want to talk to her, he wants--

There’s a loud knock on the door to the bathroom. “Obi-Wan? Are you alright? Is there someone in there with you? I thought I heard voices. Obi-Wan? I’m coming in, Obi-Wan.”

Anakin.

Obi-Wan gets halfway through drying his hands before Anakin’s there, crowding him against the sink and nosing at his face and neck.

“Sir, this is a bathroom for omegas only!” the gas station attendant protests, but Anakin growls at her.

As much as the pregnancy has made Obi-Wan lose parts of himself to his Omegan side, it’s been ten times worse for Anakin for some reason. As far as Alphas go, Anakin’s always been a thoughtful, respectful one. Quick to anger, perhaps, but never violent or suspicious.

Now it’s like everyone in the world has done something to personally offend Anakin. Everyone but Obi-Wan.

If he didn’t feel such a burning, unignorable need to get to Seattle, Obi-Wan would have called the whole trip off weeks ago.

But he couldn’t then and he definitely can’t now, not when they’ve both taken the time off of work and Obi-Wan’s let his doctor know he’ll be out of the state and they’re already in Pennsylvania.

He’ll just let Anakin do whatever he needs to do to feel alright with taking a pregnant, unmated omega across the country. It’s not as if it’s a hardship to put up with all the scentings and hugs and looming and protectiveness.

Quite the opposite, actually.

Which just makes Obi-Wan feel even more guilty, the way he’s using Anakin like this. His dearest, closest friend, who is helping him in such an amazing way, and every time he touches him, it’s all Obi-Wan can do to not arch up into the touch.

He wishes he could blame it on the pregnancy hormones, the way his instincts are going haywire to keep an alpha--any alpha--close. But it’s not. It’s Anakin. It’s the fact that Obi-Wan is hopelessly, irreversibly in love with the alpha.

The touches and the scenting don’t mean what he wants them to. It doesn’t mean anything, the way Anakin pushes his shirts and sweaters to Obi-Wan’s chest and watches him put them on. He’s an observant man, his alpha. He knows Obi-Wan likes wearing his scent now that he’s pregnant. It’s comforting.

So even though it doesn’t mean anything at all, the way Anakin’s hands roam over his waist and stomach and hips as he growls at the poor gas station attendant, Obi-Wan has to fight to not push back into the touches, to not scent him in return.

He’s afraid once he does, he won’t be able to stop. The thought of it, of marking the beautiful, strong, virile alpha with his smell, is too addicting to ever risk trying.

“I’m fine, I’m fine. It’s just a bit of morning sickness,” he says lightly, touching Anakin’s chest gently. “She was just checking up on me.”

Anakin glares at the girl and starts to herd Obi-Wan out of the bathroom. “Not hers to check up on,” he mutters, hands latching onto Anakin’s hips and guiding him through the aisles of brightly colored chips and candy.

Obi-Wan thinks that for both of their sakes he should remind Anakin that he’s not his to check up on either, but he doesn’t want to, not when he can pretend for a little bit longer.

“I think I would like to lie down in the back for a bit,” he says, holding his stomach. “Just until we get out of this state.”

Anakin agrees immediately, like he knew he would. “Okay, Obi,” he murmurs, opening the car door for him. They’d laid down their suitcases in the wells behind the two front seats, and Anakin had thrown a couple of blankets over the entire area to make a sort of makeshift nest for Obi-Wan to sleep in should he want to.

They’ve only been driving for four hours, but Obi-Wan already wants to. He’s painfully on edge.

He hadn’t understood how hard it would be to convince his hindbrain and body to leave the safety of their apartment, but all he wants now is to nest somewhere safe for him and the baby. It would have been impossible to do this without Anakin.

“Alright,” the alpha says. “Um. Wait. Here.”

He shucks off his sweatshirt, a faded college one that Obi-Wan’s been coveting with his eyes since Anakin had put it on this morning. “Oh, dear one, no,” he forces himself to say anyway. “It’s December. You need a sweatshirt.”

“I’ll turn up the heat,” Anakin holds it out insistently, stubbornly. “Take it, come on.”

Obi-wan can only make himself hesitate for a second more before he’s snatching the soft fabric that smells like sunlight linen honeydew out of his hands and holding it greedily to his chest. “Alright.”

Under the weight of the alpha’s watchful eyes, Obi-Wan crawls into the backseat and curls up with his head diagonal from the driver’s seat. He thinks it’ll be nice to wake up and see Anakin’s profile whenever he wants to without additional shifting.

“Oh shit,” Anakin curses suddenly. “I was going to buy a coffee.” The alpha pauses, clearly torn between going back inside and not wanting to leave the omega alone in the car. But Obi-Wan knows Anakin, and he needs his coffee.

“Oh,” he says as if he’s just remembering something himself, “can you get me one of those bananas on the counter? I think they’re good for babies.”

That, obviously, changes everything for Anakin who straightens instantly. “Bananas are good for babies,” he declares, nodding his head before narrowing his eyes. “Would you...can I lock the door? I won’t be long. Just for safety.”

Obi-Wan blinks and purses his lips to stop his little smile. His alpha can be so silly. Safety. In the middle of the afternoon in rural Pennsylvania. “Okay, alpha,” he agrees before he even realizes that he really shouldn’t be calling Anakin alpha. Especially not when the other man always reacts so strongly to it.

Case in point, he thinks to himself sadly as Anakin’s hand spasms on the car door handle before he slams it and hustles away, almost at a run.

With a long sigh, he flops back down into his nest and squirms until he gets comfortable. There’s a pillow close to his hand that he hugs to his chest when he realizes it’s Anakin’s pillow from his bed at home. It smells amazing, a mix of both of them together.

Ever since he’d told the alpha he was pregnant, Obi-Wan’s fallen asleep in Anakin’s bed more often than not. It’s a comfort thing, one that Obi-Wan feels intensely guilty about. Surely if he keeps being so clingy and whiny and Omegan, Anakin will get sick of him.

And this is just the beginning of the pregnancy. He knows rationally that Anakin loves him as a friend, a brother, but how long is that love going to last if Obi-Wan can’t get a handle on his goddamn hormones? Anakin hadn’t signed up for any of this. It’s not even his pup. How much is Obi-Wan willing to put him through just because he can’t imagine a life without the alpha in it?

Wouldn’t it be the best thing for the both of them to cut their losses now? Bail and Breha had told Obi-Wan he could move in with them for the duration of the pregnancy if he needed to. The only thing that stopped him from saying yes immediately had been the hope that Anakin would be willing to stay with him, keep living with him even after he’d fucked up so much.

And the alpha, by some miracle, hadn’t left, hadn’t moved out. But Obi-Wan can’t shake the thought that he will soon, that this will all get to be too much. Obi-Wan’s omega whimpers at the back of his mind at the idea that one day the alpha will be gone.

The scent of distressed omega fills the car as Obi-Wan feels his bottom lip start to wobble.

Alright, the influx of hormones that are wreaking havoc on his emotions is probably the pregnancy symptom he hates the most. But morning sickness is still up there, too.

He sniffs into Anakin’s college sweatshirt and tries to think happy thoughts. He shouldn’t make Anakin worry about his emotions when he’s already spending so much time worried about his physical health.

How much is Obi-Wan going to take advantage of Anakin’s kindness?

The doors unlock with a beep, signaling his alpha’s return to the car.

It doesn’t take Anakin even a second to catch onto Obi-Wan’s recent spiral of emotion, but at least he won’t know why unless Obi-Wan tells him.

“Obi?” he asks frantically, as soon as he opens the car door. “Obi, are you alright? Did something happen? Did someone see you--?”

“Put the coffee down before you spill it,” Obi-Wan instructs after peeking out of his sweatshirt haven. “I’m alright, Anakin. It’s just the hormones. I’m sorry.”

“Don’t apologize,” Anakin shakes his head. “You don’t have anything to be sorry for.”

The statement pulls a wry smile from Obi-Wan. “Oh, I can think of a few things,” he murmurs, touching his belly with a pointed, gentle hand. Before Anakin can say anything about that, he continues quickly. “I was just wondering about something, I’m fine, really. Really.”

And then, knowing he shouldn’t but also knowing it’ll distract Anakin enough from this line of questioning, he tilts his head back to expose his neck and says, “Can we drive, alpha?”

The coffee cup still clutched in Anakin’s hands bursts open under the force of his grip. He really should have put it down.

Anakin curses up a storm as he shakes the hot liquid off of his skin, and Obi-Wan sits up worriedly. Anakin was bothered so much by Obi-Wan calling him that that he accidentally hurt himself. No more, the omega resolves. He can take a hint.

“Are you alright?” he asks, grabbing at Anakin’s hand to examine the red skin.

“I’m fine!” Anakin yelps, jumping away. “I just--I’m just going to go wash this off. Um. And get more coffee.”

He slams the door shut, and Obi-Wan wilts as he watches him go. He can’t even follow after him because Anakin’s locked the doors with his car key. He’s done enough already.

“Oh baby,” he tells his stomach. “I don’t think I’m ever going to have that alpha figured out.”

The baby is still and, of course, silent, but Obi-Wan takes comfort in their presence anyway. They can’t leave him. Not yet, at least.

Gingerly, he maneuvers his way out of his nest so he can reach his messenger bag he’d left in the foot of his passenger seat. It takes some finangling, but finally he’s able to fish out his headphones. As he resettles into his nest, surrounded on all sides by Anakin’s scent, he notices the bunch of bananas thrown in the driver’s seat.

Obi-Wan snorts at his silly alpha, but can’t deny that he’s touched at the same time.

It’s extremely easy to find the track he wants to listen to, what with how often he listens to it these days. Sometimes, it’s the only thing that can get him to fall asleep.

He pulls up the downloaded homemade album Anakin had given him for Christmas four years back. When he presses play, his alpha’s deep melodic voice spills into his ears.

“Whan that Aprill with his shoures soote, the droghte of March hath perced to the roote…”

Of course he can’t be sure, but he’s fairly certain he’s asleep by the time Anakin comes back to the car.

[joshslater]

Foreign Exchange

This is a re-release since the previous version got blocked for unknown reasons. I’m not going to bother to find yet another photo that doesn’t break the content rule, so you’ll have to imagine the lower part of a slim, white guy wearing red trunks with the outline of a massive penis. Or read the original story and more on my Patreon.

It all started in what was supposed to be a one week stay in Cape Town. I don't know what the airline had smoked, but a round trip from Europe sold for almost nothing during a few hours. Probably some clerical error in the pricing department. Whatever the reason, I shuffled some tasks around and manage to arrange myself a one week spring vacation. I had no idea of what to expect. Only thing I knew about South Africa was the Kruger Park, the worlds first heart transplant, excellent red wines, Apartheid and Mandela.

It started out amazing. I found a cheap place in Green Point, close to lots of the tourist places, and started to drink my way through South African wine bottles. It was on the third evening I made the wrong move. No, life altering move.

I was heading back to the hotel after some late evening sea side action. I had emptied a particularly good bottle of Cabernet Sauvignon, rich with those mineral tones so prevalent in most South African wines. I was slightly sun burned, possibly lost and decidedly round footed when I walked up to two well dressed white men beating the shit out of black kid.

- Hey, stop that!

I said before my brain had fully reengaged. They did stop. One of the men stared right at me, eyes filled with disdain.

- What you say?

I didn't have time to answer him when something hard hit the back of my head with a thud and everything lost focus and disappeared.

When I came to everything was black and my head hurt like hell. I was lying awkwardly, hands bound behind my back, feet tied together, and some sort of bag tied around my head. The sound made me think I was in someones trunk, but I guess it could have been a van or a covered pick up flat bed just as well. In any event, the vehicle was running fast on what I assumed to be a highway. After a bit of struggle I concluded that I was not just bound up, but also tied down and couldn't move much at all. After a boring hour or so still drunk me slipped back into sleep.

Next time I woke up the vehicle was standing still. I was still as tied up as before, but I could hear someone speaking Afrikaan a few steps away. He came close, shuffled some things around, and then I felt a small prick on my arm. I barely had time to realize it was some sort of injection when I lost consciousness again.

Regaining consciousness was quite different third time around. I still couldn't see anything, but I could feel some swim style goggles around my head, probably blacked out. Now I was lying more properly on a firm bed or padded table. I tried to move, but like before I was tightly restrained. This time it felt more professional, like cuffs around arms and legs, and some kind of material pushing against the chest. And I was naked, I think. It was hard to determine, as the temperature was nice and I couldn't move, but I couldn't feel any clothes on my body. I tried to say "hello", but nothing came out.

This quickly became incredibly boring. I couldn't see or feel much. The smell was basically just some generic clean smell of faint detergent. With sounds there were a bit more variation. I could hear some HVAC rumbling once every 5 minutes, or so I guessed. In addition there was a constant low humming in the room. I could hear some faint sounds from outside the room. Perhaps infrequent cars coming and leaving outside the building.

By my estimate I was at least into the third wake hour when suddenly a door opened and I could hear a conversation between the two men who entered the room. They sounded quite far away, so the room was probably large.

"...so many in the database?"

"We use five key measurements combined into one value as sorting key. The circumference and length, both on flaccid and erect, are approximated into two cylinders. Balls are approximated as spheres. Then we just multiply the three volumes together to make the sorting key. First selection priority is of course bio-compatibility, but this size metric allows for fast selection within that set. It only brings candidates though. The final decision is more complex, of course."

"Complex how?"

"Well, let's ask the doctor himself. His coming here."

A third person entered the room.

"You talking about me?"

"Yes, we were just discussing the selection criteria"

"Ah. Well, since this is a demonstration we want to be bold, while being mindful of proportions and aesthetics. In addition to appearance we want to maximize as many of the secondary factors as possible from the paper. For this one we landed in using the Congo supply."

They were standing right next to me now. The "doctor" continued.

"So this is the subject. The first agent is being administered right now, as you can see. Any questions?"

I tried to say something. Anything. But only wheezing air came out.

"Is he trying to speak?", asked the first voice.

"No, he isn't. Come, let's look at the model", replied the doctor, and they left the room as quickly as they entered it.

6-8 HVAC cycles later I heard the door open again and several people walking into the room. I heard a women's voice close to me saying "Everything is green. Go ahead." and I again lost consciousness.

The room was barely furnished, completely white and bathed in light when I opened my eyes.

"Oh, how good. You are awake."

I heard a female voice in a strong South African accent. I turned my head and saw a fat, black South African lady smiling at me. I was super confused. I was in a hospital bed, but this didn't really look like a hospital, and she didn't look like a nurse.

"Wheh...", was as far as I managed on "Where am I" before my voice gave out.

"You need to drink a lot. Here, let me help", said the lady and gave me something that looked like a hospital version of a gym bottle. As I drank she continued.

"You had a traffic accident. Nothing serious. Just a concussion, so you were dismissed from the hospital to make room. This is a recovery home."

I was gulping water. Man, was I was thirsty. "Where are we?" I asked.

"Just outside the city, so still close to Johannesburg."

That's like at least 10 hours away from Cape Town. What the fuck had happened?

"What day is it?"

"It's Thursday today, dear. I'll go and get something for you to eat", the fat lady answered, and started to move towards the door.

Something just didn't feel right. It was Wednesday evening when I was kidnapped. "No, what date?"

"Thursday the 28th", she said from the door.

A whole fucking week.

I felt a sucking black hole in my gut. The lady seemed nice, but there was no way I would trust her right now. Perhaps she believed everything she had just told me, but clearly some things were not true. My head felt fine, as opposed to the last time I was conscious, but what about the rest? I didn't feel any restraints, just my body in a hospital gown, under some white sheets. In fact, nothing hurt anywhere. Just thirsty, still, hungry and a need to piss.

I could see a different door in another wall than the nurse had just left through. Presumably a private toilet for this small recovery room. A pair of slippers stood next to the bed, so I threw off the blankets began to sit up and swing out my legs. That's when I first felt it. It was weird feeling, familiar, but yet very different.

I quickly kicked my feet into the slippers and carefully, still a bit woozy, shuffled into the bath room. It was surprisingly roomy. Well, perhaps not surprisingly, given the number of people with casts, wheelchairs and whatnot passing through. But it had plenty of room around the toilet seat and sink, and a full length mirror next to the sink, presumably for wheel chair bound people.

I raised the gown from my knees to expose my front, and just stared for a several seconds to fully understand what I saw. My dick and balls were gone. In its place was the largest, most aggressively male genitalia I had ever seen, even in pictures. The massive dick went almost down to my knees, and thick as a can of red bull. And even though it was completely flaccid it was veiny as cabbage and the outlines of a massive head was clearly visible through the uncut foreskin.

Behind the dick were two softball sized testicles hanging low, but unevenly so. It was all topped off with a large bush of coarse hair. And all of it, the hair, the balls and the dong, where dark chocolate black.

I just stared in disbelief. Then tentatively I touched the penis. Yep, it was real and it was now apparently mine. Standing straight my hands couldn't even reach halfway down to the tip. My mind caught up with reality and was filling with questions. Who did this? Why did they do this? How did they do this? Isn't there organ rejection? Aren't you supposed to eat some sort of pills forever after receiving a transplant? Are there even any pants I can wear anymore? Did baller shorts just become underwear?

I went to the toilet and emptied my bladder. It worked fine. Better than fine even, as aiming just became a lot easier with such a hose, although using paper involved lifting. Lifting! I could feel that it was much more sensitive than what I was used to, and felt it starting to come alive. I quickly dropped it and went back to bed. Just as I did lunch arrived.

Once fed, and having checked with the care taker, Amahle, that she wouldn't be back for two hours, I decided to try out my new dong. Tissues were already on the side table. I sat up in bed, kicked off the sheet and had another look under the gown. I was again taken aback with the sight. It wan't just massive, but somehow everything, length, girth, balls, looked to be in proportion. I must admit that I haven't spent much time thinking about, looking at or describing cocks, but the first words that came to mind were aggressive, intimidating and virile. The black skin made it even more so, as the light from the window created contrasting highlights on the veins.

Carefully I looked at the border, where the black skin met my pasty, white body. Rather than a sharp line, as I had expected, there was a narrow gradient where one color blended over to the other. How on earth was this done? It looked like perhaps a decades old surgery where the scar had long since gone soft.

I resumed where we left off in the bathroom, slowly stroking it. It reacted right away, and apparently was a grower as well as a shower. Holy fuck was it massive. I just lied in bed and over perhaps 20 minutes had the best wank in my life. I have no idea whose dick I was giving a handjob, but this was clearly his loss and my gain. It was filled to the brim with nerve endings, making every stroke amazing. Or perhaps it was designed and grown in a lab somewhere? In that case, props to the cocksmith.

The head was leaking precum like crazy, sending small droplets of man lube for every noisy slosh of foreskin riding up and down the head. I was probably suffering from some sort of auto-erotic asphyxiation with so much blood displaced, but I managed to be amazed over how long I lasted, in the fog of pleasure.

When I finally couldn't keep it contained anymore, I erupted in rope after rope of cum going everywhere. On my chest, in my face, and some overshooting me all together. As I was catching my breath, sweaty and sticky, I was thinking about what to tell Amahle. Or if I should get up and do some attempts to clean up the mess first. I realized I had plenty of problems ahead of me. Cleaning up, getting home, ever wearing pants again, figuring out how to use toilets. But at least there and then I could not care less.

[codylabs]

December’s Wrath

Chapter 1

It hadn't been a simple decision to leave California and his family and his sister to go spend the holidays in Gravity Falls with Wendy. But that was the decision he had made, and by the time he was really starting to question whether or not it was the right one, he had already crossed the state line into Oregon, and the rumble of the bus's engine had lulled him halfway to sleep. Thoughts like his parents' and his grandparents' disappointment at his absence, thoughts like Mabel wishing he could be there to see her new Hanukkah sweater, thoughts like the price of the bus fare, thoughts like the incomprehensible breadth of miles increasing between him and home, thoughts like the knowledge that the Corduroys had 'apocalypse training' instead of any kind of holiday celebration, thoughts like he wasn't prepared, thoughts like high clouds and dark trees and rare sun, these were the thoughts drifting through his head. Thoughts like he was right. Thoughts like he was wrong.

It was a starless night outside the bus, so all he could see beyond the window was a foot and a half of whirling snowflakes, and his own reflection, both layers tinted a grim color by the bus's pinkish interior lights. Crystals of frost were growing on the outside of the window, his breath was condensing on the inside of the window, and he was fast asleep a minute later, and his dreams were sad and lonely and brave and cold, cold, a terrible and cutting cold that pierced to the bone, clawed like an eagle's talons. His dream was a walking dream, while Wendy called him forward and Mabel called him back. The wind was calling too, but not in any specific direction. It just called.

The dawn came around 8:00, he woke up around 8:30, the bus left him at the stop around 9:00, and Wendy met him around 9:01. He almost didn't recognize her at first, beneath the layers of unfamiliar winter clothes, the gloves twice the size of her hands, the grey jacket and the baggy pants. It was only her face by which he identified her, peaking out from the middle of the hood. There was a light in her eyes and a smile on her lips, and he only barely had time to recognize her before she grabbed him in a hug and lifted him off the ground. "EEEEEYY It's good to see you man!" She hollered as she twirled him around. Her words were drowned out for a split second by the hissing of the bus's brakes as it moved off down the road. "How's it been going?"

"It's been going good!" She hugged her back until she set him back down. His backpack threatened to tip him over as he landed but he managed to catch himself. The ground was icy. He took a deep breath of the chill air as he shrugged the pack higher onto his shoulders and tightened the straps. "Good to see you too! I've really been missing this place! And, uh, and you, and everyone. How about you? How have you been?"

"Oh, same, you know how it is!" She punched him in the shoulder. Her breath crystallized in the air in front of her smile, and for just a moment, she looked to him like the most beautiful thing in the world. "Same as last time you were here, same as last time you called, same... I mean, what changes, man? School still sucks, weather still sucks, life's going great."

"Mood." He agreed, even though school had never really sucked that much for him, and the weather wasn't too bad, was it? It had stopped snowing, at least. "Anyway, I packed as best I could, I got my whole winter... Outfit. On." He gestured inclusively to his heavy jacket, heavy boots, three pants, and gloves, and took some reassurance that she was dressed similarly. "And uhhh toothbrush and sleeping bag and stuff. Is there anything else I need? I've never gone hiking in the winter."

"Nah, you're good. And if you're not, don't worry, we don't set out until after breakfast, and dad'll get you squared away once we get to the house." She led the way toward the Corduroy truck, parked on the roadside. "You got a change of clothes at least?"

"Yeah."

"Eh." She gave a dismissive shrug as they climbed into the truck. "You'll be fine." She was right, she was wrong.

As Dipper tossed his backpack into the back seat and made to close the door, his vision was almost completely obscured for a moment as a gust of wind pushed the vapor of his exhale back into his face. He blinked for just a moment, almost startled, and then as his breath dissipated, his eyes landed on the forest.

The forest.

It was the same forest he'd known before. The same valley, the same cliffs, the same mountains, same dome, same trees, same grass and ferns, he recognized that bend in the road, and that sign, and that water tower. But at the same time, this couldn't be the same place. Could it? The old woods were green, green and brown, and crowned with gold beneath a blue sky. These woods were grey. Grey within grey, grey as pale as snow on the fingertips of the trees and grass, grey as dark as night in the spaces beneath. The sky was grey too, no blue, no shapes of clouds, no penetrating ray of sunshine, all the world stood as if encased in prison.

It was beautiful, to be sure. Beautiful as art. But Dipper couldn't shake the nonsensical feeling that the bus had taken him to some alternative reality, some timeline where the bombs had dropped or the sun had gone out or time had frozen, that his eyes were seeing some grim warning vision and not reality. As he gazed out at that sight that used to look like a playground or a second home or some magnificent untold adventure waiting to happen, he thought, at this moment, that it looked something more like an enemy; a world-sized monster, some overbearing rival of mankind itself. He found himself sizing it up.

As Wendy watched him doing so, watched his eyes travel the landscape with a look so needlessly grim and fearless, for just a moment, he looked to her like the most handsome thing in the world. "Eh, I guess the weather's not so bad." She shrugged.

"...Yeah." He finally climbed fully inside and closed the door. "Not so bad at all." He was right, he was wrong. They rolled off down the road, toward the tall old woods where the Corduroy cabin lay hidden.

Dipper had been expecting some sort of grim, apprehensive, even frightened mood when they entered the house, (the whole 'apocalypse' motif having prepared him for the worst) but was pleasantly surprised to find the place full of laughter. Dan was bent over the stove cooking pancakes and shoveling nuts into bags, while the boys zipped around the house with their backpacks, thinking and rethinking and packing and repacking. Conversation loud and boisterous filled the air, about past trips and future trips and present trips, about weather and trees and old campfire stories and whatever else lumberjacks and mountain men talk about. Wendy joined right back in with it too, reminding her dad to bring the jerky, telling her brother to find the radio, getting told by another brother to bring an extra jacket, and all five of them were arguing about whether one person should carry all the toilet paper, or whether they should all bring their own, or whether they should just rough it off the land and wipe with leaves.

Somehow, though was no tree in the house, and no presents or decorations or cookies or little colored lights either, something about the joy and the togetherness of it all struck Dipper as belonging to a Christmas mood.

"YOU." Dan boomed down in Dipper's direction. He spun with a start to look up into the enormous man's face. "You got a knife on ya, boy?"

"Uh y-yeah. Got one right here." He nodded.

"Got matches?"

"Nope."

"You'll need matches." Dan tapped one enormous finger on a paper on the fridge; a packing list. "Need all this on here. Ask Wendy if you don't know where anything is."

"Awesome. Okay." As Dipper joined the rush, a smile touched his face, and he began to suspect that this would be a good Christmas after all. Different, for sure, different of course, but it may not be so hard, it might not be so worse. This was family, after all, a very close and loving family, and when a family is close and loving, nothing that ever happens to it seems quite so bad.

And besides, Christmas was more than just presents and decorations, wasn't it? More than just a few colorful nonsense traditions. A lot more.

But without all that, what was it exactly?

They were all packed by the time pancakes were done (As they had to be. Part of the Corduroy tradition was to leave immediately after breakfast no matter what; in a real apocalypse they wouldn't have much more warning than that, after all.) With Wendy's help Dipper had managed to get packed with everything on Dan's list, all except for a compass; the family had only six, and the sixth wasn't for using. He'd just finished zipping up his pack by the time breakfast was ready. The warm smell drew them together into the kitchen, and they set in.

"What was your name again?" Dipper looked up from his pancakes to see Wendy's youngest brother frowning across the table at him, mumbling words through a full mouth.

"Dipper." He nodded, and realized he'd never actually talked with any of Wendy's brothers, and didn't actually know anything about any of them. "...I never got you guy's names?"

"I'm Gus." The 11-year-old pointed a pair of thumbs in his own direction. "I'm the cool one."

"And I'm Marcus." Said the 15-year-old, and extended a hand to shake Dipper's. "I'm the actual cool one."

"I'm Wendy." Said Wendy, not even looking up from her phone. "I'm your girlfriend."

"I'm Kevin." Said the 13-year-old. He glanced Dipper up and down. "I bet I could take you."

That took Dipper off-guard.

Wendy snorted.

"Hey, be nice." Marcus snapped. "He's a guest!"

"You be nice." Kevin retorted.

"Everyone fight!" Gus cheered.

"EVERYONE BE NICE!" Dan thundered.

Silence descended rather immediately. u could take him. Wendy texted Dipper under the table.

Not gonna try???? He texted back.

By 10:00 their packs and supplies were all stacked in the back of the truck, and they were underway.

By 10:30 the truck was parked and locked at the end of a narrow logging road, with six sets of footprints leading away from it, deeper into the woods.

That was Friday, the 20th of December. Next week on Wednesday would be Christmas. The very next day, Saturday, was the solstice, when the days would be the shortest of the year and the sun would be dimmest, and the things the light drives out would feel most free to rise.

By 11:00 they were out of range of the cell towers, and there was nobody who could help them.

The sun flared yellow through the briefest gap in the overcast sky.

The wind howled.

A tree broke and fell with nobody to hear it.

The spirit heard it.

[midnightseonghwa]

𝐖𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐔 | 𝐩.𝐬𝐡

✕ 𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: Seonghwa x Clingy!Reader 

✕ 𝐆𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞: Fluff 

✕ 𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐬: 1.4k+

✕ 𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: Mentions of horror movies (not sure if it’s a warning but...) and the reader (you) is a big scaredy cat and is very clingy 

✕ 𝐄𝐝𝐢𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐒𝐭𝐚𝐭𝐮𝐬: Undedited 

✕ 𝐀/𝐍: This was requested by anon! Hi, I am so sorry I am late but better late than never, I guess...I hope you like this becasue I do...just a smidge but I really do like it so I hope you do as well! Intially, my small brain had said why not do Seonghwa and Yeosang both but gosh it was hard to come up with a plot because I have never watched any kind of horror movie (unless you count frankenweenie, dark shadows and edward scissorhands) so I just went with Seonghwa instead. I’m sorry for posting this late again! Do let me know what you think! 

✕ 𝐀𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐭𝐢𝐜:  here

Seonghwa closed the door as he waved off the kids and set the almost empty bowl of candy aside. The only ones left were the caramel ones that always stuck to your teeth but you were sure that the trick or treaters had retired for the night.

"Please tell me we avoided getting our house covered with toilet paper," you smiled as Seonghwa sighed and leaned against his back against the door, dramatically exhaling and wiping fake sweat off his forehead. 

"Yes ma'am. Safe to say that all the devils have been satisfied," he said and made his way to your shared room, emerging a few minutes later with his black and white skeleton print sweater exchanged for a hoodie instead.

"How are we going to satisfy the devils tonight?" You asked, a curious glint in your eyes but Seonghwa just smiled and turned the television on, scrolling through Netflix instead. 

"You tell me..." he trailed off and leaned back into the sofa with his arms spread over the back.

"IT or The Conjuring?" 

You coughed a little at his suggestions and gave him a glare. He knew very well how much you hated horror movies but he just had to pick one to watch on Halloween night. 

"Frankenweenie, Coraline or The Corpse Bride. Final options," you stated and stared at your boyfriend with narrowed eyes. 

"Aw, flower, you're no fun," he said and clicked on IT, waiting for it to load. 

"Stay here, I'll get some popcorn," he kissed your lips briefly before rushing to the kitchen. 

You looked at the paused screen, a small fire of fear already crackling inside your weak, easily scared heart. 

"Hwa..." you called out and quickly pushed yourself off the sofa, "Let's watch the popcorn in the microwave together."

Walking into the kitchen, you made your way into your boyfriend's idle arms. The plush material of his hoodie felt warm against your skin as your draped his arms over your shoulders and leaned into his body. 

"Do we have to watch that stupid movie?" You asked and played with the sleeves of his clothing, trying your best to put on a pout to sway him. 

"Come on, flower. It's Halloween! And besides, I'll be there to protect you okay?"

 Nodding unsurely, you watched the paper bag with the unpopped kernels turn in circles in the microwave, the occasional pop sound reaching your ears as you leaned further into your boyfriend. 

After collecting all the snacks you and Seonghwa needed, you curled up into his side, one blanket over your top while the other draped over his shoulders. 

The opening scene displayed itself on the screen as the director's name, production house and other such things flitted across the screen. You held edges of your blanket tightly, fingers bunching up the fluffy material between them. 

'Calm down (Y/n), it's just a movie', you reassured yourself as you gave Seonghwa a smile who returned it and then averted his gaze towards the screen. You hated disappointing and seeming weak in front of your magnificent boyfriend but emotions always got the better of you when it came to horror movies. 

It was possibly half an hour into the movie and you were already at your wit's end. That clown was going to haunt you for the rest of your life, you were sure of it. You had started to feel slightly hot due to your pyjamas and your blanket but there was absolutely no way you were going to give up your protection. To hell with Seonghwa's protection. Reaching for your cup, you pressed it your lips to take a sip only to find it empty. An involuntary groan left your lips as you tipped the cup back trying to drink even the smallest of drops. You did not want to leave your little safe space and venture into the dark kitchen. What if the clown grabbed you from under the kitchen sink? 

The fear was very real. 

The movie progressed and you found your fear slowly consuming every part of you bit by bit. Inching closer and closer into your boyfriend, by the time it was halfway, you were draped completely over the male, face pushed into his neck and blanket still clutched tightly. 

Seonghwa paused the movie and looked down at you, a soft smile making its way onto his face. He almost cooed at your form pressing tightly into his and draped the blanket that was over his shoulder over your body so that it formed a cocoon for the both of you. 

"Is my flower scared?" He whispered and caressed your sides under the blanket lovingly. You whimpered slightly and shook your head, trying to look brave but there was only so much you could do when you were already pressed into your boyfriend out of fear. 

"You know I hate horror movies," you stated and pouted, mustering up the best puppy eyes you could and you saw Seonghwa's resolve absolutely crumble. 

He sighed and stroked the outsides of your thigh that were on either side of his waist. 

"I know, flower and I'm sorry for forcing you into this. I didn't know you were that scared of it. Can I apologise with cuddles?"

Your face instantly lit up but you tried your best to control your emotions and shook your head. 

"No. No cuddles for you Mr I want to torture (Y/n)," you mocked and got off his lap, standing up in front of him. 

"I'm going to bed," you said and looked towards the dark corridor leading to your room, only to look back at Seonghwa who had started the movie again. 

"Okay, goodnight," he said and averted his eyes from your form, eyeing the television instead. 

"Seonghwaaaa," you whined and he looked at you with an amused look. 

"Yes?" He asked and cocked his eyebrow. 

"You're supposed to come with me," you said and tugged at his hand, kicking at his feet lightly. 

"Am I? I thought you said we weren't going to cuddle today?" He said and pressed his lips into a thin line to control his laughter. 

"Ugh, that's not what I- Seonghwaaa," you whined out again and your boyfriend laughed, switching the television off. 

"Wait, let me just the close the lights," he said and you walked towards the switch, you trailing behind him, blanket dragging around the floor. The minute his finger made contact with the switch, you grabbed his hand and sprinted towards your room as fast as you could, tripping over your blanket as you did. 

"What was that for?" Seonghwa asked, panting a little from the speed you dragged him at. 

You laughed and folded the blanket over the bed.

"So that the clown can't chase us," you said and got into bed before getting right out. 

"What happen now?" He asked, standing next to his side of the bed. 

"I need to use the bathroom," you asserted and stared at your boyfriend. 

"Yeah so? Go," Seonghwa said and you shook your head. 

"No, no. You need to come with me. Just stand outside the door?" You said and Seonghwa sighed but a ghost of a smile on his face revealed his true thoughts. 

"You're so annoying sometimes," he said and led you to the bathroom, leaning against the wall outside while you did your business. 

A minute or so later, you emerged from the bathroom ready to make a run for your bedroom again before Seonghwa stopped you. 

"Did you wash your hands?" You looked at Seonghwa sheepishly before shaking your head. 

"Listen, I have every reason not to. What if the clown grabs me from under the sink?" 

"(Y/n)," Seonghwa smiled and turned you back to the bathroom. 

"Go wash your hands, I'm standing right here."

You nodded and went back into the bathroom to wash your hands.

Once done, you balanced one hand on the light switch inside and one hand clutching Seonghwa's arm as you prepared for the dash to safety again. 

"Okay, Seonghwa. The minute I flick this light switch off, we're going to run okay?" 

Seonghwa nodded determinedly and you started your mini countdown. 

"One, two, three! Seonghwa run!" 

And with that, you flicked the light switch off, Seonghwa and you running through the corridor back to the safety of your bedroom, falling asleep in each other's arms. Seonghwa's wrapped tightly around you to prevent any sort of clown from grabbing you from under the bed. As long as he was with you, no clown would ever be able to get you. 

[fanfic-collection]

Loki x Reader: October 24 - Maze

This one went really long

-

“Hurry up!” Stacy, your roommate called. “We're going to be late.”

You rolled your eyes and returned to applying the last of your exaggerated makeup, completing your Cleopatra features. “I'm going, I'm going.” You called back, moving from the bathroom and back into your room where you pulled the costume from its plastic bag and carefully unfolded it. Slipping it over your head, you slid it down your body as quickly as you could, mindful of the flimsy fabric and how cheap it had been at the Halloween store, one of the last available options.

One last passing glance in the mirror, a fluff of your wig, a quick nod, and smile, and you headed down to the waiting car.

Stacy snorted and shook her head when she saw you, “Is that really call you could find?”

“What?” You replied, fastening the golden sandals that strapped halfway up your knees, already buckled into the seat.

Stacy had definitely put more effort into her costume than you had: a zombie with realistic blood makeup and even some prosthetics on her face for a ripped out cheek and a blind eye. “You really went all out.” She rolled her eyes, once more focusing on the road.

“I've been busy studying! I almost didn't go tonight.”

“Ya I know.” Stacy shoved your shoulder, turning the car at a stop sign, “I swear if they didn't promise extra credit for dressing up and attending this, you wouldn't have gone.”

“I wouldn't have. There's a test in four days, I could get a lot of time studying in if I didn't go tonight. And besides, I have homework in other classes that I could be working on.”

“You and I both know that you've finished it.”

“I had to take time off work for this.” You added.

Stacy rolled her eyes again, grumbling under her breath.

Stacy's parent's may have paid her way fully through college and not expected a dime in return but you had debts. You were hoping to graduate magna cum laude at least, if you could manage better, you knew it would look a lot nicer on future resumes. A political science major wasn't the most competitive of job markets but you knew it was what you wanted to do. And you knew tonight's Halloween party would look good if you attended, despite the monetary loss at not working.

The car rolled to a stop behind a long line of over cars parked at the end of a long driveway. In the distance you could see an old Victorian manor, more of a mansion than a house.

“That tenure pays well, huh.” Stacy muttered as you shut the door and walked over beside her.

You whistled softly. “No kidding...”

The two of you made the long trek towards the house, the many windows decorated with spooky decorations and some of the upstairs windows had flashing lights as though there were fires alight in them. Giant cobwebs littered the lawn with hordes of skeletons and spiders stalking towards the house.

You and Stacy climbed up the front stoop, a large wrap around front porch that disappeared onto each side of the house and you reached to ring the doorbell, stopping when you saw a sign that read, “Enter if you dare.”

You glanced at Stacy.

Stacy shook her head, “Guess it's open invitation.” She took the handle and turned it, unsurprised to find it unlocked, and stepped inside.

Boisterous noise blasted out at you, interrupting the relative silence that you had just been in, as long as a wave of warm air; you realized how chilly it had been outside as you stepped in finally warming up and gaining feeling in your fingers and toes again. The sandals you wore were not ideal for the cool fall weather.

The head of the department came over with two glasses of punch and a twinkle in his eyes, “Ahh two of my favorite students, I'm so glad you could make it. I'll be sure to put your names down in the guest book. Welcome, welcome.” He pushed the punch into your hands.

“Hey Professor J.” Stacy said with a wide grin.

“Professor Johnson.” You inclined your head, holding up the punch glass and taking a sip.

“Please tonight I'm Jeff. Well,” The professor held up the traces of bandages he had wrapped around himself, “I'm more of a mummy if you will, but you can call me Jeff.”

You snorted, he still wore his tweed jacket and brown dress pants but had attempted to wrap what looked like a little bit of toilet paper around his head and torso and age it with some tan paint. At least attempt is all the costumes would be counted for you figured.

Stacy mumbled into her glass, “Nice mummy.”

Jeff looked between the two of you, “My now, so who are you supposed to be, hmm, let me guess. I think we have a zombie and hmm... is that Cleopatra?”

You pointed your finger at him, with a smile, “That's the one.”

Jeff grinned, a teasing look on his face. “Well there's a roman you'll have to keep an eye out for. He never said who exactly he was, but I could see him being a fine Mark Antony. Did you do that on purpose?”

You felt a flush rise to your cheeks. “What, I, no? I didn't know anyone was dressed like this, I just chose this costume because it was cute and well available...” You trailed off lamely.

Jeff clapped his hands together, “Right-o, the drama unfolds. This is the sort of thing you would expect in the drama department, not the poli-sci. But Cleopatra and Mark Antony did play at politics. I won't keep you, please mingle and there is a haunted maze that leads to the mother-in-law house out back. We hired some theater students to keep it nice and scary for anyone who tries to complete it.” The front door opened again, “I have to go greet some other students, Jason, Richard, hello! I'm so glad you two could come!” The professor turned away to grab more punch and his focus was lost from you and Stacy.

“I wonder who your mystery Roman is.” Stacy said, grabbing your arm and dragging you towards the main room.

Different groups of people were smattered here and there in bunches of friends or otherwise groups of people who knew each other, chatting, gossiping, just generally getting along. Stacy moved from group to group, checking in with different acquaintances and friends. Sometimes she would stand for a few minutes, other times longer. All the while, you kept craning your head around, trying to find who the mysterious Roman was.

“Hey, I think I see a Roman.” Stacy said, moving towards another group.

You perked up, growing tired of mingling with people. You had never been the most social of butterflies.

Your mouth fell open as he turned around. “Loki?”

The Roman looked to see who had said his name and he stared down at you. For a moment, with the makeup and wig, he didn't seem to recognize you, then he saw your eyes and realization dawned on him. “No...” He breathed your name softly.

“Yes.” You nodded.

“You're Mark Antony?”

Loki cleared his throat, “Not exactly.”

“How did you know I would be Cleopatra?”

One of your good friends from an English class hurried over, having left a group of friends who were all gawking at the two of you, “So are you two finally dating?”

Your faced flushed, you could feel it burning down to your chest, as you crossed your arms and sputtered, “Well, I mean, I wouldn't say, I, um.”

Loki cleared his throat, his face tinged pink, “No, not, I mean, maybe, no,” He coughed.

You and Loki looked at each other then quickly looked away.

Your friend looked at the two of you and hurried off to report back to the others.

You slumped your shoulders and glanced up at Loki, he looked down at you.

“I had no idea you were going as Cleopatra.” Loki muttered.

“I didn't know you were going as-”

Loki interrupted you, “The easiest and least amount of effort I could think of, a Roman, everyone decided I was Mark Antony when the rumor that Cleopatra was going to be here, and that she was you.”

“Stacy.” You grumbled.

Loki sighed, rubbing the back of his neck.

An undergrad walked by and casually said, “Nice couples' costume, loved that movie.”

Loki had been your best friend since you started college and declared your political science major. He was double majoring in political science and astrophysics, with a minor in history. How he was maintaining his grades so well and not looking like the walking dead, was beyond you. You expected having rich parents helped, but still, you admired that he was able to maintain a double major. He was quietly wealthy, never flaunted it and strove to work hard for himself, you could tell he earned what was his, he had fought for his place in this world. You knew of his golden brother, whom he spoke bitterly of that things always seem to come to him, seemed to be handed to. You understood that. The two of you had quickly bonded and had grown quite close over the years, being near constant companions, helped along by the fact that you had many classes together. Also, you studied a lot together. Things you struggled in, he was helpful at teaching you, and things he struggled in, well even if you didn't understand astrophysics, you could slow him down and get him to think it through until he could work it out. And sometimes, you did understand it, you could see the missing piece that he wouldn't see and connect it for him. You figured if you were in the class learning the subject, you just might do well, and he often praised you for it. It made you feel good.

Rumors had sprung up, a will they won't they type thing. You had heard of them vaguely, but never paid much stock. But now tonight, it seemed as though finally, like a wall, they were hitting you. And as you glanced up at Loki, his hair slicked back, feathered down to his shoulders, Roman helmet held under one arm, his tall pale forehead, green eyes staring down at you, sharp cheekbones, thin nose, sharp angular jaw, and thin pale lips... maybe, just maybe there was something to the rumors.

“There's an apple bobbing trough.” You croaked, weakly, “Want to?” You mimed bobbing for apples.

Loki nodded quickly, “Yes, certainly, let's.”

You took his hand, a normal enough gesture, but tonight it felt electrical. Glancing down then back at him, you wondered if he felt it too. His eyes lingered on your hand before looking up and making contact with yours, lingering a second too long. You forced yourself to look forward dragging him towards the trough and biting your lip as you walked.

“Alright.” You said, kneeling down before the trough, “I'll go first?”

Loki nodded, “I'll hold your hair.”

You nodded stiffly, inhaling as you turned to face the trough. The feel of Loki's fingers brush along the back of your neck nearly elicited a moan and you immediately plunged your face into the trough, thankful for waterproof makeup. Loki kept his fingers painstakingly still, not daring to touch your skin and it took everything you had not to gasp and drown. Eventually you managed to grab an apple, biting into it and pulling up out of the water, gasping for air. You beamed, chest heaving as you held the apple out before taking a mighty bite.

Loki chuckled, “Very well, my turn.” He knelt down before the trough and glanced back at you, and you realized you were to hold his hair back. Swallowing hard, you stepped close to him, gently grabbing his hair into a bundle and holding it back. It felt heavenly and once again that electrical touch when your had brushed against the base of his neck; you bit your lip.

Loki resurfaced, an apple of his own in his mouth. He took the apple lazily and bit a chunk out of it.

“Touche.” You looked around, “I've talked with everyone I've felt like talking to tonight...”

“As have I.” Loki agreed looking around.

“There's a dance floor, but the music isn't...”

“Johnson's music taste not up to your standard?”

“I like spooky Halloween hits but I think he could stand to change the CD now, has anyone introduced him to like, Spotify, or the internet?”

Loki laughed, and grabbed your hand, dragging you towards the dance area, “The Monster Mash is indeed timeless.”

“I don't doubt it but after the fourth or fifth time.” You laughed back, dancing with him.

You and Loki danced for a little while, listening to the music that Jeff had picked out, though really wishing for some variety.

Finally the music grating on your nerves, you remembered the promise of the haunted house outside. The two of you made your way towards the back door, winding your way through the house, occasionally chatting with other people who had made it to other rooms while exploring the house. There were a series of signs pointing in the direction of the haunted house and you found yourself appreciating them because it would have taken much longer to reach it.

At last you reached the back door and opened it, stepping into a blow up tunnel that blocked you from the chilly wind.

You and Loki exchanged a glance, “I guess it starts here.” He said.

“I guess so.” You replied.”

You both stepped into the blowup tunnel and bounced along, fighting to keep your balance as ghostly cries filled the air. The back door of the house shut and blocking off the music and conversation of the house within. Ghostly wails filled the air, frankly more comedic than scary, given the nature of the bouncy tunnel, but you worked with what you had.

Reaching the end, the tunnel spat you out and you and Loki collapsed onto the grassy ground, a small maze of chain link fences leading to the mother-in-law suite. In different places, there was black paper so you couldn't see through the chain link. Flashing strobe lights filled the air and a fog machine summoned heavy layers of fog. Loud disorienting metal music screamed out at you, blaring in your ears, so loud you could barely think.

“Get up!” Loki yelled over the cacophony, offering his hand to you and pulling you to your feet.

You scrunched your eyes shut, the strobe lights making your head hurt. Trying to squint and look around, you held tight to Loki's eyes as he led you through the maze.

A gorilla leapt out at you from one of the chain link enclosures, screaming and shaking the fence. You rounded another turn and a guy in stripes shoved his face at you, laughing maniacally, tugging at bendable rubber bars.

Then just as quickly, you were out of the chain link maze and Loki opened the door to the house.

You blinked several times, trying to get rid of the strobe lights, and adjust your eyes to the darkness.

“Damn those lights.” Loki muttered.

You smacked your head a few times, as though hoping to get the flashing and noise out, “No kidding, thanks for leading us.”

Loki nodded, looking back at you with concern, “Are you alright?”

“Just a little, fuzzed up. I'll be fine.”

Loki wrapped his arm around your shoulder and held you close, once more taking the lead.

The two of you walked into the kitchen, a bloody crime scene had occurred, someone had been murdered and dismembered. A women lay on the ground pleading for help. “He's going to come back, please... please, you've got to help me.” She groaned.

Loki kept walking.

You looked at her fearfully.

“He's coming!” The bloody woman cried.

A man with a chainsaw came running from behind you and you screamed, running ahead.

“No, don't!” Loki cried, rushing after you.

You ran into the next room where a contortionist was rolling around on the floor, body twisted into all sorts of unnatural shapes. Stopping you moaned weakly, looking as they uncoiled and began to crawl upside down towards you.

Loki finally reached you and guided you away from them, on to the next room.

From behind you, you could hear the cackles of the contortionist filling the air.

The two of you passed through a long hallway and a zombie bride walked out, dress bloodied and torn, “Have you seen my husband?”

“N-no.” You stammered.

“Good, I ate him!” She jeered.

Loki continued to guide you, the next room had eerie green lights and was filled floor to ceiling with all manner of dolls, old and new, porcelain and cloth, cracked and torn and well cared for.

“I never much cared for dolls.” Loki muttered.

“Dolls are freaky, period.”

An especially large doll in the corner slowly started to stand, her porcelain face slowly contorting into a look of rage. You and Loki screamed, you clung to his chest and Loki wrapped his arms around you protectively. Behind you the chainsaw man appeared and screamed, “GET OUT NOW!”

A door opened and you and Loki ran for the door, Loki almost carrying you, as you exited to the outside.

There was a small shed type building with a creepy clown holding water laughing and giggling, “Congratulations, you survived.” He said in a singsong voice. “Do you want a picture, I won't take a no.”

“Wha-?” You panted for breath, doubled over.

Loki looked between you and the clown and took the water suspiciously before drinking it.

The clown danced over to the table where a single printer sat. He waggled his fingers until a picture slowly finished printing. “Here you are now!” Once again he giggled in a disturbing voice and you realized he was part of the haunted house attraction.

Taking the picture from him, Loki sighed and rolled his eyes, “Here.” He handed it to you.

It was the final scare, Loki holding you protectively in his arms as you clung to him fearfully. If anyone saw this there would be no denying how you two really felt for each other.

The clown honked his nose as he looked between the two of you, an obnoxious grin on his face.

“Well that's some damning evidence.” You muttered, taking a sip of your water.

Loki chuckled, adjusting his cape.

“Can I catch a ride with you?” You asked.

“You're fine with it?”

“Are you?”

“Extremely.”

“Yea, me too.” You stood on your toes and kissed his cheek. “I'm more than fine with it.”

[babygirlgalitzine]

unfair we’re not somewhere misbehaving for days (ao3)

jay

Ben hid under the desk, hand pressed tightly over his mouth in an attempt to muffle the laughter that was stumbling out of his mouth. 

He and Callum had been having an affair for months now, and it still hadn’t got boring. In fact, it grew more and more exciting as time went by. The more that they got away with, the longer their affair continued, the more exciting it got for them. The idea of being caught out was terrifying, but thrilling all the same. 

Which is why they were in the funeral parlour, Ben hitched up on the table, Callum between his legs. It was lunch, and Ben had sent Jay on a wild goose chase, just because he wanted to spend time with Callum. Time that they hadn’t spent together for a while. It was nice, Ben’s legs wrapped around Callum’s waist, Callum leaning against Ben, encapsulated in one another.

Until they both heard the lock in the door turn, and Jay’s voice shouting out.

“Get down.” Callum whispered, as he scrambled to zip up his trousers. 

Ben started laughing instantly, ducking underneath the table with his jeans halfway down his thighs and his shirt unbuttoned. 

“I can’t believe him.” Jay exasperated, sitting down at his own desk, facing Callum. 

“Who?” Callum asked, smile on face as he attempted to sort out the papers that were now scattered all across the desk. Ben snaked a hand up Callum’s leg, resting it on his thigh.

Jay rubbed his hands across his face and sighed. “Ben. He told me that Lola needed some letter or another for Lexi, because she’s taking her to the dentist, and they’re both busy so I had to find it. I’ve just spent the past half an hour turning the house upside down, and then I rang Lola and she said she hadn’t got the foggiest what I was going on about.”

“Brothers, eh?” Callum chuckled, reaching down and shoving Ben’s hand out of the way. 

Jay shrugged, and looked at Callum. “You alright mate?”

“Me?” Callum asked. “Yeah I’m fine.”

“You just look…” Jay faded out, pointing to his own hair. 

Callum’s hair was all over the place. Half of it was flat against his forehead, the rest all askew. It was a massive contrast to his usual perfect quiff, just like it had been half an hour prior.

“Oh!” Callum gasped, running his fingers through his hair. “I, er, I had a nap. Yeah.”

Jay nodded. “Do you want anything from the shop anyway? I’m going to get lunch.”

Callum shook his head, and watched as Jay walked out of the funeral parlour.

Seconds later, Ben reappeared, standing up fully and tugging his jeans back into position. “You had a nap? That’s a new one.”

“You need to go before Jay comes back.” Callum grinned. 

“I know, I know.” Ben buttoned up his shirt, and leaned down, pecking Callum’s lips. “Text me later, yeah?” 

“Course.” 

lola 

Ben sat in the drivers seat, with one hand on the steering wheel, the other on the back of the passenger seat. Callum sat next to him, stretching his legs out in front of him, sliding the seat back. 

“You gonna give me a kiss?” Ben grinned, lifting his sunglasses up, rolling them onto his forehead. 

“It’s broad daylight.” Callum responded, as if that was a normal response to give to his lover who was asking for the tiniest amount of affection.

Ben looked around. “You’re not a vampire, Callum. Nobody is around. We’re fine.” 

Callum looked around himself, and then turned to face Ben. He raised his hand, cupping Ben’s cheek. He leaned forward, and caught Ben’s lips between his own, a quick embrace, and a risky one at that. It was the first time they had done this, in public when it was light. Anyone could appear at any moment, and the whole affair would be ruined. It made their hearts race, as Callum’s thumb ran over Ben’s cheek, their lips locked together, enjoying the moment.

“Good enough for you?” Callum asked, when they pulled back from one another. His hand still remained against Ben’s cheek, skin warm underneath his touch. 

“More than good enough.” Ben responded, grin spread across his face.  

At first, it was just lust. A need for Ben to prove that he could win whoever he wanted, and an itch to scratch for Callum, finally experiencing what he was made for. Now, it was so much more, and they both knew that, even though it wasn’t exactly something they would admit, even to themselves. 

“Is this our first official date?” Callum asked, putting his seatbelt on over his body. 

“I think it might be, yeah.” Ben smiled, and then there was a tap at the window, and Callum’s face sunk.

Ben turned around, and wound his window down. “You alright Lo?” Ben asked. 

“Where are you two off to?” Lola asked, shopping bag in hand. 

“Present shopping.” Callum lied, smile beaming across his face. “Ben was bored, so he offered to give me a lift.”

Lola smiled, and nodded, accepting the answer. “Good luck then. You’ll be listening to show tunes on the way there.” She laughed.

“Okay yeah, bye Lola.” Ben responded, smirk across his face as he pushed his friend off of his car, winding the window back up.

Ben waited until she walked into the house before he turned to Callum. He reached out, and placed his hand on top of his thigh, squeezing it gently. “It’s fine.” He spoke. “She didn’t see anything. She would’ve said.”

Callum smiled, and placed his hand over Ben’s, interlocking their fingers.

whitney 

“Feels weird.” Ben commented. “Being here, with you.”

They were in Callum’s flat, somewhere that had been out of bounds in all the months of their affair – until now. Callum was practically pinned to the sofa, Ben arching over him, knees to either side of Callum’s waist, holding Callum’s hands up above his head. He leaned down, and left an open mouthed kiss to Callum’s lips, before pulling away and watching as he instinctively chased Ben’s mouth, wanting more.  

“Why?” He asked, wiggling to get more comfortable. 

Ben let go of his hands, allowing Callum to put them down. He did, and snaked them around Ben’s waist, needing to have that extra touch. 

“Because it’s your home.” Ben shrugged. “Every time we’ve been together, it’s been in places that don’t matter. Random hotels, if we’re lucky. This, this is so much more than that. It’s your home.”

“You can be quite soft when you want to be, can’t you?” Callum pointed out.

  They sat in silence for a moment, Callum’s thumb running over Ben’s cheek, fingers curling into his hair. Ben leaned down, and embraced Callum into another kiss, his thumb hooked against his chin, pulling Callum into position. It was slow, and sensual, and a far cry from the kisses they shared at the start of their affair, all bruised lips and teeth clashing together. It was so much more than that now. This was about them, taking their time together. Giving every piece of Ben to Callum; and every piece of Callum to Ben.

That was, until the phone buzzed, and Callum had to answer it. 

Whitney. She had come back earlier than expected from her shopping trip, and Callum buzzed her up. 

“Get your shoes on, quick.” Callum ordered, the second he slammed the receiver down. “Whitney’s back.”

Ben scrambled to get his shoes on, as Callum flustered about, not knowing what to do. Ben grabbed ahold of him. “Follow my lead.”

“Hi bab- oh.” Whitney spoke, walking through the door and putting her shopping bags on the sofa. “What are you doing here?” 

Ben smiled. “Business.” He responded. “Callum came around before, but I was busy with another customer. Turns out he wants a nice little motor, so I was just telling him what cars we’re getting in next month or so.”

“Yeah.” Callum smiled, stepping forward and kissing Whitney’s cheek. “Thought it was about time I invested in a car. Anyway, I’ll see you later mate.” 

Callum held out his hand, and Ben clasped onto it, shaking it. It felt weird. Odd. Heartbreaking even, that they had just gone from entwined fingers and passionate kisses, to shaking each others hands and being called ‘mate’.

“Yeah.” Ben smiled. “Let me know if you want that car.”

kathy 

It was rare that Ben experienced an empty house, what with the amount of people that lived in both of the houses he usually resided in. So, when it happened, he couldn’t believe his luck, and texted Callum to invite him around.

Though, neither of them were expecting that this would result in their affair being exposed. 

“I really need to get back.” Callum groaned against Ben’s lips. He had been trying to leave for close to ten minutes now, but Ben had a magnetising way of pulling him back in, every single time he made an attempt to leave.

“Fine.” Ben smiled. “One more kiss though.” 

Callum rolled his eyes, but conceded, pressing his lips to Ben’s. When he pulled back, he shrugged on his jacket – that had been scattered on the floor alongside the rest of his clothes – and spoke. “I’ll just nip to the toilet. Are you going to the pub?”

“Yeah.” Ben smiled. “I’ll wait downstairs for you.”

So, Kathy coming back early wasn’t part of the plan. 

Ben was stood at the bottom of the stairs when the door swung open, Kathy stepping inside. “You off out love?” She asked, sweet smile on her face. 

Ben looked like a rabbit in headlights, and took a quick look upstairs in an attempt to get Callum to stay up there, but he was nowhere to be seen. 

“Ben?” She asked, confused. “What are you looking at? Do you have a man up there?” 

“What? No.” Ben responded, too quickly for his mum’s liking, and she knew then. 

And then it happened. 

From upstairs, Callum called out. “Babe, are my shoes down there?” 

Kathy recognised the voice instantly, and Ben swung his head back, eyes screwed shut, as if he was waiting for the kick off to happen. 

“Babe?” Callum spoke again, jogging down the stairs. “My sho-oh”

“Yeah, ‘oh’.” Kathy repeated. “How long’s this been going on?” 

Callum looked at Ben, waiting for him to speak. “Five months.” He answered, when Ben didn’t. 

“Ben?” Kathy enquired. 

“Well he’s hardly gonna lie is he?” Ben laughed. “Five months, give or take.” 

He turned to Callum. “Your shoes are in the living room. Go to work. I’ll see you later.”

Callum nodded, and picked his shoes up, shoving them on his feet. Ben rubbed his face and sighed. “See you later, yeah?” Callum spoke softly. 

“Sorry.” Before leaving, he pressed a quick kiss to Ben’s cheek.

Kathy sighed, watching as Callum left the house, running his fingers through his hair. “We need to talk.” She said, pushing Ben into the living room, not prepared for this conversation in the slightest.

[pascalls]

Gazebo of Horrors

Charlie enjoys a Halloween night with the regulars from the bar, solidifying the holiday as his favorite for a number of reasons.

Feat. Lisa, Lenny, Carl, Moe, Barney, Sam, and Larry

Author’s Note: This one’s gay.

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

Charlie couldn’t remember the last time he had a decent night’s sleep. Twisting and turning in his sleeping spot, he was uncomfortably warm. Trapped in the middle of a nightmare, Charlie felt sweat bead at his forehead and the sound of someone giving chase. He ran, unable to outpace whatever it was that was at his heels, sharp, pointed ends of something metallic scraping the concrete as it jabbed at his tail. Only when he turned did he realize that whatever it was looked a lot like Ned Flanders…

He awoke with a start as a clang on the metal outside of his impromptu napping place broke him from his fitful slumber. He sat up, only just pausing before hitting his head on the plastic ‘roof’. Reaching up, he pushed it up and away, peering out and ready to shoot a glare at whoever happened to interrupt his rest when he noticed that it was already evening. Blinking away the remainder of his sleep, he weighed his options. Go back to sleep until morning? Slink out and back to Lovejoy’s before his absence was noticed? 

“Nurse Walker?”

The voice startled him slightly as he turned, spying the familiar face of Lisa Simpson who seemed to be staring at him quizzically. As if he’d grown another head. 

“Were you… sleeping in there?” She asked, pointing at the metal dumpster that Charlie had  emerged from. Astute as ever, he thought. 

“...I might’ve been,” he replied, about to come up with some sort of excuse for why he’d chosen such a place to hide away and nap, but she provided a fantastic distraction as he took in what she was wearing. Definitely not her usual outfit. “...What are you wearing?” 

“Oh!” Lisa grinned with enthusiasm, spreading her arms out and doing a little twirl to show off her clothes; a purple dress with yellow flowers in her hair and a small veil-like addition trailing behind her. “I’m Ada Lovelace! The first ever computer programmer. She was an English mathematician who totally blew Charles Babbage away by utilizing his Analytical Engine in ways he never even thought of.” 

The information sailed right over Charlie’s head, but as he leaned out of his dumpster bed, he watched her with a little smile. Ah, she would go places. Hopefully not into a dumpster like him. But as she spoke, his brain began to putter back to life. Wait. Costume? He glanced down to her hands which held a bag that had to have been half full by then. Full of candy?

His attention drifted to the nearby street as he noted that Lisa was not the only one in unusual garb. Nearby, he heard the telltale voices of Bart, Milhouse, and yes, even Nelson as they presumably trailed along ahead of Lisa. And it was about then that he realized - Oh. 

“...It’s Halloween,” he said, interrupting Lisa’s drawn out explanation of said ‘analytical engine’ and how tragic it was that Lovelace had died at such a young age. Though she was a little frustrated at having been cut off, she responded with a nod. 

“Yeah. Are you gonna dress up as anything?”

Charlie blinked down at her once or twice. Thinking that over. Well. No. Because he hadn’t even remembered that Halloween was a thing. Until just now. But thinking that through even further, Charlie recognized that he dressed up like it was Halloween every damn day. Which meant that… Maybe… Just maybe…

“...No!” He proclaimed, taking a moment to get his legs under him to spring himself out of the dumpster, landing with a rather pleased expression on his face next to Lisa. “For once, I am not dressing up as a damn thing!” 

“Huh. I guess you don’t have to!” Lisa said as she looked him over with a little smile. “It’s like you have a built in costume.” 

“For once, being a terrible, horrible abomination to society is going to pay off, my intelligent little friend.” Reaching down, he gave her a gentle pat on the head and then nudged her in the direction of her brother’s fading voice. “Go on! I’m gonna find some trouble to get up to while I have the damn chance, for once.” 

Lisa didn’t argue. And she made a mental note to herself to not tell anyone that she’d found the normally downtrodden nurse holed up in the trash. He… probably didn’t need that floating around about him. So she gave him a little wave before running after the others, calling for them to wait for her.

Charlie, meanwhile, was rooted to the spot as his mind raced with possibilities. He could do… SO MUCH now. He could go to the store. He could see a movie. He could just WALK AROUND. And nobody would give a second thought about it! For the briefest of moments, he felt… powerful. He could do anything he wanted-

A nearby screech of tires nearly made him jump back and away from the street as the ugly pink sedan that Charlie instantly recognized as Homer’s came to a stop in front of him. The man himself leaned out from the driver’s seat, grinning widely at Charlie as he called out. 

“Hey NURSE! Nice rabbit costume!” Homer yelled. It was clear he’d already had a drink or two, but so had the other six men that were crammed both inside and on the roof of the car. The bar must have been closed, as Charlie noted that the regulars were accompanying Homer on his Halloween joy ride. Lenny, Carl, and Moe sat on the car’s roof, hastily hanging on - presumably, for dear life whenever Homer started driving again - while Barney, Sam, and Larry were crammed inside. Each of them had their own drink in hand and Charlie could hear the clatter of more cans along the car’s floor. They had gotten an early start on the drinking, apparently. 

“Hey Charlie! We’re drivin’ down to Flanders’ to egg his house and knock over his mailbox,” Moe called down to the hybrid. 

“Remind me why we’re doin’ that?” Carl asked, shaking the can in its hand to check its content level. He would need another one soon.

“Be-CAUSE, it’s FLANDERS,” Homer grunted from the front seat. “What more reason do you need???”

“Can’t argue with that!” Lenny had no objections, apparently. And neither did anyone else. Least of all, Charlie.

“Hell yes, I do. Open one of those things for me, will you?” Charlie said with delight as he hopped over, pleased that none of the men seemed to give two shits as to what he looked like as he clambered up and onto the roof of the sedan. In fact, he wasn’t the only one in the festive mood. Homer had made an attempt at being some kind of vampire, but had apparently given up halfway, tying a black shirt around his neck as a cape and smearing what looked like red jelly around his mouth. Lenny and Carl had swapped outfits, Moe would later on describe his usual attire as being ‘the scariest thing you could see in 2020’, and Barney had simply taken a shower and put on a different shirt. A frightening prospect. Larry did not seem to get the costume memo and Sam had mostly his usual attire, except his overshirt shirt was a red checkered plaid pattern instead in a relatively lazy impromptu lumberjack look. 

Charlie felt as though he fit right in, tipping back his head as he downed his first beer and digging his claws into the roof of the car as Homer drove off towards Ned’s. 

As the night went on and Homer’s merry gang of troublemakers stirred up more than enough chaos to fill several Halloween nights with, Charlie found himself laughing, yelling, and being raucous right along with them. There was no shortage of eggs thrown, toilet paper left in the branches of overhanging trees, nor did he turn down the candy they’d nabbed from some of the neighborhood bullies. Charlie considered it teaching them a lesson. They’d live. And while he didn’t normally imagine that he’d pal around with Moe’s regulars to this extent, he had a hard time convincing himself that he wasn’t having more fun than he’d had in ages. At one point, he could have sworn that they passed both the reverend and his wife. What he wouldn’t give to see if Tim had noticed that he was not interested in coming home on time that night...

By the time they’d finished their route around Springfield - and Homer was too drunk to keep driving and not smash into something along the way - the men abandoned the pink carriage in favor of staggering into the nearest park gazebo to lounge around, finish as many of their remaining cans of beer as they could, and generally be a public nuisance. Luckily, they weren’t the only ones out and about, which meant that Chief Wiggum was not likely to break up their after party. Which was just as well. Charlie didn’t need any reason for him to have to return to Lovejoy’s tonight. Nah. He was having way too much fun, even in the sleepy drunken haze that threatened to overtake him as the clock neared midnight. 

“I didn’t expect you to actually loosen up like that.” 

Charlie glanced up from his tenth - or eleventh? - beer, locking eyes with Sam who had staggered over to sit on the steps of the gazebo next to Charlie. Inhibitions gone, Charlie didn’t mind the company. Lenny and Carl were not far away, but seemed to be discussing whether or not a uranium rod would float if placed delicately in a vat of beer. Homer had passed out about ten minutes prior, and Moe, Barney, and Larry were arguing over who had rights to the last few beers in the cooler. 

“I’d forgotten about Halloween,” Charlie replied with a little smile. “The one night where I don’t have to dress up like some kinda… freak.” He sipped at his beer, not bothered by the terminology at the moment. Might be if he were at all sober. But with his head floating pleasantly, he didn’t mind being a little brazen and honest.

“I bet if you just decided t’say screw it one day, nobody would even notice,” Sam continued, pointing at Charlie with the hand that still held his own beer which was nearing empty. 

“Uh-huh. Then I get thrown into the zoo with the crocodiles and you gotta visit me and bring me booze before I go fuckin’ crazy, right?” Charlie shook his head, but he was amused at the thought. 

“I got plenty to spare.” Sam smirked, shaking his can a little and listening to the liquid slosh back and forth. 

“Aw. You’re sweet.” Charlie brought a hand up to his chest in a fake swoon. “Didn’t know you liked me that much.”

Sam laughed, a low, somewhat gravely sound that made Charlie’s ears twitch with interest. They were one step ahead of his brain which was only just registering that… they might have been flirting. And, now that he recalled… it probably wasn’t the first time. The hybrid had been coming to Moe’s on several nights of the week now, staying out late and risking the reverend’s ire while keeping company with the regulars. And more often than not, Sam was included. While he was moderately amused by Homer, Lenny, and Carl’s general conversations that they had, the three jokers hardly caught his attention. Larry still didn’t speak much, and he wasn’t even going to pretend that Barney was ever good for more than a belch or two before he was sufficiently out for the count. 

But on more than one occasion, Charlie lingered behind with Sam. Sometimes not saying much. Just staring absently at the television above the bar. Maybe swapping stories here and there about Sam’s time on the road or Charlie’s general complaints about both Skinner and Chalmers or the Wiggum boy’s predisposition to sticking sharp objects where he shouldn’t. 

On any other night, Charlie might not have given it much thought. It was dangerous to get too wrapped up in a person. Like he had with Lovejoy. Like he’d stumbled into with Chalmers. Neither of which seemed to give him the feedback he was looking for. And on any other night, that fear might have kept him from going down that same path. But as he listened to Sam’s laugh which made his own mouth tilt upwards into a smile… Well… he couldn’t help it. They were already sitting so close and… Charlie’s head was already spinning and he swore he probably smelled like beer, cigarettes, and maybe eggs, but…

The liquid courage was not one to be ignored. He held his breath and leaned forward, catching Sam’s lips with his own in a soft, but purposeful kiss. He willed himself to not pay attention to anything - except maybe the faint sound of blaring music somewhere off in the distance - hoping against hope that he was not going to be pushed away. 

And he wasn’t.

But he wasn’t sure if that was a good thing either. 

He broke the kiss after a moment or two, pulling back as his ears pinned themselves against his hair and he let out a little nervous laugh. Sam’s expression was unreadable. Clearly, he’d been caught off guard, staring at Charlie in surprise and… the hybrid didn’t know what else. But even in his drunken state, his heart pounded with fear and he glanced away.

“Sorry. Uh. Forget that happened. I have had… woof. One too many… hah…” 

His feet wanted him to run, but with so much alcohol in his system, he doubted he would get very far before tripping over his own tail. So there he sat, pointedly looking away and off into the distance, rubbing at his face in exasperation at his own stupid, desperate antics. His chest felt like it was about to burst with anxiety and embarrassment. Christ. He could only hope that Sam was drunk enough to write it off as a figment of his imagination in the morning when they both woke up in their respective beds and pretended that nothing ever happened.

“WELL! I should… go,” Charlie began, finishing off his beer and crushing the can in his claws before tossing it aside. About to get to his feet when he felt a hand on his shoulder. Freezing, he felt the color drain from his face. Oh no. This was the part, wasn’t it. Where his other secret was going to be touted in front of the other men like some kind of hard-won prize. Where he realized that Sam was just another moron in Springfield deadset on making him feel like an absolute freak. Where he was reminded that his decision-making was so incredibly poor that only he could have made the wrong choice three times in a row.

Anger bubbled up somewhere in the back of his throat, but before he could bristle and snap in defense, he was spun back to face Sam, caught by surprise as the man’s mouth met his own once again, this time of his own volition. Confusion replaced the anger that threatened to rise, a little sound of alarm only just being squelched by his steady realization that… He had been wrong.

They were both drunk, but Charlie shoved the thought to the side as he closed his eyes, suddenly drifting along a sea of contentment as he allowed himself to be pulled into that second kiss. He forgot that Lenny and Carl were sitting just on the other side of the gazebo. He forgot that Moe and the others were not far either. He forgot that he was kissing another man. He forgot… everything. Everything but the feeling of Sam’s lips on his own. They were warm and tasted like Duff, but so did his own. Charlie almost laughed as their glasses clacked gently against each other, but he didn’t care about that either. It was Halloween night and he felt like a giddy teenager, his claws brushing along the steps of the gazebo until they found Sam’s fingers, intertwining their pinkies together as they’d done to seal their promise to not dampen Moe’s spirits. 

Sam didn’t seem to mind, too wrapped up in the kiss just the same. Until they parted and Charlie let himself breath. He was red in the face, he was sure. But he would try to play it off like it was just the beer. Yeah. That’s all it was.

“...You don’t gotta go if you don’t want to,” Sam finally said, his own beer all but forgotten to the side. He was a bit flushed himself, but he seemed to manage it a lot better than Charlie did.

“...You don’t think we’ve gotten up to enough troublemaking tonight, huh?” The hybrid replied in kind, unable to disguise the little grin on his face. 

“Nah. It ain’t even that late yet.”

Sam got to his feet, offering his hand to pull Charlie up along with him. His tail helped him maintain his balance, even as the world tilted and shifted beneath his feet. Wow. He really was drunk. Or… maybe it had just been the kiss. Either way, he was feeling ridiculously topsy turvy just then. And the welcoming smile on Sam’s face certainly didn’t help. Wow. 

Maybe he hadn’t really been fake swooning after all.

“Lead the way,” Charlie prompted, keep himself at the other man’s side with a delighted little rumble of a purr that he did his best to keep to himself. It was difficult. And as they drifted away from the park and back into the street, he absently wished that Halloween was not a once-a-year deal.

When they’d left, Lenny and Carl found themselves staring after the two, still nursing their own beers and watching in a bit of a drunken stupor.

“Did we really just see that?” Carl asked, glancing up at his companion, baffled.

“I think so. Why don’t you ever do that with me?” Lenny replied as he sat atop the railing of the gazebo, his words slurred in his mild outrage.

“Aw shut up,” Carl said, focusing back on his beer. 

He made a mental note to shove Lenny off of the railing before the night was over with.

[wisegiverchaos]

My Dream Last Night

 CONTEXT: I was thinking about sports bras during the day prior to going to bed, so I began the dream in some sort of store perusing sports bras. As is standard with dreams, the locations flowed into each other as if they all exist whithin a single monolithic, labyrinthine structure. The store flowed from a women’s clothing section into Target’s home section, past ottomans and blankets and candles. From the home section it became a back hallway (think employee corridors at malls) which emptied into several different spaces via doorways. The doorway I eventually take in the dream leads to a darkened picturesque chapel. After passing through the chapel I’ll stumble into a spacious office space with multiple individual offices, and a reception area with a couch and a couple of comfortable chairs. (The bad guy that pops up appears to be the Darkling from Shadow and Bone, which makes sense, I guess, because I find him attractive. His minions are generic bad guys as well as Dakota Fanning at 14 and Alexander Ludwig at the same age.) The reception doors of the office lead outside, where I’ll find myself on a wooded mountain containing the occasional house, as well as some towering trees. I rejoin my team (which I apparently have) and end up near a house toward the foot of the mountain, when a dam bursts. (Makes total sense because I was just reading a book wherein a dam burst and many people were killed. It also included a mountain slope with many trees at one point in the story, so that’s probably where that came from.) We must climb trees in an effort to avoid being swept away. So there you go, that’s what I’ve got.

    I held the package of sports bras, debating. They were cute, and a really good price, but there were five in there, and I’d only been after two. It was a steal, I decided, nodding to myself. If I could find my size I was taking them home. I began to dig through the hanging packages, on a mission. My concentration was broken by a rising clamor coming from the store to my right, and I looked for the cause of the sound. After a moment, a crowd of people charged into view, the fear on their faces communicating better than words that they were fleeing something. Suddenly feeling a sick lance of fright slash through my gut, I turned on my heel and ran, not interested in being trampled. I dodged piles of blankets and candles and leapt over ottomans, some endlessly consumerist part of my brain registering that “huh, those are cute,” as I fled.

    I burst through a large set of swinging doors, through which I’d seen many an employee disappear, and found myself in a large receiving bay. To my left yawned a seemingly endless hallway, studded with doors on either side. I chose the hallway. I was about forty feet into the hall when the swinging doors burst open under the flood of people. I poured on the speed. Up ahead, I noticed one of the doors was slightly ajar, and I angled for it. I skidded to a stop, swung inside, and slammed and locked the door. I leaned heavily against it, listening to the horde of frightened humans stampede past, and I noticed absently that I had locked myself into a broom cupboard. A cramped cleaning closet. I jumped as the door handle was jostled several times, and I pushed my weight into the door just in case. The thunder of footsteps began to recede, along with shouts and the occasional scream. I sank to the floor and rested my head on my knees.

    I awoke sometime later, minutes or hours, I’m not sure, shocked to realize I’d actually fallen asleep. That seemed foolish, given that I didn’t even know what I’d been running from so recently. On my knees, I turned to the door and pressed my ear to it, straining to hear even the smallest sound. There was nothing. I slowly unlocked the door, keeping as quiet as possible. I still winced when the lock popped open, as loud as a gunshot to my paranoid ears. I waited with bated breath for any response to the noise, but the hallway outside remained stubbornly quiet.

         Inch by fraction of an inch, I pushed the door open (less than halfway), glad to be lower to the ground in case anyone was out there. Seeing no one to the left (from which direction I’d come) I poked my head around the door and searched the other end of the hall. Empty. There seemed to be no indication of the swarm of frightened people that had crashed through. I squinted. There were a few scuff marks on the floors and along the walls. To be fair, those could have come from before. There! On the floor up ahead, lay a single shoe.

   Shaking my head, I straightened to my feet. I considered returning the way I’d come, but dismissed the notion with a shiver. I had a bad feeling about going back, what I might see. So instead I turned right, and crept down the hallway, gently trying different doors to see if they’d open. I found another closet like mine, this one stacked with rolls of toilet paper, shelves of soaps, and paper towels; supplies rather than cleaning agents.

   Further down, I had luck with another door. When the door cracked open, I could sense that it was an actual room, rather than a closet, and I paused, waiting. When there was no sound or response, I pulled it open far enough to peek inside. All was dark. Without giving myself time to talk some sense into myself, I slipped inside, the door closing and plunging myself into inky darkness. I stood still, blinking, and waited for my eyes to adjust. I could feel that I was in a very large, open space. As I gained some vision, I could see that I was in a chapel with soaring, vaulted ceilings, a weak sliver of light emanating from behind a pulpit. I turned in a small circle, taking in what little I could make out, and nearly shrieked as I realized I was not alone.

   Rows and rows of pews lined the sides of the cavernous space, every one of them filled to capacity with motionless figures. They were so still, that for a moment I wondered if the pews were holding mannequins for the store. The notion was dispelled, however, when I realized I could hear them breathing in the stillness. On tiptoe, I approached the nearest pew, situated against the back wall. I peered at the woman seated in front of me, feeling at any moment she might jump at me and shout and I would absolutely pee my pants. But she just sat placidly, staring straight ahead, blinking occasionally. Her hands rested in her lap, palms pressed together as if she’d been praying. I looked at the man to her left, and the woman to her right, and they sat in exactly the same position, palms together, staring straight ahead with no expression.

              Eerie.

    I nearly screamed when I heard the door handle begin to turn behind me. Finding no empty spaces of the pews, to try and blend in, I clambered onto the back of the pew, jostling the strange, empty people. From the pew, I leapt at the wall, just managing to catch hold of the bottom of the nearest rafter, which arced toward the ceiling. I scrambled into a secure position, clutching to the beam like a monkey, just as the door swung open. A pair of men entered, talking quietly to one another, each with a scary-looking rifle slung over his shoulder. They walked below me, ostensibly unaware of my presence. They paused in the middle of the chapel, and I lost sight of them for a moment when the door swung shut and  the sliver of light that had illuminated them disappeared. I blinked, waiting for my vision to readjust. The men continued chatting.

   When I could finally see again, I stretched my leg as far as I could go, relieved when I felt my toes hit the next rafter over. I carefully rested more and more of my weight on it until I could safely heave the rest of my body over. In this manner, I slowly made my not-so-graceful way across the chapel. I froze every so often, especially as I neared the men’s location, certain they would hear my movements and soft swearing; but any sounds I made were eaten up by the high ceilings, which also explained why I couldn’t make out anything specific that the men were saying. When I reached the far end of the chapel, I could make out the faint, dark outline of a second door. I settled in to wait, realizing there’d be no getting down and through the door without them noticing.

    Happily, I didn’t have to wait very long. After a couple of minutes walking between the frozen people, snapping or waving in front of their faces, the men seemed to bore. They wound their way back to the door through which they’d entered and left. I remembered just in time to close my eyes to retain what little night-vision I’d achieved. Shaking my head to myself, I lowered my body carefully from the beam, until my questing toes encountered the back of a pew. My other foot joined it, and I bounced quietly to the floor. I put my ear to the new door, and hearing nothing, I pushed it open enough to slip through.

  I was blinded again, this time by a normal level of light rather than a lack thereof. Blinking rapidly, I took in my new surroundings. I was in an office, of sorts. Dim, half lighting revealed various cubicles stretched in front of me that ran to my right, and a hall of actual, private offices with windows and blinds to the left. I chose left, creeping down the hall. I peeked into the offices and continued on, pausing at one with a door on the opposite side of the small room. After a brief look around, I padded into the office, heading for the door. I listened again, heard nothing again, and turned the knob. I pulled the door halfway open, and peeked outside. It was a reception area, open and airy, admitting natural light from large windowed doors to the outside. Empty.

   I let out a quiet sigh of relief, the air whooshing out of my and slumping my shoulders. I opened the door the rest of the way and as I stepped through a quiet voice whispered, “Freeze.” I froze. My foot mid-step, my hand clamped around the doorknob. I wanted to look round, see who had spoken, but my head wouldn’t move. Indeed, my entire body suddenly seemed to be more inclined to follow the command of an unknown stranger than my own; I couldn’t even put my foot the rest of the way down. I jumped when a hand clamped onto my forearm… or rather, my heart jumped, and my adrenaline spiked. My body, however, remained still. Frozen, as commanded. What the –?

  “Relax your body, but don’t move after,” came the voice again. I registered a man’s voice before becoming distracted by my body inexplicably following his instructions. My foot came down, and drew back so I was standing rather than walking, my arms dropped loosely to my sides. “What –?” I started to ask, but he cut me off, “Don’t make a sound.” My mouth wouldn’t move, and after some effort, I realized I couldn’t hum or even breathe loudly. My heart pounded, and my traitorous knees felt weak. “Walk to the nearest sofa, then sit down and be still.” Before his words fully registered, my body was carrying me into the reception area toward a couch situated between two armchairs. I reached the couch, and as my body turned around to sit, I could finally see the stranger.

   He was somewhere near thirty, wearing a neat suit with no tie. He had dark hair, swept precisely off his forehead, and a closely trimmed beard. I was registering my surprise at his youth and (embarrassing as it is to admit) good looks, when I felt my knees bend, and my backside hit the couch. I sat, my back ramrod straight, and stared at the human puppeteer. Looking me over appraisingly, he instructed me to place my palms together and rest them on my knees, which I did. The strange, unmoving people in the chapel suddenly made a lot of sense.

    The man nodded to himself, as if checking off a task, then un-buttoned his jacket and sat down beside me, lounging back. Without warning, he placed a firm hand on my back. Again, I would have jumped had his command not rooted me in place. The man reached into his pocket with his other hand, withdrew a phone, and began texting someone. When he finished, he returned it and sat quietly, waiting. His right hand occasionally stroked my back absentmindedly, making me tense.

    I could tense! A flood of relief rushed through me at that tiny bit of agency. While we waited, I tensed all of the muscles I could, starting from my toes and moving up. I couldn’t move anything around, and simply tensing or flexing took massive effort, but it was something. Sadly, I could do nothing with my hands, barely managing a twitch, but the rest of my muscles responded and I was able to flex my arms and even my shoulders lightly. The man’s hand on my back stilled, and my stomach dropped. I’d been so focused on trying to move I’d failed to consider he might notice. There was a roaring in my ears as I waited for his reaction.

       He said nothing, and after a moment, his hand resumed lazily tracing patterns into my back. The relief I felt would’ve normally caused my shoulders to slump, but they stayed still as instructed. I concentrated my focus on my hands. The twitch had been better than nothing, and I could work with that. I couldn’t even begin to pull my hands apart, so instead I worked to flex my fingers, or maybe twist my palms against each other, taking care not to even twitch my shoulders. With the man leaning back into the couch, I couldn’t see him, only his legs next to mine, and an occasional flash of his arm in my periphery. I wondered if he was watching me, or merely staring off into space, so confident in his little trick that he didn’t feel the need to monitor me.

   I had finally gotten my fingers to bend consistently, though they stayed glued together, when I heard footsteps approaching. The hand dropped from my back and the man stood, re-buttoning his jacket, and walked somewhere to my left and back. My body tensed, wishing to run, but knowing I couldn’t.

  I had an idea burrowing into my head that if I could break one of his specific commands, even separating my hands, I’d be able to regain full control. With the man’s attention focused on the incoming footsteps, I put my all into twisting my palms against each other. I strained until the fingers of my right hand pointed straight up, while the left remained pointed ahead. With herculean effort, I pulled my right hand toward my chest while pushing the left straight forward. I just needed my palms to separate!

    Voiced greetings snapped my attention to the present, and my hands back into position. I could’ve screamed with frustration. I looked left, wondering if they’d noticed. Standing where they were, I couldn’t see them, even straining my eyes as hard as I was. After a beat, the man led the well dressed newcomers into my field of vision. My eyes widened slightly, and the three smiled at my minute reaction. They were teenagers. A boy and a girl, both blonde and pretty, maybe fourteen or fifteen years old. I looked between the three of them, puzzled.  

    The man stepped forward, “I apologize for the wait, and I thank you for your patience,” he began, smiling at his own joke as if I’d had a choice. “My friends here were seeing to other matters,” he continued, nodding to the teens, “their skills being something of a precious commodity, and I didn’t wish to rush them. Besides,” he mused, eyes twinkling mischievously, “I rather enjoyed our time together.” I would have frowned if I could, but he read my confusion (and annoyance?) in my eyes as if he’d had practice reading frozen faces. Which, I supposed, he had.

     “I have a number of questions to ask you, and, not wishing to waste time waiting for you to pick over what you’d like to tell me, I’ve brought my dear friend Annika here to find the truth.” The girl gave a smile and a small wave when her name was mentioned. “Annika has the incredible ability to hear the thoughts inside your head,” claimed the man. I stared at him. He smiled indulgently at the cynicism he read on me, as well as my internal speculation as to his sanity. “You find your body controlled by the mere words of another and telepathy is beyond belief?” He laughed softly when I looked at the floor in consternation.

                  That was a good point.

   Sliding his hands into his pockets, the man stepped forward. “I’m going to ask you a series of questions, and when you think of the answer she’ll tell me what it is. It’s quite handy, because it’s not really possible to lie this way. When I say ‘don’t think of a pink elephant’ that’s exactly what flashes through your head.” He shrugged, “In the same vein, when I ask you a question, the correct, honest answer is the first thing that pops up. The notion to lie or make up a story comes after, and by that point Annika has already told me the truth. It’s a wonderful, painless way to obtain information, don’t you think?” he concluded, looking pleased with himself.

   My eyes stayed on the floor. If I could have furrowed my brow, I would have. I was utterly baffled by this current turn of events. I couldn’t fathom any possible line of questioning they’d have for me, let alone one that would require such lengths to ensure honesty. His point had convinced me she was legitimate, or at the very least he believed she was.. All I could do was watch their feet as they approached me. The boy perched on the arm of the couch, and the girl, Annika, sat down on my right side. The man resumed his place at my left, sitting forward attentively this time, his knee touching mine. I watched Annika’s hand take hold of my wrist, her hand dainty and warm, skin to skin. My scalp started to prickle, and I dimly wondered why she didn’t take one of my hands if she had to touch me. Internally rolling my eyes, I concluded that she didn’t want to break Mr. Suit’s favorite pose.

    She let out a small giggle, and my eyes snapped to her face. The man tilted his head and she turned her gaze to him, opening her mouth to speak, a pretty smile on her face. She paused and briefly turned back to me and said, “Thank you!” before again facing the man. I stared at her hand on my arm. Shit. She giggled again and told the man, “She’s funny.” A brow lifted and she continued, “She words things in her head in a way that just makes me laugh.” My heart began to race again.

   I’d thought I believed him, but had I really? She couldn’t…

 “I can,” she laughed, and my heart stuttered. “She only has my name, so she’s been calling you funny names in her head. Not like, bad names or anything, but it’s still funny.” She turned to the boy, “Nothing funny for you I’m afraid, Andrew, she was just calling you ‘the boy’, but you, sir,” She turned back. “You’re ‘puppeteer’, you’re ‘Mr. Suit’, you’re ‘creepy-evil-guy-who-shouldn’t-be-so-attractive’..” She trailed off with a giggle. My cheeks burned. “Aw, she’s blushing!” laughed the boy, Andrew. I closed my eyes, trying to block out the impossible embarrassment. “You guessed right, you know,” Annika chimed, my eyes cracking open to peek at her. “We are twins!” I wanted to nod politely, but of course couldn’t. Her uncanny ability told her anyway, and she smiled.

   “She’s really nice, all things considered. Most people are cursing me out in their heads by now.” My thoughts flashed to a moment prior. Smiling patiently, she patted my hand, “You didn’t call me anything. Thinking ‘shit’ was just you realizing that this was actually, really happening.” She turned to the suit conspiratorially, “She thought I was pretty you know. She’s scared out of her mind and she’s still really sweet. Oh, and his name is Mr. Flint, by the way,” she said, turning back to me, “he does wear great suits, though.” The man smiled indulgently, and I went back to staring at the floor. Could you please not do that? I thought. She squeezed my hand softly. I took that as a ‘no’. A kind one, in spite of the circumstances. She looked at “Mr. Flint”, then turned to me. “Let’s start with your name.” Ava. “And how you came to be sneaking through these offices.”

   Unable to talk, I thought about my day leading up to this moment. How had a simple trip to the store turned into a psychic interrogation? I had no idea who these people were, why they were here, or the purpose behind the chapel of zombies, as I’d taken to thinking of them. Annika tilted her head, frowning. “Is that true, Ava?” Hearing her use my name, my eyes jumped to meet hers. She gazed at me with concern. I don’t know anything, I thought, I don’t know what’s going on and I don’t know why. I don’t understand what’s happening. I blinked rapidly, quickly clearing the embarrassed/frightened tears that were trying to blur my vision. Her eyes softened. She looked at “Mr. Flint” and tilted her head to the left, gesturing with her chin.

     They stood, walking out of sight, Andrew trailing behind them. I stared after them, trying in vain to pick out specific words from the quiet murmur I could hear. Failing that, I began to flex my fingers again. They were easier to bend this time. Maybe it was because he was no longer touching me. Maybe his commands wore off after a little time. It still took immense effort, but twisting my palms took much less time, and I began the pull-push motion I’d been attempting earlier. I was so close. I could hear them talking, was it louder? Were they moving closer? I could feel sweat beading under my hair. Less than a half inch. My muscles shook, fighting each other.

    My palms parted, and it felt like I could finally breathe. Strength flooded my limbs and I leapt to my feet. Not pausing to wait for them to notice, I charged through the door and outside.

                                                                       * * *

     Blinking in the sun, I found myself on a mountainside, lush and verdant. I looked around, for a moment, then charged down the slope. Dodging trees and leaping boulders, I whooped. It sure was nice outside. I tumbled down the hill and nearly bowled over a small group of people. When we righted ourselves, I was thrilled to recognize my friends. After a brief exchange of pleasantries, we resumed our descent, passing the occasional house.

    As we neared the foot of the mountain, we heard a deep boom, followed by a thunderous roar. The dam had burst. The water was coming. Concluding we lacked sufficient time to make it across the bowl to our vehicles that awaited us on the opposite slope, we searched for higher ground. (That wouldn’t require re-climbing the mountain we’d just descended.)

   The house nearest to us stood in the shade of two massive trees, their trunks so thick it would take at least four of us to wrap our arms around their trunks. We scrambled onto the roof from the top of a shed  next to the house. We ran across the roof, teasing those who tripped even as we lifted them back up. We split into two groups, one for each tree. Two by two, we leapt from the roof onto the nearest branches and began to climb. Shouting taunts and jokes to one another, we situated ourselves as securely as we could, and held on for dear life. The crashing water felled dozens upon dozens of smaller trees, and with a great creaking groan, the house was ripped from its foundation and swept away.

Well, that’s all, folks. It was a weird one, but really, when aren’t my dreams weird?

[awhitehead17]

Everything’s Out Of Control

Chapter 4 / Previous Chapter

Also on AO3

Enjoy! :D

It’s undeniably awkward between them as Alec shows him how to work the shower. Tim tries to not pay too much attention to the tense atmosphere around them as he listens to the man’s instructions. It seems simple enough, he’s pretty sure he can work it.

“So that's it. Magnus said there’s clothes for you in the bedroom and for your friend when he wakes up.” Alec tells him stepping away from the shower and looking at him. “I have work that needs to be done, though I be around if you need me at all.”

Tim nods in understanding. “Yeah, okay. Thank you.”

Alec gives him a nod before turning and walking out of the bathroom. Tim blinks at his departure, trying to wrap his head around that awkward interaction. Obviously there was tension between the two of them, Tim doesn’t know what he’s done to offend Alec, then again having a stranger stay in your home is enough to put anyone on edge. It probably doesn’t help that Tim is a stranger from a different world.

Before getting into the shower Tim heads back to the bedroom he’s been allocated. He instantly sees the new piles of clothes on the desk that hadn’t been there before as well as his utility belt. Tim is surprised to see his possession but is grateful for it nonetheless, Magnus must have put it there at the same time as the clothes. The rest of his suit is still missing, but at least he’s got the most important thing back.

After grabbing the clothes intended for him, Tim checks on Kon. His best friend’s still asleep in the same position Tim had left him in. For a moment Tim debates on whether he should wake Kon up or not, however in the end he decides against it. Kon needs to rest, after everything that had happened, he deserves it at least.

Tim heads for the bathroom and turns the shower on, letting out a long sigh as the hot water hits his body. While he mechanically washes his hair and body, his mind reels at 100 mph, thinking over recent events.

This world is nothing like his own. He’s so out of his element. Usually he’s more controlled than this, knows how to adapt to the environment around him, knows what to do and when and if that doesn’t work then at least he has a backup plan.

Here however, nothing. He has no control over anything and it terrifies him. Not only that, but both he and Kon almost got killed in literal minutes of entering this world. It’s pure coincidence that the man they were looking for happened to be the one to save them.

Eventually he steps out of the warm shower and dries off before changing into the new clothes. A simple black t-shirt and grey sweatpants. Tim is both surprised and not when he finds they fit him perfectly. He bundles his own clothes up and heads for the bedroom again.

He watches Kon for a moment, trying to decide on what to do. He knows Alec is around but he would rather give the man some space, also he said he had work to do and Tim didn’t want to interrupt that. Tim still didn’t want to wake Kon because his friend needed the rest therefore leaving Tim to his own devices.

His utility belt catches his attention again and Tim decides on what he’s going to do to kill some time. Quietly settling down at the desk, he begins fiddling and sorting out his belt. He's making sure everything was still in order, that none of his weapons or gadgets were missing and that everything’s still working as it’s supposed to.

As Tim plays with his belt, he loses track of time. He’s only brought away from his task when a knock from the door gets his attention. Tim looks up as Alec enters the room. The man eyes him at the desk then at Kon’s still sleeping form.

He looks back at Tim, “It’s been a few hours, would you like something to eat or drink? I know you didn’t eat anything at breakfast.”

Tim is taken back by the offer. When he doesn’t respond Alec continues speaking, unperturbed by his silence. “Has he woken up yet? Or has anything changed?”

“No he hasn’t woken up yet,” Tim says glancing at Kon, “I’ve just let him sleep, figuring he needs it. Should I be worried that he’s been asleep for this long?”

Alec shakes his head. “Not really, getting healed by magic and even recovering from a demon wound can really take it out of the body. It can be a long healing process. If he’s still asleep by the time Magnus returns then Magnus can check him over.”

Tim mutely nods. Of course he’s worried about Kon, but again this is something he can’t control, he doesn’t know the ins and outs of recovering from a demon wound or whatever, he’s currently useless to Kon.

“Come on,” Alec says starting to walk back out of the bedroom, “If I don’t feed you then Magnus will have my head.”

Tim sighs and almost reluctantly follows the man out of the room. It’s true he hasn’t eaten but he doesn’t know if he’s actually feeling hungry or not.

They head to the kitchen and Tim settles down at the table as Alec moves about the room. He brings over a couple plates of food and a mug full of coffee for Tim before joining him at the table. Tim notices that some of the food in front of him was from the breakfast spread earlier along with a sandwich.

The two of them sit at the table and eat their lunches in silence. Tim doesn’t mind it, as it once again allows him to get lost in own thoughts, meanwhile Alec’s focus was on some paperwork he had brought to the table with him.

About halfway through lunch, Tim excuses himself from the table to go to the toilet. When he returns it’s to hear Alec on the phone. Instead of returning to the table, Tim hangs back and silently observes the man speaking.

“-and why did you feel the need to call me? Seriously Jace? By the angel, you can handle that on your own! Don’t blame me for your own mistakes and don’t try to drag Izzy into this mess either.”

There’s a long pause and Tim has to hold back a smirk when he sees Alec roll his eyes. It was rather comical to see the action performed by the man.

“Enough. You know, this behaviour makes me wonder how you would survive without me. Uh huh, sure Jace.”

There's a second pause and suddenly Alec’s eyes go wide in a panicked sort of way.

“Don’t put her on the phone! Jace. Jace!” Alec then lets out a long defeated sigh. “Hi Izzy. I don’t know, probably tomorrow. Magnus has some clients he needs to see and I’m not going to leave two strangers lone in his apartment, even if one of them is unconscious. They’re fine Iz. I don’t know, the sooner we can help them and then return them back to their world the better.”

Tim finds it amusing how Alec’s tone of voice goes from being exasperated to concerned to annoyed and back to being exasperated again. It makes him wonder why it seemed to familiar, the fondness mixed with annoyance.

“No you don’t need to come over. No! The less people they meet the better, you do not need to get involved. They’ll be fine, Magnus and I are perfectly capable of looking after a couple of teenagers even if they are from a different world. You wound me Izzy. Definitely not, you are not bringing Simon over no matter how much he wants to meet multidimensional travelling teenagers. No. Right that’s it I’m hanging up. Bye.”

Tim watches as Alec drops the phone down onto the table and rubs a hand over his face. He chooses that moment to re-enter the kitchen and make his presence known. “That sounded like a heavy conversation.” Tim comments sitting down.

Alec sighs again and rolls his eyes. “It’s my siblings, unable to look after themselves as usual.”

It suddenly clicks on why his behaviour seemed familiar. It’s the way Dick sounds after he's had to deal with his sibling’s nonsense. It’s an older brother thing apparently.

Tim continues eating his lunch. “How many siblings do you have?”

Alec glances at him before looking at his papers again. “I have three but it always feels like I have more.”

Tim couldn’t help but snort in agreement. “I know exactly what you mean.”

“Oh yeah? How many do you have?”

“Technically; four adopted brothers, one adopted sister and a very close extended family. I think there’s like nine of us in total.” There’s a sudden tightness in his chest as he thinks about his family back home. He tries to not dwell on it, he’s sure he’ll be seeing their annoying faces again soon enough.

“Oh wow. Big family then,” Alec comments surprised. “I have one sister and two brothers.”

Tim smiles, at least there’s similar between the two of them. “Despite how much of a pain in the ass they all are, I wouldn’t trade them for anything.”

Alec nods like he agrees. That’s when their conversation dies off, Alec continues with his paperwork while Tim finishes off his lunch. Once he's done eating he gets up and takes his plate, as well as Alec’s, to the sink to wash them up.

He washes the dishes in silence and puts them on the drying rack to dry out. When he turns back around he finds Alec watching him from his position at the table, the man meets his gaze steadily, though the corners of his lips turn down in a small frown. “I don’t mean to be rude, but how old are you? You seem young and have an awful amount of scars.”

Tim blinks at the suddenness of the question, unexpecting Alec to jump straight to the point. After a moment he sighs and wonders back to his chair at the table, he should have seen this coming to be honest. He is covered in scars, his arms, knuckles, hands and even his neck.

“I’m eighteen.” He says curtly. He refuses to look at the older man as he fiddles with his own fingers. “The scars are just part of the job.”

Even though he’s not looking at the man, he can certainly feel the heaviness of his stare on him. Alec’s looking at him like he's a wounded puppy or something. It irritates Tim in a way he hadn’t expected. The scars are part of the job, it’s what happens and he learnt a long time ago to accept that.

“What kind of job do you do?” The man questions him curiously.

His first instinct is to refuse telling him, again about those secret identities but for some reason Tim pushes those feelings to the side and opens up to the man. He outlines his nightly activities in Gotham, explaining the cruelty of the city to this man (however keeps everyone else’s names out of it.)

Alec silently nods as he follows Tim’s speech, like he understands all of the fighting and reason behind his duties and why he does what he does. To Tim it almost feels like it’s refreshing in a way.

As he finishes up he shrugs helplessly, “It’s my life really. I take each day at a time and continue to fight where I can.”

“Circumstances may be slightly different, but I know how you feel,” Alec says sympathetically. “Being raised and having to train every day to prove yourself and fighting each day to make the world a better place and to protect those closet to you. It’s a lot to take on.”

Tim hums. “You said you were a… shadowhunter? What does that entail?” This is another opportunity to find out more about this world and the differences it has.

“Well, shadowhunters are people who are born with angel blood. Our job is to maintain peace in what we call the Shadow World and keep it hidden from mundanes.”

Tim blinks at that information. That’s very different than just dressing up in a load of armour and fighting criminals.

“Our angelic blood allows us to have different abilities, these come through our runes,” Alec sits up straighter and spreads his arms, with a hand he gestures to all of the tattoos visible on his pale skin. Tim hums in acknowledgment, so that's what the tattoos are, they actually mean something and not just because the guy likes weird symbols all over his body. “We fight things like demons, help keep peace between the downworlder’s such as vampires, werewolves, faeries and warlocks.”

Tim listens with rapt attention as Alec goes on explaining about the world he lives in. It’s extremely interesting to find out that all of these species actually exist and aren’t just made up myths. Now that Tim’s had some time to digest the knowledge, he finds it fascinating.

The two of them talk about their worlds for a while, they simply chat at the table comparing stories. However their pleasant chat has to come to an end when Alec says he needs to finish off his paperwork. Tim feels slightly guilty for completely side-tracking the man, Alec sees his poorly concealed expression and waves it off with a laugh.

Leaving Alec to get on with his work, Tim decides to go check on Kon to see if his best friend has finally woken up yet. As he gets up from the table the older man sends him a curious look, “you said you knew multiple forms of combat, want to do some training later?”

The unexpected question makes Tim pause, he turns his gaze on Alec thinking about it. He soon smiles, “sure, sounds like you have enough skill behind you too, I think it’ll be an interesting match.”

Tim turns away before Alec could respond, he figures getting in some training wouldn’t hurt anyone. Also sparring against someone different will be refreshing, he’s so used to training with his family that someone else with an entirely different approach to combat will make it unpredictable and challenging.

Kon’s still asleep when Tim enters the room. Closing the door behind him, Tim studies his best friend who was still deeply asleep on the bed, this time however Kon is now on his other side, clutching a pillow with one arm while his head rests on the other.

Unable to help himself, Tim stands there staring at his sleeping friend. He takes in the way Kon looks so relaxed and young like there hadn’t been anything wrong in his life. His best friend has been through hell and back and yet he continues to fight every day, that’s something Tim loves about him.

Tim shakes his head to get rid of those thoughts and strolls over to the bed. He gently sits down on the edge, ignoring the urge to simply staddle Kon and kiss him awake, and reaches out to shake Kon’s shoulder. The Kryptonian’s been asleep for a long time and Tim wants to make sure there is nothing wrong despite what Alec has said.

After a few moments of shaking Kon finally stirs. Tim holds back a laugh as he lets out a long groan and buries his face further into his arm.

“Kon get up.”

“Five more minutes…”

“You get five seconds before I’m getting the water.” Tim threatens with a smile.

Kon lets out another groan but does push himself up into a sitting position and with amusement Tim watches as his friend wakes up, as his mind starts trying to clear the fog that’s come over his brain. He sees the exact moment Kon seems to remember all of the current events that have happened to them, he shoots a wide-eyed look at Tim.

“What the hell happened dude? I don’t remember – everything’s just so hazy – how the hell…” Kon rattles off dozens of unfinished questions before quickly throwing off the bed covers and standing up. He looks down at himself, twisting this way and that, obviously looking for a wound on his immaculate skin.

Not seeing anything seems to make Kon go into a frenzy of panic. “What the hell! What attacked us Tim? How did we escape? Where are we? How am I not dead?”

Tim sighs and gets up, he walks around so he's facing Kon and pushes his friend down onto the bed, keeping a hand on his shoulder to help ground him.

This time Tim knows he can help, in this situation he isn’t useless because he has the answers, he has the knowledge that can help clear up some of the uncertainty. He looks Kon dead in the eyes and makes sure he has his attention. “Kon listen to me. A lot has happened recently, I’ve just mostly wrapped my head around it but I can explain it all.”

Kon takes a deep breath and lets it out, nodding at Tim’s words. “Yeah, yeah, okay. I trust you. Please just tell me what’s going on and what happened.”

Unexplainable feelings explode inside of Tim as Kon declares his trust in him. It warms him to know that Kon still, even after all of this time, trusts him no matter what.

Settling on the bed opposite Kon, Tim begins to describe everything to Kon. It takes a while with the occasional interruption when Kon has a question but Tim is able to get Kon up to speed with all of the information on this world and of what happened to him.

“Jesus Tim, that’s a lot man…” Kon sighs looking resigned.

Tim hums, having already accepted that. “Yeah, this place is certainly different.”

“I’m sorry you had to endure that on your own Tim. I should have been awake with you, not leaving you alone to deal with them….”

Tim’s taken back by Kon’s apology. It takes a moment for him to even respond to it because he has to try and work out why Kon is even apologizing to begin with.

“Why are you sorry? You did nothing wrong, if anything I should be the one apologizing! After all I was useless and unable to help you from getting wounded. If Magnus hadn’t been there, you, and even me, would be dead.”

Kon’s head snaps up and he pierces Tim with a look. “Don’t. Don’t even bother Tim. None of this is your fault, me getting injured isn’t your fault, not having any idea on what to do isn’t your fault either. We’re in a world that is completely different to ours, despite the warnings nothing could have prepared us for what we faced in that alley Tim. I know you like to know everything and have plans for your back up plans but even you couldn’t have predicted what was going to happen.”

His words are meaningful but they still make Tim scowl and look away shamefully. He’s been trained to be better than this. Kon almost died and that’s just something Tim couldn’t take lightly. Of course he can’t handle seeing anyone he loves hurt, but Kon’s different. He literally wouldn’t survive if he loses Kon a second time.

A soft sigh grabs his attention and before he knows it, he’s being pulled off the bed and into a hug. Kon’s arms encase him and Tim finds himself unable to resist the embrace. Tim wraps his own arms around Kon’s torso and rests his head against Kon’s neck, accepting the comfort his friend is giving him. The hug may not drive off the negative and self-loathing thoughts, but it helps him to remember that Kon is alive and currently there with him.

The hug lasts longer than what it probably should have, but neither of them seem to mind and both seem reluctant to pull away. Eventually they do and only because of the sound Kon’s stomach makes.

Kon laughs and leans away from Tim looking at him sheepishly. “Sorry. I guess it’s been a while since I last ate, is there any food here I can have? Also is there a shower while I think about it? I want to clean up a bit.”

Tim smiles and nods. “Yeah there is. I can ask Alec to get something for you now you’re up. There is also a shower you can use yes, they had no problem with me using it so you should be fine.”

It’s as he finishes talking that Tim realises how close the two of them were still standing. Tim even still has an arm wrapped around Kon and one of Kon’s arms around his neck from where they hadn’t fully pulled apart from the hug.

Embarrassment rises inside of Tim and he quickly steps backwards out of Kon’s hold. Feeling his face go hot, he turns around and looks for something to distract him and seeing the clothes intended for Kon on the desk is enough.

Tim goes over and grabs them, using the small amount of time to get control of his emotions again. By the time he turns back to Kon he thinks he’s calmed down enough. “Here, Magnus said these were for you. If you have a shower first then I can get you some food. I’ll show you where the bathroom is.” Tim hands Kon the clothes and heads out of the bedroom with Kon on his heels.

Like Alec had done to him earlier, Tim shows Kon how to work the shower and leaves him to it. Upon leaving the bathroom in order to find Alec to ask about food for Kon, Tim tries to clear his thoughts before he starts overthinking everything that’s just occurred between him and Kon. Now wasn’t really the time to start over analysing his friendship with Kon, there were more important things to be dealing with rather than his feelings for his best friend.

[teenyrps]

💘 + all of them ho

send me 💘 + A SHIP and i’ll tell you—

NARITY

where they first met and how: in a club in new york. nate was trying to hide from his surprise blind date and verity was trying to get her friends off her back. she propositioned him with the intent to ditch him the moment they made it outside, but even from the beginning, they’ve never been able to resist each other.

how long their ‘flirting’ phase was before feelings got involved: pretty sure nate was in love the moment he laid eyes on her. lest we forget he’s a FUCKIN SIMP.

who fell for who first: nate probably.

where their first date was and what it was like: battery park, i guess? nate was nervous, fumbling through dumb jokes, and probably got caught staring because he just couldn’t help himself. he thought about holding her hand the whole time, again, LIKE A SIMP.

who asks who out and how: they never had a moment where they were like “so we’re dating now, right?” they were just together.

who proposes first: nate.

if they keep / kept their relationship secret or let everyone know right away: they didn’t keep their relationship secret, they just didn’t feel as though it was anyone else’s business. they’re both private people, so if you saw them out together, cool. if not, cool. they’re too consumed with each other to really care.

where the proposal happens and how: first with a metal washer in his cousin’s nursery and then again at 5am, hungover, in his boxers after she’d ditched him for five days.

if they adopt any pets together: NORBERT THE GREMLIN

who’s more dominant: in life? verity. in bed? nate.

where their first kiss was and what it was like: i feel like nate probably would have tried to kiss her when they met up in battery park? whether or not she let him is another story, but he would have held her face in his hands with a sort of reverence he didn’t deserve to have after only knowing her for a few hours. it would have been soft and sweet to start and would have ended a little oooh is it hot in here

if they have any matching couples stuff: nah. they have shirts that match but only because verity steals his and wears them. he’s totally fine with it.

how into pda they are: they fuck in public ok.

who holds the umbrella when it rains: idk nate’s from washington, he probably only uses an umbrella a third of the time, he’s used to it. but he’d hold it for her because he lives to serve.

where their usual ‘date spot’ is: a bed, a wall, some random room at a party, a car. basically like a dr. seuss book.

who’s more protective: nate

how long it is before they sleep together: pretty sure verity made him wait a while. at least a month. maybe more. and you know he fkn waited.

if they argue about anything: they argue about everything. it’s forplay

who leaves more marks: oof, i don’t know, it might be pretty even?

who steals whose clothes and how often: verity steals his clothes always.

how they cuddle: i don’t feel like they have a favorite position? nate just always wants to be touching her

what their favourite nonsexual activity is: arguing

how long they stay mad at each other: sometimes minutes, sometimes years. it depends on the mood, i guess.

what their usual coffee / tea orders are: black. sometimes nate likes oat milk in his

if they ever have any children together: unfairity rip

if they have any special pet names for each other: nah. nate calls her baby but nothing gross like schnookums or w/e

if they ever split up and / or get back together: lmao, did you mean their entire relationship

what their shared living space is like: nate isn’t much of a decorator. when he lived alone, he was very minimalist bc he didn’t really care that much. so verity gets to take the lead with the decorating, which means gothic, artsy, high fkn class. he knows better than to fuck with her aesthetic

what their first christmas / hanukkah / etc as a couple was like: they prob just snuck off to bang

what their names are in each other’s phones: she’s in his as verity, he’s in hers as w/e she’s feeling about him that day. ned whiteforest, mortal enemy, etc

if they have any ‘couple traditions’: arguing?

who falls asleep first and who wakes up first: verity goes to sleep first (because she sleeps better when he’s in bed with her) and nate wakes up first. usually.

who’s the big spoon / little spoon: nate likes to be the big spoon but he doesn’t care as long as he’s touching her

who kills the spiders / takes them outside: i feel like nate would put a cup over it to deal with later bc he’s a lowkey bitch and verity would just be like FOR FUCKS SAKE and squish it with some toilet paper and call it a day

ALBEC

where they first met and how: either on the mission that sealed her fate with the pirates or shortly thereafter when she was taken back to the camp. either way, it wasn’t exactly pleasant

how long their ‘flirting’ phase was before feelings got involved: feelings were always involved. they were just feelings like annoyance and jealousy and frustration.

where their first date was and what it was like: idk i feel like maybe they get sent on a mission together and take a little detour, sneak a bottle of wine from somewhere and find a little place not completely covered in dust and sand and just get wine drunk and shit talk each other and laugh. and it wasn’t meant to be a date but the feeling sort of sneaks in halfway through, and there are a few lingering glances and shy smiles and even though both of them are having trouble keeping their eyes from falling to the other’s lips, it doesn’t end in a kiss. sexual tension baby

who asks who out and how: i’m still figuring out their dynamic but i feel like they’d start hanging out maybe and it’d feel like they were together but also not? and al would get so annoyed eventually she’d just demand that he tell her what they are 

who proposes first: beckett?

if they keep / kept their relationship secret or let everyone know right away: they’d probably keep it kind of secret, sneaking into each other’s rooms at night, finding reasons to wander away from camp, sharing secret smiles across the room.

where the proposal happens and how: good question! i’m glad you asked. idk

if they adopt any pets together: probably not

who’s more dominant: beckett probably. but al’s got a few surprises up her sleeve when she builds up some confidence and experience

where their first kiss was and what it was like: al shows up at beckett’s room after rolling around in bed unable to sleep. she stalks to his room, flustered and annoyed and she’s not really sure what she’s doing there or what she’s going to say when he opens the door, so she just sort of opens and closes her mouth for a moment and then just attacks his face with her face. because who needs words.

if they have any matching couples stuff: no

how into pda they are: probably not very? part of the fun might be in keeping it secret, anyway

who holds the umbrella when it rains: beckett is way taller than al so probs him. if they use them at all

where their usual ‘date spot’ is: they don’t have a usual spot, just somewhere with the least amount of dust

who’s more protective: beckett

how long it is before they sleep together: a long time

if they argue about anything: beckett likes to push her buttons, so they argue a lot

who leaves more marks: maybe al 👀

who steals whose clothes and how often: she probably steals a shirt to sleep in from time to time

how they cuddle: successfully.

what their favourite nonsexual activity is: playful shit talking <3

how long they stay mad at each other: al pretends to stay mad but he’s a charming idiot so it’s hard

what their usual coffee / tea orders are: another good question. don’t know

if they ever have any children together: i don’t actually feel like al wants to have children? not in the world as it is now

if they have any special pet names for each other: idk does idiot count?

if they ever split up and / or get back together: i don’t feel like they’d be an on/off couple?

what their shared living space is like: a little messy, a few plants, nothing too furnished because they’re always moving around.

what their first christmas / hanukkah / etc as a couple was like: al handmade him something, spent a lot of time on it and second-guessed herself the whole time. beckett pretended to like it even if he didn’t. or he totally roasted her. who knows

what their names are in each other’s phones: he’s in hers as just eyeroll emojis. he’s probably got some nickname for her that annoys her in his

if they have any ‘couple traditions’: training?

who falls asleep first and who wakes up first: al probably goes to sleep and wakes up first

who’s the big spoon / little spoon: al would enjoy being the little spoon i think

who kills the spiders / takes them outside: al would herd it into a cup or container and set it free. she’d probably even tell it to enjoy it’s freedom and call it ‘little buddy’

REVINIA 

you already did this and it was perfect???? 

[lovemychoices]

Always Be My Driver - A RoD Rom-Com [Colt x MC/Logan x MC]. CH 5

Book : RIDE OR DIE

PAIRING : Colt x MC/ Logan x MC

SUMMARY: Emma and Colt have been childhood best friends since forever, they were both inseparable. In middle school they became something more but when Colt had to move with his mom away from LA all the way to Miami, things started to change between them. A small misunderstanding leads to the end of their relationship. 6 years later they meet again at the most unlikely place. Will Emma and Colt be able to mend what has been broken between them? Or will it continue to crash and burn?

Characters except my OCs belong to Pixelberry, I am just borrowing them

Word count : 3262

Chapter Summary: All secrets eventually come to light.

A/N : Posting from my phone so like tag this under #long post. Sorry for any grammatical errors! I didn’t really have the time to double check my work.

Warning : I’m rating this PG18 cause there will probably be PG18 stuff that’s going to happen in future chapters. So if you read this series you acknowledge that.

Catch up with the series HERE

Dear Diary,

It’s been a few days since that night in Colt’s room and I haven’t been able to stop thinking about him. Do I still have feelings for him? Does he still have feelings for me?

Emma shakes her head at the thought.

Gosh I feel like the worst girlfriend ever, I have the best boyfriend in the world, who loves and trusts me. Yet here I am thinking about if Colt Kaneko still has feelings for me. With everything that’s been going on I’ve been debating whether or not I should come clean and tell Logan about it.

*****

Emma stands in front of her vanity mirror putting on the finishing touches of her make up. She and Logan had plans to go out tonight, it was their fourth double date with Riya and Darius and she couldn’t wait to hangout with them, especially if it meant she could get Colt off her mind.

The door to the loft opens and she beams when she sees it Logan walking in. “Hey beautiful, I haven’t seen you all day.” He murmured in a low husky voice while wrapping his arms around her waist and slowly tracing kisses down her neck. “You have no idea how much I’ve missed you.”

Emma Lets out a soft giggle. “But we just saw each other this morning.”

“Has it been that long already?”He continues to nip the side of her neck.

“Mmm... Logan .. Our friends are expecting us at the movies, we’re going to be late if you keep distracting me like this.”

“They can wait.. Right now I need you.” He slowly unties the knot on her robe, letting it fall to the floor leaving only her lingerie on. He spun her around and lifts her on top of the dresser, immediately capturing her lips in a heated kiss.

Emma wraps her leg around his waist, running her hand through his hair, a soft moan escapes her as she feels his warm lips pressed on her bare skin. “Logan, bed now.” She whimpers and he gave her a mischievous grin.

He swiftly lifts her up and carries her to the bed, gently throwing her on the mattress. He quickly takes off his shirt and jeans before getting on top of her. Emma pulls him in for a hungry kiss as Logan’s hand slowly traces tantalizing motions from her jaw then her breast all the way inside the waistband of her laced panties.

“Oh Logan..”

BAM! The door swings right open. Emma immediately pushes Logan off the bed and he falls to the hardwood floor with a loud thud. She grabs the blanket covering her half naked body.

“What the fuck Mona, don’t you knock? People are half naked over here!”

Mona snorts. “Oh please if I see something I haven’t seen before, I’ll throw a dollar at it.”

“What do you want, Mona?” Logan scowls.

“Boss wants to see you before you go out. I suggest you put on some pants before you do.” She grins.

Logan rolls his eyes at Mona before gathering his scattered clothes off the floor. He puts his jeans and shirt back on then heads out the door.

“Piece of advise Em, next time you and pretty boy over there are having at it, make sure you lock the door first. Wouldn’t want the wrong person barging in.”

*****

At the movies Emma and Riya stares at a poster that’s currently featured on the wall. Both the ladies were waiting for the guys to buy their popcorn and drinks. “Is it just me or does Matt Rodriquez looks like he doesn’t age?” Emma admiringly said with her arms crossed.

“I think he could be in his 50’s and still look like his in his late 30’s” Riya replied then turns to see if the guys were done but someone else catches her eye. “Um.. Emma, is it just me or does that guy over there remind you of Colt Kaneko?”

Emma’s breath hitched when she heard his name. Maybe Riya is mistaken, she hasn’t seen him in like forever. Emma slowly turns to where Riya is looking her eyes go wide. Holy Crap, it’s really him. What the hell is he doing here? “Emma are you alright?” But Riya’s words go unheard as she stomps over towards Colt.

“Colt? What are you doing here?”

Colt gives a half shrug. “Why else would someone go to the movies?”

“Wait, why does it sound like the two of you have already met before?” Riya asks with a confused look on her face.

“Well yeah, it’s hard not to run into each other when you live and work under the same roof.” Colt replies then arches an eyebrow at Riya. “I thought you knew?”

Emma closes her face with the palm of her hand, in the weeks since Colt arrived she didn’t mention any of it not even once to Riya during their calls or when they texted.

“Oh really?” Riya turns to Emma quirking an eyebrow at her. “Huh.. Must have slipped my mind.”

A few seconds later a young petite brunette approaches Colt and hooks her arm around his. “Sorry for keeping you waiting, the line at the restroom was just a total nightmare.” She smiles, turning her attention to Emma and Riya, eyeing them from head to toe. “I’m sorry'' Who are you?”

Colt gently slips his arm out from the brunette before introducing them. “Jean, this is Emma and Riya. Their friends of mine back when I lived in LA. Emma and Riya meet Jean, she also goes to MIT.”

“Ah so you two go to school together?” Emma chimes in. “Are you here for summer break?”

“Only for a few days.. Colt promised he’d show me around if I was ever in town.” She replies, looking fondly at Colt. “He sort of owes me after helping him with his robotics project last semester.”

“Well I’m sure you’ll have lost of fun if Colt’s your tour guide.” Emma gives Jean a gingerly smile before giving Colt a look. I hope you fall and hurt yourself, you asshole!

Just then Logan and Darius saunter towards the group holding two large buckets popcorn and a few soft drinks. When Logan notices Colt, he glares at him. “What are you doing here?”

“Not here to see you, if that’s what you’re implying” He answers in a disdain tone then turns to Darius. “Darius, haven’t seen you in a while.”

“Colt Kaneko? it’s been so long! Man I’d give you a hug but my hands are tied.” He gestured to the tub of popcorn and drinks in his hand. “How long have you been in town?”

“Okay! While I’d love to see where this reunion is going, don’t forget we have a movie to catch which starts in like 2 minutes.” Emma quickly interrupted. If she had to be in the same place as Colt and his date she’d just lose it. This couldn't get any worse. But she spoke too soon, turns out Colt and his date were watching the same movie too and they were seated right in front of her and Logan. She couldn't keep her eyes off Colt and Jean the whole time, she practically almost missed the first half of the movie. What was it that was bugging her so much?

Halfway towards the end of the movie, Emma sees Jean slowly cozying up to Colt and she didn't know what came over her next but she abruptly gives a strong kicks on Colt's Chair making a thud sound startling him and his date. They both turn to look at her with their eyebrows raised while Logan eyes her suspiciously. "Sorry… I got excited from the scene." She said dryly.

Colt whispers something into his date's ear then shortly after he gets up and walks out of the theatre. Emma anxiously taps her fingers on the arm of the chair. Where does he think he's going?! "Hey I’m out of milk duds." She lied.

“Want me to go out and get some more?”

���No, I’ll get them myself. I need a quick run to the ladies room anyway.” She said giving him a chaste kiss before going out. Emma scans around the hall to see where Colt went. When she does she quickly follows him not realizing where he went. "What do you think you’re doing?!”

"Christ! Emma what are you doing in here?!" Colt jumps up, quickly zipping his pants. "You do know this is the men's room right?"

Holy shit! He's right! It's alright you've been in more humiliating situations before. "Don't change the subject, why are you following me?"

"Uh…I’m not the one in the mens room?" He gives her a sly grin. "What’s this really about, Emma?"

“I.. I don’t know what you mean.” She mumbled nervously with her eyes downcast. Colt scoffed. “You know exactly what I mean.. Did you think I wouldn't notice you intentionally kicking the back of my head just as things between me and Jean were getting comfy? Just admit it Em, you’re jealous.”

Don’t let him get to you. “As if…” She replied with a scoff. “I see something’s haven’t changed, Colt. You’re still as narcissistic as ever.”

“And you still can’t lie to me even if your life depended on it.” He retorts, stepping closer towards her. She could feel her heart pounding as he stands right in front of her, their body’s barely an inch away from each other. Once again they found themselves in the same position as the night before, both gazing into each other’s eyes with a sense of longing and their lips only one move away from a kiss. Do it already, just kiss me.

Colt takes one more step forward slowly leaning in, Emma could feel her heart pounding fast. She closes her eyes ready for what's about to come when she hears the sound of something being pulled out. She opens her eyes and see Colt taking a few pieces of toilet paper from the dispenser behind her. “You were in the way.”

She immediately felt her cheeks flush but tries to hide how embarrassed she was. “Okay.. So I need to go back to the movie before my boyfriend who I love very much gets worried.” She turns on her heels and bites her tongue hoping he wouldn’t notice that she thought he was going to kiss her because the last thing she needed was to be humiliated by Colt.

****

After the movies Emma, Logan, Riya and Darius continued their double date for dinner at a new korean restaurant. They were greeted by a waitress who started taking their orders. “Emma what are you going to order? Logan asked.

But Emma was too busy paying attention to her phone, stalking Colt’s date on pictagram to bother with everyone else around her. So she goes to MIT with Colt and She’s a sophomore. Originally from Boston. Urgh.. She’s a cat person! Well that would never work because Colt’s allergic to cats, plus he’s a dog person just like me. A new picture pops up on her pictagram. No he didn’t is that Barry’s Ice Cream shop? He took her to our favorite ice cream shop! Wait there is no reason to be jealous you’ve taken Logan there plenty of times.

“Earth to Emma!” She finally snaps out of it Her thoughts.“Huh what?”

“It’s your turn to order..” Riya glares at her.

“Oh right um.. So I’ll have the bulgogi and kimchi fried rice and some green tea.” She tells the waitress and hands her back the menu, when she looks around the table everyone is staring at her in a curious way. “What? Do I have something on my face?”

“No but are you okay? You’ve been acting weird since we left the movies?” Logan asks with a concerned look on his face. “I’m fine..” She sputters. “I need to use the restroom.. Excuse me one moment.”

“I just realized I need to use the restroom too.” Riya said following Emma from behind. When they reach the washroom Emma lets out a loud growl while Riya gives her a questionable look. “Okay what’s going on?” She crosses her arms. “You’ve been acting all weird since we saw Colt at the movies. Which by the way, you didn’t mention was back in town and not only that his dad happens to be your boss?”

“It slipped my mind okay? Besides, I didn’t think it was a big deal that I needed to tell you.”

“Not a big deal? Emma, this is not just some other guy you just met. It’s Colt Kaneko we’re talking about. He was your best friend, he was the first guy you ever loved.”

“We.. We were just kids. Those feelings, they were just part of some teenage phase and I’m over it.”

“Oh really?” Riya gives Emma a pointed look. “Is that why you’ve been stalking his date since we left the movie?”

Emma let out a nervous snort. “I have not.”

“Prove it..” Riya gives Emma a challenging stare with her arms folded on her waist. Emma finally admits defeat and tell every single detail that’s been going on since Colt came back and Riya listens intently.

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

Meanwhile back at their table Logan and Darius both gives each other a questionable look as the girl's head to the washroom. “What was that all about?” Darius asks. “Beats me.” Logan snorts

“So I’ve been meaning to ask you, how do you know Colt?”

“Colt? I met him in 7th grade through Emma. They were pretty inseparable as kids all the way through middle school.” He replies and takes a sip of his drink. “I gotta say Logan, I admire you for being the bigger man.”

“For what?” Logan raises his eyebrows.

“Well you know? Because of their history together? They were practically each other’s first love. Colt even gave her this really expensive bracelet he worked hard for during the summer for her birthday.”

Darius words hit Logan like a knife to the heart, he’s asked Emma before if she and Colt were ever more than just friends and she looked him in the eye and lied to his face. But why? Why would she do that? When Darius realizes that Logan had no idea his eyes go wide open. “Oh man, I’m sorry I thought you knew. Crap Emma is so going to kill me and Riya is..”

“Riya is what?” Riya suddenly interrupts as she approaches the booth with Emma following behind her. “What have you boys been talking about?” She asks as they both plopped back on their seats. Darius looks at Logan who subtly shake his head. “N..Nothing.” He sputters. “I was just telling Logan how excited you always get during our double dates.”

“Huh… and here I thought you boys might have some hot gossip.”

“Oh there was alright.” Logan mutters in a barely audible tone. He stayed quiet for the rest of their time at the restaurant only replying not more than three words when being asked a question. All he could think about was how betrayed he felt, if she lied about this what else did she lie about? So many questions and doubts ran through his mind but he wasn’t going to make a scene while Darius and Riya were around. It’ll just have to wait when they get back.

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

The ride back to the loft was awkwardly quiet, Logan didn't feel like talking after what he found out. Emma could feel the tension like something was bothering Logan, he was perfectly fine before she came out of the restroom after her little chat with Riya.

“So… The food at the restaurant was actually really good.” She said trying to break the silence but Logan just stays quiet. “We should go back there sometime, there’s still so many things I want to try.” But she only got a shrug from him as a reply.

They finally reach the auto shop,normally Logan would have his arms around her and they’d make out abit before stepping out but this time was different, without saying a word Logan immediately exits the car slamming the door behind and stomps straight to the loft. Emma quickly follows him from behind. What’s gotten into him?

“Logan what’s going on? You’ve been quiet all night, it’s not like you.” But he still doesn’t answers, his back still facing her. “Please Logan, talk to me. I’m worried.” She stepped closer to him and places a hand on his arm but he shrugs it off.

After a moment he finally spoke in a weak voice. “I love you Em.”

“And I love you, Logan.”

“Then why did you lie to me about Colt?” Emma takes a step back feeling caught off guard by his question. Shit! “You.. You know? How?”

“Darius accidentally let it slip. How long were you planning on lying to me?” Why did you?” I looked you in the face Emma! I asked you and you lied to me!” He snaps, a hurtful look on his face.

“I… I don’t know.. I guess I was afraid.” She said with her eyes downcast while fidgeting with the bracelet on her hand. Logan had a point why did she lie? She had no reason to, she knew Logan would understand and yet she chose to hide the truth from him.

“Afraid? Afraid of what?”

“You and Colt don’t exactly see eye to eye, I didn’t want to make things worse by letting you know our history. Plus it was all in the past and Colt was bound to leave after summer break.. I just.. Please Logan I didn’t mean to hurt you.” She pleads with tears welling in her eyes, her hand still unconsciously fidgeting with the bracelet that Colt gave her, which Logan noticed and then it hits him. “He gave you that didn’t he? That’s the bracelet Darius mentioned.” Emma stops and gives him a regretful look. “You’ve had that since the day we first met.”

“It doesn’t mean anything, it's just an accessory.”

“When you lost it the other day, you almost went crazy just looking for it. That doesn't feel like just an accessory to me. Just tell me the truth Emma, after all this time do you still love him?”

“I’ve known Colt for almost all my life but I’m with you now and I love you, Logan.” She said stepping towards his to reach for his hand but he swipes it away.

“That’s not an answer, just look me in the eye and tell me the truth for once Emma, are you still in love with Colt?” His was voice stern but his eyes shows a different emotion, sadness.

“I… I don’t … I don’t know.” She sputters as tears start to well in her eyes. Why was it so hard to just say no?

Logan takes a step back, running his hands through his hair while his eyes pointedly looks away. At that moment he could feel his heart shattered into a million pieces but he takes a deep breath and quickly pulls himself together. “I think we need to take a break. I’m going away for a few days for a job maybe a week. We should both just use that time to think about what we really want.” He said and walks towards the door stopping mid way to look over his shoulder. “I’ll be sleeping downstairs on the couch tonight, good night Emma.”

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

Rod - @liamzigmichael4ever @client-327 @brightpinkpeppercorn @lovehugsandcandy @lilyofchoices @rideorparadise @zaffrenotes @queenkaneko @mskaneko @pintsizedelle @flowerpowell @desiree-0816 @emceesynonymroll @kinkykingliam @jlpplays1 @annekebbphotography @thecordoniandiaries @cora-nova @rainbowsinthestorm @princess-geek @leelee10898 @herladyshipxx @emichelle @kimmiedoo5 @dawn-1994 @choicesarehard

[violetsmoak]

Pieces of April [15/?]

AO3 Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21099044/chapters/50202530

Summary: On the anniversary of his death, Jason’s second life takes an abrupt new turn and he’s faced with a challenge that neither Batman nor the All-Caste prepared him for.

Rating: PG-13 (rating may change later)

Author’s Note: Here's your daily reminder to stay inside, wash your hands and not to hoard toilet paper! As a reward, enjoy another chapter of POA, featuring sass, subtle and not so subtle inklings of romance, and off-screen appearance of another Bat!

First Chapter

________________________________________________________________

After two movies and being so distracted that Ives kicks his ass at Mario Kart, Tim returns to his apartment. It’s not very late in vigilante time—two o’clock, as promised—and he’s sort of half expecting Jason to be still awake when he gets back.

The older man is sitting on the couch in the living room, flipping absently through the channels, eye flicking to the baby-monitor beside him every few seconds like he’s prepared to jump into action if he hears a cry.  

“Has she been keeping you up?” Tim asks as he strides over.

Jason blinks blearily at him. “No.”

“Then why don’t you grab some sleep while you can? There’s no point staying up if you don’t have to.”

“First of all—fuck you. Second of all, that’s rich comin' from the family insomniac. And third, I’m havin' trouble shuttin' my brain off, okay? It’s still tryin' to figure out if I didn’t accidentally travel to another alternate reality of something.”

A sharp, distorted cry echoes over the monitor and Jason really does jump.

“Stay put,” Tim tells him, already heading for the stairs. “I’ll get her.”

It’s still surprising when Jason listens to him, which Tim puts down to being in a desperate situation. He hopes that having someone else in the apartment to help with Isa will diminish whatever anxiety has the older man wound so tight.

Once upstairs, Tim slips into the guestroom and scoops her into his arm, wincing at the shrill squealing cry. After a quick check of her diaper—blessedly empty—he carries her still crying form downstairs to prepare a bottle for her.

Jason winces when they appear and—he doesn’t really run away, but he makes a hasty exit over the stairs.

Tim huffs under his breath. “It’s not like she’s a bomb, Jason. Geeze.”

Though she is doing an excellent job imitating a percussion grenade while they wait for the bottle of formula to warm up in the microwave, so maybe there are some similarities.

“It was thirty seconds, not thirty years, calm down,” he grumbles as she latches onto the plastic nipple like a starving animal.

He watches her nurse for a few minutes, brows furrowed and mind on Jason.

I know he’s still adjusting, but at some point, it’s got to start sinking in, right? I mean, he’s not even planning on keeping her, it’s all temporary, so there’s no reason for him to be this out of it.

Unless there’s more going on than just a surprise baby—which, given Jason’s past and present activities, could very well the issue.

I wonder how hard he’d punch me if I suggested he talk to someone about this?

Not Dick, obviously; calling him has always been one of Tim’s major avenues of support when he’s going through hard times, but he knows Jason would rather crawl through broken glass than open up to his predecessor.

Sometimes I think Jason’s relationship with Dick is a hundred times more complicated than it is with anyone else in the family…

Isa gives a dissatisfied whimper and turns her face away from the bottle. Tim frowns, seeing that she’s barely drunk a quarter of it, and tries to tempt her to take another, but she refuses, already going dozy and limp with sleep.

“Really? After all that? You raise holy hell and you don’t even finish it?” He snorts. “You really are his.”

It’s an effort to get the sleepy infant to burp, but he manages it; she passes out before he’s even made it back up the stairs and back to Jason’s room.

Despite having explicit permission to enter without knocking, Tim’s still uneasy broaching Jason’s personal space. Especially since Tim can tell he’s not asleep, even if he’s lying on his bad, holding a pillow over his face like he’s trying to block everything out.

Tim carefully arranges the baby back in her basket-bassinet, and quietly asks Jason, “Need anything else?”

Jason mutters something that sounds suspiciously like "Another life", and turns his back on both Tim and the baby.

And really, what can he even say to that?

It’s a problem for some other time.

Tim takes a quick shower, before faceplanting onto his unmade bed. The exhaustion he’s been ignoring for the past day or so finally hits him, and he passes out without even getting up to turn off the lights.

By some miracle, he gets six hours of uninterrupted sleep before his alarm goes off later that morning. He doesn’t feel fully rested, but he gave up on chasing that sensation two Robins ago.

After dressing and taming his hair (it might be time for a haircut soon), he spends an extra ten minutes checking the bruises on his face—they’ve gone from dark purple to blue—and applying a liberal amount of cover-up. A beat later, he adds a bit of eyeliner as well, to give an appearance of alertness that he doesn’t quite feel.

Heading downstairs his nose twitches as he becomes cognizant of an unfamiliar smell.

Of...someone’s cooking?

He finds Jason in his kitchen, flipping pancakes. The baby carrier is in the middle of the kitchen island, Isa sleeping soundly in a cocoon of blankets.

Instead of asking Jason why he’s cooking, Tim grabs a coffee cup from the cupboard and turns on his Keurig. “How was the first night?”

He doesn’t expect Jason to respond beyond irritated grunting, and so is surprised when he answers.

“Took me an hour to fall asleep,” he says. “Then at four she woke me up…then at six…and then just now. So, I decided, screw it, I’m hungry anyway. And about the only thing you have all the ingredients for are pancakes.” He shoots Tim a judging look. “I don’t even think you have maple syrup. It’s a disgrace.”

“I think there might be corn syrup in the pantry?”

“Disgrace,” Jason repeats.

Tim ignores him and glances at the two dozen pancakes he’s caught sight of behind Jason’s bulk. “Exactly how many people are you feeding?”

Something that might be a blush darkens Jason’s cheeks.

“I may have gotten a little distracted,” he admits defensively. “But I needed something mindless to do and it worked, so just…shut up and eat.”

He shoves a plate with three pancakes at Tim, who doesn’t have the heart to tell Jason he doesn’t really eat breakfast. Instead, he goes looking for the much-maligned corn syrup and takes the smallest pancake he can find in the bunch.

It’s only polite, after all.

Isa starts to whimper again and Jason groans. “There is no way you’re hungry again, I just fed you.”

Instead, he carts her over to the coffee table—the vintage Henredon table Tim actually spent a couple of weeks tracking down because it resembled one his parents had when he was a child—has since yesterday seemingly become the chosen changing station. 

There are piles of fresh diapers and wipes spread out on it, clearly from earlier changes, and there’s a pail next to it, along with the detritus of the packaging it was in.

“That can’t be sanitary,” Tim says. “Or environmentally friendly.”

“Yeah, well, your highness can shell out for cloth diapers and hire a service to clean them if that’s your issue.”

Tim rolls his eyes but wisely doesn’t reply to that, instead busying himself with finishing off the giant pancake and a much-needed cup of coffee.

“Ugh,” he hears Jason say after a while. “Are we sure this is a human child? Because what’s coming out of her doesn’t look human.”

Tim chokes on a large lump of pancake and glares across the room. “Yes, thanks for that while I’m eating.”

“As if your stomach hasn’t been tested by many a murder scene.”

“Never while I was eating,” Tim grumbles and pushes his plate away. He hunts down a travel mug for his second much-needed cup of coffee and then grabs his messenger bag from the hook on the door.

He’s halfway headed for the garage when he pauses and considers Jason again.

“Do you need me to stay?” he asks. “I mean, it’s the first day you’re doing this, so—”

“I don’t need you holding my hand, Drake,” Jason deadpans, “especially since you’re not going to be here during the day anyway. No point in getting used to a crutch.”

Tim isn’t sure he likes that comparison.

“You sure?”

“I figured out how to defuse bombs, I can figure this out.”

“Okay…but Safiya did give you her number, right? You know there’s no shame in calling her if you’re stuck.” That earns him a withering glare. “Just saying.” He offers Jason a mock-salute. “Enjoy learning how to baby.”

“Fuck you.”

“Language!”

“She’s two days old, she doesn’t know what the hell I’m sayin’.”

“A-plus childcare, Mary Poppins,” Tim mutters—under his breath because he doesn’t actually want to be punched this early in the morning—and finally leaves.

Once at the office, he falls into his usual routine—perfunctory greetings to people he should only know by sight but for whom he has done extensive background checks, sitting in a board meeting and chewing out the legal team for not filing their water-filter patent faster (he may have brushed it off to spare people the wrath of Damian, but he fully understands the kid’s anger), a stop at the break-room for a third cup of coffee and to keep an ear out for the office gossip.

Tam is waiting in his office when he finally settles in for the rest of the morning.

“How’s everything going at home?” she asks, closing the door behind her. She hands him his schedule for the day and a checklist of phone calls to return and products that require oversight.

“As well as can be expected,” he replies, sipping his coffee. “It’s an adjustment.”

“No kidding. You go from single, introvert shut-in bachelor to living with Dream Daddy overnight.”

Tim promptly inhales and then spits out very hot coffee, only narrowly missing a stack of contracts that need reviewing.

Tam’s eyes flick to the mess. “I’m not cleaning that up.”

“Why would you say that?” he splutters as his brain frantically tries to reboot after the shock.

“Because it’s not my job to clean up after the functional man-child that is my boss?”

“Not that.” He glares. “Filling my brain with disturbing notions.”

“Is the disturbing notion that I said it, or that you know what Dream Daddy is?”

“The disturbing thing is that you think my—” He pauses, hesitant to use the word ‘brother’ in relation to Jason, if only because it feels wrong for some inexplicable reason. ‘Friend’ is also a gross over-estimation of their relationship. “—new roommate is attractive.”

“Well, some of us have eyes,” Tam shrugs.

“And some of us have criteria for what we find attractive beyond looks.”

“Right. Forgot. You like the dangerous types that try to kill you first and ask questions later.”

Tim opens his mouth to object, and then tilts his head to one side to acknowledge it: given his recent dating history, she’s not wrong. “You forget that type tends to be female. As in something my new roommate most definitely is not.”

“Puh-lease, I’ve seen you when you’re hanging out with Connor. You can’t tell me that’s a hundred percent platonic.”

“It is!”

“If you say so,” Tam replies. “But you forget—I’ve kissed you. And I’ve never felt less spark or even interest in a guy before.”

“Because I was surprised,” Tim grouses. “That doesn’t mean I don’t like women. You’ve met Stephanie.”

“Yeah, but she told me she hit you in the face with a brick the first time you two met.”

“I regret ever introducing you to each other,” Tim groans, pressing his face into his hands. “Look, you’re the one who decided us dating would be a bad idea, so don’t go taking that as evidence that I’m gay.”

“First of all, our dating would be a bad idea, and not even just because of the inevitable involvement of ninjas or Vicki Vale’s byline. I’ve already explained why—which you agreed with at the time. And second of all, I never said you were gay, I said you had a type. Lynx tried to break you with a sword, Connor broke your arm, and as I said, there was Steph…Point is, gender has nothing to do with it, you’re just a masochist.”

“I must be since I put up with you,” he sighs. “Let me be clear: I have no interest, nor will I ever have interest in…my new roommate. And this is so far from the appropriate place to talk about this stuff.”

“And he pulls the ‘boss’ card,” Tam narrates sarcastically. “Fine, I’ll leave it alone. For now. Only because I have a conference call with my opposite number in Hong Kong.” She heads out but can’t resist throwing an over-dramatic sigh over her shoulder. “Maybe if I had the ability to throw you through a wall, you and I would have had a chance. Guess we’ll never know.”

She opens the door to the office, and then she’s gone, leaving Tim to parse the utterly bewildering turn to the conversation.

“How did we even get on that topic?” he mutters to himself, searching his desk for his glasses.

God, she can never find out that Jason tried to kill me that first time we met. I’ll never hear the end of it. Even if she’s completely wrong about all this, I’ll have to deal with knowing looks the rest of my life…

Tim makes a valiant effort to lose himself in his work after that, if only to erase the memory of Jason being called ‘daddy’ by another adult. He cleans up his desk as best he can, wrinkling his nose at the idea the place is going to smell like stale coffee for a while, and then does a quick triage of what work needs to be done now and what can wait.

He manages to lose himself for a few hours, working even through lunch, before setting aside time to wrestle with the current problem in his life: namely, helping Jason find someone to step in and deal with the baby situation.

It’s not like a business deal or falling stock options. A human being doesn’t come with cheat codes or hacks.

Well…not directly.

Tim grins to himself and opens an encrypted server to access to the CPS servers. Jason’s adamant about not working through the system, but that doesn’t mean they can’t investigate families within the system on their own and outside of whatever arbitrary criteria individual caseworkers use to evaluate potential parents. It’s a starting point.

At the same time, he’s using his personal computer that’s linked in with the Nest system to add a few extra layers of protection to Jason’s falsified information. It’s a fairly routine task, but he wants to ensure no one realizes he’s there.

His screen freezes.

 O: Do I need to know why you suddenly needed to hack the SSA?

 “Almost no one,” Tim corrects himself with a sigh; of course she’s keeping tabs on him.

He types a quick reply:

 T: You mean you don’t already?

O: No. I’m waiting for you to be upfront about it.

 That would be a definite change from the usual Bat modus operandi. He wonders how long it’s going to last.

 T: Precautionary alias for a case.

O: I see.

T: You know if it was anything more than that I’d have reached out.

O: Even if it involves a certain red sheep of the family?

 Tim groans, and only just refrains from pressing his palms against his eyes in frustration. Babs’ stance on Jason isn’t exactly clear, and she’s just as likely to give Bruce a heads-up about possible Red Hood antics coming up as wait for him to figure it out himself.

 T: Even then. This is a personal thing and I’m handling it.

O: Alright. I’m giving you the benefit of the doubt.

O: For now.

 Which Tim knows from experience will only last for so long; any potential threat in Gotham—and Jason is still occasionally classified as one of those—and Oracle might just take a page out of Batman’s mitigation playbook.  

“Problem for another day,” he tells himself.

He’s starting to feel like that’s going to become his new mantra.

⁂ ⁂ ⁂

Your feedback matters! I want to know what you think of my story, so feel free to leave kudos, a comment or as many of these emojis as you want and let me know how you feel!

❤️️ = I love this story! 😳 = this was hot! 💐 = thank you for sharing this 🍵 = tea spilled 🍬 = so sweet and fluffy! 🚔 = you’re under arrest! the writing’s too good! 😲 = I NEED THE NEXT CHAPTER 😢 = you got me right in the feels 🤯mind blown 🤬god damn cliffhanger 😫 whyyyyyyy?!?!?

Next Chapter

[jungwoohoos]

yoongi makes you face things you thought you would never have to 

genre: angst, fwb-ish!yoongi

word count: 1k

note: it’s been more than a hot second, but this was something i started writing two months ago and even though it’s short, i just finished it hehe. but this is something that hits home for me, so hopefully i did it justice for anyone else who feels it

The dumplings have filled you up to some kind of mindless stupor because you don’t even realize your mouth’s opening until the dim light hugs your words.

“I like the big things,” you say under the mess of tarped blankets. It’s haphazardly constructed—an ode to how abruptly Yoongi showed up with two takeout bags and ice cream in tow. You had realized halfway through your second attempt at making the fort that it was a bit too intimate, a bit too comfortable for what the situation called for, but you had tamped down the doubt and set up the string of lights anyway. 

In the silence, you’re wondering if they’re too much. Some slap of reality dawning upon you the moment you had spoken, and now you’re squinting at the lit-up cherries, hoping he doesn’t realize what you had just said.

A few more beats of your fidgeting fingers and he’s answering.

“I know that.”

It’s quiet, simple in the midst of the food-stained air and lumpy pillows beneath your head—acting like some sort of assurance that this couldn’t have happened any other way. And it makes you nervous that the gravity that’s been tugging you to him might finally become theory. That the last hour of feigned comfort could somehow undermine everything you’ve been holding yourself from for the last four months. 

So you continue to talk even though the direction of your words is inevitable. His company always makes you want to bare everything.

“Like whether someone thinks they’re the person they want to be, or whether they believe there’s more inherent good or bad in the world,” you continue, fueled by the way his presence teases at your peace of mind. “Or what their greatest fears are or why they act the way that they do.”

You cut off with a bite of your tongue. He’s shuffling beside you, and the light brush of his skin against yours warms you even from under the pile of blankets.

“You know...the big things.”

“Yeah, I know,” he says, his breath tickling your ear.

And he does. He knew the day you met him at Jin’s Halloween party, no amount of liquid courage justification enough for how forward you had been. Buzzed with punch and curious as to why the guy in no particular costume kept glancing at you, you had sat down next to him with little more prepared than a pointed “what?” He had raised an eyebrow with a quirk of his mouth before looking down at your waist. Your own eyes had followed the tufts of feathers down your front to meet at something that looked suspiciously like toilet paper. Even with your newfound bravery, you had gasped and swiped at the toilet paper, face flushing under his attention. 

But in the glow of the fort, four months passed, you feel everything akin to uncertainty. Not necessarily about him, but everything about yourself. It’s nominal at this point—what you are, what you aren’t, because you’ve already let him in. Let him explore the intimacies of you with a type of recklessness you wish you regretted. Wrapped up prettily under the guise of friendship, you could say that there was nothing dangerous, but you had known better. You had known that someone like him could never make you feel anything less than everything, even with the awareness that you would never be able to give him the same. Everything you crave with an urgency, an inexplicable yearn, but you won’t let yourself enjoy something you don’t deserve. 

“What are you thinking about?” His voice nudges the quiet aside, and you bury yourself a little deeper in hopes of finding some sort of complacent solace away from him.

“Oh—you know,” you say to the wilting corner of the fort. Your heart’s finally caught up to your head, rattling furious against your chest, and he’s close, far too close. The dumplings in your stomach turn in tandem with the slow roll of his body toward you.

You feel rather than see him situate himself to face you. There’s a rush of warmth that blankets over you with the fall of his eyes, flushing your cheeks to a red that you know is too red even under the lights.  His head’s propped on a hand, and even that simple gesture of attention begs you to roll over and hide your face. He can see straight into you, even through the generous layer of takeout food, and a small part of you wants to let him. It’s the part of you that’s led you to the wealth of his love, and it’s the part that scares you the most.

Because you shouldn’t feel this pull toward someone when you’ve resigned yourself to your own company. It’s the growing familiarity of the traces of him on your sheets, the half-curled smile branded on your lips like a stamp you can’t help but keep for yourself that make you squirm. 

“I’m usually better with words.” You sniff your sleeve to muffle your words. His eyes are still on you, too weighted to miss, so you keep looking at the bloom of light above you.

An amused exhale pushes through his lips, and the corners of your own threaten to twitch at the sound. 

“Yeah, you usually are,” he says after a second. There’s something about the words that fill you with a type of content, like he knows just who you are.

“It’s not something you can really put into words though.”

Your pulse pounds staccato beats against your chest loud enough that you’re afraid he can hear. Though you’ve done everything to bare yourself, the confirmation that this isn’t simply you laid raw, but him as well, makes you nervous. It makes you more nervous than anything else he could’ve said because now it’s spoken—this unraveling of who you are in the context of him. You want to shield your ears, protect them from what you’ll inevitably have to face. He must know from the quickening of your breath because he continues.

 “But I’ll be here until you find them.”

[boxed-n-bottled-arson]

Yandere Virgil chapter 3

Summary: Virgil’s deal with the mysterious ‘Rem’ needs to be filled. So Virgil finds a way to expel of Remy Skyes and makes his worst ever mistake.

Warnings: Food mentioned, plotting murder, murder, brief description of dead bodies, cursing (2), blood mentioned, injury mentioned, fire mentioned, near-death experiences.

Ships: one-sided moxiety, RemyxPatton slightly

      Virgil walked through the cafeteria staring down at his feet. A week had passed since Logan’s murder, and a week had passed since he made a deal to kill Remy Skye. He had two weeks, two minuscule weeks to kill Remy or…. He didn’t know what would happen. But Virgil really didn’t want to find out. 

       He arrived at the table he and Patton always sat at (well… Logan and Roman also sat there, or at least used to). He took his seat next to Patton, who immediately leaned on Virgil. This had been happening a lot recently since Patton had been taking the deaths of his friends not very well, but at least Virgil was there to comfort him. They sat in comfortable silence for a bit till Patton spoke up, “Virge, I’m scared.” “Why would that be Pat?” Patton looked at Virgil, “I know that Roman and Logan’s deaths look like accidences but” Patton paused for a second, “what if they weren’t?” Virgil’s eyes grew big, as Patton continued talking, “And...and,” tears started to roll down Patton’s face, “what if I lose you?” Virgil pulled Patton into the closest hug he could. “Shh, Pat it’s ok. You’re not gonna lose me I promise.” Virgil sat there, holding Patton as Patton continued to cry, it took a bit, but Patton had managed to calm down. “Sorry about that Virge,” Patton said, gaze resting on the floor. Virgil put a hand on Patton’s shoulder, “It’s ok Pat, and it’s ok to be scared.” Pat looked up at Virgil and nodded, before giving him a shy yet genuine smile. A smile that was so rare since the passing of Roman. A smile that made Virgil’s heart flutter. A smile that Virgil fell in love with.

       A bell rung, signaling the end of final period. Virgil gathered his stuff and made his way out of the classroom, heading for the door at the front of the school. He made his way through crowds of students and eventually made it to the front doors. Stepping through the doors, Virgil looked around the front area od the school till he spotted Patton who was talking to...Remy. Virgil’s eyes grew wide and his breathing picked up. Why was Remy talking to Patton? Is Remy flirting with Patton? Countless more questions ran through Virgil’s head before he calmed himself enough to be able to walk towards Patton and Remy. “Ya, the party’s from 8 to 10 at my place tomorrow, you better not miss it, girl.” Virgil heard Remy say. Virgil was hoping the anger he was feeling didn’t seep out and onto his face. “Of course I’ll be there Remy!” Patton said, tone bubbly and excited. Remy walked away before Virgil had arrived, but Remy had left oh so many bread crumbs that would lead to his very own demise.

     Virgil arrived in math class on the morning of the party, taking his typical seat in the back of the room. Nothing seemed unordinary till Virgil opened his math binder. In it were the typical scattered papers and notes, but on top of everything was a party invitation. An invitation to none other than Remy’s party (with Rem signed in the bottom corner,). Murmuring a thank you under his breath to this mysterious 'Rem', Virgil flipped the invitation over reading to read the details. The party was as Remy said from 8 to 10 tonight, at 118 Greencircle (which Virgil presumed was Remy's address). The invitation had been obviously stolen, though, maybe Virgil would take the hint from Rem that now was the time to strike.

     Virgil stared from across the street at the house he was about to infiltrate. The house had rainbow light flowing out of it, and Virgil could faintly hear the music from it. Virgil was shaking, like fully shaking. Unlike any business he had conducted at school, this was loud and there were SO many people, along with a higher risk to be caught. Virgil pulled his patchwork jacket close to him as he walked shakily across the street, towards the front lawn when he saw them. Them, as in people including Remy sitting on the porch, he was walking towards. Virgil's breathing hitched before he immediately ran for the bushes on the side of the house and ducked into them. Virgil's breathing was heavy, and he desperately hoping the people on the porch were to busy drinking punch and talking to notice him walk towards the house. 

     Virgil sat in the bushes staring at the wall of the house he was next to. His plan of sneaking in and desperately avoiding anyone he knew, had been foiled and he needed a new one. That's when he heard a girlish squeal followed by a distressed Remy screaming, "GIRL, I WALK INTO THE DOOR OF MY OWN HOUSE FOR MY OWN PARTY AND GET A BUCKET OF PUNCH POURED ON ME!?!?" Virgil smirked. Whether this was Rem’s doing or the universe itself, Virgil couldn’t help but feel a bit lucky. "THANKS, BITCHES, IM GOING TO GET CHANGED UPSTAIRS" he heard Remy scream again. Ah, so Virgil had a place to head to. Virgil stood up, staring at the siding on the house. There was no he would be able to grip onto it and climb up. But the ivy running all up and down the sides, he might just be able to climb that. The pressure from the clock and thought of his and Rem's deal pushed him to start climbing without a second thought. 

     The ivy was thornless, but still hard to climb up and had very few places Virgil could put his feet, not to mention the house he was climbing was also two stories. The worst though happened about halfway up the house. 

     Virgil's hands gripped the ivy, like a lifeline. He barely dared to even breathe, scared it would lead to ripping the ivy he was holding on. Virgil moved his left hand a little higher, grabbing a new strand of ivy and pulling himself farther up. He pulled his body up, and his left foot rested on another part of the ivy when he felt it break from under him. His hands slid down the ivy as his feet dangled off the side of the house. His hands gripped to the ivy, like his life depended on it, wait, his life did depend on it. This was it. Life or death. Mustering up all the strength and adrenaline he could, Virgil pulled himself up and grabbed a nearby window sill as he felt all the ivy he was gripping snap. Virgil pulled himself onto the sill, his breaths coming in gasping, wavy lengths. The sill was barely big enough for him to sit on, but it felt sturdy enough to support him. Virgil wished he could have tried to calm himself, but the clock was ticking and Remy wasn't gonna be in the bathroom all night. 

     Virgil pushed his face against the glass of the window, it seemed to be a bedroom of some sort. Backing away from the glass, Virgil looked up to the next window sill. It wasn't that high above him, and he jumped and got a good enough grip to pull himself up. The window obviously belonged to the bathroom, the lights were on so you could easily see the toilet, sink, and shower. Most importantly though Remy was there, staring at himself in the mirror. 

     Virgil could taste the victory on his tongue, or maybe that was the blood from him biting his cheek out of nerves. It took a moment but Virgil managed to open the semi-broken (which had already been broken) window and was now able to access the bathroom. Remy was talking on the phone, supposedly to someone who was not able to make the party and not paying attention to his surroundings. "Agh, girl these bitches decide to pour a bowl of punch on my head and it's still sticking to my fingers and I'm gonna have to blow dry my hair!" Virgil silently snickered at Remy’s overdramatic tone. The person on the other end spoke up, "try soaking your hand in warm water or something, idk that might help." The voice was unrecognizable to Virgil, "Fine I'll see if that helps," Remy said as he turned on the facet. 

     It was unexpected, it was sudden, and Remy never saw it. He thought he was alone, except for Tayln over the phone (He had called them complaining Patton looked way too cute in the outfit they were wearing). He had just turned on the water, trying to rid his fingers of the annoying sticky feeling they retained from having punch poured over him when in barely the blink of an eye, he saw his hairdryer fall into the sink. Almost instantly, Remy felt the electricity pulse through him. Through his hands, then his arms, through his torso, then right to his brain. 

He was dead before his body hit the floor.

      Virgil watched from the side as Remy’s body hit the white tile floor of the bathroom. It was strange how weird people looked when they had that spark of life removed from them. They looked almost clouded, their eyes no longer glowing. Virgil could see that even through Remy’s sunglasses. 

    “Hello there? Rems, you there?” The person from Remy’s phone asked. Virgil froze up. There was no way in hell he’d be able to answer that. He quickly weighed his options before clicking the end call button. Virgil let out a shaky sigh, his eye’s resting to the sink that he’d turned into a murder weapon. How much of this was he willing to do for Patton? Patton… The one thing keeping him going. Patton. Virgil couldn’t help but smile at the thought of him. 

      Right before Virgil could go on to start daydream he felt his phone vibrate in his pocket, notifying him of a new text. 

“Good work. Remy has been...dealt with. Though you now have a party full of people with a missing host, and a most likely distressed friend you hung up on. Not to mention the fingerprints on the side of the house and window. Nevertheless, I’m going to offer my help to you. There is another person hot on my tail, and I need them removed. You agree to take care of them, I’ll clean up this party and evidence. Do we have a deal?

-Rem”

     Virgil had never realized how much evidence he made, nor how glad he really was to have Rem. He quickly texted back his agreement.

 “Fine, I agree to help you.”

  “I’m glad”

A second passed before Virgil received another text,

“I’m gonna need you to leave that house, there should be an easy exit from the master bedroom connected to the bathroom you’re in. Bedroom also seems to be deserted.”

“Ok”

     Virgil tucked his phone in his pocket before walking over to a near door. Opening it he was greeted with the sight of the master bedroom. Pulling out his phone he texted Rem again,

“What type of exit am I looking for?”

“Window closes to the bed has a tree outside of it. Jump on to it and climb down, tell me when you’re on the other side of the road.”

      Virgil turned off his phone and made his way to the window. Rem was correct, a large birch tree sat right outside the window. Unlocking the window and opening it, Virgil gave no second thought before jumping into the tree. That was a mistake. He ended up slamming into one of the branches and hurting his ribs. He had to keep going though. He didn’t have long before someone went looking for Remy and found him dead. High on adrenaline and fear, Virgil made his way done the tree (trying to ignore the stinging pain from his most likely bruised ribs). 

    At the base of the tree, Virgil took a few deep breaths, yet as much as he wanted it to be over it wasn’t. He still needed to make it to the other side of the road. With one hand gripping his side and hurt ribs, Virgil sulking made his way over to the side of the road (making sure to check for cars, he had already had too many near-death experiences today). Once there Virgil practically fell onto the side of the road and laid there. He was exhausted. Slowly he pulled his phone out of his pocket.

“I’m at the side of the road”

He laid his phone on his chest and felt himself smile slightly. It was over, Remy was dead. He just had one more person to get rid of and if you were smart he wouldn’t need rem’s hel-.

All thoughts were cut off by the smell of smoke and sounds of screams. 

     Virgil hastily stood up and looked at the scene in front of him. Remy’s house was fully ablaze, people were filling out of it, and smoke was rising up from the house. Virgil grabbed his phone and frantically started typing.

“WHAT DID YOU DO?”

Rem responded back quickly

“Removed evidence. The fingerprints and body are simply burned away, and the people in the house are leaving. The whole thing will look like someone simply left a burner on or dropped a cigarette in the wrong place.”

Virgil’s eyes drifted back to the sea of people now in front of the house.

“PATTON WAS IN THAT HOUSE.”

“And he is completely safe.” 

Rem’s response was delivered with a picture of Patton right outside the house, he seemed to be on the phone panicking, most likely calling 911 or his family. 

Rem sent another message soon after,

“Now if you’re done panicking, I have another client you need to expel of.”

     The message was sent with a picture of a person called Damion ‘Deceit’ Nova. Virgil’s eyes grew as he stared at the picture. Damion was the kid everyone was scared of, he was rumored to be part of some mafia and was that was always in fights. Fights, that ended oftentimes in blood and potentially the other person not walking out. Damion was heavily dangerous and could probably snap Virgil right in half.

“I assume you know who this is,”

Virgil typed his response, panicked thoughts running through his head on about how long he would have to expel of Damion

“HOW AM I SUPPOSE TO KILL HIM? ANYONE WHO GOES NEAR HIM PRACTICALLY DIES!!”

“I cleaned up one of your messes, you’re cleaning up one of mine. You have 3 weeks, I expect Damion gone.”

Virgil would have texted Rem, but he knew there was no hope in bargaining with the mysterious figure. Virgil stared up at the still burning house. He really was screwed, wasn’t he?