#the cat urge to curl up on one of those. ugh. i need it

[choctalksalot]

two eepy

two mirmir

[delimeful]

to taste your beating heart (5)

warnings: blood, miscommunication, imprisonment, arguing

-

Logan met Virgil-- Anx’s eyes over Patton’s shoulder, and watched as his gaze went from bewildered to guarded in half a second.

In the next moment, Anx had shoved out sharply, pushing Patton away from him hard enough to make him stumble back a few steps-- just far enough to be outside the protective ward, Logan noted. 

As though to cover up the fact that he’d just stripped himself of a potential hostage, Anx stiffened up to his full height, fangs bared at them all.

“Careful!” Roman snapped in an eerie parody of Virgil’s normal catchphrase, rising to his feet as Patton narrowly avoided overbalancing.

“No, no,” Patton said, wiping at his eyes without any shame, “it’s my fault, I should have asked first. I always get kind of emotional after thralls break. My apawlegies, Anx.” He accented the words with a flap of his cat hoodie sleeve.

Logan had time to notice the way Anx’s face twisted-- a mix of confusion-amusement-wariness that was familiar from Virgil’s first weeks working with them-- before Roman cut in with a startled shout.

“The thrall is broken?!” he squawked, head whipping back and forth between Patton and Anx. “Since when?”

“None of your business,” snapped Anx.

“Pretty much as soon as I walked in!” cheered Patton, at the exact same time. He paused. “Whoops, sorry, Anx! Did you want that to be... confangdential?”

“Boo,” Roman called, instantly distracted by the bad wordplay, “That was a reach.”

Logan let his audible facepalm speak for itself. “Out of the way, please, Patton.”

Patton obligingly shuffled to the side, and with every step closer Logan took, Anx folded inwards like a snake rearing back to strike. Seeing Virgil’s body bracing for the worst at his approach made something in Logan’s chest pang oddly, but luckily he was well practiced at ignoring such things.

Once at the edge of the circle, he crouched and inspected the activation key. As expected, nothing was out of place. Logan doubted Anx had been awake long enough to even consider tampering with the circle, let alone attempt it.

Now that the ash had cooled, the spell would be vulnerable to outside influence. It wasn’t as big of a concern anymore, seeing as the thrall on Patton had been removed, but Logan wasn’t one to leave things half-done.

… Also, if left unattended, Patton would probably free the vampire without telling anyone even without being under thrall.

Logan set his palm on the activation key and nonverbally cast a warming spell, reactivating the part of the spell that singed any unauthorized fingers messing with his circle. He could add the warming charm into the circle’s layout later, when there wasn’t a twitchy vampire watching his every move.

Despite his efforts to make his spellcasting subtler than usual, Anx still seemed to go still and stiff like hunted prey when the change in the spell sent a mild warmth into the air around them. Those uncanny purple eyes flickered between all three of the hunters for a moment, and then seemed to settle for glaring at nothing.

“So, Draculame, what prompted the sudden change of heart?” Roman asked, arms crossed over his chest.

His tone wasn’t as accusatory as before, but Anx’s bristling only increased, likely at the nickname. It had taken a while for Virgil to realize Roman’s ruder habits weren’t mean-spirited. It seemed like Anx would have to relearn that.

Provided they got that far.

Shaking the rather grim thought away, Logan tilted his head at the vampire. “I’m admittedly curious as well.”

Anx hissed at them, which they probably should have expected. It probably said something about their friend that this had already been standard Virgil behavior before he’d been turned. It was almost nostalgic.

“Now, kiddos, let’s not vamptagonize him!” Patton cut in firmly, ignoring their groans. “It’s almost dawn, so how about we call it close enough to morning and have some breakfast? I’ll make pat-cakes!”

He swanned out of the room without waiting for an answer, nearly hip checking the doorframe as he went. For a moment, Logan half-expected to see Virgil fall in a half-step behind him, like a particularly emo shadow. The absence was jarring.

“He hasn’t slept tonight,” he finally said, capturing Roman’s attention. “Make sure he doesn’t use salt instead of sugar?”

“And meanwhile you will be…?” Roman prompted doubtfully. Logan rolled his eyes.

“Figuring out a way for Anx to safely move to the kitchen, as Patton no doubt wants him there,” he replied, raising a hand to forestall any protests. “I took precautions.”

Roman threw his hands up dramatically, shot Anx a warning glare, and then turned to leave.

“Ugh. There goes my appetite,” he grumbled as he stormed out the door.

Logan allowed himself a sigh and then turned to face Anx. The vampire was still staring at him oddly. “I will be placing a pair of enchanted cuffs on you. They have no chains and they will not hurt you, but if you move against any of us with malicious intent, they will freeze in place.”

“And what am I supposed to do if you move against me?” he challenged automatically, lip curling. “Stand there and take it?”

“The cuffs will not stop you from running or hiding,” Logan told him, “and you’ve proven yourself to be skilled at both of those things in the past 48 hours. None of us are planning on attacking you, but you will have options regardless.”

This wasn’t how he would have reassured Virgil, but this wasn’t the Virgil he knew, the one that trusted him. He couldn’t soothe Anx’s cognitive distortions, not when he was barely more than a stranger.

He retrieved the shiny black cuffs from a nearby cabinet. They hadn’t had a thrall aggressive enough to use them on in months. “If you’ll put your wrists forward, we can proceed. Otherwise, Patton will be bringing breakfast to you, and I’d prefer not to get syrup or blood all over this room.”

Anx eyed him warily for another few moments, but eventually Logan’s patience paid off, and he stuck his wrists out with a growl. Logan reached past the barrier without any trouble and clicked the first one into place. Before he could proceed with the second, Anx’s hand flipped around and grabbed onto Logan’s wrist tightly.

Logan’s head jerked up to meet Anx’s gaze, already shifting his weight to counter a pull, but the vampire didn’t move further, just stared at him intently. “I know what you are.”

He clearly expected some kind of dramatic reaction, but Logan wasn’t in the habit of those, particularly not for such vague accusations. “If you’ll specify?”

“You’re a witch,” Anx said. “I saw you tamper with the circle without any instruments. You have natural magic.”

Logan felt his stomach sink slightly. Logically, he knew that this wasn’t the Virgil he knew, but it still made something in him twist to think of any version of Virgil blackmailing him over his magical heritage. “And what of it?” he asked, as lightly as he could.

“You’re living in the same house as hunters. You’re doing magic right under their noses, you’re going to get yourself killed!” Anx scolded, sounding more like Virgil with every word. “Do you need help getting out?”

Logan wasn’t entirely sure what sort of face he made in response to this endearingly dense offer, but it was apparently enough to make Anx frown with uncertainty. He held a hand out for his other wrist and clicked the cuff on it without any problems, and then deactivated the circle with a simple gesture of his hand over the key.

Anx’s eyes flicked to the door, and Logan tried not to think about him darting out into the early morning sun. He turned and headed to the door.

“Follow me, and you’ll get your answer.”

While traversing the halls, Logan resisted the persistent urge to check behind him. Gone were the slight shuffled footsteps that had previously accompanied Virgil’s presence, replaced by Anx’s supernatural silence, as though he was gliding over the floor without even touching it.

He entered the kitchen, where Patton had evidently wrangled Roman into setting the table. Whether the four plates set out were out of habit or Roman reluctantly accepting Anx’s presence at the table, Logan wasn’t sure.

He cleared his throat, making both of them look up from attempting to draw funny faces with the pancake batter.

“Observe,” he instructed, and then drew a sigil in the air and lit a simple flame in his hand. Behind him, he could practically hear Anx go as stiff as a board.

“Are we showing off?” Roman asked, a bit excited but completely unsurprised. “Should I perform a monologue?”

“Great spell, Lo! No arson in the house, though,” Patton added in a bright chirp. “After all, I have enough ar-sons here already!”

Logan doused the flame by clenching a fist, giving Patton a Look that went blithely ignored. “You two are incorrigible. That was a simple demonstration.”

He turned to Anx, who looked a little shell shocked.

“As we’ve informed you, ‘hunter’ is a title that we use mostly for convenience and ease of access to jobs. We help magical beings just as often as average humans, if not more frequently.”

“We tried out ‘Protectors of the Innocent’ for a while, but it never really caught on for some reason,” Roman added, subtly sneaking a piece of bacon from the serving plate while Patton’s back was turned.

“Perhaps it would have worked better if someone hadn’t only put P.I. on all the business cards, resulting in us being mistaken for Private Investigators and all of our calls being about spousal infidelity for a solid two months,” Logan snarked back, moving past them to retrieve the orange juice from the fridge.

“The printing office charged by the letter!” Roman protested, and then recoiled from the countertop as his next attempt at sneaking ended with his fingers smacked mercilessly. “Augh! Forsaken by those dearest to me! What cruelty!”

“No sympathy for bacon thieves,” Patton chided, wielding his spatula like an instrument of mass destruction. “Go sit!”

Logan seated himself as well, and turned to Anx, who had been watching the banter play out from the doorway with a somewhat dazed expression. “You’re welcome to sit. Patton will likely insist on it, actually.”

“You people,” he enunciated slowly, “are crazy.”

“You get used to it,” Logan assured him with the certainty of someone who had heard this exact phrase from Virgil before. He checked his watch. “It has been some time since you last ate. I can retrieve some stored blood from our refrigerator.”

“Actually,” Patton set a plate stacked high with pancakes in the center of the table with a plonk, “I figured I could just be Anx’s donor for a while!”

Roman, who had just stolen a sip of Logan’s orange juice, did a movie-perfect spit take, and Patton slid the pancake stack swiftly out of range of the spray.

“It will be 55 days before you are viable for another blood donation,” Logan recited the fact automatically, but he was just as thrown off as Roman.

“Not if he drinks from me directly!” Patton retorted, a beacon of cheerful composure.

“What?” All three of them replied, at varying levels of screech.

Anx shot a wild-eyed look at the room at large and took a step back, as though physically distancing himself from the idea.

“Patton, you can’t be serious!” Roman pushed his chair back and stood, looking distraught. “Fangs For The Memories over here might look like Virgil, but he’s proven quite thoroughly that he’s not! We just got you un-thralled, clearly he can’t be trusted not to take advantage of you!”

Logan noticed Anx wince, though he couldn’t tell whether it was from the harsh assessment or Virgil’s name being spoken.

“Me not being thralled anymore is exactly why we can trust him not to hurt me,” Patton said, chin tilted up stubbornly. “He doesn’t know what he did wrong, but he fixed it anyway! That’s more than good enough in my book.”

“Well, maybe your book needs some copyediting!” Roman snapped back, exasperated. “So his unbeating heart isn’t as completely shriveled up as it originally seemed! So what? That doesn’t change the fact that he was the one who thralled you in the first place!”

Logan cut in, physically moving between them to break up the beginnings of a shouting match.

“I have to agree that this is a bad idea, for a multitude of reasons,” he started, raising a quelling hand before Patton could protest. “The matter of Anx’s trustworthiness aside, you shouldn’t be directly donating blood to any vampire. It is an unnecessary risk to your mental and emotional well being.”

“Thank you,” Roman said, apparently keen to seize allies where he could. He gestured expansively, looking at Patton with earnest eyes. “You’ve come so far, Pat. We don’t want to see any of your hard work undone. Virgil wouldn’t want that either; you know he’d fight this harder than any of us.”

Patton’s face had softened at their-- Roman’s sentimental worrying, but even bringing Virgil into it couldn’t sway his determined course.

“I know you guys just want me safe, but this is something I need to do. Even if it is a risk, I can’t be held down by this fear forever. And who better to help me than Anx!”

“Literally anyone who hasn’t threatened to kill everyone here in the last 48 hours,” Roman moaned, dragging his hands down his face.

“Besides,” Patton continued, undeterred, “this way we don’t have to worry about our emergency transfusion supply going low! It just makes sense.”

Logan had to begrudgingly agree. Between the hassle of trying to explain why they suddenly needed significantly more blood and the fact that a vampire drinking directly would replenish blood cells at a much higher rate than drawing blood, the best option really was to have a direct donor. He simply didn't want it to be Patton.

Unfortunately, his odds of actually being able to stop Patton were quite low.

“Nothing about any of this makes sense,” Anx grumbled, having retreated to the hall like a skittish feral cat.

The vampire seemed almost more unsettled by the idea than either of the other objecting parties, despite being the only one who directly benefited from the hypothetical arrangement. Nervous about their responses if he agreed, perhaps?

“We can at least give it a shot!” Patton insisted, coming a little closer to Anx and reaching out to gently pat his shoulder. It spoke volumes that the touch wasn't brushed off or rejected. “It could end up helping us both! And if it doesn’t, we’ll just find another way! You won’t be in trouble for messing up, okay?”

Anx blinked, slowly, still looking somewhat unconvinced that this was reality. Still, after a few moments of exposure to Patton’s encouraging smile, he dipped his head in a nod.

“Okay.”

[taizi]

Prompt 33 just screams protective nishimura so could you write that please and thankyou 🌸

PROMPTS LIST

33. “Are you SURE I can’t punch him in the face?” “Yes.” “What if I just break his nose a little?”

i got several requests for this one, specifically with nishimura (and a few, even more specifically, with nishinatsu). you guys really know my brand 😌🌼

x

Kitamoto warned him, but Tanuma was still unprepared.

He's got one arm looped around Natsume's shoulders, something that happened almost entirely involuntarily, and the other is clutching Nyanko-sensei against his chest because the cat's ears are lying back and his claws are pricking through Tanuma's sleeve in an alarming way.

This leaves no hands free to corral Nishimura, and Tanuma thinks he's going to need about three more to do that anyway.

"Are you fucking kidding me?" Nishimura is raging, too loud, attracting eyes from all directions. "Who the-- who do you-- who are you? The prime minister? Is this your private property? Do you own this park?"

The unfamiliar boy they bumped into is nearly a head taller than Nishimura but he seems almost cowed by him-- appropriately so, Tanuma thinks fairly, because if he were on the receiving end of this tirade, in a public space, he probably would have started crying by now. An honest assessment.

"I'm asking who you are," Nishimura all but shouts, when the boy in front of him takes more than one second to respond. "What is your name? Do you have an identity?"

"I'm-- my name is Yoshida. I know the fr-- the guy behind you. We were classmates. That's all."

"Oh, is that all," Nishimura says. It's clearly not all.

Yoshida's eyes flick past Nishimura, just for a second, but it's enough to make Natsume twitch. Tanuma doesn't miss it, since Natsume is still tucked snugly beneath his arm. Nishimura doesn't miss it either, because Nishimura is in this heightened state of pissed off that Tanuma has never witnessed before.

He snaps his fingers, says, "What's wrong with you? Don't you know it's rude not to look at someone when they're talking to you?"

It's amazing he doesn't choke on that piece of hypocrisy.

"So you used to know Natsume or whatever, and somehow, in your mind, that translates to... literally attacking him out of nowhere?"

"Nishimura," Natsume says. It's the tone of someone burdened with an impossible task, like stopping a runaway train before it crashes with nothing but his bare hands and hopeful intentions. "He didn't attack me."

Nishimura whirls around and points at him (rudely). "You be quiet! He attacked you!"

"He pushed me. I fell down. That's not an attack."

"That's literally assault! That's-- " He pats at his pockets, clearly looking for the cellphone that he shoved into Tanuma's bag two hours ago, after it died taking roughly one million pictures of the cat at the train station. "Tanuma, Google the Penal Code!"

"I'm not going to do that," Tanuma says gently.

Kitamoto did warn him. He wanted to stay home with his dad this weekend, and urged them to go visit Yuuki without him, but the second the others were distracted, he snagged Tanuma by the sleeve and drew him aside.

"I won't be there, so if something happens, it's up to you," he said. His tone was so serious and grave that for a second Tanuma thought they were talking about the yokai situation and he had absolutely no idea how to process that. And then Kitamoto added, "Nishimura tends to go off the rails a bit when someone's mean to one of his friends. I mean, you've seen it. I just really don't want my best friend getting arrested for disturbing the peace while I'm not around."

So, that was a warning. Looking back, Tanuma should have taken it to heart.

Nishimura is Tanuma's smallest friend, an inch or so shorter than Taki now, but only in stature. If he were as big as all his caring, he would tower over cities. He's right now shouting down someone much larger than he is, without an ounce of sense or self-preservation.

This is the same boy who steals out of Natsume's bento at lunch, and makes faces behind Tsuji's back when he's lecturing them about passing notes during class, and gets into heated arguments with Isamu over the TV Guide literally every time they have a sleepover at Taki's house.

And it's the same boy who taught Natsume how to swim, one sunny August day almost two years ago now, at the river because Natsume was afraid to go into the pool. The same boy who has coaxed Tanuma through more than one panic attack, his hands a familiar shape around Tanuma's own at this point.

His caring is loud, Tanuma thinks. Even when it's quiet.

A few passersby have stopped, lingering nearby like they're going to get involved, and clearly it's making Yoshida feel outnumbered. The fight went out of him about three seconds after Nishimura started yelling in the first place, so all the rest of it has maybe been a bit overkill.

"So, is he just going to keep going? Like, until he runs out of breath?" Yoshida's friend asks.

She's been standing quietly to one side this entire time. Her face had folded with disapproval when Yoshida initially pushed Natsume down, but no one had a second to get a word in edgewise before Nishimura exploded about it, and now she simply looks as though this is the best punishment for her friend that she could have hoped for.

"Um, probably," Natsume says. He's unfamiliar with her, but she smiles at him.

"I only transferred here last year," she says. "And I don't listen to gossip. And anyway, with friends like these, those rumors about you couldn't possibly be true."

Her whole demeanor is calm and self-assured. She reminds Tanuma of Tsuji, and similarly, Natsume's guard seems to relent. He smiles back at her.

This leaves Tanuma free to step away without feeling as though he's abandoning him. With Nyanko-sensei in the crook of his arm, he reaches out and draws Nishimura back by the hood of his jacket, the way he's seen Taki and Kitamoto do one hundred times a day since they were fourteen.

Nishimura squawks in outrage, and struggles against Tanuma's grip, but... well, he's little. And Tanuma has been back in karate for the past year, give or take, so his core strength is fairly solid. It only takes a small amount of effort to reel Nishimura back and tuck him under his arm.

This is better. He feels his heart start to settle. Right here, Nishimura can't fly off the handle any more than he already has, and Tanuma can keep him from getting hurt.

“Are you sure I can’t punch him in the face?” Nishimura seethes. 

“Yes,” Natsume says quickly.

“What if I just break his nose a little?”

“Satchan,” Tanuma tries, and that, at least, gets Nishimura to stew quietly for a moment instead. “You’ve made your point. I’m sure Yashido is sorry.”

"He is very sorry," Yoshida's friend says peacefully. "He'll be especially sorry once I tell his mom that her only son acted like a stupid bully. Let's go, Hiroo, before you get beat up."

She bows politely, and then carts Yoshida away. Yoshida, if anything, looks relieved to have an out, and retreats without so much as a backwards glance.

"Ugh," Nishimura says. He isn't even winded. "Ugh! Just wait till I tell Kitamoto about that creep! He'll wish he'd been here!"

Kitamoto, who is basically a modern-day prophet, will definitely wish he had been here, though not for the same reasons Nishimura seems to be thinking of. Tanuma needs to reevaluate a lot of the conversations they've had in the past. How many times has Kitamoto said something like "they almost called the cops on us" totally offhand and actually meant it?

"You're insane," Natsume says the second they're alone again. There's a mark on his cheek from where he hit the ground that will be a bruise tomorrow. When their friends see that, they'll all be quick to side with Nishimura over this, so it's important that they get as much scolding in now as possible. "I don't want you picking fights like that, okay? What if it had gone differently, and he'd hit you or something?"

"Good," Nishimura says hotly. "Then our faces would match."

This remark disarms Natsume completely, and his expression turns warm and affectionate. Nyanko-sensei makes a noise that is almost a laugh. His eyes are slitted in something like approval. Kitamoto's warning of "it's up to you" rings loudly in Tanuma's ears. Okay.

He gives Nishimura a gentle shake with the arm still curled around his shoulders, and stands firm when Nishimura looks up at him.

Or, well. Almost stands firm. He does try. He'll tell Kitamoto he tried.

"Come to karate with me next week," he says. "If you're going to pick fights with people twice your size, at least be able to back it up."

Nishimura's face lights up. If he hadn’t been there to see it for himself, Tanuma never would have guessed what he'd been doing one minute ago. This is the boy who dozes off on Natsume’s shoulder during long train rides, who complains about Nyanko-sensei stealing his food but still slips him treats beneath the table anyway, who is delighted just by the idea of spending extra time with Tanuma after school.

"Definitely! No take-backs!" he announces, thrilled. "Just wait till I tell Acchan!"

Natsume gives Tanuma a sympathetic look. Tanuma decides then and there that the next time Kitamoto stays home, he's staying home, too.

[ri-ahhh]

i can already tell off the bad grayson would be so protective of his s/o. even his friends tbh. like just imagine a boy bothering you and he comes to the rescue

Ugh yes. Ik some girls are against the idea of a man protecting them or whatever but I think it’s nice to have a guy that will watch out for you over some creeps.

Maybe one day you’re at a mall — you, Ethan, and Grayson — and you decide to leave the two of them at the Apple store in favor of meeting up with them at lulu lemon whenever they get finished there.

You approach the athletic store, which is moderately busy at most, and greet the two guys standing at the front with a friendly smile.

Immediately, the fit, sandy-haired one makes the step towards you in that typical, over-hyped salesman fashion.

“Hi there! Can I help you find anything?”

This guy is only a little taller than yourself, but combined with the fact that he’s stepped a couple inches too close for your comfort, and the way his blue eyes dart across your body, you immediately get hit by a sense of intimidation that you’re not used to. You don’t feel threatened, but it’s still not a pleasant sensation to be bombarded like that.

“Ah,” you take a casual step back, trying to make it look natural, as if you’re just searching the store with your gaze, “I’m just looking for now. Thanks, though.”

“No prob,” he replies with what is clearly supposed to be a charming smile. “I’m Jackson. Come holler at me if you need anything at all.”

Jackson actually holds out his hand, and before you can analyze how fucking weird that is, you take it in your own. Your cold hand feels even icier despite the heat coming from his.

“I like your outfit, by the way,” he winks, and you wiggle your hand from his grip at once as you glance down at what you’re wearing. Shorts from this very store, a wakeheart hoodie you stole from Grayson, and Nike flip flops. You couldn’t look more basic and inconspicuous if you tried, really. “Those shorts are on the back wall.”

“Uh, thanks,” you say, and finally walk away from Jackson as quickly as possible.

Now that you’ve escaped, you remember you really did have a question about finding some leggings, but Jackson had thrown you off so much that the thought had completely left your mind until now. You search the store for a female associate, and upon finding them all busy, settle for searching through some gym tops.

“You still doing okay, babe?”

Not even ten minutes later, you look up casually from where you’re flicking through hangers trying to find your size, thinking maybe whoever just said that was talking to someone else — because there’s no way some random dude just called you ‘babe’, right?

Wrong. Jackson is standing a couple feet away, twirling his lanyard around his fingers in a way that directly reminds you of the douchebag football players in high school that would stand in the hallway of the fieldhouse and cat-call the female athletes coming in and out of their respective locker rooms.

You fight back the urge to scrunch up your nose in disgust, and give him a tight smile that will hopefully convey your disinterest. “Yeah. Thanks.”

Jackson winks again and gives you a thumbs up as he walks back to his post at the front of the store. You roll your eyes at his tapered back, and brush his behavior off as just typical asshole antics.

With the store becoming more crowded, you’ve still yet to find an open sales girl whose attention hasn’t been swooped away by another customer, so you meander into the men’s section. Grayson needed some new shorts himself, and you’re always happy to shop for him.

Out of the corner of your eye, you see a head approaching that’s starting to look familiar.

Go away go away go away...

“Wrong section, beautiful,” Jackson laughs, leaning against a clothes rack, taking no care in the slightest to hide the way his eyes rake up your entire form from head to toe.

You cringe, both from his words and his gaze. Your phone buzzes in your hand, and you take a moment to ignore Jackson and answer the text from Gray.

Just left Apple, be there in a few💕

You glance up and see Jackson still standing there, watching you with an amused little smirk. You wonder if he thinks you’re being coy, or shy, or if he’s caught on to how uncomfortable you are and is reveling in it the way some ass hats like him do.

Hurry pls. This guy won’t leave me alone.

Jackson looks at you expectantly when you press the button to lock your phone screen. You’re done being nice by now, and you snatch up Grayson’s size in a pair of light blue, 5-inch shorts that will look fantastic on him.

“They’re for my boyfriend,” you state clearly, flatly. “And it’s 2020, I can wear whatever the hell I want, even if they weren’t for him.”

You start to try to go past him without another word, but he throws his hands up apologetically. “Damn, okay, I totally feel you, my bad babe. Are you sure there’s nothing else I can help you find?”

You look around, but there are no other workers in sight, and you figure you might as well just ask the question so that you can get the hell out of here.

“Fine, yeah, do you carry longer inseams or talls of leggings in store?”

Jackson smiles brightly, evidently thrilled that you took him up on his offer, and snaps into a finger-gun gesture. “I do,” he says, shifting next to you so you’re standing side-by-side. “I assumed you’d need that with those great legs. Let’s go here...”

And then, this man has the audacity to put his hand on the small of your back, trying to guide you between racks of shirts.

That’s the last straw for you. Just as you wheel around to grab his forearm and push him off of you, a deep, familiar, voice echoes in the little corner of the store you’re all in.

“Excuse me?”

Your eyes see heavily tattooed legs first, then the baby pink shorts you love so much, a hard stomach and broad chest clung to tightly by a white shirt, and finally a bearded, hard-set jaw you’d recognize anywhere.

“Hi, baby,” you sigh out in relief, stepping into his side and wrapping your arms around his trim middle.

You step on your toes and kiss his chin sweetly, your heart settling back in your chest from where it has dropped to the pit of yours stomach only a moment ago. Grayson’s thick arm curls around your shoulders and pulls you closer to him, his eyes stone cold and unwavering on Jackson, who looks rightfully terrified suddenly.

“Are you the guy my girl’s telling me keeps harassing her?” Grayson asks sternly, his Jersey coming out thick and making him even more intimidating.

“I — uh, I wasn’t —“

“Shut up,” Grayson interrupts Jackson’s stuttering. “If I didn’t believe in karma, I’d go find your manager right now and make sure your ass was fired before we leave this place. Don’t fuckin follow girls around, or put your hands on them, especially mine. Got it, asshole?”

Jackson swallows thickly and nods. “I’m sorry.”

“Tell that to her, not me,” Grayson says, motioning towards you with his head.

Jackson looks at you and repeats the apology, and you nod. “Go do your actual job, please.”

“Wait,” Grayson says, taking the clothes out of your hands and shoving them roughly into Jackson’s. “We won’t be buying these today. Goodbye.”

The two of you watch Jackson shrink away, and you release your hold on Grayson to cup his stubbles cheeks as he makes sure the other man is as far away from you two as possible.

“You good?” you check, feeling the rapid pulse under his chin and the muscled tick of his jaw beneath your hands.

Grayson takes a deep breath, then cups your hands with his as he leans down and captures your lips with a surprising softness and restraint.

“Yeah,” he answers when he pulls back, swiping a shiny little bead of saliva from your lower lip. “Come on, lets get out of here. E is in Joyrich.”

“That was kinda hot, you know,” you say once you’re walking down the open corridor hand-in-hand, fingers interlaced tightly by Grayson. “I should make you jealous more often. In a more consensual, less creepy way than that, though.”

Grayson grunts a little and releases your hand in favor of wrapping his arm around your shoulders once again, and yours snakes behind his back.

“Please don’t, I don’t think I could take it. I feel like I need to take a shit, punch a wall, and fuck you senseless all at the same time right now.”

You burst out laughing, and your fingers dip just below the waistband of his shorts and boxers teasingly. “Let’s find Ethan and go home then, and you can do all of those things.”

[bibliophilea]

Just a Flesh Wound - Ch. 2

Sorry for the wait on this chapter! I’m not sure when I’ll get to the next chapter, but I do intend to phinish this phic!

For @littlebadger.

ao3 | ffn

1 >2< 3 4 5 6

Danny's not doing so well.

It took Tucker, Sam, and Danny four hours to catch those cat-snake-ghost things — tassel-whatsits, he'll have to ask Sam what they're called later — and everything would have been fine if Valerie hadn't butted in, screaming about vengeance and death and whatnot.

Now, three hours later, Danny still hasn't managed to shake Valerie off his tail, and Tucker knows he must be tiring. None of them have gotten a break in seven hours, and it'll only take one slip up before Danny's got a hole in him they can't patch up, or Valerie takes him to her secret lair to do who knows what, or turns him over to Vlad, or—

Don't think about that.

"Remind me again why I can't just shoot at her, Tucker?" Sam growls. She's got Danny and Valerie in her scope, but her finger is very pointedly not on the trigger of the ecto-bazooka.

Tucker lists off his fingers. "One, because you might hit Danny. You're good, but not that good. Two, because you might hit Valerie, and Danny wouldn't like that. Three, because you'll blow our cover, which could blow his secret identity, and who knows how she'll react to that. Four, because—"

Sam sighs in frustration. "Alright, alright, I get it, Tuck."

"Hey, you asked." He raises an eyebrow.

"I know. It's just—" she growls. "I hate that we can't do anything! We can't even direct him to safety because she keeps getting in the way! She's going to hurt him if we can't get her off his tail or distract her or something!"

Sam throws her hands in the air, then flinches as one of Valerie's shots goes wide, hitting the parking garage across the street behind them. Dust kicks up from the impact, and it rumbles ominously. She's lucky that building's condemned, Tucker thinks, and the road workers are on break — otherwise she might hurt someone when it collapses—

Wait.

"Or something," Tucker mutters, before grabbing his binoculars and searching the sky for Danny and Valerie. He catches sight of them as Valerie shoots again, this one barely missing Danny and hitting the condemned parking garage again. It kicks up dust and debris, clouding his vision before Danny darts away again.

"What did you say, Tuck?" Sam asks.

"Or something! I've got an or something!" Tucker exclaims, dropping the binoculars so they hang from his neck. He fiddles with the Fenton phone in his ear, switching it from listen to talk and listen.

"Danny, we need to collapse the building."

"What?!" Two different voices ring out — Sam's beside him, and Danny's in his ear.

"Dudes, just trust me! We collapse the building, kick up a ton of dust you can hide in—"

"Then you can transform and stay invisible while we point Valerie away from you — Tucker, you're a genius!" Sam declares.

"But guys there's — there's people in there and — ah! Shit! — we can't just—"

"Dude, chill. It's the parking garage on the corner. The building's condemned. Just fly low so Valerie shoots at the base. We'll help take it down!" Tucker turns to Sam. "You ready to use that bazooka?"

Sam's grin is feral. "I thought you'd never ask!"

Danny doesn't speak, but he dives down to street level, goading Valerie into following him behind the condemned building with a stuck out tongue. Tucker runs along the street, Sam close behind, taking a good look at the condemned parking garage for the first time. There are no glass windows save for the four corners that hold the stairs and elevators. Most of those windows are gone, now — destroyed by ghosts or by ghost hunters or by kids looking to throw rocks at something that would break without consequence. It doesn't matter now — the building itself is half collapsed, huge chunks of concrete taken out of it as if from an explosion, leaving the broken steel rods within bare. What remains could collapse at any moment, and no one save the dead dares tread there.

He's glad the building is half-collapsed already — it makes finding the main supports keeping the rest of it up that much easier. He's so glad he took that engineering class.

"See that pillar over there?" Tucker asks, pointing into the collapsed side of the parking garage. "Take that one out first."

"On it," Sam says, readying the ecto-bazooka. With careful aim, she fires. The green-tinted ammo sails through the air, exploding against the pillar with a blast louder than a firework. The parking garage rumbles, and some of the lower floors cave inwards. As the greenish smoke clears, they see that half the concrete on the support is gone, the support itself bent inwards.

Sam's grin widens, and Tucker feels himself grinning with her. After hours of fruitless brainstorming, they can finally help Danny escape Valerie's rage!

Together, they destroy more supports, Tucker guesstimating which ones would help the building cave inwards, Sam expertly taking them out one by one. Tucker hears Danny's taunts and Valerie's screams of rage in his ears, and the sounds of impact and rumbles of the parking garage when Valerie's shots hit the building. Dust begins to fill the air. And the parking garage slowly, surely, begins to topple inwards.

Tucker has never seen a building collapse before. Not in person. He expected the dust and the noise, but he never expected there to be so much of it. He turns away as the dust comes billowing towards them — rips the Fenton phone from his ear as it emits a burst of feedback from the collapsing building and curls over himself — feels Sam yank him behind a concrete barrier and they huddle together, unable to see anything beyond the dust or hear anything beyond their less than controlled demolition—

"—can't hide forever, ghost!"

Tucker doesn't know how long it's been —two minutes? Five? Ten? — when he hears Valerie's voice over the buzzing in his ears. That's not good. Valerie should be gone by now. Danny can disappear and fly as a human, but not for long, especially after seven hours of non-stop fighting. He stands up from behind the concrete barrier, and sees Sam do the same out of the corner of his eye.

"He went that way!" Sam shouts and points.

"Inviso-Bill stole my PDA!" Tucker shouts.

Valerie pauses in the air, turning to look at them. "What?"

"Ph— Inviso-Bill stole Tucker's PDA!" Sam shouts.

"He went that way!" Tucker shouts and points.

Valerie shakes her head, growling in frustration, and points at Sam. "You. Uh, citizen. Just tell me where he went."

Sam nods, covering Tucker's mouth. Tucker resists the urge to lick her hand. "He went that way." She points down the street. "Towards the beach."

Tucker pulls Sam's hand away from his mouth.

"And he stole my PDA! My poor Jessica!" He throws his face into his hands, lamenting the loss of his PDA. He remembers when Technus stole and took over his poor PDA, and he sniffles a little. Every good lie has a kernel of truth, he's learned. And it's more important than ever that he sells this lie.

"Ugh, whatever, Fo— uh, citizen, who I definitely don't know. Um. Thanks for the tip." And then Valerie flies away, down the street at first, but steadily rising until she clears the rooftops. She then changes her bearing, disappearing behind the library.

"Man, I thought she'd never leave."

Tucker and Sam jump. They look down to see Danny sitting between them, slumped against the concrete barrier. He looks wiped. His eyes are closed, head lolling against the barrier. One leg is bent, foot resting against the curb. The other is outstretched, slightly elevated onto the sidewalk. His hair, skin, and clothes are stained gray with dust — if it weren't for the sweat beading down his face, Tucker would say he looks like a ghost. Not an Amity Park ghost — rather, a ghost from one of the movies. Quiet. Unmoving. Dead.

Then Danny opens his eyes. Piercing blue reflects the sky above, before turning to Tucker and Sam. He smiles lightly, and then raises his arms. "Help me up?"

Tucker and Sam grab his arms, heaving him up to a standing position. He sways for a moment — then the leg that was outstretched buckles, and he leans hard into Tucker with a grunt.

"Woah, dude, take it easy," Tucker says, adjusting himself so he can take on Danny's weight.

"I'm fine, Tuck. It's just—" he hisses as he gingerly places his foot on the ground, leaning further into Tucker. "Just a flesh wound."

Tucker sighs. "I know, man. But we still gotta check it out." He takes a careful step with Danny onto the sidewalk. "Sam, any luck getting a ride?"

Sam nods, typing into her phone. "I'm texting Mahira — she might ask questions, but more importantly, she won't tell mom and dad."

"Cool." Tucker's about to say something else when a soft snore snuffs against his ear. He looks down to see Danny, leaning his full weight against Tucker, eyes closed and nose snoring in his ear. Tucker smirks softly, rolling his eyes, then adjusts the way he's holding Danny, scooping his friend up bridal style. Danny would never let him carry him like this were he awake. Asleep as he is, he snuggles into Tucker's sweater, pressing his cheek to Tucker's chest. Tucker's smirk softens into a smile.

When did Danny get so light?

He walks slowly, taking his time, letting Sam walk ahead of him as he stares down at his best friend. He's still covered in dust, his hair matted with it. Bruises have begun to form on his arms and face, and are peeking out from beneath his shirt. Between the tassel-whatsits and Valerie, today has done a number on him; and it's barely noon. Despite this, his face is more peaceful than Tucker's seen in a long time. Free of tension around his eyes, free of the constant frown that normally burdens his face. Danny deserves this, Tucker thinks.

Click!

Tucker looks up to see Sam holding up her camera, a smirk on her face.

"Hey!" Tucker shouts, but then stops himself when Danny stirs.

"Shush, you," Sam sings out, turning back around. "You don't want to wake him up!"

"No fair!" Tucker whines, only just loud enough for Sam to hear. Sam chuckles and smiles back at Tucker, then runs ahead to the corner where the SUV is waiting. That must be Mahira.

Tucker picks up the pace, but only just, careful not to wake Danny. He lets Sam answer Mahira's questions; he figures Sam'll fill him in on her excuses later.

He looks down again at Danny, and can't help the small smile as Danny snores against him.

Sleep well, buddy.

[boop-le-snoot]

masterpost • main masterlist • taglist & faq

previously on...

Chapter 3 is finally here. Sorcerers need their shopping done, too. Beyonce/Wong platonic ship (joking)! And finally some action, more witchy stuff. Bucky whump because I have a saviour complex. Stucky cuteness moment. Some blood/gore in this chapter.

My insides clenched, seeing the yellow and blue notice taped to my door - the building manager rarely left notes, so whatever it was, it wasn't going to be good. I had managed to wind myself up into an anxious frenzy by the time I had gone inside and locked my door behind me, immediately thinking I would have to exhaust myself by turning to magic to keep a roof over my head.

For once, the news turned out to be positive: a neighbor was being evicted and turned in to the police for stealing packages. The building manager urged the tenants to report any missing items and apply for a refund when possible, apologizing for the inconvenience. I wondered what prompted this, basically unheard of in NYC, act of kindness as my altar stared at me with mocking amusement, pointing out the obvious by its mere presence.

Grinning to myself, I texted Odette - predictably, she was happy for me, happy that my protection spell had turned out strong and steady, and added a few tips of her own for my spell to stay that way. It felt like I'd grown invisible wings, those days, with all the possibilities open - and never once did I let myself entertain a thought of getting back at an enemy of the past for longer than five seconds.

Sure, it was perfectly human to consider making the cheating ex go bankrupt or make sure the college professor, that failed a couple of students each semester as a 'reality check', trips and face-plants at least once a day... I mean, who wouldn't experience a malicious sort of joy from petty revenge?

But I found my powers were best applied with a positive result in mind. My friend's cat was the first test rat- I mean, living creature I had practiced my healing spells on. The eleven year old kitty was struggling and both me and my friend loved the critter dearly - so the short, but tiring spell I performed yielded exactly the results I was expecting. Odette said something about genuine love backing up the magic, and- well, Dumbledore much?

On humans, it turned out, it wasn't nearly as simple. I didn't know what I had expected would happen after performing nothing short of a whole improv-performace type of ritual right in front of my very puzzled but hopeful friend with chronic asthma, but it wasn't the sheer exhaustion that ran bone-deep and left me bedridden for a whole day.

Odette visited my dingy apartment with her signature enormous purse full of vials she spoon-fed me and trinkets she strategically placed in and around my immediate sleeping area. "There, there," the woman patted my head as I pitifully moaned at the ear-splitting headache. "The first one is always the most challenging. After all, if it would be easy, everyone would do it."

I understood that. But at the same time, it felt unfair that no good deed went unpunished. I told Odette so, raising my voice to the best of my ability as she rummaged around my kitchen.

"Nothing in this world comes out of thin air, whatever you decide to give has to be taken from somewhere," she explained patiently. "People like us are considered hedge witches. We do solitary work and draw most of our energy from the Earth, from mother Nature. We cannot perform miracles, however, the cost of our spells are very low," I felt an immediate peak of interest at the simple yet effective explaination she gave me. "We remain mostly human. Gaia* is kind and generous to the ones who pay respect," Odette continued over the clatter of pans and pots. "There are other kinds of witches - who take from other people, who take from the dead. But taking something by force always leaves scars and taking something from the dead means bringing a piece of them back to places it should not be."

I pondered the words as Odette brought the kettle to a boil, the whistling shriek piercing through my skull like a sharp projectile. "What about Voodoo practitioners?" I couldn't hold back my curiosity.

Odette cleared her throat. "What is left of them is mostly not human. Their gifts are great but the costs are greater. They can live far, far longer than the average witch but their souls will know no peace, just like the souls of the dead they anchor to themselves over time," Odette entered the room with a bowl of tangy, creamy liquid that smelled like pumpkin soup. "We do not bestow any judgement upon our brothers and sisters but it is our duty to inform the young." She cast a pointed glance towards me, passing me the soup and a wooden spoon I didn't know I had. "This should help you recover. Take tomorrow off if needs be."

She left shortly afterwards and I hadn't much strength than to use the bathroom, wash the rune-engraved spoon and curl up in my bed, only waking up when the meager light shone over my face from the window. Sleepy and fog-tinted, the early morning NYC was damp and windy as I stuck my head out of the window to soak my sleep-heated head in the cool air.

As uneventful as the day at the café was, I still wasn't up to 100% energy-wise, but the long walk from Jeremy's to Odette's was pleasantly invigorating. I didn't find the cold autumn moisture displeasing; the small raindrops kept me awake and alert. Odette nodded in muted pleasure as I clocked in and returned the special spoon back to her. The runes on it were interesting; I had taken a picture of them for research purposes, fully intending to craft myself something similar.

"Odette has taken on an apprentice," Wong's voice had me take in several deep breaths in preparation for the inevitable fuck-fest on my patience. "She has been avoiding me. And the girl is painfully slow."

I didn't hear the answer of Wong's companion over the rustling of the boxes I was hastily shoving in their places before the Asian man's temper grew foul. More foul. Ugh. The sharp ding of the bell had me yelling a, "Just a second please, I'll be right with you," while trying to keep my tone polite.

Wong's sour face and a list of items required greeted me as I flew out of the backrooms, noticing the locked doors of Odette's office on my way out. Wong's companion stood at the far end of the store - his robes quite different from the ones I'd seen people of their kind wear, his lithe, tall figure seeming strangely familiar. I squinted my eyes at his back. "Is this all you need?" I waved the list around, increasing the volume of my voice.

The tall man turned around and I could only gape. He, in turn, also froze, the stern, unfriendly expression losing heat and giving way to perplexed wonder. "I had placed an order, for sorcerer Strange," Tony's boyfriend eyed me somewhat sheepishly under Wong's concerned gaze.

I nodded, eyeing Wong in turn, letting satisfaction nestle a warm ball in my chest. Stephen's look of displeasure had turned onto his... Colleague. By the time I finished retrieving Strange's order and packing up the items on Wong's list, the Asian man had left, leaving Stephen to sheepishly pretend to examine the books on the furthest shelf. I waved the paper bags as he took long strides towards me, his fancy, large necklace glimmering under the lights.

"So, how long have you been working here?" Sorcerer Strange asked after I told him the total.

The cash register beeped loudly, coins clattering on the desk as I counted out his change. "Some time now," I shrugged noncommittally. I felt his magnetic eyes gloss over my adornments, the star necklace, the various rings; I could practically feel him coming to his own conclusions. "Long enough for your colleague to get an attitude with me," I had to make sure he knew I would be taking no bullshit from him - or anyone else, for that matter. Odette's opinion on his kind was firm and I was heavily inclined to agree.

"Hmm, I see," Strange was equally as keen on hiding his curiosity. It was a funny thing, really, that we, being adults that we were, treated this encounter like some sort of a dirty secret. "Don't take it personally. Wong is like that with everyone," The man briefly scratched his beard with a gloved hand before pocketing his change and picking up the bags. "Except Beyoncè, maybe," the wink he threw me was positively mischievous as it caught me off-guard, giving him a fox-like appearance.

I sighed as the door shut behind him. Pretty white boys - the ultimate human disasters.

I had no time to dwell on them, however, as something - or someone, hit downtown with all the malicious intentions to wreak havoc on the innocent civilians calmly going about their day. Mutants and people who knew Odette came in hordes, scrapes and bruises and strange wounds that required imminent healing.

My boss was no rookie, she dutifully accepted each and every single soul, looking worse for wear with each minute. Not being able to withstand seeing her drain herself, I simply took over the simplest tasks - and she said nothing, just gave me a nod, instructed to use whatever I needed and write it down somewhere along with the name of the person who required the healing.

As the battle raged, the crowds thinned but the ones who managed to come to Odette's spouted more serious wounds, obviously a result of them fighting back. Mutants covered head to toe with coats and hats and robes, for me to swallow my shock when they undressed - horns, tails and weird skin textures were on the far end of the normal. I dutifully extracted small pieces of information from each and every person I treated.

Yes, the Avengers were winning. No, there aren't many people hurt, most of the damage is cosmetic. Yes, the villain of the week is as stupid as usual. It was like a mantra. Odette poked her head into the spare room every now and then, her eagle eyes briefly scanning over me to make sure I wasn't exterting myself.

As I applied the healing salve to a tiny, pink-skinned woman, bandaging up her hands, my boss entered and closed the door behind her, setting down on the creaky chair with a loud thud. "Just got the news, the Avengers apprehended the terrorist," she sighed long and slow. "We've done all we could, the next few days I'll be handling house calls so you'll be here on your own. I'll probably see you in a few days, don't hesitate to give me a call if something comes up," Odette seemed to be barely standing up, yet when she tore off a few pieces of her jewelry and chucked them into a big tin can under the sink, the glossy sheen in her eyes melted away.

"Okay," I mumbled under the watchful eyes of the mutant woman. "Will there be more people coming in today?"

"No," the woman in front of me snorted. "SHIELD is prowling the streets. They are not fond of us, they always say we intervene unnecessarily even though we willingly do their dirty work so our children could be safe," the bitter, harsh tone took me off-guard.

I had to admit, there was reason behind her words. "Will you be able to get home safely? I have a puffy coat and a hat you can borrow." Figuring an expensive taxi ride would be a better alternative to something terrible happening to the woman, I offered her my winter clothes.

She smiled at me, razor blade teeth and large, red eyes the kindest I'd ever seen on a person. In the end, she took the clothes, promising to bring them back in a few days and Odette gave me a parka that was too small for her frame - despite it smelling like someone's grandma's attic, I found it to be quite lovely vintage. The puffy knitted scarf she added felt like warmth and safety - she had to have knitted it herself, for I knew, handmade items carried a significant amount of energy in them.

The shop was eerily quiet as I cleaned and scrubbed the stained, dirty floors and disposed of the bloody clothes and bandages in the tiny, odd fireplace in Odette's office - that was a thing most peculiar, it burned everything I put in it, but had no chimney, no place for the smoke to exit. Magic.

Something banged loudly against the entrance door. I let out a startled shriek, broomstick falling out of my hand and adding to the sudden cacophony of noise as the figure behind the stained glass slowly slid down the door, a deep, male voice groaning something incomprehensible loud enough for me to hear.

Grabbing a large serrated knife we used for mincing the bones of small animals, I made quiet steps towards the door, seeing a large, obviously humanoid figure helplessly lean on the door. The man's arm glinted chrome black and gunmetal grey in the low light. "Sargent Barnes? Bucky?" I whisper-shouted, carefully plying open the door.

He lifted his head, blood dripping down from it, his face looked like someone went to town on it with a meat mullet, his eyes were unfocused and couldn't keep a straight line. His flesh arm leaned heavily on the door frame, the prosthetic hanging limply, dragging his whole body to its side. It must've weigh a ton.

"Я должен найти капитана Роджерса," he whispered.

I didn't understand Russian at all but I could make out the name of his boyfriend. Which made sense. Bucky looked severely concussed - I idly wondered what exactly they had been fighting, what could have given a freaking super-soldier such a brain-leaking injury. "Sargent Barnes, follow me," I put on my big girl shoes and used my momma bear voice, towing the man behind me.

He, too, weighed a ton, as I stumbled, helping him into the chair in the spare room that became my healing station for today. The longer I looked at Bucky, the less lucid he grew, eyes falling shut as he murmured something in jagged Russian, slurring his words.

There was no time to think about the consequences of exposure of my witchcraft; mortar and pestle, herbs and salves flying everywhere, I assembled a healing spell and memorized the according ritual in what felt like record time. He was bleeding all over the chair, fresh crimson blood pouring out of his nose and mouth and it was all I could see.

I hadn't known true terror until the blood that poured out turned black. Whatever it was in him, it was poisonous - my protection charms grew hot, scalding as they left marks on my skin; powering through the pain and unable to turn my eyes off the convulsing Barnes, I finished the chant just as the flow of vile, tar-like liquid suddenly ceased. It pooled around his feet, dripped down the armrests and matted his long hair. It reeked, too, of copper and putrid meat.

Bucky had passed out somewhere mid-spell, the slow, steady breathing bringing me my own sense of calm. To say that I was drained would be an understatement - my vision swam and my world spun on it's axis as I unlocked Odette's office to messily rummage through a cabinet for the emergency tonic I knew she kept there. I chugged the vial, an avalanche of almost anxious, jittery energy hit me like a freight train - exactly what I needed.

I bought myself a couple hours of time. Cleaning up the sludge around Bucky's feet and removing the outer parts of his gear was easy as he remained as relaxed as a cooked spaghetti noodle. The amount of weapons he had on him was impressive, but those weren't what I was looking for - his phone. It was dead, so I plugged it in, waiting for the 5% to show and bringing it to his fingertips, hoping he used the print recognition instead of the password option... And I lucked out.

"Hello, this is Star, I found a Bucky. Tell Dr. Strange to come get him, he knows where I am." I texted the "Stevie ❤️" contact, my inner fangirl self squealing at the dorky name of his boyfriend's contact in Bucky's phone. Shortly afterwards, I went ahead and snapped a picture of myself next to sleeping Bucky, figuring out some actual proof wouldn't do any harm in this bizarre situation.

The answer didn't let me wait long. "10 minutes" came the first text, and shortly afterwards - "Is Bucky okay??????". I had to snort at the amount of question marks before honestly replying "He will be ☺️" and putting the phone back in Bucky's pocket. I cleaned up and attempted to lift Bucky up, succeeding in waking him up into a half-lucid state, probably courtesy of decades of training and whatnot, to at least drag him to the front of the store. I wasn't particularly comfortable with strangers seeing the backrooms.

Bucky leaned with his back against the counter, ass flat on the floor and a towel with a cold compress pressed to his head when the doors all but flew open, revealing Captain Rogers, still in uniform and Stephen Strange, arguing with his boyfriend, both still suited up and bloody and grimy.

"Uhh," I blinked owlishly, causing the men to stop bickering and stare first at me, then at Bucky. "I think he hit his head," I offered weakly, backing up slightly at the amount of burning eyes staring at me.

"Shortcake, that you?" Tony's eyebrows rose as he surveyed the bodega, the items on the shelves, the black and red blood stains on my previously pristine, yellow shirt.

"Now is not the time, Tony. Go with Rogers, make sure the medical is prepared for Barnes and disable his arm," Strange barked out authoritatively, shooting me a puzzled but compassionate look. "The portal is open. I'll talk to Star, find out what happened." He advanced towards me as Captain picked up Bucky bridal-style as tenderly as he could while making sure the compress stayed on.

"Keep that tone fo the bedroom," Tony's voice was more than displeased as he shot me and Strange a hurt look, but followed Steve into the golden circle right outside the door before it sparked shut.

"Now, now, what happened here?" The sorcerer's voice lowered into a soothing drawl as I let out the breath I didn't know I was holding. My shoulders sagged, fingers twitching with anxious energy. The man extended a gloved hand, briefly squeezing my shoulder. "It's alright, take your time."

Damn, did I look that bad?

Taglist: @couldntbedamned @mikariell95 @letsby @sleep-i-ness @toomanyrobins @mostly-marvel-musings @persephonehemingway @schemefrenzy @lillsxd @bluecrazedandbeautiful @slothspaghettiwrites

[bastardtetsu]

critical thinking | ch①

pairing: kuroo tetsuro x gn!reader

genre: college au, enemies to lovers, tsundere!reader, slow burn

wc: 1.9k

warnings: swearing, being a theatre major 

※ mlist | ● ② ③ ④

you knew it was a dumb bitch move to procrastinate on your science requirement.

trying to schedule gen-eds around the demanding requirements of your theatre degree was already a nightmare, and your aversion to maths and sciences makes it even more difficult to find classes that both fit in your schedule AND don’t make you want to actively drop out of school. you weren’t sure why you thought putting off your one and only science credit until your final semester was going to solve any of that. so, you couldn’t be shocked when your only option to graduate on time ended up being 9am chemistry 1. on a monday, no less.

the first class is just as bad as you expect. the lecture drags on for ages, and as much as you will your sleepy morning brain to wrap your head around the concepts being thrown at you, no amount of caffeine, color-coded notes, or mental gymnastics can ford the river of brain-muddling frustration standing between you and a passing grade - the one you need to graduate.

panic begins to set in as you visualize all the hard work you put into your degree rendered useless, all because of a class that doesn’t even have to do with your field of study. who decided there had to be a science requirement anyway? i don’t need fucking chemistry to get a theatre degree??

“if you’re having trouble with anything,” your professor announces, bringing your attention back to the lecture that's finally wrapping up, “the tutoring center on campus is a great resource. i also hold office hours at the times listed on the syllabus. that’s our time for today folks, have a good week.”

you check the syllabus - all of the professor’s office hours conflict with your other classes, of course. asking your classmates is out of the question, seeing as you’re the lone arts major in a sea of STEM and pre-med. as annoying as it is to have to add another item to your schedule, tutoring seems like the only option if you want any hope of graduating. luckily you have some time before your next class, so you pack up your things and head for the tutoring center.

you pray that a decent chem tutor is available during any of your limited free time as you approach the lady at the desk of the tutoring office. she informs you of several with hours later in the week, none of which align with your schedule, and one who is available for the next hour. you figure tutoring right after class isn’t a bad deal - especially considering it’s your only option. the woman gives you a classroom number and a name - kuroo tetsuro - and you set out.

it doesn’t take you long to find the right classroom, but you aren’t prepared for the sight that is waiting for you there. a strong jawline and a mess of black hair that appears to stick up on its own catch your eye first as he taps away at his phone screen, his bored slouch doing nothing to hide his imposing height.

“um... hi, kuroo?” you say tentatively. his eyes glance up from his phone, slightly startled.

“oh, hey,” he responds, sitting up a bit, “you here for tutoring?”

“i am,” you reply with a half smile, “y/n.”

“kuroo. nice to meet you, y/n,” he pulls out the chair next to him as an invitation, “what year are you?”

“i’m a senior,” you say as you make your way over and sit down, “i’m in chem 1.” he definitely seems taller up close, even sitting down.

“chem 1? as a senior?” he asks derisively, his lips curling into a smirk. embarrassment and annoyance shoot through your chest.

“i’m a theatre major, alright,” you respond dryly, “i’m just trying to get my science credit and go.”

“left it ‘til the last minute, huh?” that smirk is still on his face.

“yeah, not my best decision,” you reply, trying not to let your annoyance seep through, “but i’m just trying to pass this class so i can graduate.”

“well, hopefully i can help with that,” he says smugly, “i may be a lowly business major, but i’m pretty good with chem if i do say so myself.”

a business major. of course. you’re familiar with the future capitalist machinery of the business school from your limited experience with the frat parties they so densely populated. needless to say, the impression was not good.

“so what do you need help with?”

“um...” you pondered, “all of it?” he snickered.

“you’re gonna have to be more specific if you wanna get anywhere.” his tone is dripping with amusement. is he trying to piss you off?

“ugh,” you let out an exasperated grunt, suddenly averse to showing any kind of weakness to this jerk. you pull out your notebook and flip to the page where you had attempted to take notes earlier. “this stuff.”

he leans over to take a look at your notes, and as his eyes scan the page you suddenly notice his smell - some fancy-smelling cologne with like, sandalwood or some shit - and his strong but elegant bone structure. i could cut myself on those cheekbones, you think.

“these notes are terrible.”

annnndddd he ruined it.

“well i can’t exactly take good notes if i have no clue what’s going on,” you counter, “isn’t that what you’re supposed to help me with?”

“i can try,” he says with an amused grin, “but I’ve never seen someone struggle this much with the basics on day one.”

now, you could put up with a lot of shit, but the one thing you cannot stand is being condescended to. especially not by some egotistical capitalist fucker who barely knows you.

“look,” you say pointedly, holding back the urge to throat punch him right then and there, “i’m really busy, and i just wanna pass this class, so if you could help me without being a dick about it i’d really appreciate it.”

“aw, but where’s the fun in that?”

his lips twist back into that patronizing smirk - he’s definitely trying to get a rise out of you.

“fuck off,” you say with a roll of your eyes, refusing to take his bait, “are you gonna teach me chemistry or not?”

he chuckles quietly again, thoroughly entertained. “sure. only because I’m so kind, and i could use the challenge.”

you scoff, but hold yourself back from retorting. you don’t want to give him the satisfaction.

at first, it’s excruciating. you loathe this douchey business bro getting off on being condescending while explaining chemistry to you like you don’t understand anything - which, to be fair, you don’t. but that somehow makes you resent him more.

granted, once you actually get down to business, kuroo is actually a pretty good tutor. he’s not actively annoying when he’s actually trying to teach you something, and he’s surprisingly patient and good at breaking things down. dude is smart, there’s no denying that.

nevertheless, even when he’s not being snarky, every correction he makes seems to fluster you more. you hate looking stupid in front of others, and something about kuroo seems to amplify that feeling by a thousand. you blame his attitude.

as you fumble trying to wrap your head around the unfamiliar numbers, symbols, & formulas, you’re simultaneously attempting to maintain a shred of dignity in front of this man who clearly thinks of you as the dumbest bitch on the planet. and the more you struggle, the more you worry he’s right.

“seeeee? i told you it wasn’t that hard!” he hums as you finish off another homework question you’d been struggling with. he can’t seem to praise you without being patronizing as fuck, either. you look up from your page momentarily to shoot him a glare.

frustration and embarrassment simmer inside of you with each of his snide remarks, but you hold yourself together and divert the attention back to studying each time. the restraint it takes not to deck him right in his pretty face is honestly deserving of a nobel peace prize.

“not bad,” he muses as you finally finish off the last of your homework, “and it only took you two and a half hours!”

“i’m floored,” you deadpan. your brain is too exhausted to formulate a more clever comeback. then you suddenly realize - “hang on... has it actually been two and a half hours? i thought you were only available for one??”

“technically,” he shrugs, “that’s when my tutoring hours end. but I wasn’t doing anything after, and you seemed like you needed the extra help.” that shitty smile is back. you can feel your blood boiling, but at the same time that... is actually pretty nice of him?

“ah... th-thanks,” you mumble, still resistant to showing any signs of weakness - much less gratitude - to the messy-haired prick.

“so, should i expect you back next week?” his stare reminds you of a cat sizing up its prey.

“uh... maybe,” you say. you honestly don’t have an answer yet. “i have to run though, i’ve got another class to get to.”

“don’t be a stranger,” he grins, “you’re gonna need a lot of help if you wanna graduate.”

you shoot him another glare as you swing your bag over your shoulder.

“i’ll think about it.”

he's still smirking at you as you walk out the door.

—

as much as you’d like to deny it, there’s not much to think about. none of the other chem tutors are available when you are, and there’s no way you’re passing the class without the extra help. and, as insufferable as he is, kuroo did help you get through your entire first week of homework successfully.

of course, you still resent having to rely on some nasty ass, pompous business major to mansplain chemistry to you every week so you can graduate. well, technically it’s not mansplaining since you don’t actually know anything about chemistry. and you technically also asked him to do it. but god, does he have to be such a dick about it??

it’s just an hour or two once a week, you reassure yourself, you can put up with it.

this is easier said than done, of course. the following monday, you begrudgingly approach the same classroom, empty except for one (1) chickenhead douchebag, who promptly stares you down with the most shiteating smile you’ve ever seen.

“oya oya~ look who decided to come back!” he croons.

“don’t flatter yourself, it’s not like I had much of a choice,” you respond flatly. why is he still looking at me with that dumb expression?

“true, there’s no way you’re passing on your own.”

“listen,” you reply pointedly, “some people have better things to do than worry about how many neutrons are on hydrogen or whatever”

“hydrogen doesn’t have any neutrons.”

“COOL!!!! i just want to graduate!!”

“well then you’re gonna need to know that hydrogen doesn’t have any neutr-”

“ALRIGHT, i got it,” you huff, “can you just… help me figure out this balancing equations shit? WITHOUT being an asshole about it?”

“hmm… sorry, i can only accept one request at a time.”

this is gonna be a long fucking semester.

a/n: eeeeee this is the first time i’ve actually wholeheartedly attempted to write a fic in lord knows how long (possibly ever?? idk them memories repressed) and my first time posting my own writing so i hope y’all like it !! everybody who’s ready to see me trash talk k*roo t*tsuro say way ho

[livvibee]

Three Times Tony Wanted to Kiss Peter and One Time Peter Kissed Him Instead

Pairing: Starker Rating: Mature (M) Notes: This fic fulfills my “First Kiss” square for @starkerfestivals​ summer bingo. Warnings: sexual content, Tony being an oblivious bottom Read here or on AO3.

Spring

It was the in-between time all insomniacs are familiar with, too late to be night and too early to be morning. The sun was barely flirting with the horizon, and the birds had yet to chirp, but the canopy of stars was beginning to fade from the inky blue sky. 

Tony was sitting in the courtyard at the center of the compound, with only the babbling of the water feature behind him to keep him company. His mug of coffee had long gone cold at his side as he stared blankly at the sky, keeping his eyes open in an attempt to avoid a tormented sleep. The stars that used to be such a comfort had their own set of bad memories attached, flying through the wormhole, being stranded in space surrounded by a sea of lights, cooling off on the lake house dock after explosive fights with Pepper. 

Tony heard the door swoosh open and quiet footsteps emerge. He looked over his shoulder to see a welcome sight. The object of his hopeless and quiet affections padding across the courtyard with two cups of coffee, steaming in the cool spring air. Peter was still dressed in his pajamas, muscled thighs below soft shorts, barely peeking out under the oversized tee that was threadbare with use, stretched out neckline drooping on one shoulder and exposing the razor-sharp edge of his collarbone. Fuck, he’s so pretty. 

“Can’t sleep either?” Peter held up the coffee like a peace offering for shattering the silence of the dawning day. 

Tony offered up a small smile but didn’t otherwise comment, taking the coffee in his sleep-deprived grip with shaking hands. Peter sat on the bench, shoulder touching with Tony’s as they relaxed and drank their coffee while the sun rose. Tony blinked away the film of exhaustion gathering in his eyes, finally ready to talk after countless sips of hot java. 

“What’s eating at you, Underoos?” 

Peter let out a soft sigh. “The usual. People I couldn’t save. Dissolving into dust on an alien planet. You know. Spidey stuff. You?” 

Tony tilted his head to rest against Peter’s and secretly thrilled at the additional point of contact. “Just thinking about the stars, Pete.”

They sat in silence again for some time before Peter shifted on the bench to face Tony, ducking his head a little in shyness. “Have you ever, you know, tried talking to someone about things? Sometimes I think I should, then I feel like I should be stronger, able to handle everything on my own.” 

Tony could see Peter starting to crack. “Hey, hey, no.” He put a hand on the other man’s to steady him, fighting the desperate urge to kiss Peter until the worry lines around his eyes relaxed. “You don’t have to carry everything on your own. It does help to have someone to talk to. You know, you can always come to me, or if you’d prefer a third party, I can help you find one. It wouldn’t be the first time someone on the team needed a little help, Pete.” Tony felt Peter’s eyes blazing into his own, searching his face for what, Tony wasn’t sure.

“Thanks, Tony,” Peter exhaled with shaky breath. “I think I’ll take you up on that.”

The two men sat together, quietly talking as the sun blazed orange into the sky, creeping up over the horizon and finally coming into view over the edge of the courtyard wall. Tony wouldn’t realize it until later, but their hands stayed touching for hours, until the complex was waking up around them, figures bustling to and fro visible through the windows. 

Summer

The Avengers annual summer cookout and pool party was the event of the season. The entire team would show up for hotdogs and hamburgers by the pool. Tony was sweating in the summer heat manning the small cabana bar, mixing up cocktails for his teammates and friends. Most of the team were relaxing by the pool, watching the younger set monopolize the diving board with cannonballs and flips, while Rhodey was chatting his ear off about the latest military gossip. 

Tony’s attention wandered as Peter rose out of the water like a Greek god, lifting himself with ease up the side of the pool. Tony was bewitched by the flex of his arms, and watched with hunger as the receding waters revealed Peter’s well built body, inch by inch. From the thick planes of his pecs to his rippling abs, down to his well defined quads and calves Peter was cut like a statue, some superhuman version of a man. Peter made his way across the patio toward the bar. 

Oh my God, he’s coming over here. Play it cool, Tony!

“Hey guys, how’s it going?” Peter’s chirped, hair glistening wetly in the sunlight.

“Hey Spiderling, everything’s good here,” Tony blurted out. “Having a good time, care for a drink? I’m making mai tais!”

“Sure, that sounds delicious.” Peter smiled expectantly toward Tony, watching as he mixed the drink together and gave it a vigorous shake over his shoulder before pouring it into one of the patriotically themed cups. 

“Thanks!” Peter grabbed the drink and gave it a careful sip. “Mm, Tony this is delicious.”

Yeah, I’ll tell you what else is damn delicious. You.

“Sure thing kid, it’s my pleasure. You’ve got a little on your lip, just there.” Tony watched as Peter’s tongue ventured out beyond his lips and slowly traced his top lip, biting back a whine at how badly he wanted that tongue in his mouth. 

“Did I get it all?” Peter asked, the picture of innocence. 

“Yep!” Tony’s response was rushed and his smile wide and fake as he tried to get control of himself. 

Peter took another drink from his glass before smiling and thanking Tony again. The younger man turned to face the pool, adjusting his clinging swimming trunks then stretching his body like a cat as he walked, arms up into the sky, keeping his beverage carefully balanced. Tony hungrily watched the play of muscles along his back as his arms lifted before focusing his gaze on the two perfect round orbs inside his trunks as Peter walked away. Tony bit his lip as he imagined all that bulk holding him down, spearing him open to just-

“Tony! Earth to Tony!” Rhodey’s voice cut in and dropped Tony right out of his fantasy. “Are you through staring at Peter, or should I go and leave you alone with your thoughts?”

Alert! Deflect! Deflect!

“Peter?!” Tony sputtered, trying to gather his thoughts and come up with a plausible excuse. “Uh, I wasn’t staring at Peter, I was on a mental tangent about the latest StarkPad design.” Tony laughed nervously. “You know I’m always working on something, honeybear.”

Rhodey shot him an unimpressed look. “Cmon, Tones, I’ve known you longer than that.”

Tony crumpled under his best friend’s perceptive gaze. “You’re right, I’m pathetic. Lusting after a man so many years younger than me. It’s ridiculous really, I don’t even think he’s into guys.” He glanced hesitantly at Rhodey’s face, who still looked extremely unimpressed.

“I swear your genius intellect deserts you at the most infuriating times.” Rhodey turned to walk away, saying over his shoulder, “Denial ain’t just a river in Egypt, Tony”

Fall

Tony traced the line of Peter’s throat with eager eyes, watching the movement of his Adam’s apple as the younger man gulped down water. Rivulets of sweat were tracing down Peter’s shirtless form, collecting in the divots of his abs and tracing the vee of his obliques, soaking into the band of the sinfully tiny shorts slung from his hips. The golden autumn light from the window backlit the fine hair on his gloriously muscled thighs, and surrounded Peter with a shimmering halo from head to toe. Tony drank in all the details, burning them into his brain as he jogged on the treadmill. 

He’s so fucking hot. Soaked in sweat, glistening above those short-shorts. Honestly how much of this can one man take? Can the universe just give me one night? I just wanna grab at his-

“Hi,Tony!” Peter called across the gym, waving and trying to catch the man’s eye.

The sudden movement and attention startled Tony, and he tripped and went careening backward off the equipment, landing flat on his back and knocking his head on the floor. “Ow! Fuck.” 

“Oh my God! Tony!” Peter bounded across the compound gym and slid to his knees next to Tony’s embarrassed and sore form. “Tony, are you okay?”

Tony opened his eyes to see Peter’s face hovering above him. His warm brown eyes were round with concern, chestnut curls in disarray. Tony smiled up at him with a dopey grin, and lifted a hand to touch his cheek, desperately wanting to kiss away the frown on his perfect lips. “You are so gorgeous, you know that, right?”

A flash of something rose and sank in Peter’s eyes so quickly Tony couldn’t identify it. “Okay…” Peter said, drawing out the o. “Time to get you checked out, come on.” 

Peter hauled Tony up to his feet, ignoring his squawking protests that he was “just fine, c’mon, Pete” and hustled him into medical to get checked out.

Later, after being treated for his bumps and bruises, Tony was fervently grateful that Peter hadn’t listened to the besotted rambling he could fuzzily remember.

Ugh, c’mon, Tones, keep it together and leave the kid alone. You said he was beautiful and he reacted by taking you to medbay. Tony thought to himself with mild disgust, sitting alone on the edge of the medbay bed. You’ve gotta get over this!

Peter popped his head around the corner, startling Tony out of his thoughts. “Hey, you ready to get out of here?”

Tony tried and failed to stifle his blinding grin into something more appropriate. “You came back.” 

Peter laughed. “Wasn’t gonna leave you all alone to recover, but I was desperate for a shower after that workout. Let’s head back to your place, we can watch movies while you rest up.”

Winter

They were in the lab when it happened. Tony had just given Peter a new StarkPhone to replace his old, battered model with the cracked screen. As Peter’s apps and setting transferred over, Tony heard it. That sound. The unmistakable ping of the most popular gay hookup app. Peter didn’t even flinch from where he sat next to Tony, just kept going about his business working on a new suit modification as the notification sounded over and over. 

Tony’s mouth was dry, his heart pounding in his temples, sweating under his threadbare MIT hoodie. A momentous revelation was dawning over his head, and the kid was just sitting there innocently working like he hadn’t changed Tony’s life in a careless instant. This means... Peter likes guys. Oh my God, Peter likes men? 

“Uhhh, Pete?” Tony’s voice was soft and hesitant. “I think your phone is going off…” 

Peter was flippant as he answered, gesturing with the bright red candy cane he’d been sucking between his sugar-sticky lips. “Oh yeah, nothing important. Sorry, it is bothering you? Let me just put the phone on silent.”

“Oh, yeah, no it’s fine. I’m not bothered at all.” Tony delicately cleared his throat. “So… I’m surprised a man like you needs an app to find a hookup.”

Peter’s eyes boggled as he spun around on his stool to face Tony. “How did you… Wait, what?”

“I mean, not to be awkward or anything, but I couldn’t help but notice the notification sound.” Tony began, before delicately saying. “You seem to be very popular. I’m surprised a guy like you needs a hookup app to begin with. I mean let’s face it, you’re very, ah,” Tony’s voice squeaked humiliatingly as his mind flashed over thoughts of Peter’s physique. ”Attractive…”

Peter threw his hands up in the air, wild exasperation written across his features. “This! This was what got your attention? My notifications?!” Peter spun on his stool to face Tony directly, voice still raised as he waved his half eaten candy cane. “Tony, I’ve been trying to draw your attention to me being gay for almost a year! I’d practically given up!” Peter pointed accusingly at Tony. “Do you know the ridiculous things I’ve done? The outfits I’ve worn? I’ve tried to seduce you in the gym, by the pool, in the lab! Hell, I’ve been deep throating a candy cane for the past 25 minutes! An app! Unbelievable!”

“Uh, what?” Tony was completely floored by Peter’s ranting as his thoughts raced, trying to make sense of the conversation. Seduce me? He’s been trying to seduce me? What the fuck?

“And now you have the audacity to be shocked?” Peter was seething at Tony as he sat there stunned. 

Suddenly Peter grabbed Tony’s shoulders and pulled him into a furious kiss. Tony instinctively tilted his head as their lips clashed together, making a small sound of shock behind his closed lips. Tony’s lips parted as Peter’s tongue darted in delicately, stabbing gently inside Tony’s mouth. The older man moaned into the kiss, feeling heat spread down to the tips of his toes. 

Peter drew back and lifted his hands from Tony’s shoulder to grasp desperately at the sides of his head, mumbling against Tony’s lips. “You’re an incredibly infuriating man, Tony Stark.”

Tony panted quietly, half hard in his jeans and head spinning. He reached out to grab at the sleeves of Peter’s sweater and steady himself. 

“I… I didn’t know, Pete,” Tony whispered. “I would never think that you’d be interested in someone so much older and frankly you’re just so attract-” 

Peter gently shushed Tony and brought their lips back together for a series of light pecks, petting absently at Tony’s hair while they kissed. 

The younger man pulled away again to speak. “Let me show you how interested I am. Can I do that?”

“Yes!” Tony gasped as Peter leaned in to suck a livid mark into his neck. “You can do anything to me.”

Peter grinned against the column of Tony’s throat. “That’s an awfully big promise. I might make you regret it.”

Tony pulled Peter’s head up to look at Peter seriously. “I don’t think you could make me regret this, even if you tried.”

Peter’s eyes widened before he leaned forward desperately, knocking their mouths together again, finesse gone out the window. Their teeth clacked as the kiss deepened, Tony’s mouth being plundered once again. 

The next hour passed by in Tony’s mind in a blur of sin. Being spread over the lab table, pants down around his knees as Peter proved his tongue was just as talented in Tony’s ass- gasping at the slow penetration as Peter worked him open with strong fingers- crying out in pleasure over and over as Peter thrust in, deep strokes pressing across Tony’s sweet spot- feeling Peter’s hand wrapped around his straining erection, pulling Tony over the edge with rough strokes and a rush of white heat as Peter chased his own pleasure in Tony’s tightness. 

They ended up on the cold floor of the lab, Tony cuddled against Peter’s chest, sticky with sweat and release. 

“That… that was fantastic,” Tony sighed, hiding his face against the solid muscles beneath him. 

Peter’s grasp tightened where he was holding Tony close. “I knew it would be. Totally worth a year of slow seduction to wind up with you in my arms.” 

Tony let out a bark of laughter. “I guess Rhodey really was right, he was shaking his head at my idiocy all the way back at the pool party this summer.”

Peter’s chest under Tony’s head as he laughed. “Rhodey was totally right. He’d already given me a shovel talk by then, and I was beginning to think it would never be relevant. He pulled me aside after the party and told me not to give up hope, and explained all the hearts you’ve broken through sheer obliviousness over the years.”

“Yeah, he’s a good wingman,” Tony reminisced fondly before Peter’s words fully processed. “Wait, hang on, all the hearts I’ve broken through obliviousness?”

“Never change Tony, please.” Peter’s voice crackled with mirth before lowering into seriousness.  “Now that I have you, I don’t want to share you with anyone else.” 

[imnotoverlyobsessive]

Mabel’s All-in-One Guide to Being a Shooting Star: How to Avoid Being Caught and Other Tips You Should Know

Chapter Three: Not Dipper

A big ol thank you to @edward-or-ford and @pacific-ship!

He’s so tall and handsome as hell; he’s so bad but he does it so well. I can see the end as it begins.- Taylor Swift, Wildest Dreams

Warmth.

Warmth and safety.

Those were the first things Mabel noticed when she woke up for those few brief seconds, the first things she could recall feeling. She was too tired to open her eyes, and her head was freaking killing her, but there was warmth seeping into her skin like melted butter into bread, and something smelled remarkably good.

It wasn’t a familiar smell, not by any means, but she found she liked it quite a lot. She turned her face towards the warm, smooth fabric the scent was coming from, nuzzling it happily with a small smile.

It didn’t help her killer headache, of course, but her bed or whatever it was, it smelled goooooood, and she was all for it.

She felt as if nothing could touch her, there in that little bubble of delicious-smelling warmth, and she wondered idly if Dipper was around, because she only ever felt so happy and safe when she was with him.

When had she seen him last, again? Mabel couldn’t remember. She couldn’t remember anything, really.

Oh well. Whatever. She was warm. She was safe. She was comfortable. She was happy. She smiled again, just a little bit, as her thoughts faded when she lost consciousness again.

She would not be so content when she woke the second time.

———————————————————————

There was a throbbing in her skull. An intense kind, particularly in her temples and behind her eyes. It hurt worse when she opened her eyes, and it took them several rapid blinks to adjust to lights that were actually quite dim, but with her concussion headache, they seemed ridiculously bright against the blue ceiling.

“Yeesh,” she muttered, sitting up on the… was that a chaise? Yup, okay, that was definitely a chaise. She’d never even seen one in person; those things were for fancy people. Mabel had always been many things, but fancy most certainly wasn’t one of them.

Anyway, she was sitting up on the super-duper fancy chaise, her hands supporting her. “My head, what in the…” Dammit, her wrists and arms hurt, too, those were, ugh, were those rope marks? They sure looked like rope marks.

There was a sound nearby when she spoke loud enough to be heard, but Mabel’s head was throbbing so loudly in her ears that she couldn’t hear much of anything. She massaged the skin on her wrists, trying to get the soreness to dissipate. It didn’t.

And then the whole thing came rushing back.

Shit. Was she married to the gnomes now? Was that gonna be her life? No, no, it was fine, gnome marriage wasn’t legally binding, she didn’t think, and even if it was, it wasn’t legal for somebody to marry a whole bunch of people at once, and it definitely wasn’t legal for that somebody to be an unwilling participant. Therefore, any marriage contracts they may or may not have drawn up were null and void, legally speaking. Which meant she needed to escape. Which meant she needed to figure out where she was.

Wait, what about the blood-gnome? What was up with that? Or, shit, the floating glow-dude! What the heckity hecking heckfire was going on with that shiz?

Suddenly, out of nowhere (or perhaps not truly nowhere; she just hadn’t examined where she was just yet, as she hadn’t looked up), a pair of arms wrapped around her, and her head was squished against a very masculine, yummy-smelling (the same smell as before, actually! What a lovely coincidence!) chest. Mr. Hugglebus reached up and threaded his fingers through Mabel’s hair, holding her head against him.

“Mabel,” a voice whispered, like its owner couldn’t believe he was getting to say her name. It was familiar, but also very much not, and Mabel was, like, off-the-charts levels of confuzzled. “Mabel,” the voice said again. “I thought I’d never see you again.”

It was hard to think with the pounding in her ears, but she did her best to ignore it.

She had bigger things to deal with than a headache, no matter how nasty it was.

“Wh- whoa there, friend,” Mabel said shakily, putting her hand on his chest and pushing away from him lightly. Mr. Hugglebus pulled back enough for Mabel to get a proper look at him, and…

Wait.

What?

“Dipper?” she gasped. He said nothing. “What is up with your hair, man?” she laughed. “Or- or your getup, like! What? You goin’ to a fancy party or something? No, no, wait!” she was giggling, and it hurt her head, but it was just so goddamn good to see him she didn’t care. “Okay okay, I know! You’re doing, like, a knock-off impersonation of Gideon, right?” He furrowed his brow, annoyance filling his ice blue eyes.

But… wait. Ice blue eyes? Dipper has brown eyes. They were identical to hers. She knew this. She’d stared into those stupid-beautiful eyes of his a bazillion and one times. She knew her bro bro’s eyes, aight? She knew those suckers. This guy, though. This guy was different. Like. Different different.

“Are you… are you Dipper? ‘Cause like. The Dipster I know won’t even wear color contacts for cosplay purposes, and those eyes ain’t blue naturally, so…”

It was several moments before he finally spoke. He was gazing at her with this weirdly intense look in his eyes (holy crap, those eyes, they were so pretty, nobody’s eyes should be allowed to be that freakin’ blue) she’d never seen on anyone before.

“I’m not… your Dipper,” his emphasis the ‘your’ was strange, condescending, as if he loathed saying it.

She scooted away, her back hitting the arm of the chaise.

All she could think about was a gnome drenched in blood, babbling in terror before exploding violently.

”Then who are you?” she whispered, eyes wide.

He smiled, and not unkindly, either. It was… strange. It was a kind smile from someone who didn’t look like such things came to them naturally. It was nothing like her twin’s smile.

Nothing like it at all.

It did something to her insides. Something she didn’t understand. Something she didn’t know how to interpret or name.

“Don’t worry,” he murmured, keeping his distance, his legs twitching as if he wanted to get closer to her. “I’m not going to hurt you.”

“Okay,” she said, not believing him in the slightest. ‘Cause. Like. The blood-gnome. Had that been him? Had he done that? She hadn’t seen it, but in retrospect, it totally made sense for him to have done that somehow. “But who are you?” she asked again.

“I’m something of an… alternate version of the Dipper you know.” The more he spoke, the more she found his voice to be different and strange. Plus, he looked so similar to Dipper, but Mabel only ever saw her bro’s birthmark once in a blue moon. This guy had it front and center, and his hair was slicked back, and she lowkey wanted to touch it, just to see what it felt like. His voice was deeper than Dipper’s. More monotone, too. It was bizarre.

It was… it was attractive, is what it was. His look and attitude, the whole shebang, it was just insanely attractive. Wait, no, no! Mabel thought to herself. It’s cool, Mabel girl, you’re all good, everything’s a-okay, it’s just that he looks like your bro, alright? No big deal. Well, okay, you shouldn’t be having those kinds of thoughts about your bro, either, but we’re well past that.

“Alternate… version…?” Wait. Shit. Maybe he was… “Are you the anti-Dipper?” She whispered frantically, trying to back away more as if her back wasn’t already firmly pressed against the armrest. “There’s tons of different versions of me, I know that, but I’ve never seen another version of Dipper, and you look just freakin’ like him except for your whole… style and general demeanor, I guess, so-“ she was trying to get up, but holy hot pockets, that was some serious dizziness right there.

Moreover, was there another Mabel in this universe? She hadn’t seen another Mabel in years. It’d be… interesting to see one again. Wait, shit, if he was the anti-Dipper, there was the anti-Mabel somewhere around there, and Mabel was not at all confident she could currently best the anti-Mabel in a fight. And something told her the anti-Mabel wasn’t exactly one for fighting fair and waiting till she was ready. She wasn’t the meme-worth Inigo Montoya, and this wasn’t The Princess Bride.

Dammit.

Wait, he’d said he’d never expected to see her again. And she’d definitely never met him before, she would’ve remembered a fancy, older version of her bro, which could only mean he was talking about the other Mabel. Had something happened to her? Had she left, maybe?

“I’m not,” he cut in quickly, moving towards her slowly, like she was a feral cat ready to book it at any moment. “I’m not the… anti-Dipper, or whatever it was you said.”

She looked around. They appeared to be in some sort of dressing room. No, wait, it was Gideon’s dressing room! Except it wasn’t, because Not-Dipper was there, lounging on the ultra-fancy chaise as if he owned it, which he might very well have done, because Not-Dipper didn’t exactly look like he was a broke college student.

He looked like he used hundred dollar bills as tissues like Woody Harrelson in Zombieland.

Still very much fighting the urge to attempt to GTFO, as the kids say, Mabel turned back to him. “What are you, then?” He blinked for a moment, as if he were surprised, and then she belted out more questions. “What’s your name? How old are you? You don’t look like you’re the same age as me, which is weird if we’re kinda-sorta-pseudo-twins. Why am I here? Where even is here? How-“

“Okay, let’s do this properly, shall we?” He tilted his head when he spoke, the corners of his lips curling upwards in another one of those strange smiles that did something to Mabel’s insides. “One question at a time,” he said, holding up a long, slender finger. “You can ask me anything you want, and I promise to answer truthfully. However,” he crossed one leg over the other, his foot dangling off his knee, the arm closest to her draping casually over the back of the chaise, “for every question I answer, I get to ask one of you in return. You don’t have to answer me, of course, but if you choose not to, that’ll be the end of our little game,” he paused for a moment. “For the time being, at least. Sound fair?”

She nodded hesitantly. She could stop at any time, right?

“Go ahead, then,” he waved the hand that dangled haphazardly over the chaise.

“What’s your name?”

“Mason William Gleeful, but I’ve always been called Dipper,” he said easily, as if he’d been fully expecting that very question.

“Because of the birthmark, I assume,” Mabel was very careful not to phrase it as a question, not to raise the pitch in her voice at the end of her sentence. She didn’t know how he’d react if she asked two questions in a row.

“A fair assumption,” he agreed with a slight nod and another one of those smiles. Ugh. Could ya not, man? Like, for real, Mabel thought. His smile was most definitely not helping her nausea. “And your name? Your full name, if you would.”

“Oh, um,” was she seriously forgetting her own name? Jeez, Mabel, get it together, he’s not Dipper, get over it! “M- Mabel Caroline Pines,” she managed to stutter out.

“Pines, hm? Interesting. Alright then. Shall I go along with your other questions from before, as well?”

She shook her head. “Actually, I was wondering about your last name,” he raised his eyebrows at her and motioned for her to continue. “There’s a sort of… psychic, I guess is what you’d call him, in my universe, and he has that last name. Is that… I mean… we are in what looks like his dressing room, so…”

“I did shows here,” he said quietly, a strange look in his eye, as if he wasn’t seeing her despite looking right at her. “Once upon a time.”

“Oh. I see,” she squeaked out.

His gaze sharpened on her again, and he was moving closer to her, and Mabel tried to back up further, her sneakers scrambling against the fabric of the chaise. Eeek way too close way too close back the fudge up, man, what are you even-

“Why were you in his dressing room?” He was right in front of her face by that point, like waaaaaaay too close, ‘cause their noses were almost brushing and she could see each individual eyelash, and god his eyes were even more startlingly beautiful up close, and she wanted to reach up and touch-

No no no no, bad, bad Mabel, he’s not your Dipper, this is a different version! she told herself firmly. No touchy!

“We gave each other makeovers,” she said, trying very hard to keep her voice even. When he raised his eyebrows at her, she got mildly defensive. “I was twelve! He was… I dunno, ten or eleven! Jeez!” He chuckled at that, then leaned away from her, satisfied with her answer, she supposed, and resumed his previous position as if he’d never moved from it at all.

As if he hadn’t just sent a chill down her spine that was… not altogether unpleasant, which was significantly more concerning than it would’ve been if she’d hated every second he’d been near her.

She pursed her lips and put it from her mind. “How old are you?”

“Twenty-five,” he said easily. “And you?”

“Nineteen,” she told him quietly, surprised at his age. She glanced at the foot he’d balanced on his knee.

His shoes were fancy, too. Everything about him seemed to be. “Not what you were expecting, I see,” he observed from her expressions. Damn her and her expressive face!

“Well, it makes sense, because you certainly look older than… than my Dipper.” Her voice shook on the word ‘my’.

His hand clenched into a fist.

She didn’t know what to think of it. Was he angry, or did it mean nothing?

“But it also doesn’t make sense, because if it’s a parallel universe, we should be the same age, I would think.”

“Well, not necessarily,” Not-Dipper reasoned. “In some universes, time moves at different rates, from what I’ve gathered. In our case, it’s the same, but it seems I was born earlier. I was born in 1993, whereas you were born in…” he thought for a moment, tilting his head to the side. “1999.”

“Oh.” She’d never noticed that when interacting with other Mabels. Perhaps it was simply because she was too preoccupied with not dying. It had seemed rather urgent at the time.

“Indeed,” he nodded. “So, your questions,” he reminded her after a few seconds of silence.

“Right.” What had they been again? He kept looking at her, she had to get him to stop doing that. It was distracting. His eyes were distracting. She couldn’t think when they were in her, dammit. Oh! That was it! “Where are we?”

“My universe. I found you with and brought you here through a portal,” he stuck a hand in his pocket. “If you meant the locale, however, as I said before, this was our-“ he cut himself off, took a breath. “My dressing room until several years ago, when I stopped performing.”

“I… see,” she said slowly. So where was the other Mabel, then? Shouldn’t there be a fancy, blue-eyed, properly Adult™ version of herself somewhere? She looked around the dressing room (holy crapinoli, she didn’t think she’d ever seen so much blue in one room), but there were no signs of a woman anywhere. There were no perfume bottles or makeup on the vanity, no dresses on the clothing rack, nothing.

How strange.

“Why were you in Gravity Falls?” He asked.

“To get away.” Helooked at her questioningly. Did it count if it was an unspoken question? She wasn’t sure, but she wasn’t risking it. “I needed an escape. College can be… stressful.”

That wasn’t the full reason, of course, but she wasn’t lying, either.

“Interesting.” He tapped his fingers on his leg. How could a person’s fingers be pleasant to look at?

“Why did you bring me here?”

“You needed help,” he said simply, shrugging a shoulder. He winced slightly when he did, but just a bit; the change in expression so minor she wasn’t sure she’d seen it at all. “However did you find yourself kidnapped by gnomes, of all things? Gnomes who wanted you for their queen, no less.”

She looked away. It’d been a long time since she had fought against anything but class schedules and exams she wasn’t prepared for.

“They… caught me off guard,” she told him quietly. “They tried something similar when I was a kid, but they lost. It never occurred to me that they might try again.”

“Gnomes are persistent little things,” he mused. “They dislike losing, and they are quite stubborn. It stands to reason that they’d try again if you’d beaten them before.”

“What… what did you do?” Her voice was quiet, almost a whisper. “To the gnomes, I mean. Unless, of course, I’m misremembering, because there is every chance I am, what with the concussion I very likely have and all, so if I am just say the word, but it seemed pretty dang clear that-“

“I killed them,” he said bluntly. His face was bored, disinterested. Apathetic, even. It didn’t even seem to be bothering him. How could it not be bothering him? Unless…

Unless he’d killed before.

The human brain could get used to just about anything if given enough time.

“You- you killed them,” her voice was horrified, she knew. She could hear it in her tone. Yeah, she’d wanted to get away from them, she’d wanted them to leave her alone, and maybe she’d even wanted to give them a good whack, but she hadn’t wanted them dead.

“Of course I did,” he sounded surprised at her reaction. “They hurt you. They were going to hurt you far worse.”

“I know that,” she whispered. “I know that. But that doesn’t give you the right to just… you can’t be someone’s judge, jury, and executioner. That’s not right.”

“I only did it to save you, Mabel.” She had only heard Not-Dipper say her name once before.

It was different than when Dipper said it. Maybe it was because Not-Dipper’s voice was a little deeper, a little smoother-sounding?

“You weren’t safe. Not in your universe.” His eyes were burning, which was strange since they were the color of ice. “I can keep you safe. I will keep you safe.”

“Ummm… that’s cool and all, but that’s pretty freakin’ unsettling, to have somebody just, like. ‘Splode a bunch of gnomes for you,” she eyed him warily, still trying to figure out how to get away from the dude without crawling. Would he get angry with her for not being appreciative? She didn’t want to see him angry. Would he hurt her?

“I don’t want you to be scared of me,” he told her quietly, his voice a little sad.

She almost lied and told him she wasn’t scared of him, that everything was hunky-dorey, and that he should smile.

She didn’t.

“Then maybe you shouldn’t have, I dunno, made people explode in front of me?” She was being sarcastic, she knew, and that was probably a bad idea, but sometimes she just couldn’t help herself.

“Gnomes aren’t people, technically,” he reminded her.

“Semantics,” she waved his argument away. “They’re living creatures. Or they were, anyway, before you decided to go and massacre them.”

Not-Dipper had a look on his face that suggested he wasn’t opposed to killing living creatures, whether they were human or not.

Maybe he already had.

Mabel hoped he hadn’t, but something in the way he held himself gave her a sneaking suspicion that he had.

“I’m sorry if that… bothers you, or if it scares you. I don’t want to make you feel those things,” he sighed. “That said, I think it’d be best if I were up front with you: if put in the same situation again -if you were in danger again, that is to say- I’d do the same thing.”

She crossed her arms, pursed her lips, and glared at him. “Take me home, please.”

There was panic in his eyes. “I- I can’t.”

“Why not?”

“The portal… it doesn’t work like that. I’ll have to find another way to get you back,” he explained. She was still glaring at him when he continued. “But for the time being, you can stay with me. If you want,” he turned his body to face her for the first time since he’d hugged her.

“Well. I suppose that’ll have to- WHAT ON EARTH IS THAT?” She was pointing, horrified, to his shoulder, where one arrow, perhaps about a foot long, was embedded in his shoulder. Another was in his side, the one that had been facing away from her. Blood had seeped through to pool around the entry wounds, though the bleeding seemed to have stopped. His eyes followed her shaking finger.

“Oh, right. I got shot with a couple of arrows. Just gnome ones, though, so they’re quite small,” she dropped her hand back to the soft fabric of the chaise.

“Okay, so you saved me, and you got hurt doing it,” she was saying this to herself, staring at her knees and speaking as if he couldn’t hear her when he could absolutely hear her. “Okay. Okay. This is fine, this is fine, Mabel girl.” She looked back up at him. “Okay, let’s go… wherever we need to go for you to treat those… yeah…”

“Very well,” he agreed. “I’ll take you there.”

He helped her to her feet, and she still found herself a bit dizzy, wobbling a bit.

“Would you like me to carry you?” he offered, steadying her with a hand on her arm.

“Carry m- say what now?”

“I don’t mind, particularly if you’re having difficulty walking still.” As if that explanation was adequate! Why was homeboy cool with it at all, though? She’d gotten a hella nasty gash on her leg once in PE, can ya guess how many people offered to freakin’ carry her to the nurse? Zero, is the answer. Zero.

What a weird dude. And Mabel was in love with her gay twin brother, so if she, of all people, thinks you’re weird, then you are weird.

“Nope!” she squeaked out way too quickly to sound even remotely close to being normal. “I’m good on the carrying front, thanks! Got it covered!”

“Suit yourself.” Ugh why, why was he smiling that smile again, it reminded her of Dipper and also not, and it made her nervous as all hell. “This way.” And with that, he promptly strolled out of his dressing room, clearly expecting her to follow.

[gumnut-logic]

An unusual fear

This is for @misssquidtracy​ who asked for Merlot: Do you have any unusual fears? Thank you for asking :D

I do. Ocean waves and thunder. The wave phobia is the result of being dumped by a wave in water almost out of my depth when I was about four years old. It was the loss of control and the fact that no-one in the group with me noticed my distress. I righted myself, but my brain recorded it all in detail and now I have lots of difficulty with waves in the water.

This was compounded by a father who did not understand and yelled a lot. There were scenes of him chasing me down beaches demanding I go into the water despite being absolutely terrified. Going to the beach as a kid was a torment. I would beg the weather to be calm otherwise the yelling and the stress would be hell. It didn’t help that the rest of my nuclear family loved to play in the waves - I’m talking open ocean here sometimes. I love the open ocean, but never ask me to step foot in it...there were incidents where I was dragged in screaming.

Respect other people’s fears. Fears are a real thing. They may look stupid to you, but terror is terror and no less crippling just because the subject of the fear seems trivial.

::climbs off soapbox:: Sorry, got a little serious there, oops :D It be a bugbear of mine, me thinks.

Anyways, here be some Gordon ::hugs::

-o-o-o-

“Shut up, Alan.”

Gordon sat in his co-pilot’s seat, arms crossed over his chest not pouting. No, not pouting at all.

Annoying younger brothers.

Okay, he only had one, but sometimes he was the worst.

“I’m just trying to understand, Gords. What exactly scares you?”

“I’m not scared.”

“You squealed like a girl.” His older brother’s voice was much deeper than Alan’s and took Gordon a little by surprise.

“Shut up, Virgil.” Big brothers could be just as annoying.

The engineer shrugged a little. “Hey, just trying to help here.”

Gordon grunted at him. “I’m not scared.” No, he wasn’t.

He was terrified.

“I get scared.” Alan was being that blatantly honest, cute younger brother now. His blue eyes were ever so earnest. “There is nothing wrong with being scared.”

“I’m not scared!”

Virgil opened his mouth again and Gordon wished he had a pair of rolled up socks he could shove between his brother’s teeth. “Alan’s right. There is no shame in having a little fear. It’s healthy.”

This wasn’t healthy. This was stupid.

Gordon stared out the front windows of Thunderbird Two and tried to pretend his brothers didn’t exist.

He had squealed like a girl. He hadn’t known what was in the box, though really, he should have expected it.

Stupid Australia with its stupid wildlife. They were supposed to save people, not pets.

But the kid had been screaming for his little Ernie and Edna. There had been enough time and Alan had darted back into the apartment to grab the pets. The fact Alan had had to hurriedly hand the box to Gordon in order to secure the pod was incidental.

Gordon didn’t know what was in the box and Alan didn’t know Gordon had a problem.

Docking with Two, they clambered out to check on the rescuees they had transferred up to Virgil. Gordon’s foot caught on one of the pod assembly rails just as Two took a nasty gust of wind to one side and shifted just a little.

A yelp and the aquanaut, arms full of box went down.

Unable to catch himself properly, and desperately trying to protect the box because he knew there was a life form in there, he landed hard.

The box slipped from his grip.

It teetered and fell on its side.

And Gordon came face to face with a pair of large lizards.

Okay, so he had screamed like a girl. But if Virgil had said that in front of Kayo, he would have been flipped onto the floor and then made to squeal himself, baritone or no. Their sister was not one for stereotypes.

At all.

Now Gordon loved all creatures…well, most. There were certain humans that he felt quite strongly the universe could do without, but that was beside the point. Gordon loved mother nature and all her weird and wonderful creations.

But since his encounter with the giant bearded dragons while rescuing Buddy and Ellie, his mind had taken the concept and run with it.

There had been nightmares.

Many nightmares.

And lizards had become a thing.

Not a thing that he encountered very often.

But a thing.

And to be confronted by two rather large and scalies unexpectedly…

Well, he had reacted.

Fight or flight had become flight and he had removed himself from their presence very abruptly and, according to Alan, quite comically.

Annoying younger brothers.

The kid rescuee had run over, gathered up his pets and hugged and petted and loved all over them, all while Gordon’s skin tried to crawl into his hair.

Ugh.

Ultimately, Gordon had made it out of the module and the rescuees had since been transported to a safe location.

They were now on their way home…to no doubt another round of ‘ridicule the Fish because he’s a scaredy cat’.

He found himself staring at the dash as Virgil brought the huge cargo plane in to land on her runway.

Nothing was said as they taxied into the hangar, Two pivoting ever so gracefully.

Virgil’s hands danced smoothly over the controls and her engines whined down to silence, her airframe settling and creaking as she lost heat.

No one moved.

“Gordon?” Virgil’s voice was soft.

“What?” He didn’t look at his brother. Still not pouting.

“We’ll keep this confidential. Right, Alan?”

Gordon looked up in surprise to find his little brother nodding vehemently.

“Really?” C’mon, with such an opportunity for brotherly humiliation? The squeal was probably recorded for all to see. He frowned. Blackmail. They wanted it for blackmail.

But to Gordon’s astonishment, Virgil poked at the dash and brought up the recording. The aquanaut flinched as he saw his reaction on film. At least Alan was honest. If it hadn’t been himself, it would have been absolutely hilarious.

As it was, it just made him feel ashamed with the urge to curl up and die.

Virgil’s fingers darted over the recording, marking key frames. “Computer delete selected recording.”

A confirmation window came up and Virgil didn’t hesitate, his fingers deleting the incriminating scene.

Gordon’s eyes widened. Scott and John would kill him if they found out. Mission recording was a protection for all of them and deleting was blasphemy. Even Gordon had never been daring enough to mess with mission documentation before.

“But Scott…what about Brains?” Hell, John could be staring over their shoulders right now.

Virgil half smiled at him. “You let me worry about that. You just promise me that if want to talk, you come to me.”

“Or me.” Alan piped up behind them.

Gordon opened his mouth, but nothing came out. He stared at his older brother and the honesty in those eyes. A glance at Alan and he found the same.

His shoulders dropped. “It’s so stupid.”

“No fear is stupid, Gordon. It is still fear and needs to be respected. Fear is never a laughing matter.”

Gordon didn’t miss Virgil’s eyes darting in Alan’s direction as if needing to press the point. Alan frowned back at him.

But then the moment was gone and Virgil was going through post-flight, Alan was climbing out of his seat complaining that his uniform stunk – it did, Gordon could smell it from here, but none of them could talk, they all stunk.

But as his two brothers did their thing, Gordon found a swell of fondness rising in his belly. It washed away the grump and the pout.

And he found himself smiling a little shyly.

“Thanks, guys.”

Virgil returned his smile. Alan threw him a smirk before darting to the hatch and lowering himself down.

Okay, they were annoying, but they were his brothers and that was the part that counted.

-o-o-o-

[tae-cup]

Welcome To Wonderland | JHS Oneshot

Inspired by: Anson Seabra’s “Welcome to Wonderland”

Pairing: Jung Hoseok x Reader

Summary: You’ve spent the last five years down the rabbit hole, lost in his eyes, now, you only see him in your dreams. 

Warnings: N/A, ANGST, but also lots of fluff!

Word Count: 6.3k (honestly the most I’ve written, I don’t know how or why this got so long).

A/N: Should I make this a series??? I’m really tempted. stay safe, wash your hands, and please help me gain motivation to do life. 

Sneak Peak: “We all have to grow up some day, Hoseok. You can join me or stay here in your cruel little fantasy.”

Other: Masterlist

Dancing through a dream Underneath the stars Laughing 'til the morning comes Everyone that leaves has a heavy heart Oh, Wonderland I love 

“She’s criminally insane.” The doctor spoke to your mother, tapping her pen against the clipboard as if you couldn’t hear her. They stood outside the small room’s door, though it felt more like a jail cell. Your mother spoke in a hushed whisper, as if she didn’t want to admit that her perfect daughter was going insane. It wasn’t even your fault! 

“What do you mean?” Your mother’s voice was incredulous. 

“She’ll be here until she’s deemed stable.” You could almost hear the smile on the cruel doctor’s face. “Don’t worry, we’ll get those silly little illusions out of her head soon enough.” 

You cringed, hands going to your head. You shut your eyes, shaking your head violently. No, no, no, I don’t want you to take him away from me. Memories of the handsome Mad Hatter filled your mind. He would tip his hat and wink, smiling his signature smile. There was a hint of madness in his eyes, but it was always your kind of madness. 

Five years. They said you were gone for five hours. Five years, you were gone five years. Your insistence had them worried, but your screams as they pulled you away from the woods were what brought you to the institution for the criminally insane.

The light seemed so harsh compared to the magical land of wonderland. The sunlight beat you down in the pure white room, reflecting off every surface and making your eyes hurt. You shifted on the hard bed, throwing your forearm over your eyes in an attempt to escape your fate. 

You heard your mother’s heels clacking away farther down the hall. There was a rapping at the door. When you didn’t respond, the door slowly opened. The doctor filed into the room along with two other nurses. One nurse held a metal tray with a small plastic cup and a glass of water. The other had a needle filled with clear liquid. The doctor had a clipboard, her lips were pressed into a thin line, a displeased look on your face. You scrambled away, pulling your legs to your chest as you pushed yourself into the farthest corner of the bed. 

“Y/N.” The doctor dropped the kind tone she had with your mother. Her words were cold, calculating. “You have been diagnosed as criminally insane, thus, I will need to run some tests. These drugs are to help you sleep without those little...dreams of yours.” 

“NO!” You cried out, rocking back and forth slowly. “I don’t want them to go away, please.” 

The doctor sighed, tapping her clipboard with her pen. She stepped aside, gesturing to the other nurses. The one with the tray had blonde hair and a stern expression. The other nurse may have the needle, but you were more terrified of the one with the tray. Her face mimicked the queen of hearts in ways you never wanted to see again. The nurse with the needle had a warm smile, just like the cheshire cat. Subtly unsettling, but not entirely creepy. 

“Honey, these will help you sleep.” The blonde explained, a lack of emotion to her voice. It was unnerving. 

“And what’s that?” You shakily pointed to the needle. 

“Just a little something to take away the dreams.”

You tensed immediately. 

“I’m not taking that.” You said quickly, your eyes darted between the nurses and doctor. “I’ll take the pills, but I refuse the injection.” 

The doctor stared at you blankly. She had never had a patient who flat out refused medication and in such a firm way. This girl would look to be absolutely sane if it weren’t for those hallucinations. The woman finally conceded, dipping her head and shooing the cheshire cat nurse out of the room. You decided to refer to her as Cheshire in honor of your unlikely friend. 

 The other one would be referred to as Queenie in regards to the mad queen who gave you hell in wonderland, but was ultimately a force of good. You found that you missed even her, that fiery devil. 

You swallowed the two pills and then curled back up in your corner. Your hands went over your heart, frowning at the dull ache in your chest. 

~Welcome to Wonderland ~Look where you're at ~Maddest of hatters ~The Cheshire Cat ~Magical cabins and lovely white rabbits with clocks

5 years ago

“Mr. puffles?” You called out to the stubborn cat, blue dress swishing behind you. You bent down, not caring about the dirt as you searched the bushes. There was a quiet meow that sent you farther into the woods, away from the brilliant manor. There was a soft melody, a ringing in your ears. It was enticing, it called to you. 

You found yourself wandering deeper into the woods. You felt this pull, a tug, a push, to venture farther into the darkness. The sun was beginning to set. While usually you would feel anxious to be out in the woods alone as it got dark, you found yourself drawn in more. You felt perfectly safe like nothing would harm you. It was a silly notion, but you were known to follow your impulses. 

There was a rustle in the bushes and you saw the shadow of a cat’s tail before it slipped away. 

“Mr. Puffles?” You called again. The smallest meow came from your left. You raced after it, grasping the flowing ends of your dress in your hands. This was a hunt and you refused to trip unnecessarily. 

“Ugh! You tricky little fur demon.” You cursed, pursing your lips. As the woods fell silent, you turned in a half circle, realizing how dark it had gotten. Then you realized that the woods were massive and you could no longer see any feasible path. You turned in circles, chuckle madly to yourself. This must be some cruel trick; to lure you out on your curiosity and then leave you stranded. Somehow, you didn’t feel scared in the slightest. 

There was another rustle, but then it was followed by several others. You trekked slowly after the noises, careful of your flats that were your only footwear. 

“Hello?” You whispered. The noise still echoed loudly against the peaceful forest. You didn’t feel out of place in these woods. 

“Hello.” Your voice echoed, but it sounded more masculine. 

“Who are you?” You felt the hairs on the back of your neck raise. 

“Who are-” The voice said back, far away and distant. Then you heard the crackle of leaves behind you. You turned to see a tall man step out from behind a tree. “-you?” He said clearly. 

In his eyes you could only see darkness and perhaps something else. His hair was draped over one side of his face, the rest covered by a red velvet top hat. His suit jacket was also red velvet and his pants were a dark black. 

“Where did you come from? How did you get over there?” You cried, scrambling away from the intimidating man. He had a wide smile on his face and you couldn’t help thinking he looked extremely handsome. 

“Magic.” He splayed his white gloved fingers. There was a spark of mischief in his eyes. You wanted to step closer, examine him, but you stayed where you were. 

“What’s your name?” You bit your lip, looking around at your surroundings as the forest slowly gave away to the darkness. 

“Now, now, sweet rabbit, you’ll find out soon enough. First tell me yours.” 

“I’m-” 

You were cut off from speaking to the mysterious man when a voice called your name. You whipped around, eyes searching the forest. You were sure no one had followed you in or even seen you leave the manor. Your eyes narrowed suspiciously. There wasn’t something right about that voice, though you clearly could place it as your mother’s. Your mother would never dirty her dress to come out looking for you. 

“Do you know who that is?” The man tilted his head, a frown adorning his face. He looked puzzled, but there was something akin to fear that seemed to shake his body. He looked on the fritz, maybe a little crazy. My kind of crazy. You thought pleasantly to yourself. 

“No, well, yes.” You murmured. This man made you feel safe, whatever was out there, did not. Yes, he had just magically appeared, but once again, you felt that tug. You gave in this time, more scared of whatever was calling your name behind you. Something that isn’t your mother. You stepped closer, cringing as you heard the loud crack of twigs beneath your feet. The man looked amused at your attempts to stay quiet, though he eyed the treeline warily. 

“What do you mean, no and yes?” He raised an eyebrow. 

You stepped close enough that you were less than an arms reach away. Thoughts of your cat subsided and even thoughts of that thing acting as your mother drifted away. His eyes were like deep whirlpools of emotion with the glint of madness, insanity. You felt your breath taken away as you peered into his eyes. You could tell he was experiencing the same thing because he sharply inhaled. 

“I mean, mystery man,” You said quietly, suddenly looking behind you, sensing something watching, no, stalking, you. You gently grasped his sleeve and he automatically moved to let you in closer. He felt this inexplicable urge to protect you, to touch you. He had attraction to other people before, but never this intensely. “That thing, out there, may sound like my mother, but,” You gnawed at your bottom lip. “It is not my mother.”

He took in a deep breath. Those damn parasites always crawled through these woods. The man nodded, velvet hat shifting on top of his black hair. 

“Dream catchers.” He murmured, then he cursed as he saw a movement. He turned to you, grasping your hands tightly. He leaned in, breath fanning across your face. “Love, you and I need to run.”

Your heart beat quickened. “Run? Run where?” You whispered softly, already feeling adrenaline pumping through your veins as the crackling in the woods came closer. 

“Would you like to go on an adventure, rabbit?” He looked at you with such fondness that you found yourself nodding before you could think. “Good.” 

Then there was a loud howl a little ways away. The man’s eyes widened, intertwining your hands and taking off in the other direction. You held back a squeal as he dragged you along. Your legs pumped to exhaustion as you tried your best to keep up with his long legs. You studied him, taking your mind off the creature’s huffing behind you and the lungs struggling for breath inside you. 

The man had handsome features, truly beautiful. A sloped nose, high cheek bones, cupid’s bow shaped lips. His back is strong, legs long, body slim. Absolutely enchanting. You fought the blush creeping up your face. Now is not the time. 

“What’s-What’s your name.” You huffed, struggling for air. He only then seemed to notice your plight. He looked behind you before slowing down to a walk. He took a turn, ducking behind a rock. Then you noticed you were surrounded by a bunch of random stones all surrounding a hole in the ground. You craned your neck, seeing a never ending pit of darkness. The moonlight illuminated only a few feet inside and the dark seemed to go on and on. 

He sharply inhaled, tugging you to his chest, wrapping his arms tightly around you, trying to shrink your two figures behind the rock. There was a scampering sound and you hoped your heart wasn’t beating as loud as you thought it was. Blood rushed through your ears, chest rising and falling. You tried to calm your breathing. He glanced down at you worriedly as you clamped your hand over your mouth. The steps stopped and you heard a sniffing sound. After a few tense moments, it disappeared howling and scampering deeper into the forest. 

You let out a shaky breath and the man frowned at you. 

“Are you alright?” He gripped your shoulders tightly. 

“I’m...I’m okay.” Your voice was far too timid to properly convince him and you knew it. You cleared your throat. “What’s your name?” You asked firmly. 

“Hoseok.” The man, Hoseok, smiled widely. He didn’t seem out of breath whatsoever and you fought to keep from whining. It was so unfair that he was beautiful and fit. He was taller than you, your eye level coming up to his nose. 

“I’m Y/N.” You breathed, fingers curling in and out. “How did you find me? Why am I here?” 

“There hasn’t been a true visitor to these woods in years.” He chuckled. “And I brought you here, to the edge of your world and the start of mine,” He gestured to the hole in the ground. “Because you’re like me. You don’t belong in the above world and you haven’t for a long time.” 

You took a step back. He smiled painfully at you. 

“God, you’re here to murder me aren’t you?”

“If I wanted to murder you, I would have left you to the dream catchers and not saved you.” 

“Oh wow, that’s re-ensuring.” You grumbled. He chuckled at that. Hoseok then grasped your hands. 

“You said you wanted to go on an adventure. Join me, where you belong.” His voice was hushed, his words almost intimate. 

“And where do I belong?” 

“With me.” Then he cleared his throat when you flushed a bright red. “In wonderland.” He amended. 

“You’re insane.” 

“Only the best kind.” He started tugging you towards the hole. “I see it in your eyes too. Come.” His words were like a command. 

It wasn’t like you had anything to go back to. Your father wanted you to get married, your mother was a controlling witch. Your siblings were such good children, always following the rules and accomplishing great things. 

“Okay.” You relented. What harm could there be in a little fun? You bent and tied your dress ends around your legs to create some weird pants-dress-combo. 

He flashed you a winning smile. 

“Follow my lead.” He tipped his hat before stretching his arms and jumping backwards into the hole. You shrieked, scrambling to look over the edge. He laughed, then he disappeared, the scream cutting off abruptly. 

“Hoseok?!” You called, your voice bouncing off the walls of the hole. Silence. The wind whistled in your ears. You found yourself backing away from the hole, your fear taking over. Then you heard the low growl of something behind you. The dream catchers. You looked between the beast before you and the hole behind you. Only one held certain death. “I can’t believe I’m doing this.” 

You took a few steps back and then leapt into the hole, your screams ripped away by the wind rushing past your ears. Suddenly the wind stopped and you felt yourself floating. Down down down to the ground like a soft caress. 

“Y/N, I got you.” 

You recognized that voice, drifting into the arms of someone waiting. The person is warm, the person is nice, the person is safe. Your eyes flew open. 

“Hoseok!” You cried, tears slipping out at the familiar face. You flung your arms around his neck and he stiffened suddenly before awkwardly patting your back. 

“Are you alright? You were gone for a while.” He set you down, now back to your usual weight. “We were scared you weren’t jumping.”

“It was only a few seconds.” You huffed, tilting your head in confusion. “And what do you mean we?” 

You stepped back and he chuckled, moving aside. “Welcome to the family, Y/N.” 

Five sets of eyes were on you. Five smiles widened at your sight. And five new people became your family. Another lingered in the background, white armor shining.

~Welcome to Wonderland ~Where should we go? ~There's a tea party along down the road ~Make an appearance and maybe they'll sing us a song 

Four Years Ago

“Hoseok!” You shouted, running around the house, throwing open any cupboards you saw. 

“What?” The mad hatter’s voice called from outside. You didn’t respond, furiously searching for the tea set you wanted to use for today’s daily tea party. You heard a huff of annoyance and a sly smile made its way onto your face. 

“What.” The voice was closer and you already knew he was standing in the doorway, probably leaning in the door frame with a wicked smile. 

“Did you see that tea set, the one with the cherry blossoms on them?” You said innocently. You turned around and, as always, he took your breath away. 

“Yeah, they’re over here.” He reached over you. If he noticed you gawking, he didn’t mention it. He was wearing that red velvet suit that he had been wearing when you first met him. It was still by far his most dashing look. You had seen him in every color of the rainbow, but red always suited him so well. He took down the set and placed it on a tray. You tried to take it from him, but he dodged easily. 

You gave a little shout, annoyed at his foolishness. “Hoseok! Just. Let. Me-” 

You struggled to grab the tray back, but he simply turned the other direction, marching out of the kitchen. He smiled and you pouted, following him sullenly. 

“Be patient, my little rabbit.” He set down the tray and you both went about setting out the cups and saucers. You had been living with Hoseok the past year and things had gone better than okay. From smoking with the caterpillar to escaping the rage of the Red Queen, you had your handful of adventures. You made an effort not to mention the Red Queen however. 

Hoseok always went cold, his gaze hardening, whenever you brought up his dear friend. 

“He wasn’t always this way, you know?” He looked away sadly. “Maybe he would have even come for tea if he could gain the sanity.” 

“What happened to him?”

Hoseok turned to you, thinking for a moment. “You know how things makes sense to you and I down here?”

You nodded. 

“Well, he wasn’t...he wasn’t meant to be down here. His truth, is up there.” He pointed to the ceiling, to your old world. “He accidentally fell in as a teenager and Wonderland doesn’t treat those from your world kindly. He’s been losing sanity for a while.” He sighed. “I’m surprised he held on for so long.” 

“So he’ll return to normal if he goes back to my world?”

“That’s the theory. We’ve tried to convince him, but he was too far gone, screaming about ‘off with their heads!’ and painting roses red. Then he shunned us, saying if we ever came back to dethrone him, he’d have our heads.” He shook his head sadly. “What’s heartbreaking is that he was completely serious. If you looked him in the eye, you could see he’d gone completely insane.”

Wonderland was a scary place, but the way it worked made sense to you. You glanced anxiously at the clock that was always set three hours ahead. It was almost time for your guests to arrive. 

Yoongi, the Cheshire cat always arrived early in comparison to the Caterpillar known as Jin. Then the others would file in. Jungkook, the white rabbit, was always off about being late, despite being perfectly on time. Then Namjoon, the march hare would try his best to calm down the youngest. Jimin, the ever divine white queen, would arrive exactly on the dot. The usual commotion occured. Yoongi was grinning devilishly at Jungkook, fanning the fire of chaos. Jungkook was bouncing off the walls with energy, stammering about being late. Namjoon pressed a hand to Jungkook’s shoulder to calm him down and started giving a stern talking to to Yoongi. Jin hung back, either high or tired, one or the other. You chuckled at the madness, the ruckus feeling like home. 

You frowned at the clock. Your special guest should arrive any minute and you didn’t want to overwhelm him. It was a stupid idea, really, but nonetheless, he had replied ‘yes’. You ushered the boys into the backyard. They all settled into their usual spots. Hoseok at the head, your seat reserved to his right, Yoongi appearing in the spot to his left. Next to Yoongi, Jimin took his place and Jin sluggishly sat next to your empty spot. Usually, you would also sit, but you had more important matters to attend to. You knew that if Hoseok, or any of the others for that matter, had known of your plan, they would have stopped you. 

Namjoon took a place next to Jungkook beside Jin. 

“Rabbit?” Hoseok looked at you expectantly. It was a Wonderland rule that you can’t start the tea party until all members have sat. “The tea’s getting cold, what’s wrong?” 

You shifted uncomfortably. Should you tell them? You glanced behind you. Through the sliding glass doors you could see a figure walking to the door. The steps were slow and purposeful and you knew who it was. Your guest. You took a deep breath. 

“Sorry, hatty,” You mumbled. “But I have another guest.” 

“Another-” Jin started, suddenly pulled from his quiet state. 

“-Guest?” Jimin finished, a pretty smile on his face. 

The boys exchanged a look. Jungkook had stopped moving around restlessly and Jimin’s smile seemed forced. Even Hoseok looked perplexed. 

“Who is it, dear?” Hoseok finally asked. There was a loud knock on the door. You sheepishly rubbed your neck. 

“Ah! They’re here.” You rushed to the front door, slamming open the glass sliding doors harshly. 

You opened the door. 

The Red Queen stepped into your living room. 

Some might wonder why you called him the Red Queen. You could never explain why, it just made sense. That was Wonderland logic, after all. 

“Taehyung.” You dipped your head a little. You had actually met him before he went completely insane, just once. Now that he was standing in front of you, he didn’t seem insane at all. He seemed normal, in fact, maybe a little tired. He flashed you a small smile. 

“Thank you for inviting me, Y/N. It’s quite the honor.” His voice was deep and soothing. 

“They might be a little surprised, I didn’t tell them you’d come.” You and him had met once before. That’s when he was still sane. 

“You seem to be far from home.” A smug voice said behind you. You turned so fast you almost sprained your ankle. You studied the tall man in front of you, his lips pressed together to form a tight smile. Maybe even then, he was struggling with sanity. “What brings you to Wonderland? You certainly aren’t from around here.” 

You smiled, feeling at ease around him. 

“I’m from the other world, technically, but Wonderland is my home now.” You leaned against the railing, gazing up at the stars. The night sky was always fascinating in Wonderland; a plethora of colors painting a dark canvas. 

“Interesting.” He murmured, taking a place beside you. “People here refer to me as the Red Queen, but you can call me Taehyung.” He shifted to look at you and you tore your eyes away from the beautiful sky to view a beautiful man. 

“The Red Queen, hm?” You tilted your head a little. You remembered Hoseok’s warning. To stay away, he’s unstable, with the ability to be more insane than any other Wonderlandian. However, as you stood next to him, he didn’t seem threatening in the slightest. “I like Taehyung better.” 

He lets out a laughed, propping his elbow up on the railing and tracing the carvings with his finger. “You sound just like Hoseok.”

You raised an eyebrow. “Well, I live with Hoseok so I wouldn’t be surprised.” 

His eyes widened slightly. “So you’re the girl he won’t shut up about.” He laughed, scratching the back of his head. “If he’s told you anything about my sanity, he’s right.” 

You were taken aback. “What?”

“Yeah, it’s true.” He sighed, turning his attention to the sky. “Listen, you need to help me, if I’m ever past the point of sanity.” 

You nodded slowly at his words, wondering why he was seeking your help, but you knew you would do everything in your power to help him if he so needed it. 

Maybe it was already happening? To him, there were more colors than there actually were. To him, all the white roses were mocking him and needed to be painted red. To him, people looked better without their heads. 

There was an audible scraping of metal chairs through grass. Hoseok immediately went to you, tugging you away from Taehyung. 

“What do you think you’re doing?” He hissed in your ear. 

“Mending a bond that needs to be mended.” You shrugged. “Maybe you could convince him to go back.” 

Hoseok sighed, dropping your wrist. The others glanced around. Jungkook was shaking. 

“Y/N. You need to be more carefully. I thought I already went over how he won’t listen, it’s too late for him.” 

“I’ll go back.” 

Your hushed whispers stopped instantly. Taehyung shifted uncomfortably, smoothing his casual clothes down absentmindedly. 

“It’s my time.” Taehyung stepped forward. “But please let me have tea with you first.” 

“Hey! It was an accident!” Jimin cried, sending the table into hysterics. Taehyung had his signature boxy smile on and Hoseok felt his heart clench. It had been so long since they’d seen that. Still, you could tell something was different about the younger boy. He had this hollow sound to his laugh and some of his smiles seemed forced. 

“Taehyung.” You interrupted the conversation, cringing at how quickly the mood changed. No one had dared interact directly with him, or when they did, they would refer to him as ‘Queenie’. 

“Yeah?” His voice was soft. 

“Is something wrong?” 

There was a long pause. Then he let out a shaky breath and the table stalled, waiting for him to start. 

“Of course.” He mumbled. “I’m leaving behind my family.” His head sunk low. 

You frowned, heart beating out for him. You understood his feelings. You felt your heart cracking at the mere thought of leaving Hoseok and the others. You gently reached across the table, and it was a bit of a stretch, and intertwined your fingers. 

“I know, Tae, but this isn’t where you belong. You belong up there.” You looked up towards the sky. “It tears us apart to see you doing this to yourelf, please.” You whispered. 

He looked away, ashamed. “I’m fighting everyday. Is it so wrong to just want to be with you guys?”

“We belong to different worlds, Tae.” Hoseok stood and walked over, crouching beside the boy. “It’s time to go home.” 

Taehyung began sobbing, breaking down the facade of the immortal queen and Hoseok held him, wrapping him into a tight hug. You felt yourself coming undone as well, tears streaming down your face. No one could replace him, there would always be a hole. 

“I love you guys.” He whimpered. Then a bright light overtook your vision and he was gone. 

You were stunned, confusion twisting your features, your nose red and eyes puffy. 

“There is no way to leave wonderland, you have to truly be ready to let it go. That’s why I said it was too late for him.” Hoseok sighed, trying to ignore the lump in his throat. He was going to miss that kid. Then he went over to you and kissed your forehead. “Don’t cry, love, he’s where he belongs now.”

Three Years Ago

“How’d you sleep?” His voice was muffled from where his face was pressed into your back. 

“Good.” You croaked, having just woken up. You turned to face him. “But I slept even better with you.” 

Hoseok immediately reddened, burying his face into your neck. “Rabbit, you can’t do this to me, I just woke up.” He chuckled, the vibrations against your neck making you hum. 

It was a lazy morning. In Wonderland, Hoseok’s job was to make sure the daily tea parties were going smoothly, it was his business. The earliest client he had was supposed to be at 10 A.M. 

You glanced at the cuckoo clock on the wall, waiting for it’s ear piercing screech that notified you that it was time to get a move on. five minutes. 

You began to move, preparing yourself for the loss of his warmth. He groaned. 

“Wait.” He slurred, still drowsy. 

“Hatty, love, you need to get up in five minutes.” You brushed your hands through his hair. 

“I still have five minutes.” You felt him frown against your skin. With a chuckle you pull him away and caress his cheek with your hand. 

“I love you, you know that?” You kissed his nose. He laughed a little, moving to look you better in the eye. 

“I love you too, my little rabbit.” 

It was mornings like these that made you want to stay in Wonderland forever. Mornings like these made you wish to be nowhere else but in his arms. It was mornings like these that made Hoseok want to kiss you silly. He wanted to keep you by his side forever. You belonged here, with him. He didn’t know what he would do with himself if you left him, if anything happened to you. To put it simply, he was helplessly in love with you, and so were you with him. 

Lost in each other’s gaze, the soft morning sun shining through the curtains, you resisted the urge to kiss him again. You leaned in, he leaned in. You shut your eyes, he shut his. Then the cuckoo clock screeched its way through the quiet. 

With a groan, he rolled onto his back and you giggled. He sighed loudly. “Can’t we just get a new clock? It sounds like someone’s being murdered every morning.” He shivered and stood, the sheets shifting. You missed the warmth already. 

One Year Ago

“I don’t understand.” His voice was hollow. “Where are you going?”

You were walking down the dirt path looking up at the sky, searching for a fissure, a seam, any sign of the world above. 

“Hoseok.” You turned on your heel, almost bumping into his chest when he pulled to a sudden halt. “How did you find me? You said that you couldn’t leave unless you truly wanted to and even then if you tried to come back, you’d get lost, unable to come back.”

His smile was pained, hand reaching out to brush your cheek, but you took a step back. 

“Magic.” He murmured weakly. 

“Oh stop with your stupid magic.” You spat. Over the past two years things had changed drastically. A seed of doubt had been planted a year ago and now it had blossomed. “You’re a grown man, are you not?” 

“Yes.” His expression was blank and that was so much worse than anger or sadness. You crossed your arms. 

“I want to go back.”

His face dropped. “No, no, no. Y/N.” His voice shook. “Come on, let’s talk about this. You belong here, you’ll go insane, like Taehyung, if you go back now.”  He reached out, grasping your wrists before you could pull away. 

“Hoseok, how long have you been lying to me? Did you know?” 

“Know?” 

“This place is dying because of me. I don’t belong here, you used your ‘magic’ to trick me into feeling safe! Like a total creep!” You were in hysterics. “I’m going insane.”

“Join the club, rabbit.” His lips quirked into a small smile, but you could tell it was forced. “And I swear I didn’t do anything, who told you this?” 

“That doesn’t matter!” It was that damn white knight. “If you didn’t do anything, and if I belong here, why the hell do I feel like I’m going fucking insane!” You shouted, tugging at your hair. 

“That’s just a general side effect of Wonderland.” He stepped forward, you stepped back. It was like a cruel dance. 

“We all have to grow up some day, Hoseok. You can join me or stay here in your cruel little fantasy.” You said bitterly. 

You wanted to cry. This isn’t how you wanted it to end. You wanted to slip out while he was asleep, leaving him with good memories. He woke up when you accidentally bumped into the table in the dining room. You didn’t belong here, not anymore. The man you loved was standing here begging you to stay, but your gut was screaming at you to go. Something had changed in Wonderland and you were blaming it on yourself. The white knight had whispered dirty secrets and cruel words while Hoseok was unaware.

“I’m sorry.” You choked out. Then you saw light starting to take your body away. “Wait! Wait no! I’ve changed my mind!” You cried out, trying to stop the slow burn. Hoseok’s eyes widened. 

“No..No, this shouldn’t be able to happen. Wonderland should listen to your cries.” He rushed to you as you sank to the floor, begging yourself to stay in Wonderland, to stay with him. He held you as your body turned to golden dust. He stayed there, knowing this was the prophecy. This was what was supposed to happen, but he didn’t know it would be so soon. 

“Why is my time up, why is my time over with you?” He sobbed out in anguish. 

“You can see her again.” 

He stood, looking around for that stupid white knight. 

“You can bring her back, she can be with you. You just need to sacrifice something, something precious.” 

He watched the shining white armor appear out of thin air. Hoseok narrowed his eyes, swiping at the tears rolling down his face. 

“How?”

Present

His eyes were like galaxies. His smile is as bright as the day. His face is fading from memory. The pills washing away the details. Cured. You’re almost cured.

You opened your eyes. Cold light filtered through the tall and slim window in your room. It reminded you of a jail cell. You were propped against the door as the night before came reeling back to you. You had clawed and screamed at the door, begging not to be drugged up again. 

You don’t understand! I want to see him again, let me have these memories! You sobbed. 

The nurses smiled sweetly, like a parent listening to their child ramble on. 

You surveyed the claw marks on the door, almost proud of your work. Then you stood sluggishly. Every day you found less and less motivation to get up and move. You could barely remember his name. 

Then you saw movement out of the corner of your eye. You went to the window and peered out. There was someone out there, waving frantically. You tilted your head. He looked familiar, but you weren’t sure if you should trust him. 

“Y/N!” How does he know your name?

You wanted to turn back around and go to sleep, slipping into the serenity of your memories, trying desperately to make those touches real again. You started to turn away and the man started shouting louder. When you turned back around, he was gone. Great, now you were actually going insane. 

The door clicked open and you didn’t turn around. 

“Hurry up and just inject that stuff in me already.” You sighed, utterly defeated. 

“I’m not here to stick any needles in you.” 

Your eyes widened, turning around at the familiar voice. You just couldn’t put your finger on it. Who was he? 

“Who are you?!” You cried, scrambling across the room. The man looked oddly hurt. 

“See, this is why you’re not meant to be here. It’s making your mind fuzzy. I’m Taehyung, also known as the Red Queen.” 

What? 

“Why are you a queen when you’re a guy?” You tilted your head. 

“Oh, Rabbit, what did they do to you?” He sighed. “This used to make sense to you.” He grasped your arm. “Please, there’s someone here to see you.” 

“Who?” You narrowed your eyes. 

“Why don’t you just follow me?” He had this spark of mischief in his eyes and you couldn’t say no. 

Down the stairs, sneak around the corner, avoid the guards. Easy. Soon enough, you’re outside, the short gates that circle the gardens being the only thing separating you from freedom. 

“Taehyung?” You suddenly remembered. The boy seemed overjoyed and he nodded excitedly. 

“Yup! That’s me!” He glanced back at the building. “They took me there too. There’s something about that building...anyway!” 

He hurried ahead. “Wait here.” He said, jumping over the fence and running to the treeline. Then you saw him. 

As he stepped out, your breath caught in your throat, a strangled cry leaving. He was a beautiful as the day you left him, did he not age? He was possibly even more handsome. His eyes lit up when they saw you and you could see his glistening eyes. 

“Hoseok!” You flung out your arms and he ran to them. You sat down, divided by the tiny fence as he embraced you, tears slipping out. 

“I thought I lost you, oh god.” He managed to choke out, tears staining your white gown. 

“Your hat.” You pulled away, viewing his empty head. You had never seen him without it on except in bed. “What happened to it?”

He shot you a pained expression before shrugging nonchalantly. “Not sure.” 

You brushed his odd answer aside, too happy to see him again. Everything was flooding back to you, every touch, every whisper. 

“But how,” You caressed his face in your hands, fingers pushing back any stray hairs. “How did you get here?”

He pulled away, smirking and splaying his fingers like he did when you first met him. 

“Magic.” 

If this was a dream,

then at least I’ve got

memories for when morning comes.

A/N p.2: Yes a series? Yes? No? Maybe so? Let me know! Comments and feedback really help motivate me to continue publishing stories for all you lovely people <3!

[starshine583]

Le Paon Part 8

(Hey, guys! Here’s another chapter of the Le Paon AU. I’m going to try to update this every two weeks now- since weekly updates were a mess for me. Please tell me what you think, and if you want to keep reading!)

Part 1 / Part 7 / Part 9

“‘Change tactics’? What do you mean?” Felix asked, sparing Nathalie a glance. She seemed to be in a bitter mood that evening, more so than usual. 

“Just that.” Gabriel said, regaining his attention. “Ladybug is too cunning to challenge her head on. We must come up with another strategy. One that under-goes her suspicions and exploits her weaknesses.”

Felix frowned. Does Ladybug even have a weakness?

“What do you suggest?”

His Father smiled, and he resisted the urge to flinch. 

“I’m glad you asked.” Gabriel all but purred. “Ladybug, should she activate her Lucky Charm, has a five minute time span before she detransforms. Normally she runs off to hide before that happens, but if you were to follow her long enough..”

“I could discover her identity.” Felix finished.

“Exactly. Knowing Ladybug’s identity would surely give us the advantage.” 

Felix nodded. They could practically waltz into Ladybug’s house and take her miraculous if they knew who she was, and once Ladybug was defeated, Chat Noir wouldn’t be far behind. 

Speaking of the Alley Cat..

“How do we get past Chat Noir? I imagine he won’t just let me run off after Ladybug.” He questioned.

Gabriel hummed. “You’ll just have to be subtle, then, won’t you?” 

Felix held back a scoff. That wasn’t the answer he was looking for. Obviously, Father hadn’t thought through this plan completely. 

Nevertheless, Chat Noir would merely act as a bump in the road. He was certain he could find a way around that furball.

“Yes, sir.” Felix said. “I’ll find out her identity as soon as I can.” 

“The sooner the better.” Gabriel remarked, before gesturing for him to leave.

Felix moved to exit the room, but Gabriel spoke again as he opened the door. Something about his tone sent a chill through Felix’s bones, and whether the words were meant to be supportive or not, Felix found himself speed-walking to his room after the door closed.

“I know you won’t disappoint me.” 

~~~~~~

Marinette held her breath, trying to keep steady. Still, the needle trembled between her fingers. She tisked in annoyance. One would think that keeping their hands steady during sowing would get easier after years of practice.

Easy.. She told herself, her tongue slowly slipping past her lips as she tried to concentrate. Just a bit more to the left and-

“Ugh!” 

Marinette flinched, causing the needle to poke through the fabric and prick her finger. She hissed, pulling the needle away from her dress and sticking her injured finger into her mouth. 

“Oh, sorry Marinette.” Allegra apologized, sparing her a guilty glance. “I just can’t believe I missed that epic ice fight yesterday! It would have put my blog’s ratings through the roof!” 

“But your ratings are already booming.” Marinette pointed out, wiping her finger on a handkerchief. “Didn’t you get a picture of Ladybug saving Le Paon?”

“Yeah, through frosted glass.” Allegra sighed. “People could easily call it a hoax.. And you’re sure you didn’t get any pictures either?” 

Marinette shook her head. “We got stuck in the ice rink when the frost hit.” 

Allegra rose a brow. “‘We’?”

“Oh, yeah. Alya and I went together, and she invited the Agrestes.” Marinette replied, not thinking much of it. 

She didn’t notice the coy smile that curled onto Allegra’s lips. 

“Felix was there?” 

Marinette nodded, feeling a bit of heat come to her cheeks at the thought of him. By the time they finished ice skating yesterday, Felix and Marinette had practically been hugging each other. It wasn’t until Alya started taking pictures that she actually let go. The fact that she didn’t want to step away from him only worried Marinette more. What if she really did have feelings for Felix? He seemed to enjoy spending time with her, but did she honestly have a chance when it came to love? Marinette was a baker girl, and Felix was the heir to an enormous fashion company. He probably had girls lining up for his affections just like Adrien did, girls who were far prettier than her and a much better fit for someone like him. No, she and Felix could never be together in a romantic sense. Despite what Alya thought, some people just worked better as friends than lovers. This was obviously one of those times.

“Mari, I’ve been thinking..” Allegra spoke again, pulling Marinette from her thoughts. “Why don’t we plan a study date together? I know this really good cafe that serves the best lattes-”

Marinette perked up at the mention of lattes. She loved those heavenly drinks.

“-and it’ll help me be a little more productive while we talk about ‘Birds of a Feather’.”

“I don’t see why not.” She shrugged, sticking her needle into her pin cushion. “Would Saturday work for you?”

Allegra smiled. “Perfect! We can meet at the Laduree cafe around noon for lunch?” 

Marinette stood up. “Can you do four? I need to help out in the bakery first.”

“Four’s good.”

“Great! I need to get going now, if you don’t mind. The suns going down, and I was hoping I could get some sketching in today.”

“Oh, sure, but why do you need to go outside to sketch?” Allegra asked, slipping her purse over her shoulder.

“It helps keep my inspiration flowing.” Marinette shrugged. She then scooped her sketch pencils and erasure into her “art bag” and shook her bag around so she could fit her sketchbook inside as well.

“Huh.. that makes sense. I’ll see you tomorrow at school then!” Allegra said with a wave before flipping open the trap door.

Marinette returned her wave with a smile and took a few extra minutes getting the last of her things together before following her friend down the ladder. 

“Maman, I’m going out to sketch!” She called over her shoulder as she passed the cash register.

“Alright, sweetie! Be back in time for supper!” Sabine called back from the kitchen.

Another wave to Allegra, and she was out the door, strolling down the sidewalk and thinking up a few designs to start when she got to her favorite sketching spot. Hopefully it would take her mind off of the whole Felix business.

~~~~~~

“Alright, a little to left!” 

Adrien moved to the left as told, trying to hold his pose while doing so.

The cameraman frowned and shook his head. “No, no, show me a smile! A smile! Surely you can do better than that, Monsieur Agreste.”

Felix rolled his eyes as Adrien’s smile widened. He was trying too hard to look happy. Of course, Felix wouldn’t be happy either if he had to do multiple photo shoots two days in a row. Maybe he should look up some of the child labor laws in France. This much work on a fourteen year old couldn’t possibly be legal. 

The photographer sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. “No, something is still missing! Let’s change the scenery. Maybe that will get your sparkle back.” 

As soon as the camera was off of him, Adrien’s shoulders sagged. He looked exhausted.

“You know, I could always have Father rearrange your schedule for rest.” Felix offered, extending his cup of coffee to him.

Adrien refused the drink, but gave a half smile at the thought of an easier schedule. “Thanks, but you know he’d never agree to that. If I start complaining, he might pull me out of school.” 

“It’s not complaining. It’s called ‘Mental health’.” Felix replied, taking a sip of the coffee himself.

“He’ll still pull me out of school.” 

“Come! Come!” The photographer interrupted, gesturing for the boys to follow him. “We must hurry if we are going to finish!” 

Reluctantly, Felix and Adrien climbed into their car, where they were driven to another park across town. 

-

The Trocadero Gardens. Felix had seen it before in passing, but he’d never visited the park for some reason. Maybe he’d just been too preoccupied with his books.

The car rolled to a stop, and the boys barely had time to unbuckle before being ushered out of the car.

“No time to waste!” The photographer stressed as he set up his camera again.

Felix sent the photographer a glare. This guy was literally getting paid by the hour. What was he rushing for?

Adrien- good little doormat that he was -walked over to stand in front of the fountain as the photographer instructed. 

Felix opted to wander around the park instead. Why watch your little brother waste away in the model industry when you can enjoy a nice afternoon at a new park? It seemed like a waste to stay put, if you asked him.

The park wasn’t all that large, but he found it refreshing anyway. There was a mother taking her baby for a walk in a stroller, a man taking his dog for a walk, and another man who appeared to be feeding pigeons. Felix didn’t recall that being allowed there.

Oh, there’s even an artist here. He thought, seeing a young girl on the concrete steps across from the fountain. She held a pink notebook in her lap, and appeared to be very engrossed in what she was doing as she scribbled across the page. Her tongue was sticking out and everything. The only other person he knew that did that was..

Wait.

“..Marinette?” He said, a bit hesitant at first. When she looked up, though, Felix had no trouble walking over to her.

“Felix? What are you doing here?” She asked, eyes wide with surprise.

Felix smirked. This girl was too adorable.

“Adrien is having a photo shoot.” He answered, gesturing behind him to the cameraman. “You look busy. Should I leave you to your work?” 

“Oh, no, no. It’s- um -I’m just working on some sketches, so..” Marinette stuttered, fiddling with the edges of her notebook.

Felix nodded and mouthed an “ah”.

“Do you mind if I..” He trailed off, motioning towards the spot on the stairs next to her.

Marinette straightened. “Oh! No, of course not. Please.” 

“So what are you working on? If you don’t mind me asking, that is.” Felix asked as he sat down.

A smile graced her lips. “Not at all. I wasn’t working on anything specific. Just a few things that popped into my head.”

She tilted the notebook, and Felix leaned closer so he could get a proper view. The first sketch on the left was what looked to be a thin, transparent dress clipped around a solid sheath dress. The picture was only half-way colored, but he could tell she was aiming for a colorful creation. The transparent fabric would be a brilliant rainbow color lined with silver, and the sheath dress would be a deep shade of red to compliment it. The second sketch on the right looked just as promising, though it wasn’t colored yet. It was a casual outfit: Jeans, high-heeled ankle boots, and a blouse with vertical stripes and bell sleeves. 

“They look wonderful.” He commented, lightly touching the edge of the page. “I can’t wait to see them in a fashion show.” 

Marinette pulled the notebook away. “Oh, I don’t know about a show. I mean, I love designing, but these are just doodles, really.”

Felix couldn’t help giving a soft smile. Sometimes it was hard to tell if Marinette was just too humble or too insecure. Maybe a little bit of both. 

“You should come over again sometime.” He hadn’t meant to say out loud, in all honesty, but he certainly wasn’t going to take it back now that he had. Felix rather enjoyed her last visit, more so than he would ever admit out loud.

“Only if you’re comfortable with it.” He added, suddenly getting the urge to look at the ground instead of her. “I don’t know if we’ll be able to talk with him personally, but I’m sure Father would love to see more of your work.”

Marinette smiled bashfully. “That sounds great. Thank you.” 

Felix let out a breath, relieved. “You don’t have to thank me. With talent like that, you were bound to be noticed eventually, whether I introduced you to Father or not.”

An adorable blush bloomed across her freckled cheeks as she turned back to her notebook. How can something so small make him feel so light? 

“Woah, Marinette! You’re here too?” 

The moment was interrupted by none other than Adrien, who either just finished his shoot or convinced the photographer to let him take a break. Judging by his outfit- the usual black shirt and white jacket with jeans -Felix was going to guess the former.

“Oh, hi, Adrien!” Marinette greeted brightly. “I just came here to get some sketching done. How was your shoot?” 

“It was fine.” Adrien replied, leaning over her to get a glimpse of the pages. “Those drawings look awesome! I wish I was that talented.” 

Marinette flushed again and tucked a stray hair behind her ear. “T-Thanks, but it’s really just practice..” 

Adrien chuckled. “Believe me, Mari, I could practice for years and not be able to come up with those designs.” 

“I can’t say I disagree.” Felix spoke up. 

He learned too late that that was a mistake.

Adrien turned his gaze to Felix, a predatory-like smile coming to his lips. “No, I’m sure you can’t. How did you two run into each other, again?”

Felix held back a glare. Barely. “If you must know, I stumbled upon her by chance while roaming the park” 

Adrien hummed. “‘By chance while roaming the park’.. I guess that’s convincing enough.” 

Felix scoffed, but Marinette giggled.

“Marinette, it was nice seeing you, but we should probably get going. If the shoot is over, Gorilla should be in the car waiting for us.” Felix said, getting to his feet. Better to leave now than let Adrien keep babbling nonsense.

“You’re not going to try to stall to see her longer?” Adrien asked, thankfully in a lower tone this time. Felix nudged him in the side in retaliation. That boy was just begging to be locked out of the mansion later.

The two waved goodbye to Marinette, and Felix made sure to hold Adrien with an iron grip as they made their way back to the car.

“Have you no shame? She’s going to think that we’re complete idiots. At the most, you’ll make her extremely uncomfortable.” Felix scolded.

Adrien laughed. “Relax, Fe. Marinette obviously doesn’t mind. She even laughed!”

Felix tisked, though he couldn’t deny it. Marinette did laugh.. But that didn’t necessarily mean she enjoyed his implications. He wasn’t sure what it meant. Did she like him back? Was this her way of hinting that Adrien was right? Or was she just being polite as usual?

He shook his head. What was he thinking! He didn’t even feel that way towards Marinette! Or.. he wasn’t supposed to. Argh! Adrien’s teasing is starting to get into his head.

“Hey, look on the bright side.” Adrien said, noticing his brother’s annoyance. “I’m sure she thinks you look cute when you’re angry.”

“Shut up.”

~~~~~~

Claude hummed a little tune as he walked into the classroom. It wasn’t everyday that he got to class early, but this was a special request via Allegra. And when Allegra asks you to do something, you do it. 

He sat down at his assigned desk, paying no mind to the classmate or two that walked in after him, and took his tablet out of his bag. After turning it on, he pulled out another textbook, placing it neatly next to the tablet. A simple set-up, but it should do. Now all Claude had to do was play the part.

The bell rang through the halls, prompting more students to file into the classrooms. Felix came stalking in not a minute later, the exact time Allegra said he would.

Showtime.

Claude groaned as loud as he could and dramatically flopped onto the desk. “Oh, it’s hopeless! It’s all just hopeless!” 

He heard Felix sigh.

“What’s your problem now?” The blonde asked tiredly, moving Claude’s arm to the side as he sat down. Not as much sympathy as he was hoping for, but- hey -it was Felix. What did he expect?

Claude rolled to the side, letting his head fall on Felix’s shoulder and throwing his arm over his face. “It’s Chemistry. I just can’t understand any of it! No matter how hard I try, or how much I study, the formulas make no sense! I’m going to fail this class.”

Felix tisked towards his wailing and moved over, causing Claude to fall back onto the bench. “Maybe you should try paying attention in class.”

Claude rubbed the back of his head with a pout. This guy really was heartless. How did Marinette get him to be so nice?

“I do pay attention. It doesn’t help. You’re a straight-A student. How do you do it?” He continued as he sat back up.

Felix rolled his eyes. “It’s not hard. Just listen, take notes, and do the reading. Simple.” 

“Felix~.” Claude whined, falling back onto him again. 

As Felix started pushing him off, Claude noticed Allegra and Allan walking in. Allegra caught his eye briefly and gave him a subtle yet satisfied smirk.

Claude gasped, abruptly straightening in his seat. He needed to finish this soon or class was going to start.

“Hey, I know! You can tutor me!” He exclaimed, as if he’d just been given an epiphany.

“Absolutely not.” Felix replied flatly.

“Aw, come on, Fe.” Claude pleaded, even batting his eyelashes. “It’ll just be one little study session! All you have to do is check my work and tell me what I’m doing wrong.”

Felix glared. “I said no. Why don’t you have Allegra help you?”

Allegra tilted her head back to look at them from her assigned seat. “Can’t. I’m busy tomorrow.”

“Who said anything about tomorrow? Study with him another day.” Felix said, pulling his tablet out of his bag.

“Oh, don’t be so cold.” Claude frowned. “What if I take you to your favorite coffee shop?”

Felix paused. “The Laduree cafe?”

Claude perked up. “Yep! You can get anything you want, and all you have to do is explain a few simple terms to me.”

“Or I could just go by myself.” 

Claude scoffed. “Just take the deal, please.”

Felix gave him a skeptical look. That was a good sign, right?

“Fine.” He finally relented. “When do you want to study?” 

Yes! 

“Tomorrow’s good. Say around..” He trailed off, glancing at Allegra. “Noon?”

Allegra shook her head and held up four fingers.

“Er- four. I meant four. Let’s meet up at four tomorrow.” 

“Mhm. Sure. Just don’t be late.” Felix replied, already going back to his books.

“Oh, don’t worry.” Claude assured as the last bell rang. “I wouldn’t miss it for the world.” 

Felix didn’t respond, but if he would’ve bothered to look up, he would have caught Claude and Allegra giving each other a quiet high five.

Mission accomplished.

This was going to be fun.

~~~~~~

Marinette slid into the booth and set her backpack against the wall. She then brushed off the bits of flour sticking to her sleeve. Even after changing, the powdery substance still managed to infect her second outfit. At least it was one of the smaller bags that she dropped this time. How can she save an entire city as Ladybug, but not be able to make a simple batch of cookies without wrecking the kitchen as Marinette? Sometimes she wondered why her parents had her help in the bakery at all, if you can call that helping.

“Thanks for meeting with me today, Marinette.” Allegra said, putting one of her textbooks on the table.

Marinette smiled. “Of course. A study date is definitely something I need, and I always enjoy our time together.”

Allegra put a hand to her chest. “Aw, so do I! What do you want to do first? Study or talk about ‘Birds of a Feather’?”

Marinette glanced down at her backpack in thought. They had a test coming up next week, so they definitely needed to study at some point. If they did, though, she’d want it to be fresh in her mind. 

“Mm, let’s talk about the blog first.” She decided. 

“Perfect!” Allegra beamed, pulling the app up on her phone. “There hasn’t been an akuma for three days. That means that one is bound to show up soon, since Hawkmoth doesn’t normally wait a whole month for akumas.”

Marinette nodded, genuinely impressed. Allegra’s reports were always so detailed. It didn’t surprise her that Alya was threatened by the competition. 

“Like I expected, people are claiming fraud on my pictures. I think the few pics Alya got for her blog are the only reason I’m not being swarmed by haters. We need to get a lot of good pictures during this next battle or I’m going to start losing followers.”

“How do you suppose we do that?” 

Allegra pressed a few buttons on her phone, before flipping the device for Marinette to see the screen. Multiple videos were splayed across the screen, each showing a different area of the city.

“We’re always having trouble getting the footage because we have to run around the city, right? Well, the way I see it is: why bother racing around to get one, blurry photo when we have all the cameras we need already?”

Marinette furrowed her eyebrows. “Are those.. Security cameras? How did you get access to these?”

Allegra pulled the phone back, a smug expression making its way onto her features. “Let’s just say I borrowed the little tech genius from your class.”

“Max?” Why would he agree to help with something like that? Tampering with the camera systems was illegal!

“Allegra, I’m not sure about this.” Marinette said. Not only could they get in serious, legal trouble for this, giving Allegra access to the city’s security cameras could also jeopardize her identity. What if she landed in the wrong alleyway, and Allegra caught her detransforming on tape? What if she already had?

“But it’s such a good idea!” Allegra tried to persuade her. “With these, we’ll be able to catch tons of video footage for Le Paon without lifting a finger!” 

Marinette sighed. “This isn’t right. What if the government found out? Mayor Bourgeois would be furious. How long have you been doing this?”

Disappointment flicked across Allegra’s expression, but she turned the cameras off. “Only since this morning. I thought it was a good idea, too.”

Marinette slumped back into her booth seat, feeling the rush of relief. 

“So, no on the security cameras.” Allegra concluded, setting her phone on the table dejectedly. “I guess we’ll just have to keep getting as many pictures of him as we can.” 

Marinette hummed. Security Cameras definitely weren't an option, but they couldn’t run around Paris like they had been, either. Something needed to change..

“What if we made a tag.” She suggested. “Like an akuma or Le Paon tag. That way, when someone saw Le Paon or an akuma, they would tag us.”

And Ladybug and Chat Noir will get more warnings before an attack.

Allegra brightened. “Oh yeah! That’s pretty close to security cameras. Maybe other people can get pictures for us too.” 

Marinette nodded and started typing out the ideas on a memo from her phone. She didn’t want to forget what the tag names would be. 

They started brainstorming what names to use, but the two only got a few names in when a gasp interrupted them.

“Woah! What are you guys doing here?”

It was Claude, and he seemed extremely enthusiastic about seeing them for some reason. 

“Are you guys studying? What a coincidence! We are too!”  He exclaimed as he reached behind him and pulled someone else forward. 

Marinette’s eyes widened, recognizing them immediately.

Felix glowered at Claude, until his eyes landed on Marinette. She felt her heart rate pick up as they stared at each other. First, the park, and now, the cafe? Why was she suddenly seeing him everywhere? It wasn’t necessarily a bad thing, but..

“Wow! What are the odds?” Allegra said, bringing Marinette from her thoughts. “Since we’re all here, why don’t you guys study with us?”

“Wha-?” 

“Oh no, we couldn’t.” Claude replied, though he was already sitting down next to her. “Are you sure you don’t mind?”

“Of course we’re sure! Aren’t we, Marinette?” 

Marinette faltered at the sudden question. They both looked so expectant and eager. It was a bit unnerving, to be honest. She glanced at Felix, who seemed equally astonished- and a little annoyed, but she was told that he always looked that way.

“Uh.. sure. You guys can sit with us.” She finally answered.

“Thanks, Mari, you’re the best.” Claude remarked as he reached for one of the menus. 

Felix remained standing, apparently indecisive about what to do.

“Take a seat, Felix.” Allegra prompted, flashing him a sharp smile. “It’s rude to linger.”

His lips twitched in a scowl, but he sat down as he was told. Why was he so upset? It wasn’t because of her, was it?

“If you’re uncomfortable, you don’t have to sit with us.” Marinette assured, trying to sound as understanding as possible.

Felix met her eyes again at the comment, and his expression softened.

“No, it’s fine. I’ll stay.”

“Great!” Claude grinned. “Now we can all study together.” 

Marinette smiled for Claude’s sake, even though she still felt nervous on Felix’s behalf.

Everyone got out their respective books- Chemistry, History, and English -and started studying. Felix grumbled a few pointers to Claude, who wrote them down with an all-too-pleased expression. Allegra would occasionally ask Marinette to check her work, and, in turn, Marinette would ask Allegra to quiz her on a few terms. A waiter came by with their drinks not long after. Marinette made sure to set a sweet aside for Tikki.

“So how’d you guys end up here?” Marinette asked as she sipped on her latte, simply making polite conversation. 

Claude, of course, was the first to answer. “I bribed Felix into tutoring me by bringing him to his favorite coffee shop.” 

“Oh, this is your favorite coffee shop?”

Felix nodded. “It’s close to the library that I fancy. The Cappuccinos aren’t bad either.”

Marinette hummed. “I wouldn’t know. I prefer lattes, myself.” 

“Would you like to try it?” He offered, gently pushing the cup towards her.

Marinette took the cup with a “thanks” and carefully brought the hot drink to her lips. The boldness of the coffee taste threw her at first, though she couldn’t say that she disliked it. A hint of sweetness caught her attention too, despite the liquid being mostly bitter. It’s not something she would usually order, but overall..

“Not bad.” She decided, pushing the cup back over to Felix.

Felix gave a small smile as he pulled it back. “Told you it wouldn’t be.”

Marinette giggled. “I’ll have to get one next time I come.” 

“Well, maybe I’ll see you here. Then I can get your latte.” He replied lightheartedly.

Marinette smiled, fighting down another blush. At least she knew that she wasn’t the reason for his discomfort. 

“I’d like that.”

~~~~~~

Felix slipped his books into his bag and tucked his pen and pencil into their respective pockets on the side. The fact that he stayed here for three whole hours with those hooligans should be considered an accomplishment. He swung his bag over his shoulder, looking out the window for his car as he did. With all of the street lights, it was almost hard to tell that the sun had already set. The slim line of dark blue above the building across the street was his only confirmation of the night’s presence. 

He glanced down at Marinette, who was now curled up on her booth seat, head tucked in her arms on the table, fast asleep. She’d lulled off around ten minutes ago, which is why they decided it was time to leave in the first place. 

“Don’t stare too hard.” Claude smirked. 

“I can take a picture for you if you want.” Allegra teased.

Felix shot them a glare, his irritation from earlier resurfacing in his mind. “Don’t patronize me. What the heck was this, anyway?”

Allegra smiled innocently. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” 

“Don’t act like you two didn’t set this whole thing up!” Felix snapped.

“Now, now, let’s not get riled up. We wouldn’t want to wake sweet Marinette.” Claude said in a hushed tone.

As if on queue, the ravenette let out a yawn, before cuddling back into her crossed arms.

“I don’t see what the problem is.” Allegra commented as she picked up her book bag. “You two had a good time.”

“You even got an indirect kiss.” Claude remarked.

Felix flushed. “Wha-”

“And you got a second date.” Allegra added.

His blush deepened. “Date? Second? What are you two even talking about?” 

The pair snickered.

“Oh, don’t act like you don’t know.” Claude sang as he nudged Felix in the shoulder.

Felix scoffed and went to retort when Allegra spoke again.

“Welp! We’d better get going. Be a dear and make sure Marinette gets home safe, will you?” 

How she wormed her way around him, he’ll never know, but Allegra and Claude were out the door before he could even refuse the request. It’s not that he minded taking Marinette home. It’s more of that he’d just about had enough of those two meddling in his personal affairs. Didn’t they have anything better to do with their lives? 

Probably not. He thought, moving to Marinette’s side so he could wake her up. She heaved a sigh, blowing a bit of her bangs to the side as she did. She looked so peaceful. So delicate. It made him want to let her sleep forever. 

Felix brushed a strand of her hair to the side, lightly tucking it behind her ear so it didn’t bother her. Round, black earrings gleamed under the cafe’s lights. They were a bit plain for a fashion designer. Maybe they were special to her somehow.

“Mari.” He said softly, giving her shoulder a small push. “It’s time to wake up. I need to take you home.” 

Marinette hummed and shifted on the booth. “Mm.. yes, Le Paon, you should go home.. Come back tomorrow, though”

Felix reeled back, heat rushing to his cheeks. Did he hear that right? Was she.. was she dreaming about him? (Or, dreaming about Le Paon.) Either way, it sounded like she wanted his alter ego to come visit again.

He shook his head, and nudged her a second time. Now was not the time for bashfulness.

After a few tries, she finally woke up enough for him to walk her outside. By then, Gorilla was already out there and waiting for him in the car. He opened the car door for Marinette, then walked around to his side once she was settled in.

“Take us to the Dupain-Cheng Bakery, please.” 

Gorilla nodded and pulled onto the street. Felix leaned back in his seat, still thinking about what Marinette had said. Granted, she’d said it in a dream-induced state, but that just meant she dreamt about him, right? To dream about something, you’d have to think about it often. How much does she think about Le Paon? About him?

A light weight sunk into his shoulder, effectively cutting off his thoughts and seizing his heart. He didn’t have to look down to know what it was. Marinette. She was sleeping. On his shoulder. She must have forgotten to fasten her seat belt. When did she move so close to him? Should he wake her up? That would be the polite thing to do..

Felix shook her shoulder slightly, but she only snuggled further into his arm. He was about to shake her again, when he paused. She looked so cute, and the way she leaned on him felt.. Nice. He didn’t want to wake her up. He.. he liked it. 

Oh gosh, he liked it. 

Felix sucked in a breath. 

Calm down. It’s not like you haven’t been this close before. He told himself. They’d practically hugged each other at the ice rink the other day, though he didn’t feel the way that he did now. 

His thoughts flicked back to that time when he first went to her house as Le Paon, when she held his hand and looked at him with a quiet understanding. He’d felt something then. It was..anxiety..and excitement. An odd eagerness that yearned to be explored. Moments like these- in the quiet of the night and the vulnerability of their hearts -were the ones that resonated within him the most. He couldn’t help wondering if he would feel it now. If he just moved his hand a little closer.. Would he be able to..?

Felix ripped his hand away and took another deep breath. Marinette was asleep right now. He couldn’t go around touching people like that while they were unconscious, even if it was a simple hold of the hand. 

He pushed her back onto her side of the car- careful not to wake her up too much -and buckled her in so she wouldn’t fall again. They dropped her off a few minutes later. She was a bit disoriented, but thanked them nonetheless and got out like nothing had happened. Felix wondered if he would be able to act the same way when he saw her again. 

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[gothamsglam]

How Wonder-land-a-ful!

Transferring to SHIELD high did many things for Tony, one of them was reuniting him with James Rhodes. Just not how he wanted to.

Ever After High/Marvel Fusion. Ironhusbands, of course. (You don't have to know much about Ever After High to read this, think just some fairy tale AU and you'll be fine!)

AO3 LINK IN NOTES

I wanted to churn out one more story for the end of 2020, I thought something more silly would be a great way to end this uh year.

This idea has stuck with me for a while, and I finally wrote it.

Hope you enjoy!!!

~Vix

SHIELD High was so bland . Yes, it was grand of course, structured like the classically large fairy-tale castles of Ever After. The hallways were marble with lockers and vines lining the walls and trees and plants growing willy nilly around the school. Chandeliers hung from the high ceilings, and large arched windows showed off the beauty of the lands around them. In the distance, Tony swears he can see Sleeping Beauty’s castle.

But SHIELD high was just bland in comparison to home. To Wonderland . Not even the personalized dorms could make up for the fact that school was all year long— ew , who made that rule—instead of one day a year. Tony missed the nonsensical beauty of SI High, where the hallways ran instead of you, where you had to find the paintbrushes in passing period to paint the doors—free art credits!—, and the cafeteria that was switched with the auditorium.

But the castle-teria at SHIELD was just a long hall with rows and rows of marvel benches, pillars in the corners to honor the greek storylines and pay tribute to the last generation of Fairytale legends.

It was so boring. And just looking at it made Tony want to *poof* right there and then.

“Hi Tony,” Steve Rogers asked, coming behind him in the castle-teria, “Need a place to sit?”

Oh and this, this was another thing Tony wasn’t fond of. Transferring to SHIELD high meant he actually was walking among the children of fairy tale legend.  Disgusting.

Father was too fond of them, far too fond of them. Back when Wonderland and Ever After had many open portals between one another—back before the curse on Wonderland by the Evil Queen of the HYDRA family. Howard was an ambassador , the git.

Howard didn’t get the White Rabbit legacy as Tony did, no, Uncle Jarvis had. Howard was a part of the Wakandan court, one of many peace ambassadors to the other royal families, particularly the ones in Ever After. Oh, the tales Tony was told as a young bunny, of the Rogers Family’s legacy brought forth by the apple, of the Red Hooded Romanoffs, and the Rose pricked Wilsons.

Tony was glad he didn’t have to walk among them at SI High, he was content to only have to see them in the crowd at Legacy day. Tony was actually really excited for Legacy day, his own legacy wasn’t following his father, but rather his mother and Uncle Jarvis. Signing his page in the Storybook of Legends was a milestone Tony didn’t mind looking forward to.

However Tony also understood why James Barnes, heir to the Evil Queen, wouldn’t want to sign. To each their own, he supposes.

But ugh, SHIELD high had too many Princes, he hated it.

His nose twitching, Tony ducked away from Rogers—who was bigger, blonder, and oh the clocks was that a red crown on his stupid head? “Thanks, but no thanks, golden boy. I’ll just—uh—”

He looked out at the rows and rows of tables, at the heads of up-dos and flower pins, and the sea of gelled down curls and impeccable sleeves. Seriously how does no one have a stain on their shirt? It’s mud-loaf day!

There! Out in the crowd, a hand popped out waving him over, Tony grinned, popping up a bit and rushing away from the other guy, “See ya, Rogers!”

“Bye…?”

Resisting the urge to stick out his tongue, Tony padded away with swift steps, the click of his shoes drowned out by the noise of the castle-teria. Reaching the table in the back, he grinned at the sight of familiar friends.

He wasn’t the only one apart of the exchange program of course, in fact, he was the second wave of students, prepared by letters sent by the other students. Tony had his own assigned group of the next exchange student. A lovely little trio of kids. Peter would not stop asking about the royal classes offered at SHIELD and MJ was more interesting in the classes offered by Maria Hill. Tony wouldn’t know, of course, he switched out of those classes the second day after running into pig shit mid-chase. For a house on chicken legs, it was surprisingly very fast.

Virginia ‘Pepper’ Potts was donned in swirls of light peach and blue with subtle armor around her waist and shoulders. Her hair was curled, pinned away from her face in a half updo, with the rest falling around her and nearly touching the table as she leaned in to pat the now empty spot across from her.

“Tony!” She exclaimed, freckles dancing across her face as she broke out into a smile, “got lost?” She teased.

Tony blew a raspberry, “Pssht, no, How could I get lost here? Wonderland was more interesting, this place is just boring,” he waved, twirling his fork in his food.

T’challa laughed, the matte gold detailing on his black jacket catching the light beans from the windows, it covered his purple and black card-like patterned dress shirt “That’s what you think, Stark. But with everything looking the same, you’ll pass by the same five classrooms over and over without noticing.”

Tony also laughed, “True. Remember, how—when you missed the upside-down sidewalk outside of bio-mechanics—you could end up in fishing class because of the fountain step? Every time the freshmen would come in dripping halfway through class.”

“Oh, does everyone still call them fish?” Sharon asked, pulling out Earl the dormouse from her empty teacup. He hopped up her shoulder to hide in her mini top hat. Her suit jacket was draped over her shoulders—rather than it being on the bench—and her cream shirt had mini hats detailed, blending in with the folds as it was only a few shades darker.

“Classically,” Tony replied with a wink. They turned back to their conversations, gossiping about their peers such as Maximoff—from Cinderella’s line—who was enamored with Vision—from the hunter’s line. Scandalous.

Tony halfheartedly listened to the discussion but was really on the verge of nodding off. His roommate—Justin Hammer, stupid son of the Cheshire cat—kept playing pranks on him and ruining his things with paint bombs. He almost got a fairy fail in physics because his latest essay had swamp goop over it! He had to stay up rewriting it, which wouldn’t be a problem normally but he had stayed up trying to make weld a new type of gear for his pet project.

Tony must have dozed off for a bit, because when he blinked open his eyes, he was resting on his elbows, folded under some familiar fabric. Blinking blearily at the side of his tray, Tony sat up. Well, that’s embarrassing, so much for his reputation. Pushing a hand through his hair, he avoided glancing around and instead went to look at his lap and pull out his pocket watch. However, someone else reached out to poke his side, resulting in a leap and an ‘eep!’.

“Hey there, sleeping beauty!” Rhodey smirked at him, “I think you and Wilson were supposed to have each other’s destinies. That was some impression you were doing.”

Damn him, Damn it all. Of course , Tony would fall asleep right then and there, drooling over his arms in front of James Rhodes . Of course the first time he’d see the precious son of the Alice bloodline—after literal years in different worlds—would be when he’s conked out in front of his dripping mashed potato tray in the flipping Greek castle-teria. Unbelievable, Tony.

And Rhodes— Rhodey —has the literal audacity to sit there with a playful smirk on his face. Sit there in his v-neck— v-neck!!! —map patterned shirt that should make him look like a dork but he doesn’t , and a necklace that dips over his collarbone —and oh stars —his hair .

Tony really should say something, “Uh—Hi, honey bear?” His voice cracks, because of course, it does.

“Hi, Tones,” Rhodey replies with a smile, and it’s dazzling . Tony just might scream.

Everything is muted, he couldn’t tell you if Pepper and Sharon were still talking, if T’challa had left the table or if lunch was even over. It feels like, for a brief moment, there’s only Rhodey.

Rhodey, who’s turning around to address someone else. Tony also looks away, trying to keep his ears from burning up and turning red.

“Tony, were you drawing in your mash potatoes?” Rhodey looks over, pressing slightly against Tony to peer over at his tray.

Which prompts Tony to dart out and pull the tray towards him with a, “Nooooo?”

Rhodes looks back at him, raising an eyebrow, “Really?”

“Maybe~?”

That prompted a laugh out of him, gaining the attention of Pepper sitting a bit away from them. “Oh, Tony’s still doing that? I thought that was only a Wonderland thing.”

“Hey!” Tony wrinkled his nose and glared at her, silently grateful at the fact that pulled him out of mentally gaping like a fish at his best friend—are they even best friends anymore? Rhodey probably has like a billion of them at SHIELD. “I can do it anywhere. It’s called art.”

“You wouldn’t know art if it slapped you in the face.”

Tony opened his mouth, literally about to say, ‘I mean if Rhodey slapped me in the face I would say he’s art.’ before he’s stopped by the one jellybean of a brain cell in the back of his mind.

Well that and Rhodey’s “If anyone can bring wonder with them to SHIELD, it would be Tony.”

Which, oKAY , Tony needs to stop exploding inwardly and actually say something, “Um, speaking of wonder, does anyone know anything about that one well myth?”

“The well of wonder?” Sharon asked, polling her hand from her mouth where she was probably stifling giggles, which rude, ok.

T’challa also answered, “I believe I might be of help. Why are you asking Tony?”

Tony darted a look at Rhodey—he can’t see his face because he’s looking at T’challa, but he swears that under the table his fist clenches. Weird—before looking at T’challa, “It’s a surprise,” He winked.

And it was! But for Rhodey. He was supposed to have it done pre-meeting him at lunch, but thanks to Hammer he missed his mental deadlines. It wasn’t like he had sought out Natasha Romanoff beforehand to ask about James’ schedule so he could know when they had lunch together or anything, absolutely not.

See—back when in Wonderland—, Tony and Rhodey would galavant about, exploring the lands and falling down many rabbit holes, quite literally. Tony remembers how in his workshop, Rhodey would always love seeing Tony design the swords and spears for the Wonderland card-guards—the Dora Milaje. However what Tony specialized in was watch-making, specifically enchanted watches. Watches with personality, with faces that weren’t just hands and numbers or mini mirror-pods, but near people like. Pixel-faires born of Tony’s creation. DUM-E was his first.

‘You’ was meant for Rhodey, he’d been making them ever since he heard he was chosen for the second era of exchange students. It really shouldn’t have taken so long, but without the wonder of Wonderland and his workshop, it was harder.

So when he heard about the well of wonder, the last remain flow between the two worlds, he knew he had to find it. Too bad it disappeared every night, popping up all over Ever After.

“It would be best to go with someone Tony,” Sharon said, “The well likes to frequent the forest.”

“I could go with you!” Rhodey exclaimed, well not exclaimed, that was just Tony projecting. Mostly... Maybe? No, probably.

“Really?” Tony asked, “You don’t—?”

“It’s my free period anyway," Rhodey shrugged, “Besides you’re already using my jacket, so now you can wear it in the forest too!”

“I—” Tony looks back at the table, and oh.

Oh , that’s what he was sleeping on.

T’challa mentioned stopping by their—his and Rhodey’s—dorm so they can get directions. There’s more regaling of the well, and mentions of seeing Bruce Banner and Thor frequenting the area, which ooo? But all Tony really remembers is seeing Rhodey reaching over, draping his jacket over Tony’s shoulder.

“It’s a date,” Rhodey grinned with a dazzling smile.

~FIN~

So do you like who is who? I didn't recast everyone, but I might continue this AU so maybe I will later down the line! Please let me know what you think in the comments and leave a kudo too! Love you all!!!

[smalltowndetective]

31 Days of Wayhaven-Apology

@31daysofwayhaven

I know this prompt is probably supposed to be angsty, but I made it fluff. Somehow. I hope you like it! :)

Ao3 Link

Title: Brighten Days

Pairing: Felix and Thea

Words:1.1k

Felix sighed, and spread himself out on the couch of the social room of the warehouse, eyes staring up at the ceiling.

               “Are you going to get like this every time she’s gone?”, Mason groaned, “She’s going to come back”.

               Thea had left for work a few hours ago, and ever since, Felix had been moping around the place, just wanting her to hurry up and get back. He had resisted the urge to call her, but it was starting to drive him crazy.

               “Maybe I just want her to be here”, he shrugged.

               “Thea’s been gone for four hours”, Mason said, rolling his eyes, “You’re acting like you haven’t seen her in months”.

               “Oh, come on, let me wallow in peace”, Felix said, a small smile forming on his lips.

               Mason scoffed, “Like you would ever do the same for me”.

               He laughed at the statement, knowing it was true, and then he took out his phone to look at the picture of the two of them that was now his lock screen, letting himself stare at it, wishing that he could see that gentle smile in person rather than just in a photo.

               Felix heard someone else enter the room, and judging by the stiff footsteps, it was Adam.

               “Felix, Agent Holland still needs your report”, he said, then he turned to look at him, “What are you doing?”

               “Waiting for Thea”, he muttered under his breath, and even without looking at him, he could sense Adam rolling his eyes.

               “That doesn’t mean you can’t finish your report”, he said, “You might as well get it done before she gets here”.

               “Ugh, fine”, Felix sighed heavily, and shoved his phone back in his pocket, and he got up and made his way to the library.

               When he got there, Felix was not surprised to find that Nate was already there, bent over one of his books, with a small pile forming in front of him, and he was not sure if those were ones that he had already finished or were going to read, but knowing Nate, those were likely ones that he already read.

               He perked up as he walked in, “Didn’t expect to see you here”

               “Trust me”, Felix huffed, “If I had a choice, I wouldn’t by in here. But Adam wants me to do my report”.

               “And you’re actually going to do it?”, Nate asked.

               “Not much else to do while Thea isn’t here”, he said, slouching in one of the desk chairs.

               Nate chuckled, “You know, you might be better off waiting for her to get here. You normally fill out your reports pretty quickly with her help”.

               “That’s ‘cause she makes it easy”, Felix stated as if that was obvious.

               “I’m pretty sure it’s just because Thea makes you see how simple it actually is”, Nate countered.

               He shrugged, “Maybe, but I rather not be having to do work when she’s here”.

               “Then you better get started”, Nate said, giving a him a smile.

               Felix nodded in response, and turned around to get to work on it.

               Each sentence that he wrote took everything out of him, but after hours of mind- numbingly boringness, he finally finished scrawling three pages of his report, hoping that would be enough in order to please Adam and Agent Holland. Nate had left in some point during the day, but he had hardly paid attention to it. Felix pushed the report aside, put his head down on the desk, and he could vaguely hear someone come in, but he did not move to see who it was, though it did seem familiar.

               “Felix”, a sweet voice whispered, and knowing who it was, he spun around with an almost blur of speed.

               What he had not taken into account was how close Thea was, and he ended up smacking her in the face.

               “Oh, shit!”, he exclaimed, as Thea threw her hand up to her face, “I’m so so sorry!”

               He expected her to give him an angry look, but instead, she started laughing, and the panic that was started to fill him fell away.

               “No, no, it’s okay!”, she said between laughs, “I didn’t think I would be able to sneak up on you like that”

               Felix threw his arms around her in an embrace, and allowed himself to drink in her blue eyes, crinkled in amusement.

               “I’m still really sorry”, he said, “I didn’t break your nose, did I?”

               “I don’t think so”, Thea replied, and Felix could feel himself frown, gently breaking the embrace to which, she said “I’m okay, really. It was just a bit surprising”.

               Felix gave her a grin, willing to put it all behind them, “So, how was your day?”

               “I had to go searching for a missing cat”, she said, a smile tugging at her lips.

               “Why would you have to do that?”

               “Because the owner was convinced someone had cat-napped her cat”, Thea snickered, and Felix laughed at the statement, finding it far more intriguing than anything he had done all day.

               “Did you ever find it?”

               “I did”, Thea said, a bright smile going across her face, “You want to know where?”

               Felix scoffed, “Of course”.

               “Underneath her neighbors’ porch”, she continued, “All curled up in one of the corners, asleep”

               “Guess there is no cat-napper in Wayhaven then”, he said, “Disappointing”

               Thea snorted, “I think Wayhaven has enough to worry about with the hostile supernaturals who make their way here. A cat-napper would just be too much”.

               “That’s where you draw the line?”, Felix laughed.

               “Seems to be as good as a place as ever”, Thea said, then turning to Felix, “How did your day go?”.

               “It was boring”, he put bluntly, “I would have much rather be with you”.

               A small blush crept up her cheeks, “I did spend a good portion of my day listening to the mayor telling me how he was going to cut the station’s budget again, so it hasn’t all been fun”.

               “Still more fun then what I had to do” Felix said, “I had to work on a report all day”.

               “Is it at least done now?”, Thea asked.

               “It is”, he said, giving her a grin, and throwing his arm over her shoulders, “So, now it’s just us for the rest of the evening”.

               Thea moved closer to him, giving him that gentle smile that never failed to make his heart skip a beat, “That certainly brightens the rest of my day”

               He gave her a wide grin, and he led her out of the library, feeling the best that he had felt all day with Thea at his side.

[kumeko]

A/N: For the Persona @wegotyourbackzine! I decided to write about Mitsuru and her changing the relationship throughout the game. I also couldn’t resist putting some Akihiko/Mitsuru hints. XD

Summary: Friendship. That had a nice ring to it. Mitsuru stared at the group of people living in the dorm and realized she wasn’t as alone as she thought.

…

…

…

…

Summer

 The hot summer sun beat down with no reprieve and Mitsuru shielded her eyes with a hand as she walked home. Not escorted, not driven, but walked. She didn’t even have a bodyguard behind her, trailing her inconspicuously from five feet away. And while that was all strange enough, it was not as strange as the two boys walking slightly ahead of her. Her associates. The word didn’t sound right but Mitsuru wasn’t sure what else to call them. Certainly not friends or even classmates—neither Akihiko nor Shinjiro were in her school, let alone her class.

 Holding his jacket over his shoulder, Akihiko looked over his shoulder. The bandage on his face looked like it was glued there, she couldn’t remember seeing him without one. “What did you call those monster things again?”

 “Shadows,” Mitsuru answered quickly. “What you summon with the Evokers are—”

“Personas, right?” Shinjiro filled in, his hands in his pockets. Mitsuru resisted the urge to correct his posture, to straighten his slouched back. Like this, he seemed as tall as Akihiko instead of towering over him. “I can’t believe this is real. It sounds something out of a fantasy book.”

“Or a video game.” Akihiko grinned cockily, swiftly jabbing the air in front of him. “Secret identities, fighting at night, saving the world—we’re like superheroes.”

 “Superheroes?” Shinjiro raised a brow, his expression wry. “Can’t think of one that has to shoot themselves in the head to use their powers.”

 Mitsuru rubbed her forearm uncomfortably. It was mildly disturbing how easy it was to press the cold metal to her head, to pull the trigger. To watch them do the same. Maybe she had something in common with her grandfather after all. “It does sound…silly, when you put it like that. Unfortunately, the design is required. It has to be stress-inducing.”

 “More stress-inducing than fighting monsters in the middle of the night while surrounded by coffins?” Shinjiro asked. She couldn’t tell if he was serious or just rhetorical. His dry tone didn’t help.

 “Quit complaining.” Akihiko cracked his knuckles. “At least we can fight them.”

 “Fighting addict.” Shinjiro rolled his eyes before turning his attention back to her. “Where’d you say the dorms were?”

 Mitsuru looked up at him. “They’re…”

 She stared. Just when had Shinjiro gotten so close? Even Akihiko was, for that matter. At some point, they’d started walking abreast one another, the two boys flanking her, and she didn’t know what to make of it. Of the sound of her footsteps being echoed by two others. Of her voice being answered by another. A dog barked nearby, breaking her from her thoughts, and Mitsuru masked her unease with a polite smile. “Just past this temple.”

 -x-

Fall

 The sound of laughter echoed through the halls and Mitsuru paused as she closed her bedroom door. From the third floor, she couldn’t clearly make out their voices, only a messy cacophony as her companions teased one another. It was a sound she’d been hearing more often these days. Involuntarily, her lips curled into a smile and she locked her room.

 Heading toward the stairs, she glanced at the nameplates as she passed them: Aigis, Yukari, Fuuka. The floor below was equally occupied, and her feet felt light as she descended to the ground floor. When they’d first arrived here, it had felt almost ridiculous to have three people in such a big building. Now they were nine strong and the building was more full than empty. Though it seemed the majority of residents were all crowding around the lobby. “What’s happening?”

 “Mitsuru-senpai!” Crouching next to Koromaru, Junpei waved eagerly as she stepped onto the landing. “You gotta see what Yukari bought Koromaru.” He slowly rose, his shoulders shaking with laughter. “Have you ever seen anything so stupid?”

 “It’s not stupid!” Yukari flushed a bright red and swatted Junpei with a rolled-up paper. “Aigis said he likes it!”

 “Of course he would, he’s a dog.” Junpei cracked up again, undeterred. He covered his head with a hand, blocking her attacks. “Like he knows what’s cool or not.”

 “Is that relevant?” Aigis asked, bemused. She cocked her head. “He is a dog.”

 “What are you…” Mitsuru glanced at Koromaru and blinked. Then she blinked again. Perched on his head was a white headband with a pair of fluffy, white, distinctly not dog-ears. “Are those cat ears?”

 “The pet shop put out their Halloween costumes,” Yukari defended weakly, averting her gaze. Quietly, she mumbled, “And I…never had a pet before…”

 “I think they’re cute,” Fuuka agreed, squeezing Yukari’s shoulder. She gave a sympathetic smile. “Even Koromaru should get to dress up for Halloween.”

 Mitsuru glanced at the plastic bag by Yukari’s feet. The overly stuffed plastic bag. Just how many costumes did she buy? Koromaru cocked his head, the headband staying on firmly. It was a little cute, she had to admit. Just a little. “I suppose so.”

 “Ugh, is this a girl thing?” Junpei turned to Makoto with a grimace. “You don’t like them too, do you?”

 Makoto crossed his arms, studying Koromaru seriously. As usual, he took his time, scrutinizing the whole affair with more gravity than needed. “They—”

 Cutting him off before he could finish, Junpei groaned. “Why’d I even ask you, Mr. Popularity. Where’s Akihiko when you need him? Wait…” He stared at Koromaru and a wide smile spread across his face. “Hey, Koromaru, I’ll take you for a walk today.”

 “…huh?” Taken aback, Yukari snapped her head toward him. “You hate taking him for a walk.”

 “What lies! As though I could ever hate walking Koromaru. He’s saved my life so many times. Besides, I should do my part to help out.” Already heading toward the door, he whistled lightly as he picked up Koromaru’s leash. “Come on boy! And keep those ears on!”

 Fuuka started at his receding back for a long moment before she leaned closer to Yukari and whispered, “You don’t think he’s—”

 “Picking up girls?” Yukari sighed, crossing her arms as she glared at his departing figure. “Oh, he definitely is going to try.”

 -x-

Winter

 “It’s cold.” Mitsuru adjusted the scarf around her neck. Even layered up as she was, winter’s chilly bite clung to her bones and refused to let go.

 Trotting quickly on the sidewalk in front of her, Koromaru yipped softly, his tail low. Not a single part of him resembled the dog Mitsuru was used to, the excited canine who lived for his evening walks. Then again, with everything that happened in the past year, she couldn’t blame him. Between the numerous sacrifices to stop Nyx, Mitsuru wasn’t sure she could smile anymore either.

 “He says…” Aigis stared blankly at Koromaru. The wind picked up. She blinked. “He says…”

 “It’s okay, I can guess.” Rubbing her hands in front of her mouth, she tried to warm them with her breath. “It’s been a while since anyone took him out for a walk. Everyone’s too busy, I guess.”

 Aigis softly added, “The dorms are really quiet now.”

 “I suppose now that we no longer have to fight, there isn’t really a reason to stay.” Mitsuru forced a crooked smile and patted Aigis on the arm. “I’m glad you came. I can’t remember the last time you left the dorms.”

 “Yeah.” Aigis stared straight ahead. “Normally, he…”

 A long beat passed. Mitsuru lowered her gaze, blinking back tears. It wasn’t too hard to picture a quiet boy with headphones strolling next to them, a sympathetic ear ready for their problems. Loss was a waterfall, ever pouring, and it leaked into every aspect of her life. She had a company she wasn’t ready to manage. Friends whose deaths she couldn’t explain. Everyone would remember Shinjiro as a delinquent. And no one would remember Makoto.

 Even now, she hadn’t managed to remove their nameplates from their doors, the finality of it all too much. She’d peaked in once, just once, the rooms left as though their owners would return at any moment. Shinjiro’s cookbooks stacked messily on desk. A CD case left open on Makoto’s desk.

 Koromaru whined, pressing his body against her leg and Mitsuru crouched down to pet him. “I miss him too,” Mitsuru murmured, burying her hand in his fur. “All of them. My father…” Her voice cracked and despite it all, it was still too hard to talk about him.

 “Miss,” Aigis repeated, stretching out the word. She gripped her chest and looked down at Mitsuru. “Is that what this pain is? Missing? Longing?”

 It was sometimes too easy to forget how new Aigis was to emotions. To being human. Standing up, Mitsuru embraced her gently. “Yeah. That is exactly what it is.”

 -x-

Spring

 The key turned with a soft click. There. It was done. The dorms were closed. Everyone had moved out and they had even managed to clean out every room, including the chairman’s. Somehow, his loss hurt more than anyone else’s, even her father’s. Despite what he did, her feelings toward him couldn’t settle, rage and loss warring with every thought. She wished it was more clear-cut, that it was easier to hate him.

 “Are you done?” Akihiko asked, pulling her out of her thoughts. “Or did you forget something inside?”

 “No, nothing.” Reluctantly, Mitsuru pulled the key out of the lock. Taking a deep breath, she turned around and down the steps. “It’s finally over.”

 “Yeah. The dungeon, that time loop, everything.” Akihiko stuffed his hands in his pockets, walking on her left as they headed to where she’d parked her bike. “Can’t say I won’t miss it; it’s been, what, three years since we moved in?”

 “A little more than that.” Mitsuru brushed her hair off her shoulder. It was longer now than when they’d first met. The distance between them was shorter than was back then too. If she wanted to, she could reach out and touch him. “I always thought it was too big for us.”

 “Too big?” Akihiko snorted, amused. “More like too small—do you know how hard it was to find food when Junpei scavenged the kitchen?”

 “Yes, because I’m the one who had to stock the fridge.” Mitsuru laughed and that also was something that changed. “But it served it’s purpose.”

 “Yeah, I guess it did.” He rubbed the back of his neck, a thoughtful expression crossing his face. “You know, when we first came here, I didn’t really think much of it. But now…it’s home.”

 “Home,” Mitsuru echoed. Yeah, that was the word for it. Home. A bittersweet feeling bloomed in her chest. “I’ll miss it. How close we were to everyone.”

 “Me too.” He patted her shoulder comfortingly. “But my college is just ten minutes from your university, and well…we’re all still friends, right?”

 She reached up and squeezed his hand. It had been scary, after Makoto died, when everyone was drifting apart. Now Aigis and Yukari were roommates, now Fuuka was organizing monthly meetups, now Ken was getting ready to join them in high school. They were still connected, despite everything. “Yes.”

 They were all still friends and the future didn’t look as dark and scary as it used to.

 Reassured, she smiled teasingly. “So, what was that about you becoming a cop?”

[moonlightwinterdxxix]

Awkward brotherly babysitting or pet sitting with Ichimatsu and Choromatsu for the Bits of my Brothers? (And can I say that I'm LOVING your works so far??? The Ventriloquist Vengeance is a story I never knew I needed ajsdlkasf)

Ahhh! Thank so much for the kind words! It means so much to me and I’m glad you’re enjoying it!

This is honestly the first time I’m writing a request, and I hope you like what I’ve managed to make. So without further ado, Nenchuu up the bat!! 💚💜☺️😒

~~~

When Choromatsu lifted the dirty diaper off his face, his eyes went wide. Any horror he would’ve felt beforehand was now a tidal wave of utmost defeat, and he wanted to collapse and freak out and tear each and every strand of hair off his head. But he held back from the sensation, and gulped instead, tossing the diaper to the ground.

The kitten tilted its head at him.

This was a sign, and a bad one. One worse than Osomatsu humiliating him in front of Nyaa-chan, one worse than being identified fapping when he was certain he was alone, one worse than dyeing his hair brown and having everyone see him. No, it was worse than all of that—so much worse. And if anything was worse than that, it was being dead and in heaven, but being discovered having man-woman privacy with one of the guardian angels. Lucifer wasn’t going to be alone there in hell anymore.

No. This dilemma of Choromatsu Matsuno wasn’t that he had a baby’s diaper that spoke and stunk of turd on his face—it was that there was a kitten in front of him. And where cats were involved, so was Ichimatsu.

Putting one-plus-one together, that meant Ichimatsu was home.

And the reason that Choromatsu even had a baby with him was because he was as sure as hell that he was spending his day at home, on his own.

And as if heaven already hated him and his luck couldn’t get any worse, the baby started crying.

Loudly, like a marching band that had been constructed out of chaos. It flailed its small arms so energetically that Jyushimatsu was given competition. It’s wails were higher than Choromatsu’s voice went when he was at an idol concert. The baby cried like its little life depended on it, but as Choromatsu stood there dumbfounded, he couldn’t blame it. He wanted to wail if it meant his life would be saved too.

Choromatsu flinched so hard that every hair in his body stood. He quickly scrambled towards the baby on the couch and cradled it in his arms, trying to calm it down as best as he could before the devil incarnate himself arrived in the room. But with how fruitless his efforts were, and how much louder the baby was becoming, he was only going to be met with failure. He wanted to accompany the baby in its crying, but knowing that it was Ichimatsu that was going to discover the unfortunate corner he had dragged himself towards, he fought for composure.

He continued to sway the baby with a little lullaby that was off-key. It made the baby cry even more.

Then came Ichimatsu’s footsteps. Choromatsu waited for the comment that would run him to the ground, but it never came. A minute or so passed, but it never came. So in his own curiosity and dread, he urged himself to spin his head to the direction of the door, meeting his eyes with Ichimatsu’s.

Ichimatsu merely regarded him with blank eyes, but his lips told a different emotion. And upon meeting CHoromatsu’s gaze, he quickly turned his heels to go.

Oh no, he didn’t.

“Oi! Ichimatsu!” Choromatsu yelled, and cared less if that worsened the baby’s status. To his relief though, Ichimatsu stopped from what might’ve been his beginning trek to the opposite side of their house. “You think you’re getting off free there? Get back here and take the kitten back outside! It’ll disturb the peace of our home.” Oh, as if the baby wasn’t. It was a completely stupid thing to say, especially from someone like him. It was humiliating in a lot of senses, but he had no other option but to accept it.

Dang, Choromatsu just found himself more and more pathetic as the day dragged on.

Ichimatsu’s face reverted to its normal, lackadaisical state. “Are you really the person who has the authority to say that?” he curtly asked.

Cheeks burning, Choromatsu growled, accepting Ichimatsu’s dominance in the situation. “Fine. Do I owe you an explanation if it means you wouldn’t tell the others?”

The baby was still crying. Ichimatsu eyed in silently and nonchalantly before re-entering the room, grabbing the kitten by its black-and-white belly and bringing it to his lap as he sat on the far, opposite side of the sofa. He began to rub his little pet behind its ears, but he was once more focused on Choromatsu in a sense that made Choromatsu curse himself, yet again.

“Go,” Ichimatsu said.

Such bluntness, and it made Choromatsu sick. Of all brothers to be stuck with, it just had to be Ichimatsu. Ichimatsu, who had proved himself as both the darkest man alive and above all, the most awkward companion Choromatsu could ask for. What kind of boundaries would they find themselves sharing this time, huh? What would the record be of how long their silence between conversation would be this time, huh? How long until the rest of the others came home, huh?

Well, he supposed having one was better than five. So for the time being, maybe Ichimatsu wouldn’t be so bad after all. He was quiet, reserved, and he reflected the awkwardness of Choromatsu at a level that was bearable. Plus, he wouldn’t tell the others about this...Would he?

Ichimatsu’s face gave no promises, but no denial either.

Perhaps this was one of those moments when Choromatsu needed to trust his gut.

As a way to begin the explanation, Choromatsu sighed. “Nyaa-chan. I was watching television, and she mentioned in an interview that she liked it when guys were nice to babies. I dunno if it was her speaking or for the sake of her image, but I believed her either way. At first I didn’t care about it, but then I heard crying outside our house. And surprise-surprise, there was a baby on the road, without parents, without anyone or anything. So thinking it was by a miracle of fate that it was from some game-show of some sort where they’re testing the reflexes of the people, I took it in. I didn’t think you’d come home so soon, so I thought I would be spared at least five ‘you’re pathetic’ teases from any of you.”

Ichimatsu snorted without smiling. “You’re pathetic.”

Yes, there it was. It was oddly satisfying as it was painful. “Thank you.” He collapsed at the opposite side of the couch from Ichimatsu, still trying to rock the baby in his arms, and still finding success far, far away from his reach. He tried to rub his index finger in a circle against its stomach, yet nothing changed, as he expected. He sighed. “Ichimatsu, can you do me a favor and get some milk?”

“Hm? For the baby or for the cat?”

“For the baby, of course!” Choromatsu snapped. “Cod, it’s common sense, Darkmatsu!”

“Ah, but this cat is also a baby,” Ichimatsu stated, moving from the ears to the underside of the kitten’s chin. The kitten leaned in to the touch, emitting a small purr that slightly decreased the anxiety in Choromatsu’s heart. Slightly. “The little one would like some milk too, since it's to make his little bones stronger,” Ichimatsu continued, solace evident in him as he petted the small creature. “They say cats have nine lives, but they might as well have one when they’re still this tiny. The world can swallow them whole.”

Letting the words sink in, Choromatsu glanced down at the cat. When he wasn’t seeing it with an image of horror that represented Ichimatsu’s presence, it really was a cute, precious thing that was fragile when set next to the cruelty of the universe. It’s eyes were a wonderful shade of green, and its body was decorated with patches of black that somehow managed to still look clean. But what Choromatsu liked about it most was the heart-shaped piece of black by its neck, so close to where its heart was, beating underneath its pillowy fur.

Translation into reality. Choromatsu was almost touched. Almost.

“Fine, here’s a deal,” Choromatsu stated, extending a fist to the direction of his brother—it wasn’t easy with the squirming mini-human still on his thighs. “Rock-paper-scissors to determine who’s getting the milk.”

“Eh? That childish game?” Ichimatsu huffed, rolling his eyes. “That’s a very idiot eldest-type suggestion, Chorofappyski.”

“It’s fair play,” Choromatsu argued, more from defensiveness than the truth in his phrase. “Just one go.”

Ichimatsu let the cat curl in his lap for a second, then rubbed its furry back so gently that it reminded Choromatsu that Ichimatsu had the ability at all to be gentle. As Ichimatsu brushed it a bit more, his cheeks rosed a little, barely there, but Choromatsu’s eyes were clear enough to notice it. It faded quickly after as Ichimatsu said, “Whatever. One go.”

Ichimatsu extended his own fist, and waved it twice before ending it with two fingers forming scissors.

Choromatsu’s hand was flat as paper.

Ichimatsu leaned back. “Get the milk.”

“Ugh, stupid luck.” Choromatsu lifted himself off the couch, laying the baby on his previous place. His heart nearly skyrocketed when the baby turned and nearly fell off the edge, but it was swift to redeem itself when it rolled over towards the backrest of the sofa. It was as if the weight of the entire world was lifted from his shoulders—his relief.

He tried not to discern the hint of a snicker at Ichimatsu’s side as he stormed out of the shared bedroom and entered the rest of their house, snagging the milk from the fridge with aggression that peaked to a million. Darn their position in the caste system, turning what could’ve been a normal man like him into a NEET...!

When he returned to the room just as grumpy and his attention on the milk, he was saying, “Hey, Ichimatsu, do you know if Mom and Dad have any spare baby bottles from when we were kids left somewhere?” He stopped at the doorway, the carton of milk stilling as he did. “Now, that’s a sight.”

Ichimatsu remained bland, but it was obvious by his lowered brows that his situation was getting to him. “Which one? The fact that the room is an absolute mess, or that your stupid baby is trying to chew off my ear?”

Actually, Choromatsu was distracted by the room, because it was his first time registering what he and his horrible babysitting has done to it. The diapers from earlier were lying discarded on the floor, the stink of it green as it smoked in an unnatural, visible hue. There were mats laid where Choromatsu had tried to change its diapers on the floor, but with no such luck when the naked toddler had stubbornly shoved him away. And everywhere else was tissues. Tissues for its baby-boy bottom, tissues for its tears, tissues for the pee stain that still coated the side of their bookshelf. It was a miracle none of the books were damaged.

Now sending his attention to Ichimatsu, Choromatsu casually said, “I think it likes you.”

“Get it off me,” Ichimatsu ordered lowly, one of his hands already looping around the baby’s naked half. His kitten sat next to him, watching the situation with innocent, naive curiosity. “I don’t want to be touching this thing if it means the cat will run away from me,” Ichimatsu added.

Choromatsu shook his head, pointing. “No, I think that’s better. It’s no longer crying.”

Now the first sign of irritation made itself present in his little brother’s face, and the instinct to kill could be easily traced on him. “Do you want me to kill you first before this baby, Chorofappyski?” he threatened. And with that specific tone of his, they were a word away from the revelation if Ichimatsu was going to carry out his promise or not.

For the sake of his safety, Choromatsu quickly trudged towards his brother, tossing the carton to the floor, and wrapped his hands around the baby’s waist, muttering at it to stop as it continued to clomp its toothless mouth around Ichimatsu’s slobbered ear. It wasn’t too difficult to extract it, but once Ichimatsu was back to his usual, careless self, the baby had reverted back into sobbing that made fatigue sprout in Choromatsu’s form. He slumped down beside Ichimatsu, shutting his eyes and tilting his head back.

But, well, he had to do something else now. He had to feed the baby with this darn milk, if that was going to work, and hopefully, it did. Options were limited at these dark times. That’s why Choromatsu stood—

—but so did Ichimatsu.

“Huh?” they spoke in unison.

Ignoring his brother, Choromatsu took a step closer to the milk on the ground, careful with the baby he had in his arms. He reached out—

—at the same time Ichimatsu did.

Choromatsu retreated—

—and Ichimatsu did too.

They were matching symmetrically, from the motions of their bodies to the youth they had in their arms.

Oh no, here we go again, Choromatsu thought in terror, and by the way Ichimatsu’s features were crumpled, he was thinking the same thing. Neither uttered a whisper as they lingered on their spots, both anticipating movement that they were completely aware was going to be mirrored by the clone in front of them. Choromatsu cringed at the same time Ichimatsu did.

It was just like before. Cod, it was just like before. The awkwardness, the tension, the horror. The only difference was that they had a baby and a kitten to witness their anathema.

“A-Ah, Ichimatsu,” Choromatsu stuttered, the smile plastered all fake and fearful, “would you like to prepare the milk for us? You could if you want—I won’t stop you.”

“No-no-no, I-I’d give the job to you if you wanted,” Ichimatsu answered, the wince in his emotions exposed in his grin. “But it’s fine. If you want me to do it, I won’t mind.”

“No, don’t trouble yourself. I’ll do it.”

It was silence. Silence, and so, so, so much awkwardness.

Cod, it really was going to be like last time. They needed an ice-breaker, now, may it be the arrival of another one of their brothers, or anything that could put an end in the painful awkwardness of their upcoming situation—

The baby vomited.

“Gah!” Choromatsu yelped, staggering backwards and raising the baby away from his body as it continued to release its bile, brown murk that landed as goops on both their floor and Choromatsu’s socks. Choromatsu extended it further, clearing it from killing him more, but not enough for Choromatsu to be safe from the scent of acid that lifted to his nostrils. He turned as green as his track jacket, wanting to puke himself at the horrible-as-crap permutations of food that made up the baby’s bile.

“Hang on!” Ichimatsu called out, running off towards where Choromatsu didn’t bother guessing. He continued to stand there with his arms stretched, one of his sleeves coated in a gross shade matching the current color of the floor. The baby kept going, and Choromatsu wasn’t sure if that was a good thing or not to let it keep going, or if it was a better idea to give it water or its milk to get it to stop.

This. This is why he didn’t care a dang about babies.

“Oh, Cod, that smells so horrible!” Choromatsu gritted out, proceeding to yell, “Ichimatsu! Get some tissues and water or something! Forget about the milk for a bit and help me out here!”

“I got it!” Ichimatsu yelled back, returning a moment later with a bottle of water as he ran towards Choromatsu and the wheezing child. Ichimatsu put a hand underneath the child’s chin, tapping the cleanest spot there with a finger, saying, “Oi, kid! Open your mouth and gargle this dang water, huh?!” His tapping went harder, and the baby found itself irritated by Ichimatsu’s ruthlessness when it began making sounds that symbolized the start of another set of waterworks.

“You idiot!” Choromatsu screamed, yanking the baby away from Ichimatsu. “That’s not how you do it!”

“Are you doing any better?!” he retorted, waving the bottle as its insides smacked against the walls of its container. “You’re covered in its puke! Let me do my thing so that I can help get that abomination of a child away from a fappy loser like you!” He made a grab, but Choromatsu used one of his legs to kick him back. This just made Ichimatsu try to jerk and jostle, shaking the three of them in a hazardous earthquake.

“Are you trying to kill it?!” Choromatsu demanded.

“Not necessarily!” Ichimatsu replied, struggling against Choromatsu’s efforts to keep him off the little boy. He didn’t seem to give any care if he was getting too close to the vomit on Choromatsu’s sleeve. “But admit it! You’d rather have it dead than slobber on you the way it did! Cod, it was biting my ear!”

“Yeah, I would! But that isn’t what we need right now!” Choromatsu scoffed, still using his body as a shield, but not having its effectivity determine positivity for the child as it began whining once again. “Ichimatsu, cut it out! You’re making it worse!”

“So stop being stubborn! Give me the brat!” Ichimatsu yelled, slowing down far from a choice for him.

“No! Are you stupid?!”

“Not as stupid as you!”

“You’re so annoying!”

“You are too! So give me the whiny thing!”

Fed up and unable to take any more of the nonsense, Choromatsu nudged Ichimatsu with all the strength he could muster.

Ichimatsu reeled back, but a high-pitched screech interrupted their banter, and Ichimatsu was spun around so fast that Choromatsu had to remind himself that they were face-to-face just a millisecond ago.

In front of him, Ichimatsu’s anger diminished as a candle would on a windy day. Instead, he was suddenly sympathetic and entirely apologetic, a rare emotion that was emitted from the fourth-born Matsuno son on days that were as abnormally-normal such as this one. “Oh crap, I stepped on its tail!” Ichimatsu cried, kneeling down towards the small kitten so tiny and defenseless on the floor. “I’m so sorry! I didn’t mean—!” But he didn’t get to finish as the kitten hissed at him and scrambled towards their open door.

When Ichimatsu faced Choromatsu again, he was absolutely fuming. “That was all your fault, Choromatsu!”

“Because you kept trying to throttle me and the baby!” Choromatsu snapped, and a second later he realized his mistake too late.

Flames danced in Ichimatsu���s gaze, and without another word he had his fingers spread out like claws, and he was pouncing onto Choromatsu with the feral battle roar of a lion. Choromatsu barely had time to breathe another breath before he was tackled to the floor, nearly dropping the baby and wailing out as punches made imprints on his face and body, Ichimatsu’s screaming a blur of words with the agony that blossomed in his skull.

The shock came first before the retaliation, and Choromatsu went just as mad as he stretched out his arms and grabbed Ichimatsu by his neckline and smacked him off. Both were yelling, and soon both boys were engulfed in a battle cloud as they threw punches and kicks against one another, neither of their sentences registering to the other over their own chaos. Bruises marked their skin, saliva spat out, and bodies were doubling over from the unexpected-expected mercilessness of his brother.

This though was so much better than being stuck in awkwardness, Choromatsu decided, and was so much better than having to care for some stupid, left-on-the-street toddler. The kitten though was far from Choromatsu’s priorities. And with that mindset still stable in his conscience, he and Ichimatsu resumed their brotherly battle of the middle sons.

“Uwa!” the baby suddenly exclaimed, and startled, Choromatsu and Ichimatsu froze as they turned towards it. Choromatsu’s knee was an atom away from Ichimatsu’s gut, and Ichimatsu’s grip was white-knuckle tight in Choromatsu’s hair. Their irritation morphed into confusion when the baby pointed towards its filthy mouth indicatively. Choromatsu, for dealing constantly with Todomatsu’s babyish behavior in high school, was familiar with that gesture—it was hungry.

Choromatsu was first to return to his senses as he finished off his kick on Ichimatsu before heading towards the baby, scooping it from the floor and stretching it out in front of him again. It still drooled colored spit. “Ugh, you little...” He groaned, tucking the baby to his shoulder and coming towards the couch, stopping by the fallen bottle of milk before settling down. He spared no heed towards his brother as he popped the bottle open, too tired to bother searching for a real baby bottle with the way things were going down for him.

Ichimatsu just stood there, arms crossed.

“What?” It was more of a statement than it was a question. “Follow your cat. I’ll handle myself here.”

Ichimatsu made a sound between his teeth. “Are you that stupid? It’s freaking pissed at me.”

“Then redeem yourself with this baby,” Choromatsu said, using the back of his sleeve to rub the mouth of the small boy. He continued to try aligning the mouth of the bottle to the baby’s, relieved flooding him when he matched his target. The throat of the baby bobbed as it swallowed down the milk, shutting its wet eyes and relaxing its tense body. There was no use for Ichimatsu in this situation anymore.

“Or not, since I’m doing well. Acting as your true niisan really does to the job sometimes.” He stopped, letting the baby gulp some more, before letting the baby suck again. The milk was draining fast. “Ichimatsu, you’re just standing there. It’s making me uncomfortable.”

“Well sorry if I’m doing that. You’re making me uncomfortable as well,” Ichimatsu snapped, tone clipped.

“Why? Because I pushed you enough to scare your cat away?”

And that was when he made his second mistake, but unlike earlier, this time he felt bad about it. He watched as Ichimatsu’s nose wrinkled in misery, and he was stomping out of the room before Choromatsu could even apologize. The door slid shut with a mighty clang, and Choromatsu felt the baby flinch in his arms as the last of the milk flicked into nothingness. The baby burped, slumping against Choromatsu’s chest, and shutting its eyes, it yawned.

About a second later it was sleeping, and the sky outside had tinted from blue to gray.

Choromatsu found himself slipping in and out of consciousness as the first drops of a downpour started to approach their hometown. The downpour turned into a pattering that struck against their rooftop, and soon it resorted into a steady rhythm of drumming, the light outside of their window contradicting the time of two-thirty in the afternoon. The cool air that managed to enter the room intertwined itself with Choromatsu’s system, tickling him and allowing drowsiness to climb up him.

He might’ve said that he had successfully fallen asleep when thunder shook him into cautiousness, alerting both himself and the baby that had its scream reverting into wailing. Choromatsu whined and let his back collide against the backrest of the sofa. Was this small creature that hydrated to be able to cry all day? Apparently so, and Choromatsu was too tired to deal with it. But he supposed he had to, since he had given the responsibility to himself.

He prepared to stand—

“Stop. Stay there,” Ichimatsu suddenly ordered, tone low and devoid of all the rage it had carried a few minutes ago. Ichimatsu knelt down on the floor with his brown eyes on the floor, a small redness seeping into his cheeks as he pressed something against the baby’s side. “Here. Take this. Maybe the baby will stop if it hugs this.”

It was a stuffed cat. Specifically, it was a stuffed cat that he had owned for only a few months when Jyushimatsu had won it at the latest spring fair. It was a black cat from a movie Choromatsu had forgotten about over how occupied he was with his latest novel series, but he remembered how often Ichimatsu would hide the toy when any of their brothers was around.

Now it was sitting right in front of him, pressed against the sides of both the baby’s body and Ichimatsu’s palm. Ichimatsu was expectantly silent.

“Ah, thank you, Ichimatsu,” Choromatsu said, taking the plush and inserting it between the nimble fingers of the baby. “Here, hug this. It’ll make you feel so much better.”

Understanding him or not, the baby wrapped itself around the plush, resting its chin on the toy’s neck and finding itself comfortable there. It nestled itself once more against Choromatsu’s chest, gaining its lost slumber as it breathed lightly. Its body rose and fell so steadily in its own harmony, creating dissonance with the pelting of the rain.

“That was nice of you, Ichimatsu,” Choromatsu said quietly as Ichimatsu set himself next to him. “How did you know it would help?”

“I didn’t,” Ichimatsu bluntly stated, bringing his knees to his chest and resting his chin on them. “It was a hunch. Normally a lot of people feel better when they have someo—I mean, something to hug.” Ichimatsu’s face went redder.

“I suppose that’s true,” Choromatsu mused, pretending he didn’t see it. “But that was a nice sacrifice from you, Ichimatsu. I know you really like that cat, but to give it to the baby after it had finished puking and downing milk...” He shuddered, imagining his reaction if one of his personal stuff got into a similar position.

Ichimatsu smirked. “It’s no big deal. I’ll have Shittymatsu wash it when he gets home, or you so the secret stays about our inconvenience.”

Choromatsu scoffed playfully. “I would, but I don’t think so. I’m not touching baby drool.”

“It’s all over your sleeves.”

“Good point.”

They let the rain and the baby’s light snoring be their sound for a while.

“We should get that child to the police station when the rain lightens up,” Ichimatsu said, putting an end to the voiceless session. “Get it to its parents, if it has any. Eh, the police would do it, as long as it isn’t Officer Yatsugashira anymore.”

He chuckled. “Yeah, I agree with you. And before the rest of our brothers get home.” Choromatsu went rigid, his guilt coming back as he said, “Ichimatsu, I’m sorry about what I said earlier, and for pushing you so hard. It was my fault you stepped on the cat. It should’ve been mad at me instead of you.” He let his shame overpower him as he waited for Ichimatsu to answer, to break the chain that had buckled itself in Choromatsu’s stomach.

“I’m sorry too,” Ichimatsu finally said, honesty in his voice. “I was being insensitive about the kid earlier. I suppose that having an ill feeling in his stomach isn’t his fault for vomiting. You were right. I should’ve held back on him.”

Choromatsu smiled at him with his angular smile. “I guess we both get into our own kind of trouble when we’re home alone, aren’t we?”

Ichimatsu dipped his chin with a matching smile of agreement. “Mhm.”

The sky continued to rumble, to weep uncontrollably. To close it out, Choromatsu said, “Did you find your cat after you went out? Is it still mad at you?” He sounded melancholic to his own ears.

“Yup. At the toilet. Managed to get in and shut the door on its own, magnificently. It didn’t let me get close to it at all, so I left it there.” He said it with a bluntness that made his mood indecipherable. Choromatsu deciphered it enough.

“We should get it out of there when we can, and take it back out before Mom or Dad gets back. Do you think it’s as lost as this baby is? Do you think it has a family waiting for it?”

Ichimatsu’s eyes went downcast. “It has to. I wouldn’t want to imagine something like it to be orphaned. But I won’t be surprised. Most of the cats I find in the alleyway are loners anyway, no matter how old. Animal parents just tend to be more neglectful of their offspring than human parents are. Well, some human parents.”

“Yeah. That’s too bad.”

Choromatsu suddenly understood then why babies were so important. Babies signified the creation of a new life, a new mind, a new purposeful thing to enter the world. Some lived to find galaxies in their eyes, to have papers with their names, to have friends and families that made more life that served as hope for thousands of upcoming generations in their cyclical world entitled as life. They grew to become scientists, seeing reality’s codes through intelligence. They grew to become writers, penning lessons that built up the human being into an impenetrable force. They grew to learn love and to give love, when romance, family, and friendship is introduced when they are feeling alone.

Babies became part of the future, and built it.

But not all babies lived long enough to be that. Some parents refused the responsibility of having a child, and killed them off mercilessly with the power of abortion. Some babies entered the world lifeless, miscarriage being the curse that invited them into the breathing world that way they were. Others were unfortunate enough to be caught in nature’s mishaps, fires, storms, and many more calamities taking away their lives before they could be lived. And because of that, there were so many chances of the world’s redemption that bit the dust, letting it flow in its brutal pace.

That’s what made babies special, and why their lives were important. As much as a human he was, so were they, and they held the probabilities to do the impossibilities many people in the present might not be able to accomplish.

And the baby in his arms was part of that crowd.

“Choromatsu-niisan,” Ichimatsu said, bringing him out of his reverie as he got up, “the rain’s lightening up. We should get going before the idiot eldest returns announcing his next Pachinko loss.”

“Right. We should.”

Choromatsu carefully lifted himself from the sofa, careful not to stir the baby from its sleep before accompanying Ichimatsu outside the bedroom. They took a turn towards the bathroom, Ichimatsu flicking the lights on, and Choromatsu saw the cat. It really was a delicate thing, so tiny against the corner of the room. It’s shadow on the wall alone made it look like a monster was looking after it, ready to bite with a single movement. It made Choromatsu’s heart hurt.

“Hey,” Ichimatsu cooed kindly, approaching the kitten with so much compassion that it was barely the Ichimatsu he knew anymore. “We’re going to take you home, okay? We’re going to take you back to your family. Won’t that be great?” Ichimatsu’s hurt from the kitten’s rejection was audible, and Ichimatsu’s forgiveness didn’t do the trick to calm Choromatsu’s shame.

The kitten lifted its vibrant gaze towards them, pulling back.

“Oh Cod...” Ichimatsu whimpered helplessly.

Choromatsu bowed solemnly.

“Uwa?” The baby, awake, shimmied in Choromatsu’s arms. It shook until Choromatsu had to bring it down to the floor, where it crawled towards the direction of the kitten after leaving Ichimatsu’s doll on the ground. Neither Choromatsu nor Ichimatsu made a move to stop it when the baby started petting the kitten’s back with the same kindness and love that Ichimatsu gave it. It was a touching sight as the kitten leaned into the baby’s hands, purring and meowing in a splinter of a pitch.

It was a cute sight that brought the two speechless for a while. Speechless because it was heartwarming, it was adorable, it was unexpected, and it was innocent. The baby laughed as the kitten purred.

“I don’t know what to say,” Choromatsu said, awed. “Only that today I have seen too many things I never thought I would see.”

“Mhm,” Ichimatsu hummed, voicing his agreement.

“Should we wait a little before going, let them play with each other for a little longer?”

Ichimatsu’s answer to that came in variations, and he was stuck without a proper answer. “Won’t we be awkward together?” he asked instead.

Choromatsu smiled at him, placing a hand on his shoulder reassuringly in a solid reply. And Ichimatsu grinned at him in return, placing his own hand on Choromatsu’s back.

Maybe spending the day with each other wasn’t going to be so bad after all.