#well one of the dudes just straight up ran a left turn on red directly in front of a cop

[tittyinfinity]

I saw multiple people run a red light at EVERY traffic light intersection I was at and was like ????? and then I realized that they replaced the traffic lights with new ones & the new ones turn from yellow to red WAY faster than the old ones

[fukurodianthus]

Cotton Candy Kisses

Synopsis: Let’s get one thing straight, confessions aren’t Ushijima Wakatoshi’s cup of tea, and the same goes for you when it comes to dealing with rejections. But then, your crackhead friends (who are done with watching two emotionally constipated fools pine for each other for two years) decide to take matters into their own hands. 

 Its a recipe for disaster, topped off with cherry coke and cotton candy.

Genre: Fluff, (a light sprinkle of angst thrown in), friends to lovers AU, mutual pining

Trigger warnings: Just a smol makeout scene lmao (not explicit), swearing(meanwhile, my mom: *disappointed brown parent noises*)

Pairing: Ushijima Wakatoshi x fem! reader

Word count: 3k+

Author’s note: I planned to release this on valentine’s day, but my exam schedule said “no❤️”. N E ways, didnt get time to proofread it, so excuse the painful amount of errors it may have. (More unnecessary rambles notes at the end!)

𝐈

“Toshi, Terushima asked me out on a date.”

“Terushima as in Terushima Yuuiji from Johzenji? The one with piercings?” Ushijima sat on the gym floor, busy tying his shoelaces.

“Yeah.”

He sat facing away from you, so you had no way of telling how well he was taking this news.

Not like it mattered anyway.

For the last two-years, you had kept dropping subtle hints that you liked him. Hell, if baking heart-shaped red-velvet cookies for him every valentine’s day hadn’t given him the slightest hint that your feelings for him weren’t exactly platonic, probably nothing could make the stoic ace aware of your feelings.

Unless you directly said it to his face.

Wakatoshi, I like you.

Four words. There were just these four words standing between Wakatoshi and your undeclared feelings. Four words could free you from the shackles of this unrequited love that had been weighing you down for the past two years.

But what was the point anyway? He’d reject you, just like he rejected Ririka. The Ririka Hirai, captain of the girls’ volleyball team, the ace who wielded magic in her hands. Let alone the guys from Shiratorizawa, even boys from other prefectures were totally whipped for her. He didn’t even bat an eyelid before a firm ‘No’ rolled off his lips. She hated crying in front of others, but the redness in her eyes and her swollen eyelids made it obvious that her spirit had been crushed by the rejection. Her previous outgoing, warm and friendly nature had vanished within a few seconds as she withdrew herself into her shell.

If this is what rejections did to people, then you were fine with being crushed under the weight of unrequited love. And you didn’t have a Semi Eita in your life like she had, so there wouldn’t be anybody to help you out of your wallowing self-pity.

Your mind wandered back to your interaction with her yesterday, how she had pulled you into the locker room, firm hands wrapped around your wrists with no intention of letting go. You were reminded of her disastrous plan, and how you’d stupidly agreed to go along with it.

𝐈𝐈

(𝟐 𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐬 𝐚𝐠𝐨)

“You love him, don’t you Y/N?” she asked you, cocking her head to her side as she twirled the green roots of het bubblegum colored hair. Why was she so oddly insistent on dying her hair like a meth-addicted oompa loompa? And the bigger question was, how the fuck did she look so good?

“I don’t know, Riri.” What did she expect to hear? How could you say that you weren’t half as brave as she’d been? You’d rather tend to the wounds that unrequited love caused than deal with the empty-black void of self-loathing, insecurities and embarrassment that rejection left behind.

“Y/N, I’m not a fool. I can see the way your eyes light up when he’s around.”

“So what? What the fuck should I do? Confess my feelings and get rejected? I’d rather wither under the weight of my undeclared feelings than have my soul crushed by a rejection from my best friend, thanks.” You knew you were wrong; you knew you should let go of these useless, painful feelings by confessing. Hearing him reject you would put the nail in the coffin of your one-sided love and you’d finally be free.

But you didn’t want to be free. Cowardice had this odd feeling of comfort attached to it, and you’d gotten used to it.

“Y/N, I’m not here to fight with you over a stupid himbo of a guy. It just hurts me to see you go through the same pain I had gone through. I’m just here to look out for you. I’ll give you my advice whether you want it or not, and its up to you if you’ll take it.”

You looked away. You knew that whatever she was going to say would probably make sense, she was such a smartass after all. She was never wrong, as much as you hated admitting it. Why was she such a good friend, why did she have to be so nice? It pissed you off.

“Ushijima is bad at this entire thing of love and friendships, its probably not big news to you, is it? His parents’ divorce ruined his faith in love.” She cleared her throat, trying to hide the tremble in her voice. “He doesn’t know how this entire thing of love and feelings work. Loving him is difficult, it’s like expecting an iceberg to provide you with warmth. But…” her voice trailed off.

“But what?”

“I think he likes you. He’s never looked at anyone the way he looks at you. He never saved a seat for me at lunch the way he does for you. He acts...weird around you.”

“That’s bullshit Riri, he does that stuff for me because I’m his team's manager, you know?”

“You’re just as dense as him. Perfect! You’d make a great couple” she giggled, fluttering her long, black lashes.

“Why did you confess to him if you thought he liked me?”

“Oh, I was coming to that. You see, I was a hundred percent sure he wouldn’t like me back, so I thought I might as well get these stupid feelings of my chest and move on, you know? It still hurt a lot for a few days, though. Rejections sucks, that’s nothing new. And I kind of liked Semi, so it felt like I was emotionally cheating on him if I still liked Ushijima. So, I finally confessed to him after getting rid of my feelings for Ushiwaka.” She pressed her lips together and looked away, a faint blush blossoming on her cheeks.

“You and Semi are…”

“We’re a thing now, yeah.”

“I’m so happy for you Ririka!” you practically squealed, squishing her reddened cheeks.

“We had a talk yesterday and we decided that we can no longer bear to see you two emotionally constipated dummies pining for each other anymore, so we’re taking matters into our own hands.”

“What?” Your stared at her with widened eyes, praying she didn’t come up with any stupid plans to make the situation worse.

“Do you know Terushima from Johzenji?”

“Yeah, kinda, that tongue-piercing dude with an undercut, right?”

“He’s my friend and he has agreed to helping us.”

“Oh hell no.”

“I don’t take no for an answer, I’m sorry. Babe, you can come out now.”

You choked on your own spit as you saw Semi climbing out of Ririka’s locker.

“How the fuck did you even fit him in there? Was he there the whole time? What made you think sneaking your boyfriend into the girl’s locker room was a good idea?”

“Honey, that’s too many unnecessary questions, I ain’t answering them. And there’s nobody around. So, I don’t think we’ll get in any trouble as long as you don’t snitch.”

“I’m not going to snitch.”

“That’s what I thought. Now babe, tell her about our plan.”

Semi went over with the details of their plan.

Needless to say, it was a recipe for disaster, you were sure of it.

Having an affinity for all things disastrous, you agreed to their plan.

*flashback ends*

𝐈𝐈𝐈

(𝐏𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐦𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭)

“Y/N, you there?” Ushijima was done with tying his shoelaces a while ago and now stood in front of you, his tall frame cowering over you.

You snapped out of your trance.

“Yeah, I was j-just busy thinking about some stuff.” You smoothed out your skirt and gripped your bag tightly, and looking down at your feet. You could feel his gaze on your face, but you couldn’t bring yourself to look him in the eye.

“Stuff as in…Terushima? Were you thinking about him?”

You were taken aback by his uncharacteristically direct question and looked into his eyes. His gaze flickered between your eyes and your lips; his brows furrowed together in…concern?

Your imagination must be getting better of you.

“Yeah, I was thinking about our date, tomorrow.”

His eyes seemed duller than usual, lacking its usual lustre.

“He doesn’t have a reputation for being loyal, you know.” His words seemed long-drawn, forced, painful. As if it physically hurt him to get these words to roll of his tongue.

He ran his fingers through his greasy olive-brown hair, his gaze still fixed on you. You became painfully aware of the silence in the empty gym room. Why was your heart beating so loudly? Was his heart beating just as loud?

His breath hitched as you stepped closer to him. You noticed the way his sweat-drenched shirt clung to his body, highlighting his well-built frame, the way his lips glistened when he licked his lips, the way his tousled hair stuck to his forehead. You almost brushed those stray strands off his face. Almost.

You spoke in a low tone, almost in a whisper. This moment seemed fragile, like treading on thin ice. It felt as if you both were in a trance and any loud noise would snap you back to reality. You wouldn’t mind being stuck in this trance for a few eternities. “Terushima is a player, a heartbreaker. You think I don’t know that? Maybe I just want to have my heart broken, Toshi. Isn't it better than loving someone who will never love me back?”

He stared at you with a blank, unreadable expression. You noticed how his adam’s apple bobbed up and down when he gulped, his neck and collarbones glistening with sweat.

He had no business being this hot, godamnit.          

“I just remembered, Coach Washijo wanted to have a talk with me-“ he took a step back, breaking eye contact with you.

“Coach Washijo is on a sick-leave for a week, Toshi.”

“Ah okay, right.” He turned on his heels and stormed out of the gym, the tips of his ears covered in a faint red glow.

How long will you keep running away Wakatoshi?

𝐈𝐕

(𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐧𝐞𝐱𝐭 𝐝𝐚𝐲)

“Yeah, chocolate will be fine.”

Terushima handed you the ice-cream cone, flashing his iconic toothy grin at you.

This park of the amusement park was quieter and calmer than the other parts. You were seated on a bench beside a  mermaid shaped fountain. Behind you, far off in the distance was a Ferris wheel, lit up in pink and red neon lights, a classic decoration that was put up in this park every valentine’s day.

“Want anything else, babe?” He sat down beside you on the bench, wrapping his arms around your shoulders.

“Dude, you don’t have to put on such a show, you know? You don’t have to make it so realistic.”

He threw his head back and let out another one of his irritating laughs. It was pretty cute, even though you’d never admit it aloud.

“Y/N who said I’m pretending? When Riri asked me to take you out on a fake date to make lover boy Toshi jealous, I thought this would be a pretty good opportunity to score a date with a cute girl, it doesn’t matter if the date is fake or not.”

“You even bought a couple’s ticket, huh?”

“This amusement park has a special valentine’s day offer for couples, fifty percent off for each ride, aint that crazy? I was just saving my coins princess.”

“I swear to god, call me that one more time and you’ll find my foot up your ass-“

“Ooh, kinky!”

It physically hurt you to not punch him and wipe that cheesy grin off his face. “I can’t handle you Terushima-” You hungrily bit down on the ice-cream, gobbling it up in a matter of a few seconds.

Terushima's nose scrunched up in disgust. “The fuck Y/N, who bites ice-cream like that! Are you a caveman or something?"

“Aw babe, didn’t you know? I’m not like other girls.” You dramatically flicked a stand of your hair, as your pretentious, catty tone drew a chuckle from him.

“C’mon now, fake date or not lets a have a good time! I’m done sitting around on this bench, we’re in an amusement park for fuck’s sake Y/N!” He took his black leather jacket off, flinging it around his shoulders, his white shirt clung to his skin. He looked like a stereotypical bad boy out of a wattpad book written by a 16-year-old. You bit down the urge to make a sarcastic comment about his appearance.

“Get up now, you lazy butt.” He offered you a hand.

You slapped his hand away and stood up, brushing the small remnants of the ice-cream cone off your plaid yellow dress.

“Damn, you feisty.”

“Serves you right, pisshead.”

He was about to make a snarky retort when his eyes suddenly landed on someone standing in the crowd beside the ferris wheel. “Looks like lover boy is here.”

“You sure its him?”

“A hundred and twenty percent ma’am! Now go get your man!” He pressed a chaste kiss to your forehead before winking at you. “That’ll get him riled up enough.”

“You’re such a little shit-”

“Shut up, he’s coming here, go talk to him.”

You turned around on your heels to see Ushijima making his way towards you.

“Hey! What you doing here Toshi?” You tried putting on a surprised expression, but after seeing how Terushima snickered at you, you understood that you probably overdid it.

“Uhm, did I interrupt your d-date?” Ushijima looked painfully flustered. His eyes searched your face, looking for signs of annoyance or anger.

He was surprised at how happy you looked. Didn’t girls get annoyed when someone interrupted their dates? Ah, women, such complex creatures, all mysteries of the world seem irrelevant when compared to the mystery of a woman’s psyche.

“No, not at all! Do you want to tell me something?” You cocked you head and batted your eyelashes at him playfully.

But he remained silent, lips tightly pressed together as his eyes kept flickering between Terushima and you.

“Hey Yuuji, I’d like to talk to Toshi in private, maybe you could…you know-“

“Ah that was stupid of me! I’ll leave you two to yourselves. I’ll be at the Haunted Mansion if you need me, a friend of mine works there as a part time zombie.” He pointed finger guns at you and winked. "See ya later sweet cheeks!" You saw his silhouette fade into the distance.

It was only you and Ushijima now.

The golden glow from the setting sun and the faint pink lights from the faraway Ferris wheel illuminated his face in a rose-gold glow. He sported a red flannel shirt, more specifically the one you had bought for him while shopping with Tendou last summer.

He looked ethereal.

You cleared you throat. “Toshi? You wanted to tell me something, right?”

He looked started, unsure of himself. You looked at him with anticipation, your heart almost leaping out of your ribcage.

“Y/N, for the next match Yamagata will replace Akakura as the libero because he twisted his ankle in in the hallway today.”

Unbeknowst to you, Ririka and Semi hid behind an ice-cream truck in the distance, keeping an eye on you both. They could hear small excerpts of your conversation. So, when they heard Ushijima saying something about ‘match’ and ‘libero’, they let out frustrated groans. “That dense fucker messed up yet again.” they whispered under their breaths in unison.

Disappointment flashed across your face. Was he serious? How dense could a guy possibly be?

“You came this far, interrupted my date to tell me this, Toshi? You could just have messaged me, you know?” Your voice trembled, vision blurring with tears.

So much for love.

You felt stupid, you wanted to slap yourself across your face for being naïve enough to believe that Ushijima Wakatoshi could ever reciprocate your feelings.

Stupid, stupid, stupid!

You started to walk away, wiping your eyes with the sleeves of your dress, when you felt a strong arm coil across you waist.

Wakatoshi pulled you close, and in an instant his lips were on yours. You didn’t spare a second thought before kissing him back, your lips hungrily melting into his. You grazed your tongue across his lower lip as he pushed you against the fountain, one hand placed on the small of your back pulling your body closer and the other under your dress, grazing your thigh. Your fingers aimlessly hovered over his chest before gently tugging him by the collar of his shirt.

When he finally pulled away, you both stared at each other, panting breathlessly, hair drenched from the light spray of water cascading down the fountain. The warmth of his lips still lingered on your mouth.

The sound of his voice snapped you out of your dreamlike trance. “Tendou and Semi told me that I wasn’t worthy enough of being Shiratorizawa’s ace if I chickened out of professing my feelings to the girl I’ve liked for two years. How could I sit back and watch that guy from Johzenji steal you away? I like you Y/N, and I'm tired of pretending that I don't."

You were about to respond when Semi’s voice rang out from behind the ice-cream truck.

“Oh my god Riri! Did you see that? They kissed! I’m so proud of my miracle boy-”

“Keep it down you dimwit, or they’ll hear us-“

You let out a soft chuckle and took Ushijima’s hand in yours. “Wouldn't it be very surprising if Semi and Riri suddenly popped out from behind that ice-cream truck, Toshi? But that's totally impossible right? Not like they'd ever eavesdrop on us-"

Semi and Ririka slowly made their way towards you, eyes downcast with guilt.

“We didn’t mean to intrude-” Semi started to explain.

“Shut your trap, you shitheads, we wouldn’t be together if it weren’t for you.” You chirped, drawing them into a tight embrace.

“What do you mean Y/N?” Ushijima stared at you, confused. You stifled a chuckle.

“Well, we actually made a plan…” Ririka started explaining.

After Semi, Ririka and you explained your entire scheme to him, he stared at you, confused, open mouthed.

“You could just have told me, you know? All this to get me jealous?”

“I was scared of getting rejected, Toshi.”

“I’d never reject you!”

“And how the fuck was I supposed to know that? You never showed any signs of recognition at my hints, how was I supposed to know you liked me? You huffed.

“Well, I suppose I…nevermind.”

“No, finish your sentence!”

“Would you like to ride the Ferris Wheel, Y/N?”

“Thought you’d never ask. But first, buy some cotton candy for your lady love.” He took his hand in yours, interlacing your fingers with his. "Anything for my girl."

𝐕

Ushijima’s lips softly grazed you neck, his hot breath fanning across your collarbones.

The soft pink light from the Ferris Wheel lit his face up.

Wiping a piece of leftover cotton candy from your lips, he suddenly asked, “Why do you love me, Y/N?”

You thought of the times he saved extra bento boxes for you after lunch when you refused to eat properly, how he’d stayed awake, sitting in your bedside chair, taking care of you as your body burned in fever, how he’d laugh at your stupid jokes even though they weren’t anything close to being funny, or how he’d show up at your door with cotton candy and cherry coke whenever you were under the weather.

You pressed your lips against his before whispering,

“What’s there to not love, Toshi?”

Author’s rambles notes pt. 2: Ririka Hirai isn’t a very well-known character, but I decided to add her anyways because the girl’s volleyball team characters deserve some love too! You can find more about her here (if it very isnt obvious already, I find her character absolutely adorable!)

N E ways, I hope you enjoyed reading this fic(which has absolutely 0 grammatical errors and i totally didnt write this while overdosing on an unhealthy amount of coffee at three in the morning)

Reblogs would be highly appreciated!

[outerbankswriting]

Could it be? Chapter 3 (JJ x Reader)

JJ x Reader

CH.1 - CH.2

Description: She has a crush on JJ, but he has always seen her as another one of the “dudes”, or  at least that’s what she thinks so she just doesn’t even try anymore, until things start to shift between the two of them. (A/N: I’M NOT GOOD AT DESCRIPTIONS BUT THESE IS JUST WHAT I WOULD LOVE TO HAPPEN IN OUTER BANKS WITH JJ)

CHAPTER 3

The sound of the birds chirping outside your window woke you up. A classic sound that never failed to make you fall more in love with your mornings.

As you opened your eyes, you saw a pair of of tanned and strong arms wrapped around you, which belonged to the boy with the golden hair you loved so much. He was peacefully asleep, his chest slowly rising up and down while his eyelashes fluttered every now and then. You carefully examined his face and felt a wave of anger fill you up as you stared at the cuts and bruises all over his cheeks.

The bruise on his left eye was turning purple and you don’t know what instinct got into you that made you softly trace your fingers across his face, careful to not hurt him or wake him up, but you failed at it.

His eyes slowly opened up and yours widened up, and you felt yourself starting to blush.

“I’m so sorry I didn’t mean to wake you up,” you covered your mouth, “did I hurt you?”

He smiled lazily and to your surprise, pulled you even closer to him.

“Not really,” his voice was raspy and he closed his eyes again, “it actually feels nice, can you keep doing it?”

You bit your lip to contain the smile that wanted to get out and instead poked his side, making his eyes snap wide open.

“Hey! What was that for?!”

“Get your lazy ass up.”

As much as you wanted to stay in bed with JJ, the two of you were supposed to meet with the Pogues in less than an hour for breakfast and you knew they would get suspicious if neither of you showed up. Even though, no one knew about your feelings for JJ and probably would never even imagine the two of you being something.

“I can skip breakfast,” he groaned, “your bed is too comfy, I want to stay here.”

“No you won’t skip breakfast.”

You got out of bed, pulled your hair into a quick ponytail and headed into your bathroom to brush your teeth and wash your face. JJ was still laying down in bed with his eyes closed and you took the time to admire the sight in front of you. The sunlight making his blonde hair look golden and him looking angelic even with his face all bruised up.

“Come on JJ, get up!”

He groaned again but finally got out of bed after you threatened to poke his sides again. He went to the bathroom to get ready while you were deciding on which swimsuit to wear.

“Why do you have so many lotions here?” He said while brushing his teeth and clearly making a mess all over your sink.

“They’re not only lotions,” you grabbed the expensive cream he was holding and placed it back on the counter, “they’re also creams, toners and liquid soaps all part of my skincare routine.”

“Do you even need all of this?” He dried his face with your pink towel, making you giggle.

“Of course I do,” you grabbed the tiny cream container and tapped some eye cream on your under-eyes, “I’m practically out in the sun all day, I need to take care of my skin alright?”

“I just put sunscreen on and call it a day.” He curiously stared at you as you finished prepping your face.

“At least you put sunscreen on.”

“What happens if you don’t wear all that?” He was still staring at you, the crease between his eyebrows showing up.

“I would get wrinkles pretty fast and the sun could damage my skin a lot,” you put some lip balm on and felt JJ’s eyes staring at your lips, “my face would be an ugly mess.”

“I doubt you could ever look ugly.” He said carelessly and you felt your cheeks turn red.

JJ was never one to compliment your looks directly to you and if he ever did, it would be as a compliment from a nice friend but nothing more.

“Right,” you cleared your throat, “well talking about skincare, how are your bruises doing?”

He sat on your bed as if he were a child waiting for his mother to sit down next to him to check on him while you went to grab your soothing cream.

“They’re alright, I don’t even feel them.”

“Well show me.”

He slowly took his shirt off and you could tell he was still in pain, especially from the bruises on his stomach near his ribcage. The bruises were a deeper red and purple than last night, looking way worse.

“Oh JJ,” you shook your head and were careful to not hurt him as you rubbed the soothing cream over the bruises, “they look so bad.”

“They’re okay, nothing I can’t handle.”

“You know the others are going to ask about this right? It’s going to be impossible to hide them.”

“I’ll just tell them I ran into some Kooks.”

He put his shirt back on after you were done with the soothing cream and raised an eyebrow at you as you were still standing in front of him, looking at him with a worried look on your face.

“Y/N I’m alright, let’s go.”

He stood up from sitting on the bed and stopped right in front of you since you weren’t moving. You noticed how tall he was next to you and cleared your throat after also noticing how close you were again.

“You can’t go back home.” You looked straight into his eyes which went softer.

“Maybe not tonight but eventually I’ll have to,” he placed his hand comfortably on your shoulder, “he is my father and I can’t stay with John B forever.”

“Then stay with me.”

You were quick to say that. You were scared his father would hit him again, you didn’t want him to go back and be unsafe at a place that wasn’t supposed to feel that way.

“Y/N you kn-“

“At least for this week,” you grabbed his hand, “while my parents are away, come on.”

He paused and hesitated for a minute, not breaking eye contact with you.

“Alright then.”

Once he agreed you couldn’t help the smile taking over your face which made JJ smile back at you. He was secretly way too excited to stay with you for a whole week.

You hugged him, careful to not hurt his bruises but he pulled you closer, tightening the hug without caring about the pain coming from his bruised abdomen.

“Well I’ll go get changed.”

You broke the hug and went inside the bathroom to change into a dark blue bikini and some light denim shorts since you were spending the day at the beach with your friends.

Once the two of you were ready, you headed to the beach to meet your friends and while you were walking you argued whether to tell them about JJ staying with you or coming up with a lie.

“I think they’ll eventually find out.” You desperately ran your fingers through your hair.

“It’s only for a week,” JJ grabbed a beer from your beach bag ignoring the slap you gave him on the hand for wanting alcohol so early in the morning, “we can cover it up.”

“Why should we lie about you staying with me? It just makes the whole thing look suspicious when it isn’t.”

“Because if I had to stay somewhere it would be with John B since you know,” he paused and bit his lip awkwardly, “it’s not like I sleep at girls’ houses if I’m not banging them.”

“Excuse me, what are you trying to say?” You felt insulted for some reason.

“That they would assume we are sleeping together and you know about the no Pogue on Pogue mack-“

“Why would they assume that?!” You playfully punched him on the shoulder, “We’re friends JJ, no one’s going to think that.”

“I’m just saying that’s what I’m assuming they would think.” He jokingly raised his arms as if he were a victim.

“No they wouldn’t.”

“Why are you so closed off at the idea of them thinking that we’re banging?”

“First of all, stop saying banging and uh I don’t know it’s just crazy JJ, they would never believe it.”

“So you wouldn’t do it?”

“What are you talking about?” Your voice trembled and you cursed yourself for it.

“You wouldn’t sleep with me?”

His words almost made you choke and stop walking. Your heart was beating faster than ever and you tried your best to not let the nerves get the best of you and the fact that JJ was eagerly waiting for you to respond just made you even more nervous.

“JJ what even are y-“

“I’m just messing with you Y/N,” he chuckled as you were stuttering with your words, “I think we both know it could never happen, you know.. it’s a crazy thing as you said.”

“Okay that hurt.” You thought.

“Right,” you cleared your throat and faked a laugh, “it’s crazy.”

“I just don’t want them to know about my dad you know?” He gulped down his beer, “So I think it’s best if they just think I’m still staying at home.”

“Alright then, it’ll be our secret.”

He smiled at you and wrapped an arm around your shoulder pulling you closer to him.

“It was about time you showed up!” Kie waved at the two of you while Pope finished drinking an orange juice.

“Literally cannot believe you’re drinking beer so early in the morning.” Pope pointed at JJ’s finished beer.

“Tried to stop him but he’s stubborn.” You said as you sat down next to Kie.

“Oh look the queen of stubbornness is calling me stubborn,” JJ mocked you, “I just had to start the party earlier.”

“Right, at 11 in the morning.” Kie rolled her eyes at him.

“Was the tourist girl you slept with last night into BDSM or why is your face all bruised man?” John B raised an eyebrow at JJ, knowing he had clearly gotten into a fight.

You grabbed an orange juice from Sarah’s bag and tried your best to avoid eye contact with JJ and faked your best “what’s going on?” look.

“Unfortunately I ran into some Kooks and wasn’t even able to bang any girl,” JJ smiled and you felt sick to the stomach realising how good of a liar he was and wondering if he had lied to you before about his fights with the Kooks when it had probably been his father, “but I handled them like a champion.”

“Please tell me it wasn’t my stupid brother.” Sarah sighed.

“I won’t deny anything.” JJ shrugged and Sarah grunted.

“You know ever since you broke up with him, he’s been getting into more fights with us.” Pope shook his head at you.

“It’s not her fault man.” JJ was quick to snap at Pope.

“It’s because he’s still in love with you,” Sarah said to you as she finished her sandwich, “and he can’t stand the fact that you’d rather hang with Pogues.”

“Well I can imagine,” Kie added, “both his sister and his ex-girlfriend being part of this group, which not only consists of Pogues but also Pogues who hate him.”

“Talking about annoying Kooks,” John B joined the conversation again, “I’m afraid they’re coming to the beach party tonight.”

“For hating the Pogues they sure love the parties we throw.” Pope shook his head.

After finishing your breakfast and preparing everything for tonight’s party at the beach, all of you decided to head to your own places to get ready for the party.

“Are we getting ready together Y/N?” Kie asked as she helped you clean the mess everyone had made on the beach.

“Um I don’t know Kie,” you tried to catch JJ’s attention to know if he was heading to your place but he was too busy trying to jump into Pope’s back, “I have to organise some stuff at home.”

“Well if you change your mind you can go to my place, my dad made some delicious lasagna.” She winked at you and made her way home.

You walked towards JJ and Pope to try and figure out JJ’s plan for the night.

“So,” you smiled at your friends, “are y’all hanging out before the party?”

JJ was quick to realise what you were trying to find out.

“Yeah I’m heading over to Pope’s.”

“Wanna come?” Pope asked you.

“No thanks, I have some stuff to do at home before the party.” You smiled at your friend’s offer and he nodded.

“Hey Y/N,” JJ grabbed your arm and pulled you further from Pope so he couldn’t hear, “before heading to the party I’ll quickly go to your place to drop my bag with all my clothes and stuff for the week okay?”

You nodded at him and waved goodbye to your friends.

You took a shower as soon as you got home and decided to clean up your room, not because of JJ or anything right? 

You played some music as you did your makeup and waited for JJ to let you know he was outside so you could let him in and the two of you could make your way to the party, but time went by and he still hadn’t shown up.

Kiara texted you telling you to get earlier to the beach so you could help her organise the recycling bins to accumulate the plastic the party would leave so you figured JJ wouldn’t come any time soon and decided to just leave to the party on your own.

As you were closing the front door of your house, you heard someone moving behind you and figured it would be JJ, but as soon as you turned around, you were met with the one person you wanted to see the least.

Rafe Cameron.

---------

CH.4

A/N: this one was a pretty long one! sorry for any grammar mistakes, I’ll make sure to fix them tomorrow. thank u so much for everyone letting me know you’re liking the story so far! LET ME KNOW WHAT YOU THINK! sending love.

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taglist: @babygirlizz​ - @atabigail - @poguesrforlife​ - @behappyitsemmalie​ - @jane-dough - @yeeedolan - @dontjinx-it - @sofiaconlaz - @fangirlwithme​ 

[dr-spencer-reids-queen]

Blood Hungry: Part Two

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Reader

Word Count: ~1.8k

Warnings: canon violence, canon language, canon talk of death, methods of kill, fluff and angst

Author’s Note: I do not own anything from Criminal Minds. All credit goes to their respective owners. If there is any warnings that exceed the normal death/kills from the show, I will list them. If you’ve seen the show, then it’s the same level of angst unless otherwise stated.

Feedback is gold, and it’s the only currency I take

“The guy the kid described definitely sounds like a tweaker,” you say once you, Spencer, and the cops show back up at the police station.

“Pull the files of all the methamphetamine arrests in the past six months,” the sheriff asks of the deputy.

“Will do.”

“We should narrow the suspect list down according to the guy's residence. Crimes like these are always crimes of opportunity,” Spencer points out.

“So the first guy on our suspect list will live in the closest proximity to the victim.”

“Do you have a place where we can set up?”

“You can use Simpson's desk. He's out. You got a phone there and a computer. Meantime, I'm gonna narrow down that list,” Sheriff Hall says.

You and Spencer walk over to the desk, and you take a seat on the edge of it while Spencer sits on the actual chair.

“You know, that house was full of chaotic energy. I saw Annie walk around her house, and I felt Wally’s energy as well as both unsubs. One was violent and angry while the other was jittery and nervous. There was only one killer, and the other guy didn’t even know what he was doing.”

“That can help us when we determine who’s on our suspect list,” Spencer nods.

“Hey, you guys find anything?” Derek asks as he and Hotch enter the station.

“Yeah,” you nod.

“Y/N found an eyewitness. A little boy who saw someone in the driveway.”

“That's more than we got at Thompson's place,” Hotch shrugs.

“We got two suspects,” JJ and Elle make their way over to everyone else. “Judd Franklin and Domino Thacker.”

“Can I see them?” you ask, and JJ hands over the files.

Both men are equally suspicious, but Domino is the one who screams at you to catch him. You hand over the file to Derek who reads it.

“I know Domino. He's bad news. Serious tweaker. Cooks his own stuff,” Sheriff Hall butts in.

“Does he live near the crime scenes?” Elle asks.

“Almost directly between them.”

“Robbery, armed robbery, possession, and possession with intent. This guy's been hospitalized for overdoses and attempted suicide,” Derek reads.

“What do you think?” Hall asks.

“We need to find Domino,” you conclude.

Derek and some burly cops went to get Domino which was the best idea they had. According to Derek, this guy ran and tried to fight back. However, due to his small stature and nervous outlook, he was easily caught and brought back to the station where Sheriff Hall placed him behind bars. This guy is wearing nothing but his underwear, so he was given a blanket due to him shivering like a Chihuahua.

“Hey, Hotch, I think it’s best if I talk to this guy. His energy is spiking in every direction, and I know I can make a connection with him easily.”

“Okay,” he nods.

Him, Derek, and Elle want to see this pan out, so they follow you to where the suspect is. From only one glance, you know this guy is the thief and not the killer. His energy matches the nervous energy you saw at the house. He is the one who robbed Annie, not killed her.

“I’m freezin’,” Domino complains as he scratches at his head.

You, Hotch, and Sheriff Hall are the only ones inside the cell while Derek and Elle are hanging outside of it.

“Domino, what were you doing at Annie Stuart’s house?” you ask gently.

“I didn't do nothin'. I got the flu. I'm sick is what I am,” he sniffles.

“We know you were there, boy,” Hall glares.

“Sheriff,” you whisper and shake your head when he looks at you.

“In the driveway. I was lookin' at that car, but I never stoled it. I was thinkin' about it, but I left. I seen that kid.”

“The blood found on the bottom of your boot is Annie Stuart's. The tread from the bottom of your boot is the same as the tread found all over the crime scene. Inside!” Elle yells.

“Elle, stop,” you snap and glare at her.

She is not helping this situation.

“Deputy. Coming out,” she sighs and leaves since she knows she won’t be of any help here.

“I didn't do nothin',” Domino whimpers.

“Domino,” you sigh and bend down so he doesn’t have to look up at you. “Look at yourself. You have a record and the blood of Annie all over you. How do you think that’s going to hold up in court? Think about that.”

“I... I… came back. I came back to her house. But he was leavin'.”

“Who?”

“Some dude, man. I don't know.”

“What was he wearing?” you ask.

“He had a hood. A black hood.”

“Domino, look at me,” you order gently, and he just shakes his head. “I’m not going to hurt you. No one is. I just want to talk to you. Come on, look at me.” He finally does and you can see just how scared he was. “You didn’t do this, did you?” He shakes his head. “Okay, if that’s true, then you gotta help us out here. Talk to me. You left. You saw him leave. Then what?”

“Went in and--and she's lying there. You know, um, I needed money real bad so... she was already like that.”

“She was like what?”

“You know, she was all cut up,” he starts to cry.

“She was all butchered up and you robbed her anyway?”

“It ain't right!” he yells, and you stand back up. This interview is done. “It ain't right! I'm sorry! It ain't right. Oh, god, forgive me. Oh, god... It ain't right! I'm sorry!”

“We’re done here,” you say to the Sheriff and Hotch.

It’s time that Domino is left alone to think about what he’s done. When you get to the main part of the station, you turn to the Sheriff.

“He didn't do it.”

“What makes you so sure?”

“He was pretty freaked out just thinking about what was done to Annie,” Derek points out.

“People pretend,” he shrugs.

“Anybody delusional enough to eviscerate Annie would not be lucid enough to recount it the way he did. Trust me, he didn’t do it. He robbed her, but that’s it.”

“Alright. I'll have him taken to detox and then I'm gonna arrest him for robbery.”

“In the meantime, I'd have your men canvass the neighborhood again to see if they saw a guy in a hooded sweatshirt,” Derek orders.

“Will do,” he nods.

Once you and the team had a rough idea of what to look for, it was time to give the profile. Every single cop in the station gathered around to hear what your team had to say. According to Gideon, he discovered that the unsub is drinking and eating the blood and organs after placing them in round containers. It’s why there were bloody rings on the coffee table. You have enough to put together a profile.

“We are looking for a twenty to thirty-year-old male,” Hotch begins.

“The unsub engages in anthropophagy. It's a psychotic conviction that he must drink human blood and possibly eat human flesh,” you add.

“For Richard Rrenton Chase, the vampire killer, he drank his victims' blood because he believed that aliens had invaded his body and were slowly drinking his blood,” Spencer spits out facts only he would know.

However, you knew about this too.

“If he didn't get the blood he needed, he'd die. Anthropophagy suggests such an extreme level of psychosis and disorganization that he couldn't have ventured very far from home to commit these crimes. This guy lives or has lived in this town. He knows the territory.”

“You've all seen him,” Derek takes over. “Maybe at the ballpark or riding his bike home from the grocery store. He wasn't always a threat. He could have been your neighbor. He might have been your friend. We think something about his delusion is keeping him here in town.”

“So, we're gonna start at Annie’s house and we're gonna spread out there in quadrants. We're gonna eliminate all of his hiding places,” Hotch determines.

“Paul Thompson's funeral is this afternoon. A lot of his neighbors are gonna be there,” Sheriff Hall mentions.

“Then that’s where we start,” you nod.

The funeral is in full service, and you’re scanning the area to see who might be at all suspicious. Most everyone is passing your tests, but there is one woman wearing a lacy black veil that raises a bunch of red flags. For some reason, she has a tint of that angry red energy you saw back at the house. There is something not right with her.

You go to mention this to Hotch who stands next to you when JJ and Elle walk over with a bunch of case files.

“So, we got some names of unsubs. Farrell Belvedere, twenty-three. He, uh, took a little too much LSD and flipped out in a Winn Dixie and tore up a cheese counter.”

“It’s not him,” you shake your head.

“Okay, show her Mark Ward. He's twenty-one with five counts of petty larceny. Attempted suicide, committed for a year, but now he's living back with his parents.”

“Nope,” you shake your head.

“The last one is Oley Maynor, twenty-five. He was institutionalized for severe manic-depression. He has violent mood swings. When he was eighteen, he got arrested for biting the heads off chickens.”

“He matches what I saw. It could be him, but it ain't the other two. I know it for sure,” you say.

“Gather as much information as you can about him,” Hotch orders.

“You got it,” you nod and leave with Elle.

Derek catches up with you and Elle to gather information on Oley, but you have one woman in mind. By the time you got debriefed, the funeral was over. The woman in the lacy veil was leaving, and you rushed over to her to see what she knows. You really want to get a feel about who she is and what she’s hiding because you know she’s hiding something.

“Ma’am, do you mind if we ask you a few questions?” you ask and flash her your badge.

“Of course, what do you need to know?”

“Do you know a man named Oley Maynor?”

“Of course. I just saw him the other day,” she nods without looking at you.

“You saw him where?” Derek asks.

“He was with his brother. In fact, I think it looked like they didn't want to be seen because he took Oley out of the car and went straight into his house.”

“When was this, Mrs. Mays?” Elle asks.

She must have known who this is because you didn’t know her name.

“Three days ago.”

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[starlightinhumanform]

Friday Night Lights: Chapter Two

Fandom: Sanders Sides

Ship: Romantic Prinxiety, Platonic Sleepxiety 

Summary: Roman and Virgil play opposite positions on their rival high school football teams. It’s the Homecoming game and tensions are high. Neither are willing to lose but one must rise above the other...

Warnings: Descriptions of pain/injury, Moderate language, One mention of drinking (Please tell me if anything needs to be added)

Genre: High School AU, Rivals to Lovers, Fluff 

A/N: Well... nearly a year since the first chapter came out I’m finally writing again!!! I really love this AU (even though I know very little about football lmao) and I have a lot of ideas about how I would like to include more Sanders Sides characters into this world. If I can get some more of my unfinished fics done, I really want to expand this series. Until then, I hope you enjoy! Love you all 🖤✨

Chapter One   Ao3   Fic Masterpost   Fic Request Info

The first play passed by in a blink. Most of the guys at the front went down quickly, even the largest crumpling under Prince and his brigade. Somehow in the chaos, the ball had been passed to Remy instead of Virgil and the fullback was tackled to the ground.

Virgil rolled his eyes at Remy as the team fell back into formation, only a few feet forward from where they had begun, “Dude, why’d the fuck did it get passed to you? It’s not like a knucklehead like you would know what to do with it.”

Remy huffed a laugh in response, “I have no clue. I’ll make sure it gets to you this time… hopefully.”

He glanced over in the direction that Remy was grimacing. It was Prince, of course, lumbering toward his position with what seemed to Virgil to be nothing but brutish arrogance. Roman acted like the entire game was about him; he acted like it was West Shore Vs Roman instead of West Shore Vs Knights. He probably didn’t even care about the game— it was all about showing off.

Crouched in the back of the formation, it was hard to see anyone at the front but he could picture Roman, somehow managing to smirk behind his mouthguard. Virgil hoped that Remy would rub his face in the turf.

—————————————-

Roman prepared for the second down, glad to see that the jock in front of him wasn’t looking nearly as confident as he had at the first down. Knocking someone to the ground always seemed to do the trick.

The ball was hurled straight back to Tempeste and the bitch who had growled at him earlier didn’t even try to block Roman. Good. All that was left between him and the weird little halfback was Remy Ristretto.

Roman tried to steady himself before the expected slam, but Ristretto’s tackle hit him low in the stomach, managing to knock him off balance. From the ground, he could just barely see the purple form of Tempeste weaving down the field and avoiding every single one of the Monarch Knight’s defense.

Roman tried to throw off the weight of the boy on his back but found himself thoroughly pinned down. His mouth was filled with the taste of plastic turf and dusty rubber and almost the entirety of his vision was blocked by the grape juice flavoured uniform on top of him. It was humiliating. And Tempeste was still running, reaching the end zone without being touched by a single Knight. It was like his feet didn’t even touch the ground, flying across the field.

The West Shore team were given the chance to make a field goal, and made it, but Roman hardly noticed. He was too busy grumbling about how he was going to get back at Tempeste the second he got the chance.

—————————————-

By halftime, Virgil felt like he had been driven over by a steamroller. Multiple times. A steamroller covered in baseball bats.

As the marching band paraded past where Virgil was sitting, he wondered vaguely about the operability of a steamroller that had baseball bats attached to it. Maybe the hit he had taken to the head earlier in the game had been harder than he thought.

Remy sat down besides him, “What’s going on in that big old head of yours?”

“Uhhhhh, a lot of cartoon gong sound effects. Now that I think about it, that might just be the band.”

Virgil looked out across the field as the marching band made their final pass around the turf. The sky was completely dark by now but the stadium glowed bright as day under the huge lights. It was always wonderfully surreal to Virgil, the time of night when the field became its own little world still holding onto the glory of day. He hoped glory was still how he felt about this field by the end of the game. The alternative would be shame; the alternative would be defeat.

And defeat was not an option for a game right before homecoming. It’s not that Virgil particularly cared about the school dances, quite the opposite in fact, he hated them. They were crowded, noisy, and you had to wear uncomfortable clothes and stand around with a bunch of people you don’t like instead of being at home watching scary movies and eating pizza in your pajamas. But there’s only one thing worse than going to a school dance— going to the a school dance after losing the biggest game of the season.

“You’re worried, aren’t you?” Remy’s voice broke through Virgil’s thoughts, “Well stop it. We’re ahead of the Knights—“

“Barely.”

“—you’ve made some great runs so far—“

“I’ve gotten blocked plenty of times too.”

“—and you’re always at your best in the second half of the game. Now stop putting all your energy towards making the little hamster wheel in your brain turn faster and go use it on the field. C’mon man, the third quarter is about to start.”

Virgil shook his head as if to dislodge the distracting thoughts, letting his purple bangs fall in front of his face for a moment before brushing them back and putting his helmet on. Remy was right. Virgil had started football as a way to channel his anxiety, not to cause himself more. He just needed to get on that field and start running.

He jumped up and started bouncing on his feet, letting the adrenaline flow through his body until it felt like he was buzzing. Virgil was ready to win.

—————————————-

Roman was ready to win.

He could feel it boiling in stomach, the drive, the push to alway be the best. The teams had been neck-and-neck the entire game but West Shore’s grape-coloured menace had managed to scrape by with a slight lead by the end of the second quarter. Roman had no idea how Tempeste could even run that fast; he had short little legs and was about as delicate as a twig. Maybe West Shore just hooked him up to a car battery and gave him 20 energy drinks before every game.

However they made it happen, the kid could run. He didn’t look like he belonged on a football team, more like a trackstar or even a dancer. Roman knew he looked like a football player— tall, with broad shoulders and a thick waist, his extra weight part of what made him such a good defense. But Tempeste... he was like no player Roman had ever seen. Maybe that’s why Roman couldn’t beat him like any other player.

As the teams fell into formation, Roman looked across the row of helmets and accidentally made eye contact with Virgil. His stare burned with intensity. Roman hated to admit it, but he liked that about the rival school’s halfback, the feverish energy that seemed to storm around him. In fact, if Roman was being really honest, he loved playing against the West Shore because he loved playing against Tempeste. The energy was infectious. Playing against him made Roman want to run faster, hit harder, be better.

Roman smiled behind the mouthguard that rested on his bottom teeth. Maybe he did know how to beat Virgil; maybe he had to be just as crazy and vicious as his opponent.

—————————————-

Virgil knew what it felt like to get tackled. In his high school career he had gotten jumped on top and thrown to the ground by various sweaty, muscly dudes more times than he could ever dream of counting or would ever care to. He had been dragged to the ground, sat on, and pushed over from every angle and in every way.

But he had never, never felt a tackle like Roman’s in the beginning of the third quarter of that game.

He saw it coming, practically in slow motion, before Prince actually hit him. The boy’s shoulders were nearly twice as big as Virgil’s even with all his gear. He came charging towards Virgil head-down like a bull, his bright red helmet set with a direct trajectory to Virgil’s solar plexus.

Virgil tried to sidestep, skirting just past the moving wall of Roman Prince, but somehow Roman was moving simply too fast. The impact struck just at his core and a deep kind of pain, like a bruise that goes all the way to the bone, resonated outwards through his entire body. A vibration ran all the way to his fingertips.

Virgil could see the crowd going wild, booing and cheering and maybe just screaming with no inflection, making noise for the hell of it. He couldn’t hear any of it. Maybe the entire world had been put on mute or maybe the ringing in his ears was drowning it out.

He fell backwards and Roman flew over him, momentum carrying him forward. When he landed— and boy, did he land— he fell on directly onto Virgil’s chest. Virgil thought Roman had knocked the wind out of him by hitting him in the sternum. By landing flat on his chest with the entire bulk of his body, Roman found another ounce of breath left in Virgil’s body to shock out of him.

His vision and hearing tunneled out, focusing on the one thing capturing his entire attention: Roman. The boy on top of him was heavy, crushing Virgil through his thick shoulder pads. The heat of Prince’s body spread through his gear as well, although, based on the sweat damping his hairline, Virgil really wasn’t one to talk.

Roman was strong, stronger than him. Virgil tried to squirm away but he could feel Prince throwing his weight downwards and his arms straining to keep Virgil caged to the ground.

Just as intense as his physical strength, Prince’s eyes seemed to burn. Before, they always seemed to be depthless, simply dark and brutish like a bear. Now, breathlessly close, there seemed to be a light behind them, a thousand times brighter than the stadium lights. Gold tones shining through the dark brown of his eyes. It was the most beautiful thing Virgil had ever seen. It was also easily one of the most terrifying things he’d ever seen.

Virgil kept the ball close to his chest. As long as he could keep it, the West Shore team would still have possession and could continue to move forward across the field. They could still win.

—————————————-

Roman had Tempeste pinned to the ground and somehow it was the most exhilarating thing he had ever done. Which isn’t to say he had never tackled the halfback before— they had been playing against each other for several years now— but this was different somehow, more personal.

Tempeste growled beneath him, wriggling to escape the tackle like water slipping between his fingers. Roman push down harder, refusing to let him go.

Footsteps pounded behind them, turf crunching under the stampede of Knights quickly charging forward. Roman braced himself for the pile-up he knew was coming, over a thousand pounds worth of his team jumping to join the tackle.

One guy slammed into Roman’s back then another, then another. The pressure of the game must have been getting to them as well because they threw themselves at Roman and Tempeste like a pack of wild animals.

It felt like every single Knight, including the offense players, were joining the tackle. And feel was the correct term. He could hardly see anything besides Tempeste’s face within his purple helmet. But he could feel everything, every hit of his teammates as their full weight fell against his back. Beneath him, Tempeste’s breath began quickening, like he was sprinting again. But of course he wasn’t, he was pinned down just like Roman was.

Roman glanced down into the depths of Virgil’s helmet, searching past the grill. Shining in the dark, his eyes caught a small reflection of the stadium lights. They were large, startled, and obviously panicked. He looked like a trapped animal and his breathing only continued to become more rapid.

Their eyes met as Roman looked down and he realized this was the first time he had ever seen Virgil look really, truly afraid. He had seen Tempeste in the fourth quarter, 20 points behind and looking as determined and fierce as ever. He had seen Tempeste sprint across the field, followed by the entire Monarchs team, with a huge grin on his face like there was nothing he would rather do than be hunted after. He had seen Tempeste stand toe-toe-to, small chest puffed out and jaw set confidently, with some guy over a foot taller than him because he tried to mouth off about Virgil’s ability. He had never seen him like this.

“Hey, it’s going to be ok,” Roman set his helmet grill against Virgil’s. He knew Virgil couldn’t hear him and probably didn’t even know why he was putting his face so close. Hell, Roman didn’t even know why he was doing it. There was something about Virgil’s genuine fear that he felt the need to comfort him, tell him that it was just a game, that he would be alright.

The weight of another player hit him and Roman was slammed against Virgil’s chest. The sudden shift forced Roman onto his wrist, the small joint carrying him and the entirety of his team. Something cracked. He gasped sharply as pain struck every molecule in his body. Roman’s vision went black.

—————————————-

Virgil sat in the locker room, staring vaguely across at the rows of blue shelves in front of him as he held a pack of ice against his shoulder. The nurse said that it might have been dislocated in the pileup.

He wished he could blame it on Roman, that oaf was the one who had tackled him to begin with. He couldn’t though. It was Roman’s job to tackle him and that’s exactly what Roman had done and as much as it confused and somewhat infuriated Virgil, he also knew the other boy had protected him from the blunt force of his teammates. Why? Why would he do that?

Dull pain throbbed through the entirety of his body, clouding his mind. Maybe that’s why he couldn’t quite wrap his head around what had happened.

Virgil was pretty sure Roman got hurt too. As he had walked off the field, gritting his teeth, he caught a glimpse of Prince cradling his hand as he walked in the opposite direction.

It was one hell of a pileup; four years of football and he had only been in a tangle that bad the first time he had played against the Monarchs. Maybe he and Roman were just destined to create disasters.

Virgil grimaced as his mind kept wandering back to Roman. He didn’t know why, but he couldn’t help but worry if Prince was alright. Virgil had no idea what was going on in his mind, or on the field, or in the locker room on the other side.

—————————————-

Roman was bored. He sat on the bleachers, watching the game drag on ahead of him as he held a pack of ice to his wrist. The nurse had told him it was probably just strained but Roman wasn’t convinced. He could feel the ache throbbing up his arm with every beat of his heart. Between the pain and the pressure spreading out from grinding his teeth, Roman’s head was trapped in a haze that he could barely see through.

From what he could tell, the Monarch Knights were winning. With Virgil out, Westshore’s offense had been greatly weakened. Roman hardly cared; he wasn’t out there, Virgil wasn’t out there, none of the spark was left in the game. What was the point of winning if there was no one to win against?

The crowd roared as the final quarter came to a close. The Knights won, but Roman didn’t. He felt disappointed, dejected, and like he didn’t quite understand where he was. This wasn’t his game.

The night came to an end and Roman opted to go straight to the locker room instead of shaking hands with the other team, blaming it on his wrist.  Usually, he loved facing the other team after a win— admittedly because it gave him a chance to gloat over them— but he just couldn’t find that same feeling tonight.

—————————————-

Virgil leaned against a cold concrete wall of the bleachers, staring up at the stadium light’s false sun above him. If he looked far enough, he could find the dark sky and the twinkling lights of the city below him and beyond the intense glow of the school.

A cool breeze was picking up as the world shifted into night. It was beautiful but Virgil couldn’t appreciate it. He just wished there had been some sort of ending, a closure of some kind. He and Prince’s last hurrah against each other. But they hadn’t gotten a hurrah, all they got was a game that petered out and came to sputtering stop as they both sat on the sidelines. Virgil didn’t even care that West Shore lost; it was never about West Shore and the Monarchs. It was about him and Roman.

Someone cleared their throat behind him, “You mind if I join your sulking or would you rather be left alone to mope?”

Virgil spun around, his body tensing at Roman’s voice and sending a twinge of pain down from his shoulder, “What do you want?”

Roman stepped closer, “I told you, I came to sulk with you because that’s obviously what we’re both doing.”

Virgil rolled his eyes, “Yeah, right well... fuck off.”

“Man, I thought you might bite before but now I’m sure of it.”

Prince took another casual step forward as Virgil’s mind began racing. What is he doing? Virgil’s eyes swept over Roman. He had never really seen him out of his football uniform and damn. In denim jeans and a red tee shirt, Virgil was actually able to see him for the first time. Most guys were greatly exaggerated by the uniform, making them look bigger and stronger, but nope, Roman was really just built like that. His gaze reached Prince’s face. Like the rest of his body, his features looked like they had been sculpted and chiseled like some type of statue. He was reminded of how beautiful Roman’s eyes were when he actually took the time to look at them, the warm shades of brown filtering through each other.

“Uh, what are you looking at?” Roman laughed, a hint of nervousness creeping into the edge of his voice.

Virgil felt blood rushing to his face as a deep blush rose to his cheeks. He had been staring, hadn’t he? “Sorry.”

Roman stepped even closer, clearing his throat again, “I actually came over here because... I wanted just wanted to tell you I’ve really enjoyed playing against you. And it can’t just be summed up by saying ‘good game;’ it’s been a hell of a good four years... you’re a phenomenal player.”

Virgil stared down at his feet. This was not what he had been expecting, not that he had been expecting any of this, “You know... it hasn’t been easy to be the smallest person on the team— shit, I’m the smallest player in any of the district teams. I don’t think I would have kept playing, or would have tried as hard to stay on the team if I wasn’t absolutely set on kicking your ass.”

Roman laughed— a deep, genuine sound flooding from somewhere in his broad chest— and Virgil couldn’t help but grin.

“So yeah... thanks for that. And good game,” Virgil smiled up at the other boy.

“Well, we can’t exactly shake hands like usual,” Roman glanced down at his swollen wrist and Virgil’s shoulder that he was still nursing.

“Can we do something else then?” Virgil moved so he was standing face to face with Roman, his heart pounding in his ears.

Virgil could feel Roman’s breathing quicken as he reached up with his good arm, sliding his hand to the base of Roman’s neck. Put he didn’t startle, he didn’t try to move away. If anything, he seemed to be leaning into the touch.

Virgil moved forward, standing on the tips of his toes to press his lips against Roman’s. For a horrific second, he thought Roman wouldn’t return it but after a moment of apparent shock, Roman bowed his head to deepen the kiss. He tipped them forward, supporting the entirety of Virgil’s weight with his uninjured hand.

When they finally broke away, Virgil was completely breathless. He definitely hadn’t seen that coming at the beginning of the evening.

Roman looked equally surprised but he began grinning like an idiot as the realization of what had just happened settled over him, “Can we do that again??”

Virgil laughed at Roman’s eager, puppy-dog-eyes expression, “At least buy me a drink first.”

“Well, I can’t exactly do that seeing as we’re both like 17–“

“Excuse you, I’m 18,” Virgil stuck his tongue out in mock indignation.

“Yeah, well, uh, would you maybe want to go to homecoming with me?” Roman began rushing his words out, “I mean, I totally get if not. There’s absolutely no pressure. And I’m sure you already have plans so—“

“That’d be cool,” Virgil broke in, “I’d really, really like that.”

Roman’s face once again broke into a beaming smile, “Really??”

“Yeah you big idiot, that’s why I said it. Besides, it’s awful going to a dance after losing a game so I might as well bring a trophy,” Virgil slipped his hand into Roman’s and began leading them out of the stadium and into the parking lot. Nothing could have prepared him for what happened tonight. He had started the evening determined to win, but even though West Shore lost, he didn’t feel disappointed.

Virgil looked at the silhouette of Roman against the fading campus lights as he walked alongside him. Maybe he had won something even more important than the game.

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[lizzielikeborden]

Just A Stranger

Request: general #17 for diego?

Character: Diego Hargreeves

Prompts: General- #17 “Are you jealous?”

To be completely fair he was unaware of the situation ahead of time. Your whereabouts were completely unknown, if you were dead in a ditch you were gone before he woke up so what you were wearing was also mystery, and unlike usual you did not leave him a little list of things you were going to do. Usually this would be “- work, - grocery store - pharmacy - picking up dinner”. Not such a minor detail as “I’ll be home about 30 minutes later than usual”. Little ref whistles and red flags popped through his head the moment he lifted the note to flip it over to see if maybe you had written more. But, there was nothing, it was completely blank. Diego stared at the note, and kept reading it over trying to make sure he wasn’t missing anything. After doing so he jumped up from where he sat, hitting his knee against the table due to not pulling the chair back enough to get out of the seat properly. 

My god where did I hang the clock. He thought to himself as he ran around much too anxious to find anything, including something you made him put up that he dropped on himself multiple times. Once he had finally made a full circle, seeing that the clock was directly above the front door. 

Okay wait. She gets off work at 3:30 PM and it’s 4:30PM. He counted on his fingers a little and refocused multiple times just to make sure his math was correct. The second the realized that he was right he dead sprinted out the door. 

She has to be in some sort of trouble. His heart raced faster than he ever thought it could. Once he got in the car he did not even think to put on a seatbelt or even completely shut the door. Lead foot Diego took off down the street, went 80mph in a school zone, and almost hit multiple people. In his mind you were already dead, stuck in the trunk of car, getting tortured, or getting harassed. About five minutes into driving he realized he had no idea where you even were. He knew not work, because you did not like to stay after due to horror stories Diego had told you about things that have happened in seemingly empty parking lots. So, he checked the grocery store parking lot and did not see your car. He went past the pharmacy because no cars were anywhere to be found in that tiny little lot. As he went past, he saw what looked to be your car at a nearby gas station. 

Mother fucking christ this light could not be any longer. Diego smacked the top of the steering wall with both hands as hard as he could. The light seemed to be red for ages. It was so long that he could tell you were not in your car, nor at the pump next to the gas tank. The light turned green and luckily he was in the front or a fun game of bumper cars and trade insurances would have happened. His tires squealed as he made an incredibly sharp turn into the parking lot.

That’s her car. Where the hell is she? He read your license plate and looked around the pump, you were no where to be seen. Diego parked his car and grabbed knives from the middle consul. He hid them from direct public view and stepped inside. Detective police officer vigilante Diego was on the loose now. He was looking everyone up and down. A few shady characters were present, but none were walking toward your car or a car big enough or in good enough shape to have a human hidden inside. 

Diego walked up the counter and stood for a moment, gathered his words to make sure he wouldn’t stutter, and then spoke “Hey man, you seen a (description of you) looking woman inside?”

“Yeah, she came in to pay for gas and then this other dude came in. He was having issues with is gas so she went out to go help him.” The man behind the counter pointed at the gas tank next to yours where the car once was. “She left with him.”

Diego’s blood boiled, not just out of anger, but with hints of anxiety. Why the hell would she get in a car with a strange man? They must know each other. No wonder I got such a short note. He stormed out the gas station and slammed the door. The bell that hung over top hit the glass and broke a small section. She’ll come back for her car. And I will be here when she does. He sat parked and tapped his foot and left hand vigorously. 

15 minutes later

Diego’s anger was no where near settled. In fact the longer time went on the angrier he was becoming. His mind was running in circles around the same terrible thoughts. The cashier did not give a description of the vehicle but the moment the little blue sports car pulled in Diego’s instincts picked up. His suspicions were confirmed when you stepped out of the car and waved at the man who did not step out. 

Oh fuck no. Diego got out of his car and stepped directly in front of the little sports car. It tried to maneuver around him but he had other plans, taking out a knife he ran and rolled across the ground. The blade cut straight through the tire like butter. The car spun and came to a halt.

“Diego?!” You ran over to the man now on his feet, you put a hand on his shoulder and he jumped a bit. Harshly he turned toward you. 

“Y/N, what a pleasant surprise! I would never expect to see you here at the most shady ass gas station in a car with another man after leaving a vague mother fucking note.” 

Your eyes came out of your head, you did not expect this, or any of that day to happen. No words were forming as a very very angry Diego stood in front of you. So, you just blurted out the first thing that came to mind, 

“Are you jealous?” You could see in Diego’s eyes that out of every single sentence, phrase, or word you could’ve said those were the wrong ones.

“Jealous? Should I be?” He took a step back instead of anger he seemed more upset. 

“No of course not. He’s a total stranger.” Diego’s mouth hung open, his eyes popped out of his skull, eyebrows furrowed. and his head was tilted. 

“YOU GOT INTO A VEHICLE WITH A COMPLETE STRANGER? AND THEN LEFT WITH THE STRANGER?” He yelled in frustrating and swung his arms around. 

“Excuse me bu-” The so called stranger you were with stepped out of his car but did not get a full sentence out before being shut down by Diego,

“You have two choices, fuck off, or more than just that tire will be slashed.” Diego did not even have to turn around to intimidate him before he ran back to his car and called someone to come get him. “Now back to you. What in the hell were you thinking?” His tone did not change but his demeanor did, he was much quieter and a bit calmer. 

“Well. I have been running late all day. I actually did not have a plan, so I assumed 30 minutes late was already how far behind I was. I just assumed my day would be about 30 minutes behind. Once I got about here I realized how low my gas was so I decided to get some, and that guy was having horrible trouble. So I stayed and helped him pump his gas but it wouldn’t work, I offered to help him again and we went to the gas station up the street.” You explained.

“You cannot be helping grown adult men or getting in cars with them. Hell any strangers for that matter. I know you think you are oh so capable but in real situations people tend to become a whole lot less capable.” He grabbed your hand and squeezed it, still keeping some distance between the two of you. You couldn’t really argue with him. You had never been in any situation like that so you couldn’t prove him wrong. Statistically he was correct. You gently pulled for him to come closer. He did so. 

“Thank you for being protective and cautious. You just care, more than normal, but you care. I shouldn’t have done that. But Mr. Vigilante you should not have slashed that poor mans tire.”

“You need to be happy I didn’t slash his thro-.”

“No no, we do not need to work you back up.” You put a hand on his cheek and made him look at you, you shook your head at him.

“What am I gonna do with you?” He smiled and leaned down, he matched your action and placed a hand across your cheek and kissed you softly. 

You gave it a moment and pulled back, “I could ask you the same thing.”

You took your keys from you pocket and started to walk back to your car.

“I will be following closely behind you the entire way home. Do not test me.” Diego commented as he wandered back to his car.

You smiled and took off faster than him down the street. You were gonna be the death of him... 

[wendip-week]

Prompt: Time-Travel

Prompt – Time Travel

It was another fine day in Gravity Falls. Squirrels were chasing each other, baby birds were chirping for food, and the local citizens went about their business, blissfully unaware of the rumored-weirdness that surrounded the valley.

In the town’s tourist-trap, the Mystery Shack, two young workers were sitting behind the register, looking bored. One was a short, scrawny pre-teen with shaggy, brown hair covered by a cap featuring a pine-tree. The other was a tall, lanky redheaded girl in flannel and sporting a trapper-hat. They were the best of friends (or partners-in-crime, depending on who you ask); and at that moment, they’d rather have been anywhere else.

“Ugh! Dipper! Why’s your uncle making us sit here? This place is half-dead! We’ve had, what? Sixteen customers all day, and maybe three of them wanted to buy something?” the girl said, laying across the counter.

“Yeah. Well, it’s Stan, Wendy. ‘Any potential sucker is basically a customer, and customers have money, so don’t miss an opportunity to get some!’”

“Nice one. But seriously, dude, I wish we could go on some adventure. Heck, I’ll take anything: scary or cheesy,” the girl said confidently.

“Really?” Dipper replied, looking at her. “You’d stoop to something out of our B-movie collection?”

Wendy paused, clearly giving this some thought. “Well…”

“The Crawling Deer-Demon-Duck is hiding in that condemned-house, Cassandara!” Dipper said in a low-baritone, his face pouting with mock-bravery. “What kind of brave seventeen-year-old slight bad-boy would I be if I didn’t go in there alone to try and stop it?”

Accepting his challenge, Wendy stood up. “Oh, Drewson! You can’t! It’s too dangerous!” she replied, adopting a terrible accent of a Southern-belle. She put the back-end of her hand on her forehead dramatically, while using her other to grab his sleeve. “I won’t let you go into that condemned house where the Deer-Demon-Duck is hiding!”

Dipper gently moved her hand away and faced her more directly. “But you have to let me!”

“Oh, Drewson!!!” Wendy lamented, now looking Dipper in the eyes.

“Cassandara…” Dipper did the same…

The two’s faces came closer and closer…

  Meanwhile, from two different ends of the Shack, a couple of thirteen-year-olds watched with interest. One, a fit-looking, freckle-faced girl with brown hair, stared with wide-eyes; she had her hands over her mouth as she barely suppressed a squeal. It was just too cute and hilarious! The other was a bulky young-man with copper hair. He just rolled his eyes and shook his head, chuckling.

  Wendy and Dipper’s faces were now inches from one another; neither breaking the act. Just as it seemed they were about make contact…

*FLASH!*

“Bwaaaahhh!!!” cried out a voice of pure-chaos.

…A white flash of light and a subsequent familiar-sounding snap caught them off-guard (and momentarily blinded the duo).

“Hey!” Dipper shouted.

“What the heck?!” Wendy replied, blinking to get her sight back.

“You guys! That was adorable!” Mabel, Dipper’s twin who sported braces, a homemade sweater, and thick, long brown cried out.

“Mabel?” said Wendy. “How long have you been there?”

“Long enough to hear all that!” the energetic girl told her friend while holding a photo-camera.

“W-We were imitating a scene from one of our movies!” Dipper replied quickly, his face suddenly a deep-red.

“Tomato-Potato! A smooch-scene’s a smooch-scene! Look!” Mabel told them, holding up an instant-photo. Looking closer, it featured Dipper and Wendy, inches apart and puckered up. “And I thought your only chest-hair was scrapbook-material, Dip!”

“Mabel, you better throw that away!” Dipper told his sister, while Wendy just shook her head, a hand covering her eyes.

“Nope! Scrapbook-ortunity!” Mabel opened her scrapbook and, finding a spot that was (relatively) empty, put the photo in. “Boom! Now, I just need some glue! Be right back!”

Mabel ran into the house to look around, leaving her brother and friend alone and little embarrassed.

Dipper looked at his redheaded crush. “Sorry, Wendy. She didn’t need to do that.”

“It’s whatever, dork. I mean, we were kind of cutting it close. That’s what happens when you play chicken.”

“Yeah… I’m gonna destroy it before she gets back,” Dipper said, reaching out for the scrapbook.

“No, don’t!” Wendy replied, putting her hand on his shoulder.

“Wendy, you know she’ll show people. What’ll our friends think? I don’t want you to get embarrassed,” the younger Mystery-Twin said to the redhead.

“Thanks, but if everyone starts laughing, we can just say we’re great actors. After all, I’d pick you over the lead in that cheesy-film any day,” Wendy reassured Dipper, a gentle smile on her face.

Not knowing what to say, the blushing twelve-year-old just awkwardly chuckled.

“Hey!” shouted a gravelly-voice from inside the house. “Can somebody help me with this pimple on my back! I don’t need it bothering me on my next tour!”

Wendy turned to look at her dork, looking a little nonplussed. “…We should probably run before Stan singles us out.”

“To the roof, you think?” Dipper asked.

“Nah, I’m starved. Let’s hit Greasy’s. There’s a great lunch-special if we hurry.”

The nigh-inseparable duo quietly rushed off, leaving the gift-shop completely unattended. With that, the two customers slowly approached the counter, awkwardly looking around.

“Well, that was adorable and weird,” the girl told the boy around her age.

The large boy shrugged. “Definitely right on the latter.” He turned to face the girl. “How has your day been progressing?”

“Uh, fine I guess?” she replied, not used to hearing a greeting in such context. “How about yours?”

“Can’t complain. So… the gift-shop’s abandoned, it looks like,” the boy said, looking around.

“I guess so. Someone could steal something from here and no one would notice.”

“True. Looks like the rumors of this place sparing every expense were true,” the boy said with a chuckle. “Are you planning on stealing something?”

“No! Of course not!” the girl replied with a huff. As the boy looked away, she discreetly took a glance at the scrapbook left behind.

“Well, that’s good. Lots of punk-teens wouldn’t think twice about robbing this place blind,” he told her.

“Fair point,” The girl replied. She reached a small hand out. “I’m May, by the way.”

The other teen answered by clasping it with a meaty-looking hand of his own. “Cool. That’s my sister’s name. I’m Danny.”

For a second, the girl called May’s eyes widened, before narrowing suspiciously. Danny suddenly realized she wasn’t letting go of his hand.

“No, it isn’t,” she replied curtly. “My brother’s Danny!”

As she said that, the other teen frowned before his eyes mirrored the girl. They stared momentarily before pouncing. May attempted to pull “Danny” toward her. Danny, however, was ready. He spun and pulled the hand still clasping his behind the girl’s back. With her momentarily caught off-guard, he pushed her into one of the aisles. He quickly snatched the scrapbook from the counter before racing out the door. May, after stopping herself from hitting a wall, turned to see no scrapbook near the register. She immediately rushed outside to find the boy.

Behind the Mystery Shack, Danny was going rummaging the somewhat sticky-pages of the book he snatched, careful not let anything besides some glitter fall out from between. Finally, his eyes settled on his objective. He was just about to take it when-

“Hey, you!” Danny turned towards an angry-looking May, her fist punching her other palm. “That’s stealing! I don’t know who you are, but I’m not letting you have that!” she shouted.

“Please!” he replied. “As if you weren’t planning on it. I’m smarter than I look, you know!” he accused the girl, who gritted her teeth at his comeback. “And for your information, I’m me! And you’re not you!”

With that, the two of them raced towards each other. This time, however, May slid between the large boy’s legs and got behind him. Before he could react, she grabbed him underneath his shoulders. With him successfully in a headlock, May reached for the book in the redheaded boy’s hand. Realizing what she was trying to do, Danny swung back-and-forth, trying to make May let go of him.

Caught off-guard, the strong girl actually lost her grip on one of his arms for a minute, though she quickly regained it by getting her arm around his neck. However, this wasn’t enough. He reached behind, and this time, he got ahold of May’s shirt, enabling him to throw her off, despite her attempts to hold onto his head. (She even grabbed and stretched his mouth in the process).

She landed with a thud but was quick to get back on her feet. And May was immediately shocked by the sight before her. Next to this guy’s feet was the scrapbook of Mabel, apparently dropped when she made him throw her off. But on the other side of “Danny” laid what looked like a rubber-mask of his face. The head on his body now sported something else: a head that she could only describe as resembling an oversized pistachio, but with red-eyes and sharp teeth.

The creature posing as a human, realizing he was exposed, quickly grabbed his mask and slipped it back on with a growl. Now indiscernible from a human, he wagged what May assumed was a false finger, clearly ticked by that. He charged at her, only for her to roll out of the way. She tried a roundhouse-kick, only for the disguised teen to catch her foot. When May tried to break out, she lost her balance, enabling Danny to catch her from behind the same way she had him.

However, May was ready this time. As this guy grabbed her underneath her shoulders, May somersaulted backwards and caught Danny’s neck with her shoes. With all of her might, she used her legs to throw Danny forward, headfirst! He landed with a loud thud, giving May time to grab the book and escape.

Danny, checking to make sure his mask was straight, raced to catch up to May. He went around the side and rushing in the general direction she ran, saw her carefully moving around a large hole not too far from the Mystery Shack. Taking off a hand-shaped glove, he launched a vine-like appendage and grabbed May’s leg, tripping her and pulling her back. At the same time, she dropped the book near the edge of the long drop. Danny rushed forward and picked it up.

Of course, by this time, May was back on her feet. She charged with all he had and slammed her shoulder into the creature’s costumed-midsection, making him drop the book again. “OW!” They both shouted after May made contact.

Danny rubbed the spot where he got rammed with one hand and pushed her back with his other. He then looked at the pained girl strangely. “That was… You tackle just like May does; only weaker. Who are-? Hey, you okay?”

“Do I look okay?” May was clutching her shoulder, and as the boy could see more plainly, it didn’t look quite right.

“You’re hurt.” Before Danny could say more, the edge of the hole he was standing by gave way. He fell and, because he was still holding onto May, ended up pulling her in, too.

They both fell, screaming all the way down, only realize that they didn’t seem to be getting there anytime soon.

“Wait… I know what this is! We’re in the Bottomless Pit!” May said in realization.

“Oh, yeah! Haven’t seen the inside of this I was five…” Danny thought out loud.

“So you say!” May snapped. “Stop pretending already and tell me what the heck you are! Running into you is like crashing into a tree-trunk! What the heck?!”

Danny paused. “Okay, seeing as you look like you’re hurting, and I’m not, I’m going to call a truce. I’m willing to talk if you are, but I’d rather check your arm first. Is that cool with you?”

“Fine,” May grumbled, seeing no options at the moment. She was at a disadvantage, and if this monster could reach her, she’d be in trouble.

“Alright. Now, stay calm and try not to freak out.” Danny took a hand-shaped glove off and from where it was, slowly extended a vine in May’s direction. It gently went around the teenager’s midriff and pulled her towards him. It was plain to see she was suspicious. “Let me see…” Using his other hand, he poked May’s shoulder.

“Augh!” she grunted.

“Yeah… Looks like you dislocated your shoulder,” Danny assessed with a shudder. “You meatbags and your weird bodies.”

“MEATBAGS?! Look who’s talking!”

“Hey, it is basically what you are. You’re like, mostly water, aren’t you?”

“Well, yeah…” May admitted awkwardly. “But that’s still rude.”

“Right. Sorry,” he apologized sheepishly. “Look, we can’t do anything until we come back up, so we might well as chat and find what the heck is going on here; maybe why you want that scrapbook so much.”

“You took it first,” May replied. “What about you? Also, would you mind letting go of me?”

“Can do.” Danny retracted his vine, allowing May to freefall on her own, then slipped his glove back on over his branch-like hand.

“Okay, so… who the heck are you? I’ve lived in Gravity Falls all of my life; I know that names being alike isn’t some coincidence.” May said.

“Agreed. I’m Danny Pines,” said the strange-teen. “And I’m assuming you’re May Pines.”

“Yeah. May Pines: daughter of Mason and Wendy Pines,” May stated proudly.

“Those are my parents’ names,” Danny replied, an eyebrow raised.

“Weird. My brother’s human, and he doesn’t look much like whatever that costume is you’re wearing. Are you being honest that you’re who you say you are?”

“Yes, I am,” Danny replied, starting to sound annoyed. “Look, I’m a plant-person, okay? So is most of the family, along with the half-the-town where I’m from. We wear disguises to blend in with humans… And what’s wrong with the way I look?”

“Well, for starters, my Danny’s not built like you. He’s muscular, but like the lean-kind. And he’s tall. You kind of have a build like my uncles on Mom’s side of the family. Plus, your face kind of looks like Aunt Mabel’s. He’s got more of one that looks kind of like Grandpa Dan,” May said thoughtfully.

“Huh. Go figure. I never actually wondered if my disguise was accurate… As for my height, I can safely tell you I’m taller than I look. I basically slouch in this costume,” Danny told her. “And my May’s costume doesn’t have you so good, either.”

“Really? Why?” May asked.

“Well, her mask has red-hair and no freckles. And your nose definitely isn’t Mom’s.”

“Oh. I always wondered how I’d look with red hair…” May thought out loud. “Uh, so… why the heck were you trying to take that book?”

“Why do you need it?”

May sighed in resignation. “Look, I’m looking for an anniversary-present for Mom and Dad. I remember Aunt Mabel told me about some cute picture in her scrapbook that went missing. It was that little scene with Mom and Dad from a little earlier. Apparently, it disappeared. It’d be a good gift, and I thought maybe it was me taking it after Blendin Blandin loaned me his Time-Tape that caused it disappear. Now, I’m wondering if it vanishes because you steal it.”

“What a coincidence. I was planning on getting that as an anniversary present for them, too. Well, my version of Mom and Dad.”

“Yeah… How’s that work again? I’m already assuming this is probably one of those Other-Dimension/Universe deals. Or maybe even another timeline,” asked May

“Really? How would that last one work? New timelines always replace old ones, right?” Danny replied.

“I don’t know. I don’t do this for a liv-Oh! We’re coming back up!”

About a minute later, the two thirteen-year-olds found themselves back outside the Bottomless Pit, not a minute gone by since they fell in. Immediately, they stepped away, quick to attend to more important matters. Well, besides the picture in Mabel’s scrapbook, anyway. (Danny quickly picked that up).

“Alright,” Danny said after making sure no one was around. “I’m not an expert, but I’ve been taught the basics of human-skeletons. We’ve gotta fix that arm.”

“Right. Uh, one sec.” May used her good arm to pull a coin-purse out of her pocket. From there, she pulled out a piece of wood with some bite-marks and stuck it in her mouth. “Do your worst.”

Danny put one hand on her forearm; the other on her shoulder. “This is gonna hurt. I’m going to count to five. Got it?” May nodded, and Danny counted. “One… Two… Five.”

A shrill, girly scream echoed through the valley. A scream rivaled only by those who were unfortunate enough to stick an appendage into the infamous “Pain Hole”.

“You okay?” Danny asked, concerned.

“Yeah,” May grunted, rolling her shoulder a couple of times. “This actually happens more often than you think. I’ll be fine in a couple of days.

“Well, I guess that’s one thing you humans have over us,” the boy said, shaking his head. “Your broken limbs don’t have to stay broken. We need to regrow ours. It’s pretty rough.”

“I guess… So, is your time like that lizard-people timeline or something? Dad and Aunt Mabel said something like that happened or was talked about when they were hunting for treasure one time.”

“I don’t remember either of them talking about that,” Danny said, shrugging. “All I know is that my version of Mom and Dad were turned into plants outside of Gravity Falls, and that there was time-travel involved. Come to think of it, I wonder if maybe Time-Wishes have something to do with this.”

May raised an eyebrow. “I don’t follow.”

“They’re paradox-free, but what if they don’t line up with the future. And they can’t be part of a time-loop, either. That’s another paradox. But splitting timelines might make for a good technicality, especially if they lead to the same futures or something.”

“…You read a lot of science-fiction, don’t you?” May deadpanned.

Danny shrugged. “When I’m camping. Yeah.”

“So… you think maybe we come from different branches and that this is a shared-moment in the past?”

“In a nutshell. No pun intended.”

May shrugged. “Anything’s possible. So, how are things in your timeline? Is the Shack still standing?”

“Yeah. Uncle Soos is doing a great job with it.”

“Nice! Does Arctica exist in in that time? Do you like-like her?” May asked in a sly voice.

“N-No! I mean, uh, yes… and no!” Danny replied quickly.

“Oh my gosh! I knew it!” May said, almost squealing. “Everyone knows! Me, our parents, our friends! Aunt Pacifica sure approves! So does-!”

“Wait! Pacifica… She’s alive in your time?” Danny asked, looking a bit shocked.

“Yeah. Is she not…? Oh, man! What happened?” May replied, looking very concerned.

“She just got sick. Last year, I think. That kind of thing’s one drawback to being human, I guess. Still, everyone was there, so I think she was comfortable, at least,” Danny told his sister from what might be an alternate-timeline.

“Shoot…” May thought out loud.

“Sorry to bring the mood down. So, does Chaz still try to keep his distance from you and your cooties?”

“As if! He’s just intimidated by my tackle!”

“Sure… No doubt that’s why he and Drake Jr. tried to discover a vaccine for them,” Danny said with a chuckle. “Dad thinks they might be onto rediscovering the Philosopher’s Stone instead.”

“So, Aunt Mabel married Uncle Drake in your timeline, too?”

“Yep.”

“Great… Two versions of our uncle to pass on his terrible driving skills two different versions of our cousin,” May said in exasperation.

“Don’t forget our siblings…” Danny added.

“Siblings? What siblings?” May asked.

“…You’re kidding, right?”

“No. Seriously, we have them? What are they like?” May said with interest. “Younger? Older?”

“All of the above. Dang. I wish I had my special phone-glove so I could show you pics. Too bad I didn’t want to accidentally leave it.”

“Shoot! Lucky!”

Danny laughed. “Keep telling yourself that.”

May smiled, then looked at her aunt’s scrapbook. “That photo’s still in there.”

Danny rummaged through it and found the page with said photo. The siblings from different timelines both stared, admiring the young versions of their parents doing that corny, mock-romance scene.

“What do you wanna do?” Danny asked her.

“I don’t know… I want it, but you’ve got as much right to snatch it as I do,” May replied. “I wish we both could take it with us.”

“You know, maybe we can,” Danny said after a minute.

“Huh? What do you mean?”

“Doesn’t the Shack have a magic photocopy-machine in this time?”

“…And Mom and Dad are gone, so we might be able to pull this off!”

//

Meanwhile, Mabel was in her and Dipper’s room in the attic, which had basically been torn apart in a futile-search.

“Come on, Mabel!” The sweater-loving preteen said to herself. “Where’d you put that extra glue?”

//

The Mystery Twins of different timelines slipped through the currently-unguarded gift-shop of the Mystery Shack with ease, only to run into an elderly, bespectacled man in a fez, faded-white tee-shirt, and boxers in the living room, who was sitting on the couch, watching tv. The man turned to face them.

“Hey!” he said gruffly. “No exploring the house unless I’m leading a tour! Back to the gift-shop with you.”

Danny approached him, a hand behind his back. “No. Back to sleep with you.” Danny brought his concealed hand out from behind him, a large flower blooming from his wooden hand. He blew what looked like pollen into the old man’s face. The man was out in an instant, drooling all over himself.

May took the tv remote and flipped through a couple of channels. When she was satisfied, she abandoned the remote and joined Danny, though not before laying a soft kiss on the scary-looking man’s temple.

“Love you, Great-Grunkle Stan,” May whispered. She turned back to rubber-suited variation of her brother. “Let’s go.”

The two kids wandered down the hall towards the back, where they found a beaten, worn-out copy machine with words like “Danger” and other warnings on and around it.

“So… if I remember correctly, Dad said this’ll clone whatever you put into it,” May said. “It’s how Great Grunkle Stan made copies of the Journals that triangle-dude ruined.”

“Right,” Danny replied. “Seems straightforward. I think I’ll make two. This way, we don’t have to steal anything.”

“Sounds good. Let’s just remember not to get either wet.” May stepped out to check the living room.

//

Meanwhile, a heavy-set young man in a cap and a shirt with a big question-mark stepped into the living-room. “Hey, Mr. Pines. I just finished fixing-Oh, cool! You’ve got anime on!”

Soos Ramirez sat down on the couch, his gaze focused entirely on the tv-screen. He didn’t notice the teenage-girl peering around the corner, nor the bright and completely-noticeable flash from down the hall. He also didn’t notice two teens step back into the gift-shop, the boy holding three identical-copies of what looked like Mabel’s scrapbook.

//

In the Mystery Shack’s gift shop, May sat the scrapbook back down on the counter where she and Danny found it.

“Alright! Are we good to go?” May asked Danny.

“I think so. I made whole scrapbooks that we can maybe use for Aunt Mabel sometime. I bet she’d like to see her old pet-project again,” Danny replied.

“Great idea. You know, if it’s not us that steal the photo, I wonder what happens to this one.”

“Beats me. But no time to find out. Someone’s bound to come back any time now.” Danny said, handing one of the copies to May.

“You’re right… Hey, I’m sorry I kind of jumped you when we ran into each other. I thought maybe I violated some time-bureau thing and you were an agent or something,” May replied with sincerity as the two of them walked out of the entrance.

“That’s alright. No harm done. I’m sorry you hurt yourself trying to hurt me,” Danny replied to the girl.

“It’s fine,” May told her… sibling. “You know, it would be cool if we could hang, but with whatever this is, I don’t see how that’s possible any time soon.”

“You’re right,” Danny agreed, almost regretfully. “I don’t know how time-travel works, and I don’t Blendin’s inclined to tell someone who got the drop on him.”

“Huh?!”

“Nothing!”

The two stared at each other, not knowing what else to say. Finally, May broke the ice: “Awkward sibling-hug?”

The Mystery Twins embraced, awkwardly patting each other’s backs before separating.

“So, before we go our separate ways, can I ask you a weird question?” Danny asked sheepishly.

“Sure. What is it?” May responded.

“What’s like having a nose? A real one, I mean…”

//

Meanwhile, Mabel Pines had just come back downstairs. “I can’t believe I forgot I have one in my sweater’s inner pocket. What a silly-Mabel I am!” she said to herself, chuckling.

She stood by her scrapbook on the counter and tried to work the cap to the new glue-bottle off.

At the same time, a customer, who had come into the empty gift-shop just before the girl came down, went to approach Mabel and ask about getting rung up. Unfortunately, there was a snowglobe left on the floor by some child earlier that day. The man suddenly tripped on it and fell forward, only to stop himself by catching a fan. Said fan immediately started blowing on high, blasting Mabel’s hair all over her face and blowing a certain photograph into the yard, where an odd-looking goat caught in his mouth and ate it.

That was a dark day for Mabel Pines… who immediately planned to try to convince Dipper and Wendy to reenact that scene again.

//

The Pines twins from alternate futures faced each other, holding out their respective Time-Tapes (with the tape pulled out appropriately) and holding tightly onto their respective scrapbooks. The two got one last look at each other.

“Bye, Danny,” May said to her secret monster of a brother. “I love you, and I hope Mom and Dad like your gift.”

“Likewise, May,” Danny said, looking a bit sad. I wish you could see the others… I’d have liked to see their reactions meeting you.”

May gave him a soft smile. “Hey, I got to meet you, at least.” Danny smiled in response.

The Mystery Twins let the tape on their devices retract. There was a flash of light, and it was like they had never been there.

[starkzam]

I have a prompt ~ No one in the League knows Billy's identity, and since he's been in so many bad homes, whenever one of them raises their voice or goes to pat his back after a job well done he flinches. Everyone on the League think it's cause he's not used to human interaction. But when the Young Justice notice it they take to protecting him in small ways, like putting themselves in-between him and the League. Even though they think he's this immortal God, they have an urge to protect him.

Ooh... I’ve gotten similar prompts before, but I like the twist of them thinking it’s cause he’s not human...

Here’s a first try— might do something bigger on Ao3, who knows—

• • • • •

Billy Batson— or, in this form, Captain Marvel— found himself staring off into space in the middle of a meeting. It wasn’t something he did often, but sometimes his thoughts wandered when a meeting was particularly lengthy or boring.

He must have been doing so for a long time and was in there pretty deep, as the sudden hand on his shoulder was like a (literal) shock to his system. Lightning arched outward from his muscular build on instinct, his eyes widening as he flinched hard and curled away from the touch.

The meeting room was gone, replaced with a dark closet full of boxes and clothes, and the raven wasn’t Cap anymore— he was little Billy Batson, bruises on his face and collarbone, scratches and cuts on the palms of his hands and forearms. His hair was a ruffled mess, his cheeks tinted red and tear-stained.

His thin frame trembled as loud, harsh voices rang out just outside the door, yelling, crying out and bashing against his skull. He wanted them to stop, wanted them to go away, wanted it all to just—

“CAPTAIN!”

The demigod gasped, eyes wide as he came back to himself. He was staring at Flash, who sat directly across from him, and visibly shaking. He couldn’t control the tremors running through him— he hadn’t had an episode like that in so long, what had brought this on—

He glanced at his shoulder, finding the hand that had been there previously hovering in the air. He followed the hand upward and found it belonged to Superman of all people— the Kryptonian was watching him with wide eyes as the demigod suddenly stood.

“I have to go.”

• • • • •

Cap hummed you himself softly as he worked on making sandwiches, getting lost in his own head as he spread various ingredients on bread.

“Hey, Cap— nice job today,” a voice said from behind him, causing the man to glance back and find Green Arrow of all people grinning at him.

“Didn’t know you could eat so much— you could almost put the Flash to shame,” Oliver said with a chuckle, bringing a hand up to clap it on the demigod’s back.

Captain Marvel flinched hard, the man’s hand feeling like fire against his skin. He lurched forward closer to the food he was making, causing the archer to furrow his brow and drop his hand.

“You okay there buddy?” The blonde asked, tilting his head in question as Marvel’s grip tightened around his butter knife. “You not like bein’ touched or something?”

Marvel stayed quiet, swallowing thickly and nodding shakily. “Not uh— not- not used to it,” he replied, setting down his knife. “Sorry.”

Oliver grinned, setting his hands on his hips. “Oh, don’t worry about it Cap— I’m sure an ancient god dude like you isn’t used to being around us common folk. It’ll just take some getting used to,” he said with a chuckle.

Captain Marvel stayed quiet, picking up his butter knife again. “R-right...”

• • • • •

“Mission report— from everyone,” Batman said, his tone more harsh and demanding than usual. A few of the League members shared a look, some rolling their eyes and others staring warily at one another.

Captain Marvel wrung his wrists together anxiously— he’d majorly messed up during this mission, and because of him someone had nearly gotten hurt. He wasn’t looking forward to highlighting that again— especially when it was something Batman had witnessed first-hand.

Flash was first to give his report, babbling about damage and civilians and goons, Batman listening with a grim expression. When he was done, he was dismissed. “Marvel,” Batman said, looking towards the demigod.

“Report.”

Captain Marvel swallowed thickly, nodding at the Dark Knight and taking a step forward. The man already knew what had happened, he didn’t want to recap. “I worked on minimizing damge, for the most part. Kept a skyscraper from collapsing, as well as put out a fire before it could do too much damage.” He said before dropping his gaze.

“I experienced a momuntary lapse in judgment, and—“ he let out a shaky breath in an attempt to calm himself. “And put civilians in danger.”

Batman stared him down, silently.

“You actively put civilians in the line of fire,” Batman growled out lowly, his hands clasped together as he stared at the taller raven. “You nearly killed an entire family, Captain.” He said, raising his voice.

“Your arrogance nearly murdered innocents!” Batman yelled, standing up and slamming his hands down on the table. Captain Marvel stiffened, his back straightening as he flinched and eyes took on a sudden sheen.

Some of the other heroes furrowed their brows at his reaction. Marvel’s posture was stiff and straight, his muscles tense and fists tight at his sides. If they looked closely, they’d see his breathing sharp and short, verging on panicking.

“I’m- im sorry, sir.”

“You damn well should be,” Batman growled, glaring the demigod down.

Marvel stayed still as the Dark Knight dropped his gaze, sitting back down with a huff. “Lantern. Your turn.”

• • • • •

Captain Marvel ran a hand through his hair as he stepped out of the Zeta Beam, trailing after the Young Justice team as they came into the Watchtower. He’s been assigned to help them on their latest mission, and overall it had gone fine— apart from the fact that he’d sort of been captured and the teenagers hadn’t stopped arguing the entire mission.

Something he should have been able to stop— he was supposed to be the peacemaker, and he’s more than failed at that aspect. Sure, he’d given Aqualad advice on how to keep his team a cohesive unit, but he still never should have allowed them to split in the first place.

And now he was going to have to pay for it.

Captain Marvel followed the group towards the main meeting room, the metallic doors sliding open and revealing the rest of the League. The demigod glanced at his spot at the table longingly— oh to not have to give this report— before shaking the thought away and straightening.

“Batman, Superman, Wonder Woman,” he greeted as he and the teenagers came in, making his way to the front of the group and holding his hands firmly behind his back. He was sure that the kids behind him could see how tensely he was holding himself, he could feel his forearms trembling and his nails digging into his skin, but he couldn’t focus on that right now.

“The mission overall was a success— the team was able to figure out the source of the animal attacks as well as get rid of the collars being used to cause the animals to attack people,” he said, taking a steadying breath in and letting it out.

“Thought we did have complications.”

He didn’t see the teenagers sharing looks behind him, or see them shuffling uncomfortably as Batman’s eyes narrowed on the hero. Captain Marvel took a slight step forward, making sure the man’s hard gaze stayed on him, rather than the others— something the team took notice of.

“What complications.”

Marvel’s nails dug further into his skin, hard enough that, had he not been bullet-proof, he would have broken skin. “I allowed myself to be captured,” he said, flinching slightly when Batman’s glare grew slightly harder. “And I allowed the team to split up.”

The teenagers behind him furrowed their brows— Cap hadn’t ‘allowed’ them to split up— they’d done it on their own, out of their own arrogance and misguidance. They didn’t understand why he’d take the fall for them like this. “I know that I was sent along with the team to make sure the mission went smoothly, and I failed in that. It was successful, but it wasn’t smooth.”

Batman stayed quiet as Superman sighed. “Was anyone hurt?”

Captain Marvel shook his head, causing some of the teenagers eyes to widen slightly— Marvel himself had bearly had his head carved into; the PTSD that could come from that should have more than counted. Why- why was he doing this?

Batman pinched the bridge of his nose, letting out a sigh. “You’re benched for the foreseeable future, Captain.”

Anyone in the room could tell the demigod was hurt by this, if his flinch was anything go by, but his expression remained neutral. “Y-Yes sir,” he said, nails finally breaking skin and causing blood to trail down the base of his palm and drip to the floor.

“You’re dismissed.”

The teenagers behind him stared at the demigod shocked, watching as the man nodded and turned to leave, maneuvering around them and leaving the room hastily. He left a trail of blood behind him, dark red spots on the bright white tiles.

Conner was the first to take off after him— the others were quick to follow. Someone needed to check on Captain Marvel.

[plaidbooks]

Hi! I love your work and I’m in serious need for some hurt/comfort..Can you do prompts 9. “Did it mean anything to you? Did I mean anything to you? 11. “I loved you.” “Then why did you let (her/him/them) get in between us?” with Sonny please? Thanks!!

Assaulted

A/N: Oof, this was a request! The first part was based off of that one episode (I think when they find out about Noah’s dad) where Sonny’s undercover at a sex trafficking party and focusing on asses...I mean, same dude, but come on. There wasn’t a whole lot of comfort at the end of this, but assume that they work it out.

Tags: sexual assault, mentions of sex trafficking

Words: 2317

Taglist: @the-baby-bookworm @beccabarba @thatesqcrush @itsjustmyfantasyroom @stardust-fray @permanentlydizzy @infiniteoddball @ben-c-group-therapy @glowingmess @whimsicallymad @reading--mermaid @averyhotchner @mrsrafaelbarba @detective-giggles 

You grit your teeth, nostrils flared as you watched the video feed in the NYPD van. The feed was zeroed-in on a woman’s ass, a tight dress pulled across her curves, as she danced with a john. Amanda, who was seated at the controls in front of you, subtly glanced at you, then at Olivia.

“Maybe we should remind Carisi that we’re seeing this, too,” Amanda suggested in a soft voice. Olivia nodded, shooting you an apologetic look. But you were still glaring at the screen, your arms crossed over your chest, fingers digging into your arms. You and Sonny had disclosed your relationship to the department, and while you knew he’d never cheat on you, he also had a wandering eye that you weren’t fond of…and this wasn’t the first time you’ve caught him staring at another woman’s butt.

The camera feed moved down to Sonny’s phone, Olivia’s message on the screen telling him to stop taking in the sights. He quickly tucked his phone away, going back to scanning the johns at the party.

“When can we move in?” you asked tersely. You wanted tonight over with, partly because you wanted to bust this sex trafficking ring, but mostly because Sonny now knew he was in the doghouse, and the make-up sex would be mind-blowing.

Olivia glanced at you before her eyes returned to the screen. “We need just a little bit more,” she replied. But you never got to find out what else Liv was looking for, not when a scuffle broke out and a gun was being brandished. You, Olivia, Amanda, and an army of officers stormed the party, making arrests and getting the girls out of there.

Olivia gave you the pleasure of arresting Sonny, who rose his hands and said a very sincere, “I’m sorry,” to you as you cuffed him, leading him out the door.

 *********************

Once at the station, Sonny apologized profusely, begging for your forgiveness, and promising to go to confession for it.

“Look, Son, what’s done is done.” You sighed, closing your eyes. “As long as it’s only looking, and nothing else—”

“Of course! I’d never cheat on you, doll. I love you, and I’ll prove it to you when we get home, just how much I love you,” Sonny replied, giving you a heated kiss. You resisted a moment before melting into his touch, kissing him back just as fiercely. It wasn’t like you didn’t look at attractive people as they walked by. Besides, you trusted Sonny with your life.

Slowly, you pulled out of his embrace. “Come on; we gotta go interview the girls,” you said, pulling him towards an interrogation room. You opened the door, Sonny following close behind you, but you paused for the briefest moment—the woman you were interviewing was the one that Sonny had been checking out at the party.

She seemed surprised to see Sonny there, no longer in his baggy, undercover attire, but in his crisp suit he normally wore to work. “What’s going on here?” she asked.

You gave her a warm smile, despite the anger that you were shoving down. What did she have that you didn’t? “We’re going after your pimp, and we’d like your help,” you explained. She looked doubtful, and you continued, “we can keep you safe; you never have to go back to that hell.”

“You can’t keep me safe,” she replied in a small voice. Then, louder, “and besides, I liked my life just how it was. Now let me go…before….”

“Before your pimp beats you?” you finished for her. You sighed; this was getting you nowhere. “Look, why don’t you tell us your name, first? I’m [Y/N], and this is Sonny,” you gestured to Sonny, who was still standing next to you, watching the interaction, waiting for an opening. Either this woman would be completely against talking to a man, or she’d do anything he’d ask…and Sonny was still trying to gauge her. But you noticed how her eyes sparkled when they slid over his tall form, and you clenched your jaw.

Finally, she looked back to you. “I’m thirsty. Got pepsi or something in this place?” she asked with an annoyed voice.

You gave her a hard look, and Sonny said, “yeah, we do.” Not taking his eyes off the woman’s face, he suggested softly, “[Y/N], why don’t you grab her a drink, eh?”

You told yourself over and over again that this was simply an interrogation tactic, that Sonny was playing her. But you were still seeing red as you left the room, heading for the vending machine.

“He’s just doing his job,” Olivia said as you came back, leaning against the glass and watching, listening.

“I know,” you replied, coming to stand next to her. Sonny had moved to lean against the table in the middle of the room, standing directly in front of the woman, close enough to touch her. You took this time to really look at her; her long, straight, brown hair, her small, perky breasts, her impossibly long legs, and her butt that Sonny had been so enraptured by. All of this was wrapped in a skin-tight, black dress that barely covered her chest and ended mid-thigh; though, the material was hiked up since she was sitting.

“We really can protect you,” Sonny was saying softly to her.

She looked up at him through her eyelashes, with her big doe eyes. “I bet you could protect me…but I don’t trust the police, Son….” She ran her fingertips over his thigh, and you’d seen enough. You made your way to the door with her soda, ripping it open. Sonny had the decency to look embarrassed, standing up straight from the table, but the woman just smiled knowingly at you.

“Here’s your pepsi,” you spat, placing it down hard in front of her. But before you could say anything else, Olivia was at the door, pulling you and Sonny out, but you could hurt your chances for information because of your anger.

“What the fuck was that?” you half-yelled at Sonny as the door closed behind him.

He put his hands up in surrender. “What? I got information from her, something that wasn’t happening with both of us, there!”

“Oh? And what information did you get, huh?”

Sonny went on the defensive, his voice rising to match yours. “I got her name, I got the name of her pimp, and I got when and where the next party is!”

You glared at him, pissed he was able to seduce information from her. “How do you know she’s not playing you—”

“Enough you two,” Olivia ordered, her voice cutting through yours. She waited a moment before continuing, “we’ll look into what Emma told you. We’re also going to put her in protective custody until we get her pimp, which Sonny found out is named Clayton.” You nodded, trying to let your rage and jealousy drain from you, but it wasn’t going away so easily. “Now go home; it’s been a long night. I’ll see you two in the morning.”

 ********************

It had been a week since the bust at the party, since the night Emma had come into the precinct. You and Sonny had worked through it; it was an interrogation technique, to flirt for information. And Sonny reassured you—with his words, his mouth, his fingers, and every other part of him—that he loved you and only you.

But nothing, nothing, could prepare you for when you had left for the day, realized you had forgotten your jacket, and rushed back in, only to find Emma pushing Sonny against the lockers, kissing him. His hands were on her shoulders, and as you watched, she wrapped a leg around his waist.

“What the fuck?!” you screamed. Turning on your heel, you headed for the door, needing fresh air, and to get that image out of your head.

Sonny pushed Emma off him, his voice calling out your name as he followed you. “[Y/N]! Come back, please! Talk to me…let me explain—”

“I don’t want to hear it,” you retorted, your voice venomous. You made it outside, Sonny right behind you.

“Please, doll, let me—”

You whipped around to glare at him, pointing a finger into his face. “No Dom! Just, no. I’m done, I’m….” Tears appeared in your eyes, and you cursed yourself for crying. You didn’t want to waste tears on him when you were fuming. In a soft voice, barely audible above the hustle and bustle of NYC, you murmured, “Did it mean anything to you? Did I mean anything to you?”

You watched Sonny’s heart break in his chest, his face falling and tears appearing in his own eyes. “Of course, you did—you do. You’re…you’re everything—”

“Well, you have a funny way of showing it,” you replied, waving down a cab. Sonny could do nothing but stand and watch as you got in, the cab pulling away from the curb.

 *******************

Sonny texted and called you a few times over the next few days. You ignored him, trying to work through your anger so that you could at least be levelheaded when you talked to him next. But not being able to go to work, and living in a fucking hotel room, wasn’t helping your rage. You had thought about going to your shared apartment when Sonny was at work, but the thought on packing things up filled you with dread. So, you waited, trying to work through your emotions.

Suddenly, there was a knock at your door, Sonny’s voice coming through it. “[Y/N], I know you’re in there. Come on, let’s talk.” You folded your arms across your chest stubbornly, not moving from your bed. You could hear him sigh, then say something muffled to someone else. There was a beep, and then your door was opened, the hotel manager having let him in.

“Fucking really? Take a hint, Dom—”

“Please, just…please listen,” Sonny said, coming into your room and closing the door behind him. You glared daggers at him, ignoring the way your heart strained at seeing him. He looked haggard; his face scruffy, his eyes bloodshot, his hair a mess, his Henley untucked and stained.

“Fine. What do you want to say?” you spat, trying to hang onto that anger that was quickly fleeing at the sight of his defeated form.

“I—I loved you, still do, with all my heart—”

“Then why did you let her get in between us?” you asked softly, and the fight drained from you as he winced, as if you had hit him.

Sonny looked crestfallen. “I—I didn’t, though. That’s what I’ve been trying to tell you; Emma…she—she assaulted me…not that I’m pressing charges, but I swear to you—”

“And you expect me to believe that? After you were ogling her? Flirting with her?”

He cleared his throat. “I can prove it. There’re security cameras in the locker room…. I—Liv already showed me the footage.” Sonny’s shoulders slumped, and he looked at the floor. “Ya know, we’ve had so many victims tell us that they…that they freeze. And I never really understood that until now…. When—when Emma pushed up against me…when she kissed me, I—I froze. I couldn’t bring myself to shove her….”

You scrutinized Sonny, trying to see any trace of a lie, but you only found a sad, remorseful man. “Fine. Show me,” you said, getting up.

 ********************

The ride to the precinct was quiet, the wait for TARU to pull up the footage even quieter, tension thick in the air. You watched with wide eyes as Emma entered the precinct, just after the elevator doors closed behind you—she had taken the stairs. She had quickly found Sonny, started touching him: his arms, his chest. Being the good detective he was, Sonny tried to gently stop her, push her away. You watched as he led her to an interview room, then he left to go to the vending machine, presumably to get her a drink. On his way back, Emma had cornered him in the locker room, which you had to pass through to get to the vending machine. She reached out to touch Sonny’s chest, but he gave her a little shove, obviously losing patience with her. And that’s when she flung herself onto him, kissing him, and he stumbled backwards from the force of her body colliding with his. He was pressed against the lockers, and he dropped the can of soda, his hands hanging limply for a moment. Then his hands went to her shoulders, and he tried to push her, but she latched on tighter, pulling herself closer.

You watched, tears in your eyes as you appeared in the doorway, catching Emma sexually assaulting your boyfriend, and blaming him for it. You could feel Sonny’s gaze on your face as you watched the screen, even as TARU stopped the playback. Your heart was in your throat, and you tried to swallow past the lump.

“D-Dominick…I’m so…” you started, but he cut you off with a hug, his arms pulling you tightly to his chest.

“I know—I get it, okay? I understand,” he murmured into your hair. You hugged him back, sobbing softly into his chest.

“I love you, Dom…I’m so sorry, baby. I love you,” you whispered, tugging him impossibly closer.

“I love you, too, sweetheart; I would never cheat on you, ever.” Sonny’s long fingers stroked your hair. “Come on, come home with me, please. I’ve missed you so much.”

You were already nodding against him. “I’ve missed you, too.” You both headed out of the precinct, an arm wrapped possessively around each other. “I’m gonna punch Emma in the face next time I see her,” you promised.

Sonny laughed. “That’s fair…. At least she gave up her pimp.”

“Yeah, but I don’t share.”

[lilxberry]

You Owe Me 20 Bucks - Steve Rogers

Synopsis;

Steve just simply wants to protect you, you find it extremely annoying how his plans to protect you get in the way of you doing your job as an Avenger, and Bucky and Sam have a running bet.

Warnings: A lil bit of language. Arguing. Mentions of violence. Mentions of betting. Wack ass stuff man. Fluff.

Words: 2,030

Pairings: Steve Rogers x Reader 

_______________

You walked into the meeting room, ready to be briefed by Fury for the next mission. This would be your first assignment in 2 months since your injury. Ever since you had woken up, everyone had babied you, especially a certain super soldier, which ticked you off to no end.

You took your place in-between Wanda and Bucky and prepared yourself for the droning voice of Fury and the nagging of Steve. “Hey, you good?”

You inwardly groaned at Bucky’s question. It was nice that the team cared so much but it was a bitch to deal with all their incessant babying and over protectiveness. “I’m fine, Buck, really.”

As if he could sense your irritation, he retreated and opted to leave you be. You signed in relief and sunk back into your chair. Just as you had gotten comfortable, Fury entered, followed by Maria then Mr. Patriarchy himself. “Avengers.” Fury simply greeted to grab everyone’s attention.

And so, the briefing had commenced and passed by, the only thing left on the check list was to discuss who will be part taking in the mission. “A team of 6 will be going in, the others will stay behind and only move out when needed. Stark, Barnes, Barton, Maximoff, Y/L/N, you 5 will be joining Rogers at the base.”

Before any body got the chance to voice their readiness, Steve had spoken up. “Y/L/N isn’t ready.”

You saw red as he had easily diminished your ability to be out in the field. “Like fuck I’m not ready.” You quickly stood from your seat so fast, the chair had scrapped against the floor before falling over harshly.

“If I say you’re not ready then you’re not ready.” Steve crossed his arms over his chest, standing his ground. Thing is, you were stubborn, every Avenger and agent knew that about you.

You walked towards in quick, long strides and stared him down, inches from his face. “It’s my body, I know when it’s damn ready.” You stepped back and looked towards Fury. “So, when we due to head out?”

“In an hour.”

“Great, see you guys at the jet.” You quickly turned on your heel and headed towards your room, ignoring the calls of your peers.

“I guess that’s all. Dismissed.” Fury disbanded the meeting, sending the remaining Avengers to prepare for their mission or go back to lazing around, ready to be called out as back up. Steve sighed heavily through his nose as her closed his eyes and pinched the bridge between his pointer finger and thumb.

As Bucky passed his best friend, he patted his shoulder and flashed him a tight-lipped smile, sympathising with his friend. This is gonne be one long mission.

_______________

The time came for the team to meet at the jet. You stepped on to the platform and headed over to the jet to meet with the others. Just as you placed one foot on to the flying metal contraption, the blonde of the 40’s due spoke. “I said you’re not ready.”

You rolled your eyes and chose to ignore his complaints. Ensuring your gear that you’re decked out in is securely strapped on, you made haste towards a free seat at the back off the jet, unfortunately getting blocked off by Steves’ broad and muscular form. You huffed and quickly side stepped him, proceeding to sit.

“No matter how much you nag, they’re still gonna tag along, dude. May as well give up before you’re driven mad.” Clint commented, eliciting a soft giggle from Wanda and a snicker from Tony, both trying desperately to cover their amusement up in any way available to them.

“He has a point. Maybe instead of butting heads, you could help her through this mission.” Bucky spoke directly to his friend.

“Or they could actually listen and not go.” Steve narrowed his eyes towards your ignorant and slouched form, folding his arms across his chest. Tony rolled his eyes before making his way through the jet to pilot it.

“Okay losers, can we all quieten down now. Daddy’s got a jet to fly.” And with that, Tony had the jet off the platform and heading to your destination. Steve huffed and sat opposite you next to Bucky. He stared you down whilst you continuously ignored him through the whole flight.

_______________

“What the hell, Steve?! I had it handled!” You yelled at your fellow Avenger as you all boarded the jet, ready to head back to the compound.

“Didn’t look like it!” Steve had replied, matching your volume.

You scoffed and threw your arms up into the arm in exasperation. “You have a seriously fucked up hero complex, you know that?!”

The yelling match continued between you both throughout most of the flight. By this point, the others within the small confides of the jet had pounding migraines and are in need of about 20 Advils each.

As soon as the jet landed back within the grounds of the compound, you both stormed out of the jet, heading to your separate rooms, both slamming them shut as loudly as possible, hoping the other would hear and convey how pissed you were.

“Ah, young love.” Tony quipped as his suit disassembled from around his form.

_______________

It had been a full week of you ignoring Steve. He had tried previously throughout the week, but you blanked him, simply as if he hadn’t existed. He knew he seriously messed up the second enemy after enemy headed towards you. He knew you could have easily defended yourself and have taken them out even easier but, you were right. He does have a fucked up hero complex.

But mostly, he always felt the need to protect you. Falling in love with a completely independent and able Avenger is a tough gig. Apparently.

Steve had had enough and decided he was going to talk to you, whether you wanted to or not. He marched with determination straight to your room and knocked brashly. He heard you groan from the opposite side of the door before the light patter of your feet pad along the floor. You swung the door open widely with a look of annoyance across your face, but it had quickly faltered as you tried to close the door just as hastily. He jammed his foot between the door and its frame.

“Leave me alone Steve.” He could easily detect the irritation and impatience within your voice. He pushed the rest of the way into your room and you groaned loudly once again. “You clearly don’t understand English, should I try Spanish? German? Ukrainian? Mandarin?”

“Okay, I get it, you’re pissed and you don’t want to see me. Well tough shit.” He stepped closer to you as you stood your ground. “We need to talk whether you like it or not.”

“Oh yeah? And what do we need to talk about exactly?”

Steve inhaled deeply before continuing. “About how you’re acting. You can’t act like a stroppy teenager whenever someone gives you a helping hand during a mission.”

You scoff, unbelieving of what he is saying. “That wasn’t a ‘helping hand’, that was undermining myself as an abled agent and my abilities to handle the enemy. That wasn’t a ‘helping hand’, that was throwing me to the side while you did all the work.” Your shoulders heaved up and down as your breathing became heavier the more anger filled you.

“Jesus Christ Y/N, I was trying to help! I led the mission that day and it’s my responsibility if any of you screw up. All I did was ensure none of you did.” Steves’ voice raised to match yours.

“NO! You ensured I didn’t screw up because “I’M NOT READY!”” At some point you had started to pace around the room in an attempt to calm you.

Steve ran his hand down his face as he groaned loudly. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath in, willing himself to calm himself down also. “I just care about you Y/N/N. Please, why can’t you just understand that.”

“Well, you should go care about someone else. I didn’t see you hounding Starks’ ass about being careful.”

“Jesus H Christ, I’m in love with you, alright?!” Steve had exclaimed loudly in exasperation. You froze on the spot and slowly turned, shock evident across your face.

“Wha-what?” You stuttered out in a quiet whisper. Steve registered what had just slipped passed his lips and opened and closed his mouth, attempting to come up with some form of excuse for what he had said. “What did you just say Steve?” You spoke, your voice raised, pronunciation clear.

Steve sighed and looked down before tilting his head in the slightest to gaze into your eyes as he spoke sheepishly. “I said I’m in love with you, I love you.” He searched your face for the slightest inkling of reciprocation in the mix of a million emotions displayed across it. It had been a good minute or so of silence as you comprehended what he had just told you. He began to feel self-conscious and paranoia presented itself within him deeply. “Please say something.” He pleaded, his voice quiet.

This seemed to have snapped you out of whatever trance had engulfed you and you swallowed thickly as you looked up at him with wide eyes. You willed yourself to be brave as if you were back out in the field. You charged forward and crashed your lips to his, the move bolder than what you were used to doing.

You grasp on to him tightly, afraid he would pull away, although, you knew that was not going to be the case for he instantaneously reciprocated the intimate action with as much gusto and desperation. His larger hands came to hold on to your hips, knuckles turning white from how tightly his hands balled up your shirt.

Sooner than you had liked, you both parted and laid your foreheads against the others as you panted, desperate for any intake of oxygen. “I love you too, Steve.” You whispered breathlessly, looking up into his beautiful, blue orbs. They had even seemed to have an extra shine in this moment as you gazed deeply into them.

He smiled a huffed out a small chuckle, his thumb rubbing up and down against your side in a soothing and loving manner. “God, you drive me crazy.”

You both continued to stand there for what felt like hours when in actuality, was only a minute or so. Suddenly, a loud knock at the door echoed throughout the room before opening and revealing Sam and Bucky on the other side. “Hey, you guys comin-oh, damn, our bad. We’ll uh, leave you to it.” And with that, Sam quickly turned and shoved Bucky out along with him as he closed the door behind them.

“I think you owe me 20 bucks.” You heard Bucky’s voice through the door which had muffled the sound slightly.

“Man, I was sure they’d go another week before one of ‘em confessed.” You heard Sam whine as you presumed while he fished out the bills from his pocket to hand over to his apparent betting partner.

Their interaction had caused both you and Steve let out a small bout of laugh before turning your attention back towards one another. “I guess we should head down for food, huh?” Steve suggested whilst he had a boyish grin etched upon his face.

All you could do was mirror his smile and release a near inaudible ‘yes’ as you nod and step back, taking his larger hand into one of your own. He quickly pulled you towards him to lay a final pure, sweet, gentle kiss upon your plump lips. “Let’s go.”

He led you out of your room and towards the elevator, ready to join the others for food. As you stood in the elevator, you felt Steves’ gaze on you. You turned you head and sent him a wolfish smirk. “Bet you 20 bucks that they told everyone.”

Steve threw his head back in laughter as he wrapped his arm around your shoulders and brought you closer into his side. “You’re on.”

_______________

Those pants are nice, yeah, just the pants, definitely just the pants I’m admiring, nothing else... *definitely is looking square at his ass* ...yeah man, nice pants...

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I did a Steve fic, noice

I’ve been super sucky with fics recently but I mean, college stuff, losing family, this, plus messing my knee up badly yesterday after accidently yeeting myself down some stairs, it be like that 

I really hope you enjoy this

As always, constructive criticism and requests are welcomed and greatly appreciated :D

[angryschnauzer]

Lobby Hero

Summary:  When your creepy ex turns up at an event you are attending with your friend you stay for as long as you can, before calling an Uber to escape your ex. Thankfully the Uber driver is happy to play along and save you from the unwanted advances of your ex, being your hero in the hotel lobby.

Pairing: Colin Shea x Female Reader

Warnings: None apart from a slightly creepy ex, and a bit of smooching. Fluff with Meet-cute.

I do not operate a tag list, but if you follow @angryschnauzerwrites​ and put that blog onto notifications, you’ll get alerted each time i post.

I no longer have a masterlist due to having over 150 fiics, instead you can find everything on AO3 with the LINK HERE.

A/N: I changed this to Colin Shea (Chris’s character in What’s Your Number) as it was getting too close to real-person fiction if i left it as Chris. Plus Colin is an utter charmer and ladies man and i can so see him playing along with this situation.

Lobby Hero

Smoothing your dress down you smiled at your reflection in the ladies room mirror. It was the first time you’d been ‘out-out’ in months, your friend having convinced you to be her plus one for a work thing at a swanky hotel, and with an evening of entertainment and free drinks on the cards you were quite pleased with how you’d polished up for the night after hanging around at home after your split from your ex. Your dress that you’d ordered from Wish had turned out to be exactly like the photo, and you couldn’t help but to feel like a princess in it.

Back to your ex; Most people were surprised when the two of you had split up, but they didn’t know how weird your ex had gotten, the snide comments about your weight, how he treated you as ‘the woman at home’ even when you also had a full time career. When the gaslighting had started you’d picked him up on it immediately and had kicked his ass out of your apartment, thankful that the two of you had never moved in together properly and promptly got the locks changed. 

Emerging from the ladies room you saw your friend and waved, but paused when you saw the worried look on her face. She glanced across the room and you followed her gaze, your heart sinking when you saw him; your ex.

Frozen to the spot you didn’t realise your friend had moved until she linked an arm through yours;

“Are you ok with him here?”

“I… I guess… its a big room, maybe he won’t see me”

“If he does i’ll kick his ass for you”

Smiling at her you nodded, but you could feel your hands start to shake with nerves. The announcement that the guests should take their seats for dinner came over the PA system and the two of you made your way to the large ballroom, taking your seats as you fiddled with the beads on your dress. For now your ex was out of sight, and you felt a little of your nerves start to slip away… that was until you felt a hand on your shoulder, fingers dipping under the strap of your dress in a far too familiar way. Shrieking you suddenly stood and span around, eyes wide with fear when you saw your ex behind you, holding out his arms and leaning towards you;

“Honey…”

Suddenly an arm was thrust between you and gave him a hard thump across his chest, your friend stepping between the two of you;

“Buddy… go back to your seat…”

“Get out of my way bitch”

“Hey,  she broke up with you, its over you psycho, fuck off… NOW”

Her voice got loud enough to draw the attention of a number of other guests, a couple of the men standing to see if they needed to come to your aid, but as your ex backed away and disappeared from the room, you let out a sigh of relief.

The rest of the meal went without a hitch, but as drinks were served for the Mayor’s speech you saw your ex standing at the corner of the room, eyes trained directly on you;

“Hey…” you leaned towards your friend as you quietly spoke; “I’m gonna call an Uber, he’s still over there and he’s giving me the creeps”

“No… don’t go, i’ll call security…”

“No, please, i just want to get away from him. And you know he’d just pull some strings and be allowed back in”

Nodding she wrapped her arm around your shoulder as you logged onto the app and requested an Uber, watching the little timer spin around until it came up with a confirmation that your ride was on its way;

Colin will pick you up in a Silver Prius’ and gave you the licence plate. You nervously watched the progress of the driver on the real-time map, and a few minutes later you had an alert to say he’d arrived outside. Glancing over the room you could see your ex was still standing in the corner, still staring at you, and when a message from the driver made your phone vibrate you almost dropped it;

“I’m outside the hotel. Did you need any help with luggage?”

Your fingers paused over the keyboard, before you took a deep breath and started to type;

“No luggage, but could you meet me in the lobby? My psycho Ex is here and i need to leave, and i need him to think i’m leaving with someone i know…”

As the message clicked to ‘read’ and then showed the driver was replying, you looked up and discovered your Ex was heading slowly towards you, weaving between tables. Grabbing your purse you turned towards the door behind you, walking as quickly as you could. Your phone vibrated with a new message;

‘In the Lobby. Red check shirt and ball cap. Next to the big light bubble thing’

You quickly typed a reply;

‘Long Black and pink sparkly dress, coming now. x’

Pulling your dress up so you could take bigger strides, you started to trot on your heels, the sound of dress shoes behind you making you go faster, and as you turned the corner to the Lobby and saw him. 

Now your legs were carrying you faster, your heart skipping a beat as you called out his name, almost melting on the spot as he smiled and held his arms out for you;

“Babe… you look amazing!”

Without even thinking you ran into the arms of this stranger, shaking from fear and adrenaline as he held you to his chest;

“Shhh its ok…” he whispered to you; “Your ex, wouldn’t happen to be a weasly looking short dude in a green suit?”

“Yes, that’s him” you muttered quietly

You saw Colin glance up again before looking straight into your eyes as he spoke;

“You want a pretend friend or a pretend boyfriend”

“B-boyfriend?” you questioned, but your words were cut off by Colin’s lips on yours, and as he started to pull away you found yourself clinging to his shirt and pulling him back again. This time your mouth opened to his, his hand straying to your hip as his tongue danced against yours, holding you flush with his entire body before you finally parted, breathless with kiss bruised lips;

“Sorry… how about we get you home safe and well, huh?” Colin whispered, the two of you turning and started towards the doors, his arm around your shoulder when you suddenly heard your name called from close behind you. You knew it was your ex, but what you weren’t expecting was for Colin to suddenly turn, reaching out and grabbing your ex by the shirt and tie;

“Listen Buddy, she’s with me now, you come anywhere near her again and you will not live long enough to regret it, got it?”

“Y-y-yes Sir”

Letting go of him you both watched as your ex fell on his ass, Colin wrapping his arm around your waist as he steered you towards his ride. Opening the front passenger door for you, he stood like a gentleman as you sat and swung your legs in, carefully scooping the rest of your billowing dress into the car so it didn’t get shut in the door. Soon he was in the drivers seat and pulling away, the two of you sitting in silence as he quietly drove along the Boston streets. 

As you waited at a set of red lights you finally both spoke simultaneously;

“Thank you…”

“I’m so sorry for kissing you…”

Looking surprised you finally let out a laugh;

“Would it be pathetic of me to say the kiss was actually the highlight of my evening?... and really, thank you for playing along, i know i’m a complete stranger, but i really REALLY appreciate it”

“Hey, in that case, it wasn’t a problem… at all. If you don’t mind me asking, your ex… he seemed a bit… stalkerish…”

“We broke up 6 months ago… it took me a year to realise he was an absolute shit. The way he treated me, the way he spoke down to me. I have always been completely happy with who i am and what i look like, but he made me feel like crap, telling me to loose weight, that i should change my hair, act like the good little wife… we weren’t even fucking married!” you info dumped on the poor driver as he slowly made his way towards the address saved on your account. 

“Hey, it sounds like you made the right call then… cos’ just between you and me, you look fucking gorgeous”

Just at that point the onboard computer told him that you’d arrived at your destination, and you opened your purse to fish out your phone;

“I’m giving you a huge tip, you have literally been a life saver tonight….”

Colin gently clasped his hand over yours;

“You don’t need to do that…”

“Really, i insist”

“Well, how about you let me take you out for a drink instead; booze, coffee… whatever you want…”

His face was now just inches from yours, and you bit your lip as your gaze moved from his deep blue eyes down to his soft plump lips;

“I got coffee in my apartment?” you grinned; “What time do you get off?”

With a smirk he grinned at you;

“Babe, i don’t get off until i get you off”

“Oh you are so getting five stars…”

[walker-journal]

Blood on the Beach (Adam+ Dave)

Characters: David Herring (Selkie- Immo),  Adam Walker (Hunter - Tapir)

Summary: Adam encounters a hongrey seal. Dave is fighting for keeps but Adam disobeys protocol. 

Content Warning: Head Trauma, Vomit

The spellcaster’s blood was still thick and heavy in his mouth, but no matter how rich a delicacy it was, there was an even better prize on the table. Where before Dave had barely had the tiniest threads of self control, strained to the edge after so many days of resisting a hunger he still refused to seek help for, with the smell of selkie in the air, all bets were off. His focus was pinpoint thin, as he cut through the water, following the scent without realising it was so close to the docks he’d been trying to avoid for the past several days. Reaching shore, Dave strode out in soaking wet clothes that were stained in varying ages in blood.

A man in his early thirties was chilling on the shore, in shorts despite the chilly wind whipping around them as he read a well worn. Ollie George was skinny and sinewy, inclined to spending his time on the beach regardless of which skin he was wearing. As Dave approached, he sat up, squinted at Dave through the bright sunlight and smiled toothily as he waved. “Hey Dave! You look rough, have you- woah!” He yelped as Dave grabbed him to the throat, and dragged him backward. Scratching at Dave’s bloody arms, Ollie managed to get onto his feet, only to have the air knocked out of him as Dave slammed him against the seawall. Dave panted heavily, his teeth bared. But a tiny voice kept him from lunging just yet.

“Yo Dave I talked to Sebastian and…”

Adam strode down the ramp at the far edge of a nearby pier, jogging into the low tide zone toward where he’d caught sight of his noodling partner. The crunch of Adam’s shoes on the sand and shells paused as the Hunter took in Dave pressing another guy up against the cement sea wall. From the way the lean dude was struggling and Dave’s teeth were barred, Adam doubted he’d walked in on a mlm remake of the Shape of Water.

Hesitation costs lives. Adam sprinted across the remaining stretch of beach to barrel into Dave with a footballer’s full-bodied tackle.

Dave was aware of Adam in the way a horse might be aware of a gnat, some hind brain motor processing that he could smell the hunter nearby and opting not to care. A vein bulged in his forehead, pressing his forearm against Ollie’s throat as he opened his maw ever wider. Inch by treacherous inch. A lifetime of protecting selkies was slowly overridden with a hunger Dave did not know how to explain.

The hair was knocked out of him as Adam sent them both careening into the sand and rocky dirt. Ollie slumped against the seawall, clutching at his chest as he gasped for air. Dave swung his head round to look at him as Ollie began staggering towards the water and his escape. Normally, Dave would have kept his eye on Adam, the skilled youthful hunter who appeared the obvious threat. Dave barely even acknowledged him other than to slam a fistful of rocks and sand into his face. He rolled onto his knees and sprinted after Ollie, towards the waterfront.

Adam drew both legs anterior to his chest and kicked himself back to his feet and with an economy of motion born from a lifetime of drills. The Hunter had already drawn two tactical knives from their sheathes before he was even fully standing.

The next step was simple, practiced countless times, and Adam was already using the momentum from the kick-up to bring his arm forward and pitch a knife straight into Dave’s back. The impalement  would stagger the Selkie for a moment, and that’d be all the Hunter would need to end this.

Yet, the knife never left Adam’s hand. A flicker of indecision turned lethal grace into a baseball newbie’s first stumping on the pitcher’s mound, blinking sand from his eyes.

Could he really do this all over again? …What about this other guy running from Dave? Was it right to jeopardize his life for the sake of sentiment? ...Dave would never do this in his right mind...But Adam had already needed to put down plenty of people who couldn’t control themselves to save other lives...He no more right to spare Dave’s life then he had the right to take it.

Adam’s head was filled with contradictions, but silver and iron blades dropped to the sand as he sprinted headlong after Dave.

Sprinting under the pier, Ollie vaulted abandoned netting rigs, ripped up tarps, and something that might later be identified as a mummified hand, yelling as he tried to gain distance from Dave through the obstacles, but Dave ran with the same precision that he swam with, a predator nearly in his element even with saliva slobbering down his mouth. Making a last ditch effort, Ollie veered right toward the see, but the tide barely lapped at the soles of his feet before Dave tackled him, slamming both bodies into the floor. Veins bulging, Dave pinned Ollie’s arms under him, grappling with himself too, and the hunger that felt as wrong as it felt demanding.

Ollie bared his own seal teeth, eyes filled with terror as he tried to snap at Dave’s face, but he was pinned down by Dave’s forearm. He begged, voice creeping up in pitch with every frantic word.

“Dave, Dave, stop stop stop! Is this about the lobsters? Because I swear I didn’t know they were Karkinoids, I would never- please, Dave c’mon it was only one finger it was a- hey help! HELP!”

Dave’s head whipped to where Ollie was looking, and he growled deep in the back of his throat. “Stay back, hunter.”

“No, Dave man this isn’t you,” insisted Adam.

Looking at Dave now, teeth barred and feral in the eyes, Adam experienced an unwelcome memory of himself at the Hunter’s Moon. A twinge of self-loathing nausea came with recollections of the intoxicating power that’d bled into him from the red moonlight. Had he seemed just like this to poor Rio and Nell, hopped up to the crazy eyeballs on some paranormal bullshit till one barely resembled the original person?

A small pain in the Hunter wondered whether the true Adam underneath was really so different the then moon-drugged killer his friends had confronted on the glass lake, but Adam pushed such thoughts aside.

All that mattered was that whatever had gotten into Dave, literally, he shouldn’t have to wake with a stomach full of fellow selkie.

“Sorry dude, gonna have to eat me to get rid me. Noodler-bro  unity.”

Adam sprinted  towards where the two paranormals were grappling and shifted his center of gravity and thrust forward his right leg while keeping the left leg slightly behind it. The Hunter hit the last stretch of sand into a rough slide tackle that’d have earned an immediate red card on any soccer field. Adam’s low hooking kick slammed into Ollie as if he were the soccer ball, directly hitting him a combination with mutant strength and accelerated leverage, wrenching him from the other Selkie’s grasp by blunt impact. The rest of Adam’s momentum carried him bodily into Dave in a unguarded full-on collision, a price to pay for getting the hostage outta there.

Dave lunged for Ollie as he was knocked out of Dave’s grip, but Ollie grunted, rolling out of Dave’s reach, clutching his side. He didn’t even get to his feet, scrabbling into the water without a second glance at his assailant or his rescuer. He slipped into the waves as easily as if it was his second skin, gone, while Adam slammed into Dave. With a growl of bared teeth, Dave salivated over the fresh meat trapped underneath him, even though he was furious at the loss of the tastier prize. “No.”

When it came to killing hunters, the easiest thing was to ambush them, pull them out of their element and into the water.  Even the weakest of them was stronger than he was on any day of the week, with the training and energy to go along with it. Take out the limbs, get the throat, don’t let them find their balance. Kill before they could land a single blow, because if a hunter wanted you dead, that was all the hope chance you had. Dave couldn’t separate his training from Adam any more than he could separate the hunger from his rationality. He took as little note of his own desire not to kill and eat Adam as he did Adam’s desire not to kill him.

With a quick shift of his weight, he trapped on of Adam’s arms under his body weight, and opened his mouth wide, but it wasn’t Adam’s throat or head that he aimed for, but the meat of Adam’s shoulder on his other side.

For a moment Adam’s whole world was just flares of veined red in a black tunnel as pain lanced though his shoulder into the bone. His body begged to pass out. Adam’s back arched as he spasmed with in agony. Dave’s teeth closed like an aspiration straight into the marrow. Warm blood broke like a wave down over Adam’s back to stain the sunbright sand. Shock threatened at the threshold of his guts like an approaching wave of cold.

The Hunter willed himself to stop spasming as training ran his mind through the next steps of getting out of this hold. If Dave wrestled him to the water and got his neck exposed, Adam’d be arguing about today’s Black Bears game with Dad in under a minute.

But although his reflexes were primed to end this now, Adam fought back against that  lifetime of muscle memory as a higher purpose than just survival gave his mind clarity through pain.

Adam let out a ragged rap of pain as he twisted in Dave’s grasp, tearing his own flesh further with the movement. He swung up his free arm toward the side of Dave’s head. While survival instincts screamed to cave Dave’s head in, enough of Adam’s reason remained to hold back.

Instead Adam used the flat of his palm to try to daze the Selkie enough to break his hold, even though ever bit of training dictated that a puncturing blow to the jugular with mutated strength would be the “correct” move.

There was a moment when Dave’s teeth met the resistance of bone, that only lasted the length of two heartbeats, where he could have bitten right through the socket and leave Adam without an arm he could ever use again. Or he could twist his head and tear away the flesh already between his teeth, so that Adam’s blood would spurt over the sand rather than in his mouth while Dave could finally, finally eat.

He did neither, frozen in an internal battle as ferocious as the external, slowly increasing the pressure on the bones between his teeth as muscle and sinew popped to get the bone out of his way. Coppery blood coated his tongue, lips and chin, tantalisingly close to what he wanted and so far from what he wanted it might have been on another planet.

Stars exploded from Dave’s temple, the force of Adam’s blow knocking his jaw loose and body off balance, giving Adam all the time to get out from under him, leaving a bloody mess in the sand and granite. It wasn’t the first time Adam had bled on a beach in front of Dave, leaving a mess in his wake as he’d bargained with a monster for his and Dave’s life. Dave blinked away the stars and sentimentality as he bounced to his feet.

Like the bloody mess of his arms and the deep gash in his face, Dave shook his head to shake off the growing headache, bared his bloodied teeth, and slammed Adam into one of the pier’s wooden pillars.

Everything flared white. The high pitched ringing in Adam’s ears made the foamy surf sound like it was screaming onto the beach.

Adam had never been trained to merely subdue or fend someone in a fight. Adam wasn’t a police officer, bouncer, or street tough who roughed up squishy humans to assert authority. Adam had been conditioned as a soldier to fight ravenous immortals, giant beasts, and eldritch things from beyond this universe. These adversaries were so preternaturally lethal anything less then the most brutally efficient kill meant you were dead a second later. Even a lowly Spawn could tear a human in half. The common forest Carach could wade straight through small arms fire and pop open your ribcage like a candy orange. The mission had always been simple: kill this thing before it kills you and everyone else.

Except today apparently, where  Adam’s mission was to put a cease and desist on roid-rage Captain Ahab here.

Shit shit shit

Pain splintered into Adam’s back as the pier barnacles sliced his back open. Dark red stained the white clusters clinging to the pier as their razor edges tore into Adam’s flesh. The Hunter felt the bitter salt sting of the barnacle cysts grinding deep into the wound as Dave slammed  him against the sodden wood pillar, probably looking for an opening to sink those teeth into Adam’s throat.

The muscle memory of training immediately pulled Adam towards the lethal solution. A glance at Dave told the mutant where he could aim blows that’d punch through ribs with enough momentum to rupture organs.

Adam let out a shuddering breath, gagging on the bloody bile and trying to fight past the concussed fog in his brain. With another rasping exhale, Adam pushed away the deadly conditioning that’d served him so well for so long. That wasn’t why he was here.

Adam reached his arms up and behind his head to grab the opposite side of the pier pillar. The tired muscles of the Hunter’s biceps knotted as Adam hoisted himself into a dead hang up through leverage and brought his knees up to slam a quick two-legged kick into Dave’s gut. Adam pulled his weight off from the kick a bit just before impact, not wanting to break anything internal.

----

Crashing backwards into the sand, Dave grimaced as his distended, overful stomach pushed acid up his throat. Days and days of overeating while still famished were taking a toll, but he couldn’t afford to let the pain breath. Dave pushed himself back onto his feet, eyes fixed on the bloodied mess of Adam’s shoulder.

He should have torn that arm right out of its socket. The thought turned his stomach too. There were a couple dozen humans in the surrounding hundred feet. All Dave would have to do would be climb on the docks. No one up there would fight back, not enough to be a problem. A stranger wouldn’t create such a strong internal struggle. Dave glanced up at the pier, then back down at Adam, hands curled into fists so tight the skin of his knuckles might split.

“Get out of here.” Dave warned through grit teeth. Or begged.

Adam’s eyes followed Dave’s gaze up past the rock seawall towards where passerby in the harbor were blissfully going about their business. Understanding passed from killer to killer.

Adam shook his head. “Don’t do it.”

The effort of the deadlift moments before has taken its toll. One arm hung limp at Adam’s side as the exacerbated injury in his shoulder sent ripples of cold numbness that made it hard to even his finger. Adam’s clothes were a mess, torn by lacerations, barnacles, and sodden with spreading scarlet from one shoulder, all across his shredded back and the blunt-impact head wound now bleeding down his neck.

But Adam lifted his remaining functional arm in a boxing guard. He squared up to face Dave, feet angled parallel with the right slightly ahead of the left, chin up, eyes forward.  

Dave blurred in out of focus in Adam’s vision, seeming to merely be a distortion of light from the crystalline blue surf and pale sand. The athlete knew more than enough about bloodloss and concussions to realize the danger he was in, but running was a non-option.

“I’m not gunna kill you man,” Adam assured, moving slowly to the side and around as he looked for an opening in Dave’s guard. “Come back with me, we’ll find an antidote. I’ll keep you from hurting anybody while we figure out to get this out of you.”

Adam’s words only barely made it through Dave’s skull as he stared at Adam, mouth open and closing like it was longing for something to chew. An antidote? Dave didn’t need one of those. The only fix to starvation was consumption. But he’d known something had been wrong for a while, since that day on the beach with Griffin, since before.

Dave forced himself to look at Adam as more than meal and enemy. His eyes didn’t quite focus on Dave’s, his guard was one handed, and his expression resolute. His stance was as sturdy as could be, but on shifting sands that were quickly getting wet with his blood, Dave didn’t see much strength in him.

Maybe the hunter would be an easy meal after all. If Adam took half a step forward, he’d step on a seaweed coated net, that if Dave pulled on just right could knock the boy off his feet, maybe even hauled into the water. It was tempting. One more bite and even a hunter’s healing likely wouldn’t be enough to pull Adam back from the brink. Or, the steps up onto the pier weren’t that far either, a dozen satiating meals chatting idly about the May sun, just waiting for his bite.

“No.” Dave trembled, taking a slow, uncertain step back.

The hunger inside him wasn’t just poisonous, but monstrous too. The kind people like Adam were needed for. Dave swallowed, Adam’s blood still mixed in with the saliva dripping out of the corner of his mouth. This sliver of control, paid for in Adam’s injuries, wasn’t going to last. The hunger was clawing its way up his throat, down his gullet, like it might consume him from the inside out.

“No.”

Like if he didn’t eat someone else, his hunger might eat him. Dave took another step back, grimacing at the ache of a bruise forming under his ribs. A wave rushed water up to his ankles. The only advantage of Adam bleeding so profusely is that Dave could no longer smell the enticing scent of selkie. He opened his mouth to speak again, but couldn’t find any words.

Dave plunged into the waves, speeding away from shore, putting as much distance between him and Adam as he could before his hunger eclipsed his conscience once more.

Adam tried to sprint at the departing Selkie but his steps became sluggish in the sand. Dave was a black spot vanishing into foam as refractions from the surf were burning lances across his vision. Everything spun, the sky and sea switched places in a rush of blue. Light went out.

[star-whores-a-new-hoe]

A Strange Beginning//Obi Wan X Reader

part 1: Forever series

Summary: a strange disturbance in the force leads to you meeting A particular Jedi Knight. (And yes this is an old fic I rewrote.)

Word count: 1963

warnings: angst, grammar, cheesiness like two cuss words. Hope you enjoy.

An air of unease filled the polished halls of the Jedi temple, seeping into the minds of the residents there and creating a feeling of dread. Obi Wan walked briskly towards the doors of the Jedi council room, his head filled a multitude of anxieties. His thoughts quited when his sight fell on Master Windu standing outside the room. “Your thoughts are loud Master Kenobi.” “It seems That is the case with many today.” Obi wan said, walking towards his peer. “Who all is here?” “Sadly, most of our fellow Jedi are preoccupied at the moment.” Windu said as he opened the grand door to the chambers. Obi Wan only spotted one person inside the room, Master Yoda.  

     Obi Wan walked into the large, circular room, lined with chairs and Windu followed. The late evening sun shone through the large windows onto the decorative floor, giving the whole room a warm glow. “Master Yoda.” Obi Wan greeted the ancient Jedi as he crossed the room to sit in a chair. “Is this all the Jedi we have present?” “Afraid that it is, I am.” Yoda replied. Windu took his spot next to Yoda. “The sepritist movement has us spread thin, and the senate’s demand for Jedi is only growing.” Obi Wan nodded solemnly. He was well aware of the Jedi’s present troubles. “To the point we must get.” Yoda said. “A disturbance in the force there is.” “We are all well aware, I suppose our enemy can sense this too.” Obi Wan stroked his beard thoughtfully. “Do we have any ideas of what it could be?” Windu shook his head. “The only thing we know for sure is that it doesn’t necessarily feel... dark.” “And what precautions can we take to-“ Obi Wan was interrupted by an explosion of blue light from the center of the room. Blinded by the sudden light, Obi Wan shot up. He reached for his light saber and held the weapon in front of him, ready for anything. As the light subsided, Obi Wan noticed his fellow Jedi in similar fighting positions. The blue light faded and in the center of the floor say something the Jedi would have never expected.                                                             ***

You sat in the middle of a strange imposing room in utter shock, the strange book you had stumbled across in your hands. When your eyes feel upon the three armed figures you jumped to your feet. Panicked, you backed up to the other side of the room to distance yourself from them. You reached behind you into your backpack and grabbed your ukulele, you held it in front of you like a weapon. “Where the fuck am I?” You yelled. Yoda put away his light saber and the others followed. “Think I the disturbance this is.” “Why the fuck is that frog talking!” Obi wan lifted up his hands in a gesture of surrender as he slowly stepped towards you. “No one is going to harm you.” He said in a soothing tone. “Stay the fuck away from me! You warned. You were so overwhelmed that you didn’t even notice the tears streaming down your face. “Wh-Where am I?” “You are in the Jedi temple.” You have Obi Wan a look of confusion. “How did I get here?” Obi Wan looked at Windu, not sure of what to say. “You don’t know?” You paused and then shook your head. “Well, I-I, the book.” You lifted the book up for them to see. “I was just walking home and I saw this book so I went to pick it up and-“ At that moment, everyone’s attention turned to the door where a young padawan stood, breathless. He braces himself, trying to regain his speech. “M-Masters, droid army, right at our doors.” Windu turned to you. “Stay here.” He ordered as he and the other Jedi filed out of the room. You were in too much shock to say anything. The doors closed behind them and you stood alone in the room. You slightly lowered your ukulele and walked over to the window. You looked out at the vast city in front of you, the countless strange buildings, speaders, and signs. You were overwhelmed and confused but as you looked at the sight in front of you there was only one thing you knew for sure. This is not Earth.                                                            *** The three Jedi jogged to the doors of the jedi temple to meet their attackers. “I sense she is not a local.” Obi Wan said.

“There will be time to figure out the girl later, for now let us focus on the task at hand.” Windu said as they arrived at the entrance. The scene before them was one of pure chaos. Droids and Jedi were locked in battle, Blaster beams were being fired all over the place. The three Jedi Masters unsheathed their lightsabers and charged into battle.

Back in the council room, you paced back and forth, trying to get your thoughts straight. Unfortunately, the only thing in your head was, This is insane, this is insane, this is insane!  you ran your fingers through your hair and took a deep breath. Ok, I just have to find those guys that were in here before and they will get me home, yeah, that makes sense! With your ukulele/weapon in hand, you walked out the door.

You were unprepared for how big the building was, and you were surprised by how deserted it was. cautiously, you made your way through the halls, on the lookout for anyone who looked like a threat.

Outside the temple, the fighting had died down. The others seemed to have the situation under control so Obi Wan was heading back to check on you and try to piece together this situation. 

As he walked down the hall, he thought he could make out the sounds of a struggle. Warily, he snuck over to where the commotion was hiding in the shadows as to not be seen.

A few paces in front of him, he could spot two people struggling with their backs to him. the one he could make out looked like a bounty hunter . It was obvious that the bounty hunter had the upper hand seeing as he had the second figure in a choke hole. When the two figures turned, Obi Wan was shocked and irritated to see that the second figure was you.

He left from his place in the shadows and separated the bounty hunter from you. Quickly, Obi Wan disarmed him and with a swift blow to the head knocked him unconscious. 

He turned to you, obviously not pleased that you had left the council room. “Master Windu told you to stay put.”

“Why the hell should I listen too that window guy?” You said, annoyed. “I want to know what the hell happened and you have answers!” You rubbed your neck, there was a red spot from where the bounty hunter had held you. “Why was he trying to kill me?”

Good question. Obi Wan thought to himself. “Lets get back to the council room, We have much to discus. 

Masters Windu and Yoda returned shortly from the fight. They quietly conferred with Obi Wan while you made yourself comfortable in one of the many chairs.

The sun had almost settled over the busy city when the Jedi turned their attention to you. You sat up straighter and faced the Jedi with all the grit you could muster. “Where. Am. I.”

Master Windu seated himself in the chair directly across from you, never breaking eye contact with you. “Coruscant, the city planet. Are you familiar with it?”

“Look dude,I only know of one planet with people on it and that's Earth.”

Ignoring the fact that you just referred to a Jedi Master as ‘dude’,  Obi Wan said to Windu, “I’ve never heard of Earth, I’ll check the data base for it.”

“I am Jedi Master Mace Windu,” He said. “These are Masters Kenobi and Yoda.” He gestured to them respectively.

“Y/N.” You turned to Yoda. “Sorry I- Um, called you a frog.”

Windu sat forward in his seat. “Walk us through what happened before you got here.”

You sighed. “Ok, I was walking home from work, Hence my uke, and I saw this book,” You motioned to the mysterious book which lay forgotten in one of the chairs. “It was just laying there and one one was around so I went to pick it up. And now I’m here in this... Space place.” You slumped in your seat defeated. “How do I get home?”

The Jedi exchanged looks, silently asking each other, How do we tell her?

Over the next hour, they explained to you that they didn't understand how you got here or how to get you back. They told you of the disturbance in the force you had caused, the Jedi and separatists and how the droid army was most likely a distraction for the bounty hunter to get you.

“So that's why the guy tried to kill me?”

“Not kill, most likely capture.” Windu said. “We have the bounty Hunter apprehend but i doubt we will get much out of him.” He paused. “ I also doubt that this will be the last attack on you, The sith in the separatists must have sensed your presence as well.”

You looked out the window into the now night sky. “how long will this take to figure out?”

“We truly have no way of knowing.”

You frowned and nodded. “I-I just have so many questions, Where will I stay, Can I even eat the food here, Is there even oxygen here?”

Windu lifted a hand to signal you to stop rambling. “We will answer all that in good time. For now, Master Obi Wan has notified me that Senator Amadala’s apartment is not in use.” He stood up. “We will keep you there for now and send a medical droid in the morning to examine you.”  You watched Windu walk over and pick up the book. Nothing happened. 

“What about those Sith guys? You said yourself that there will be more attacks.”

Windu turned to Obi Wan. “Master Obi Wan, You will be assigned to protect y/n whilst we handle this. Please escort her to the apartment, I’ll meet you there shortly.” You watched Obi Wan nod at Windu before turning to you and giving you a reassuring smile.

“Come with me please.”

                                                          ***

Obi Wan showed you into the beautiful deep blue apartment, much nicer than any place you had ever stayed at on Earth. You gazed out the large windows at the busy airways. Flyings in the speeder over here had been quite the experience.

Obi Wan motioned to the hall way. “The bedroom is over there, you will find all the necessities and a change of clothes.”

“I-I’m probably gonna just sleep in this.” You said referring to the clothes you were wearing. You were in such a weird place emotionally and physically, the last thing you wanted to do was put on some space clothes. That would be too real.

“We have surveillance setup and I will be here to make sure everything is all right.”

“Great.” You said making your way towards the bedroom. Nothing like being watched by a space wizard all night. Before you made your way into the room you turned to look at Obi Wan. Your eyes locked with his beautiful blue ones, which gave you a strange sense of calm.” I know I seem really ungrateful but truly, thank you.” He smiled and nodded at you.

As soon as the doors closed behind you, you fell onto the bed and hugged the pillow. you could hear another person enter the room and begin taking to Obi Wan. You recognized the voice as Windu’s.

“I checked the data base Master Windu, there is no known planet called Earth.” He paused before continuing. “Where do you think she came from?”

The conversation halted for a moment before Windu said, “I think she is from somewhere far far away.”

You closed your eyes tightly. Maybe if I just wish hard enough I’ll wake up. You opened your eyes and felt tears well up in them. You were still in the dark bedroom on a strange planet.

[en-lil-sin]

The Door

By Mikayla MacPherson

The security guard's steps echoed in the empty hallway. It was a typical sterile basement corridor found in any large building; drab beige walls, overhead fluorescent lights spaced just far enough to allow puddles of shadows between them, sickly pale green colored floor tiles. The only sound came from the ventilation ducts and the guards' steps.

The guard never liked coming down here. Something about it always creeped him out. Especially when he was on a night shift, like he was tonight. He would always try to make his rounds down here as swiftly as possible, just long enough to check the few locked doors and to swipe his keycard against the two security panels to log his rounds had been made. The quicker he finished this round, the quicker he could get back to the security desk and watch shows on his phone. His partner would do the next round in two hours.

He turned the final corner to head back to one of the two stairwells, when he saw a door standing open across from the stairwell. He stopped and looked at the door, slightly confused because he didn't remember ever seeing a door there, but it had to have always been there if he was looking at it. He cautiously walked up to the door and looked inside. A red painted corridor lit by dim lights, and what looked like red an black tiles on the floor stretched before him. He couldn't see any other doors, but the corridor did have an intersection about a dozen feet beyond the door he was standing at, with another about a hundred or so further into the gloom. No sounds could be heard from inside the room, or corridor, or whatever was beyond the door.

Nobody should be down here, he thought. Not even the building's engineering staff would come down here, except for occasional routine maintenance. And even then, they were required to check in with the security desk before starting any work, and then again when the work was completed. He pulled out his radio and keyed it.

"Hey Amanda, the door across from the north stairwell is unlocked and open. Did any of the maintenance guys check in with you, to let us know they would be down here?"

Amanda, his partner for this shift, came back sounding bored and sleepy; "Say again, Greg? Did you say north stairwell?"

"Yeah, directly across from the bottom of the stairs."

"Uh...you ok, dude? There is no door across from either set of stairs." Her voice sounded unsure and confused over the radio.

"I'm telling you, I'm looking right at it. It's open and there is a hallway inside."

There was a pause from the other end, before a dismissive response. "Greg, seriously. Stop screwing around. I have worked here for three years now. I'm pretty sure I would know if there was a door there."

"Whatever you say, 'Manda, but I'm still going to check it out," he said.

"Suit yourself, check out your nonexistent door. Let me know if you run into any unicorns as well, while you're down there."

Greg rolled his eyes as he could hear her laughing over the radio. He clipped the radio back onto his belt, pulled his flashlight out and switched it on. It's beam didn't add very much additional light to the reddish gloom inside the door. He leaned in and called out.

"Hello? Anyone there? It's Greg from security." His voice seemed to echo in a strange way. As if the room or hallway was much larger than the entire basement itself. Silence was the answer. He called out again, "hey you need to check in with the security desk, you know. Hello?"

Still nothing. He stepped into the red hallway and began slowly walking towards the first intersection. He looked down both cross hallways.

"What the fuck?" Both directions seem to go on much further than was possible. With corridors branching off in both directions. He began walking to the right to the next branch. This too stretched away with it's own branching corridors and intersections.

His confusion grew even more. He turned back and walked past the first intersection to investigate the other side of the main corridor. It was similar to the first one, but did not mirror it, though it also disappeared into the distance. Hair on the back of his neck began to stand up, as his unease increased.

This is beginning to give me the fucking creeps, he thought. And I really want to get the hell out of here. He turned back towards the door. And then froze.

The door was not there. The corridor ended in a t-intersection, but where the door should have been, there was only a red colored wall. He was certain that this was where the door was. He didn't take any other turns other than walking a few feet down each side hall. There was no way he was not where he came in.

He walked to the t-intersection and placed his hand on the wall. It was cool and solid to the touch, feeling like poured concrete. He was certain that this is where the door should be, but only the wall stood in front of him. The first hints of panic began to tickle the back of his mind.

"Ok Greg. There is a logical explanation to this. You just mistook where you came in. It has to be nearby. Let's not let a spooky hallway end up making you feel foolish." He walked about twenty feet in one direction before stopping. Then walked back to the intersection and walked another twenty feet the other way.

Turning to look back down the main hallway, he saw only a hallway that was about a hundred feet long lacking any interesting corridors. Instead it terminated in a single right turn to the right. Cold tendrils of fear now began to well up inside him.

"No. No. No no no no no. This can't be real." His voice wavered as he looked disbelievingly at the now unfamiliar corridor. With a shaking hand he pulled his radio for the clip on the belt and keyed it.

"Hey, uh…'Manda. I seem to...uh...be lost. I don't care if you laugh at me the rest of the night, but I really need you to come down and help me find my way out of here." Only static answered him. He waited a moment and then tried again with the same results.

"Ok, very funny Amanda. I know you're having a good laugh at me right now. But I please need you to help me." His voice began to take on an edge of panic.

The light of his flashlight jumped about in his trembling hands as he slowly walked to the bend in the hallway and looked down it's length. There, about ten feet, was an intersection.

Oh thank God, I must have just gotten turned around. He ran to the intersection and looked both ways. His hopes came crashing down as he only saw more branching corridors. Vison now blurring, due to tears welling up in his eyes, he slowly sank to his knees.

"Greg, where're you at?" Amanda's voice echoed in the maze of passageways. But it sounded distant, and not quite right. Greg jumped to his feet and began running in the direction it sounded like it came from.

"Amanda! I can hear you! Keep calling out!" He stopped to listen.

"Greg, this way!" Now the voice came from a hallway on his right, and he dashed towards it. After a bit he stopped to listen again. Again Amanda's voice called out. But now it came from a new direction behind him. Then again from another direction. Her voice repeatedly came from random directions.

He stood up and picked a random direction to begin walking in. "Amanda? I can hear you, but it's hard to tell what direction you're in." He stopped to listen once again.

Ok, let's be logical about this. I know the size of the basement, this room or whatever the hell this is can't be that big, he thought to himself. He figured he would just continue to walk in one direction.

He walked about a dozen feet until he came to a tee. He took the right hand passage and walked about another dozen feet until he came to another branch to the left, which he took. Another few dozen paces brought him to another intersection. He continued walking straight ahead before being presented with another tee.

He was contemplating which direction to take when he froze. He thought he had heard something. But try as he might, the only sound he could hear was the blood rushing in ears. He peered into the gloom bathed in the red lighting. He swung his flashlight left and right, it's weak beam only penetrating about a dozen feet before being too diffused to be of any use. Suddenly, with a flash and a pop, his light went dead, leaving him cloaked in the low light corridor, now completely the color of blood.

He continued trying to move in one direction as much as he could. He finally admitted he was hopelessly lost in what seemed to be an impossibly sized area within the basement. He was scared, even succumbing to a full panic attack once or twice as he aimlessly traced his way through ever changing hallways that lead nowhere. He lost track of time, though he began to eventually feel both thirst and hunger. Still he wandered, ever deeper into a maze with no exit. Another bend, another intersection, another side passage. On and on.

Then slowly even the dim lights in the distance began to slowly fade out of existence, leaving him in an ever increasingly smaller pool of light. Oh shit, he thought. If the lights went out, and he couldn't get his flashlight to work again, he would be royally screwed, unable to find his way except to feel along the walls.

Panic now began to fully close in. Foot by foot the inky black darkness inches it's way closer. Again he thought he heard something. Like something whispering his name, calling out to him. Feeling like his options were dwindling, he began moving in the direction of the disembodied whisper. Soon Greg found himself entering the black void like darkness. Two steps later, he found himself suddenly falling forward as the floor seemed to just drop away.

It felt like he fell only a few feet when the sensation of falling stopped, and was replaced by one floating in a thick viscous fluid. Greg could feel it pressing in around him, as if he was wrapped completely in a warm waterbed, weightless yet somehow comforting. He tried kicking and attempted to swim upwards, or what he thought was upwards.

He felt like an insect trapped within a spider's web. Moving his arms and legs seemed to take more of an effort. He also began to notice another sensation. The feeling of warmth all over his body, like the warmth one gets when a little tipsy after a few alcoholic drinks. A moment later he realized that he could no longer feel his body at all. Only his consciousness remained.

His mind was floating free in the infinite void he found himself in. It was as if he had fallen through a hole into a space between different universes. The darkness now was all there is, and all there will be from this point onwards. It would go on forever in this infinite abyss of nothingness. Time no longer existed. There would be no future or past, only this single moment of time with eternity stretching out before him. And he would be utterly alone.

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

"Look, I'm telling you detective Sawyer, Greg said he had found a door that was unlocked and open in the basement that was directly across from the north stairwell," Amanda Kendell told the haggard looking police detective standing on the other side of the security desk in a cheap rumpled coat and tie. "Greg went into the basement to do his rounds, and never came back."

Detective Sawyer looked at her, then scribbled some notes down on a pad before asking, "and you're sure there is no door directly across from the north stairwell? Or a maintenance hatch? Something he could have crawled into? Something you might not have noticed before?"

Amanda shook her head. "Look detective, I get I'm only a rent-a-cop, but I have been a security guard for ten years now. Three working in this very building. I have been in that basement hundreds of times. There are no doors across from either stairwell." She sounded exasperated. She had explained it to this idiot now multiple times. She was beginning to think he really was not too worried about her work partner and friend who had gone missing two days before.

Another plainclothes detective came walking up with a uniformed officer at his side. Detective Sawyer turned towards them as they walked up. "Find anything down there?"

The second detective, whom she heard Sawyer call Chan, shook his head and said, "it's like she said, sir. There is no door on the wall directly in front of the stairwell. And the only other stairwell is the southern one on the opposite side of the basement. None of the other rooms have an exit, and all of them require keys that only the building engineers have access to to get in. Nor did the security cameras ever show the security guard exit the basement. Also, he was the only one that entered the basement two nights ago. It was as if he just went into the basement and disappeared."

Detective Sawyer stood there for a moment, then slowly nodded. He closed his notebook and stuffed it into an inside pocket of a charcoal grey jacket in desperate need of being pressed. When he was done he ran his hand over a stubbled face then shrugged. He turned back to Amanda, his watery pale blue eyes looking into hers.

"Thank you for your cooperation, Miss Kendall. There doesn't seem like there is much we can do at this point."

Amanda was bit taken back. He didn't even seem to care that Greg simply disappeared into thin air. Without even the slightest clue of where. Or even how.

"That's it? You're just going to say that's it? Are you going to even try to do a more thorough search, or even try to figure out where he could have gotten off to?" She began to get mad at the dismissive attitude of the detective before her.

"Look, Miss Kendall, I have dealt with these kinds of unusual cases for a while now. I'm pretty sure that there is nothing to further investigate here, nor will it do any good or produce any results. But if you encounter anything else usual, give us a call. Good day, Miss Kendall."

He turned to leave and told Detective Chan to give her his card. He turned back to her, nodded his goodby and left. Detective Chan walked up to her and handed her his contact information and card. She took it, anger bubbling up inside of her.

"It's no fucking wonder that people just disappear without a trace, and are never found again. Especially with cops like your detective Sawyer." She snatched the card out of Chan's hand, and tossed it into the security desk.

Detective Chan looked at her for a moment, then said; "he isn't one of our department's detectives. I don't know who he is, he showed up just prior to the missing persons call. Nobody knows who he is. We were just ordered to provide whatever assistance he needed, and to not ask any questions. But, anyway, thank you for your cooperation, ma'am."

[liesyousoldme]

in honor of eddie month, i’m releasing a collection of WIPs that will never be completed (usually because i just ran out of momentum writing them). they’re all eddie centric and canon divergent. here’s the third!

  this is about 3600 words! featuring a lot of internalized homophobia, a gay crisis, and eddie’s issues from the book with religion and worrying about going to hell and how that ties into his sexuality

“Meet back in half an hour?” Mike’s voice was cheery as he looked around at the six other Losers that stood in the hotel lobby.

Beverly and Eddie spoke at the same time – Beverly suggesting they do breakfast instead so everyone could get some rest, and Eddie loudly saying: “You expect me to get this nasty shit off of my body in less than thirty minutes?” He noticed Richie wince next to him. “What?”

“Dude, you’re screaming,” Richie told him, just as Mike agreed with Beverly.

“No I’m fucking not,” Eddie countered, frowning.

“As much as I hate to agree with Richie,” Stan said, “you are. Clean out your ears while you’re in the shower.”

Eddie gaped at his friend. “My… my ears?”

“Bet you got leper puke in there,” Richie added, grinning. Eddie was horrified. He hadn’t realized everyone else had already headed upstairs to their respective rooms to shower – except Beverly and Ben, who seemed to have entered the same room. He wasn’t even sure where Mike had gone.

“While you guys argue, I’m going to take a shower and call my wife,” Stan said, an embarrassed expression crossing his face. Eddie wasn’t sure what to say; they all knew the story: Patty had caught Stan in the midst of writing seven letters, stopping him from making any permanent decisions and calling Mike to find out what had been so awful that her happy husband had decided to calmly sit down and write suicide notes for the people he loved. Mike and Stan had explained the situation to her as well as they could; in the end, it had been his own wife who convinced Stan that he couldn’t turn his back on a promise.

“Well, I’ll see you in thirty minutes, Eds,” Richie said, when the door closed behind Stan. He started up the stairs when Eddie’s voice stopped him.

“There’s… I don’t have a shower curtain anymore,” Eddie told him, voice still too loud. “Or, it has a knife hole and blood on it…”

“Eddie Spaghetti, are you trying to get naked with me?”

Eddie floundered, face turning red. “Wh – I – No! I just. Shut the fuck up, Richie!”

Richie laughed, gesturing at Eddie to follow him. “C’mon, dumbass, you can use my shower. I’ll even let you go first.”

“Wow, my knight in shining armor,” Eddie muttered, following Richie up the stairs. He’d already brought his luggage back up and left it outside his own room, so he grabbed it and entered Richie’s room. Richie was already digging through the one small suitcase he’d brought.

“You know…” Richie started, then paused. Eddie looked at him, dropping his toiletry bag on the bed next to Richie’s luggage. Richie looked back, biting his lip. He finally shook his head. “Never mind.”

“What?” Eddie asked.

“Just take your shower, Eds,” Richie sighed. Eddie felt his stomach drop and knew there was disappointment on his face. Richie was looking down at his bag, still moving clothes around like he was looking for something, but Eddie was sure it was just a way to avoid eye contact. He waited for Richie to say something for a few moments, and when he didn’t, he rolled his eyes and went into the bathroom.

It was disgusting work, peeling off the clothes he’d been wearing for over 24 hours. He realized this outfit had been on an airplane, in a rental car, at a restaurant, in the basement of the pharmacy, covered in Leper puke, bled on from his own stab wound, through the Derry sewer system, into It’s lair and finally into the Quarry.

He already began making plans to burn all of it.

The shower in Richie’s bathroom was exactly the same as the one in his own, down to the ugly green color of the curtain, and the sight of it made him shiver. He stood under the water unable to close his eyes, constantly checking to make sure a crazy escaped inmate wasn’t waiting on the other side of the curtain with a knife. He’d seen Bowers’ dead body, but he couldn’t help but think the sharp end of a knife was going to tear through the curtain at any moment.

He started by cleaning out his ears, steadfastly avoiding looking at the gunk that he removed, then moved onto his hair, because he knew he’d have to keep his eyes closed the longest to rinse out shampoo and he wanted to get it over with. It took three washes before his hair felt sufficiently clean, and he’d only peeked around the shower curtain four times. After that, he used a washcloth from the hotel, lathered in his own antibacterial body wash, to scrub every inch of his skin until he was bright red but clean. He checked for an intruder only twice as he did so. He washed only the bottom half of his face with his face wash, choosing to scrub his forehead with the washcloth so as not to risk soap in the eyes. It wasn’t until he had opened the curtain and begun to dry off that he realized how hard his heart had pounded the entire time he’d been showering.

He was going to have to find a place with a walk-in shower, the kind with a glass door and glass walls, once he decided where he was going to live after he left Derry. Not only did his house in New York have tubs with shower curtains, but it had Myra and years of unhappiness, and he had already decided he was not going back.

Once he was dry, he stepped out of the shower and frowned, wincing when it pulled at his cheek. He wrapped the towel around himself tightly and exited the bathroom, already planning to avoid Richie’s gaze and letting his eyes go directly toward his suitcase on the bed.

However, they landed on Richie in nothing but a white t-shirt and boxers on the bed, instead. He was clean, hair wet against the pillow, and he grinned wolfishly at Eddie.

“Oh,” Richie said. “Do you have something you need to tell me, Eds? You sleep in the nude? I’m sorry, but I’m not your wife, so – “

“Shut the fuck up,” he groaned, ignoring the heat in his cheeks. “I forgot to bring a change of clothes with me. How did you shower?”

“I used Ben’s, since he’s busy fucking Beverly in hers,” Richie answered casually.

“Christ, Rich,” Eddie muttered, shaking his head. “Don’t… You can’t say shit like that, they’re our friends.”

“Just because they’re our friends doesn’t mean we have to pretend like they’re not absolutely having sex right now.”

“I’d prefer not to think about it, actually,” Eddie said, kneeling down to the floor where Richie had placed his luggage and looking for something to use as pajamas.

“I’d prefer to think about it,” Richie grinned, waggling his eyebrows at Eddie, who had glanced up to give him a disgusted look.

“Stop thinking about Beverly naked, Richie.”

“Oh, it’s not Beverly I’m thinking about,” he said.

Eddie whipped his head around, clutching a t-shirt in his hand.

“Oh, come on,” Richie said, looking in the opposite direction. His fingers fidgeted where they rested on his chest. “Ben’s super hot now, and Beverly’s like… my sister.”

Eddie wasn’t sure what to say. Was this a joke?

“Um,” he cleared his throat when his voice cracked. “What?”

“Don’t act all oblivious now, Eds,” Richie continued, though Eddie could hear the discomfort in his voice. He always resorted to that fake laughter, to jokes that didn’t quite land, when he was nervous.

“Uh – Is this…” Eddie trailed off, staring at Richie’s poker face. “I can’t tell if you’re being serious about Ben. Like, are you actually attracted to him?”

Richie glanced to the side. “Attracted to him how?”

Eddie felt the urge to stomp his foot. Richie was being difficult on purpose and he wasn’t sure how, but somehow this was a ruse to make fun of him. “Attracted to him the normal way, Richie. Like, physically. Sexually. Whatever.”

“Well I certainly wouldn’t say no if he offered,” Richie shrugged.

“I’m sorry,” Eddie said, “but is this you coming out to me right now?”

“I thought I did that at dinner when I talked about how hot Ben was.”

“Can you be serious for like, five seconds?”

“I am being serious!” Richie insisted, sitting up. Eddie pulled his t-shirt over his head without removing the towel from his waist. “I mean… if you’re okay with that?”

“If I’m okay… With you being attracted to Ben.”

“No, you fucking dumbass!” Richie rolled his eyes. “I don’t give a shit about Ben!” He paused and shook his head. “Okay, no, I give a shit about Ben, just not like that. I just meant… if you’re okay with me being… not straight.”

“Oh,” Eddie breathed. He was clutching his towel.

“I uh, probably should’ve done this at a better time, huh?” Richie said, cheeks red. He laid back down, staring up at the ceiling. “Like, when you’re not naked.”

“I’m not naked,” Eddie argued weakly.

“You’re naked enough,” Richie muttered.

“I don’t know what that means.”

“God, Eddie, please tell me you’re not this fucking stupid.”

“What the fuck is that supposed to mean?” Eddie asked angrily.

“Nothing,” Richie answered, shaking his head. “Just go back to your room, Eds. I’m sure your bed doesn’t have blood on it.”

“Dude, no,” he said.

“I’m not asking, Eddie. You need to leave.”

Eddie stared, eyes wide. He’d never heard Richie’s voice like that and it made his stomach drop. He felt glued to the floor, watching as Richie sat up and put his feet on the floor.

“Eddie,” Richie said, his voice still cold. “I can’t do this right now, okay?”

“Do what?” He knew he sounded whiny but he couldn’t help it, Richie wasn’t making any sense.

“I can’t talk about my fucking feelings with you, Eddie,” Richie yelled, standing up from the bed. “Not when I just came out to you and you had no fucking reaction, and you’re either stupid or purposely ignoring what I’m trying to tell you, and you’re fucking naked!”

Eddie exhaled heavily. “You said you were attracted to Ben.”

“Oh my God,” Richie laughed to himself, though there was no humor in it. “So you are actually just that fucking stupid, then.”

“I’m not stupid, Richie, I understand what you’re telling me!” He shouted, finding a pair of underwear and gripping them in his hand. “I just – I don’t know what to say! I don’t know what you want me to say!”

“Just say you don’t hate me,” Richie choked. He looked up and there were tears in his eyes. Eddie’s heart lurched. His eyes drifted down, taking in the way Richie’s t-shirt was tight on his broad shoulders, the way it was so thin he could see the pink of his nipples and the black of his chest hair, and even lower than that more black, leading down… “Eddie?”

His head snapped up, heat crawling down his chest. “I-“ He took a moment to regain his thoughts. “I don’t hate you.”

“You sound very believable,” Richie snarked, falling back down onto the bed. “Now that we’ve had this shitty conversation, can you please just leave?”

He was trying to sound unbothered, even verging on annoyed, but Eddie could hear the hurt underneath. He didn’t know how he felt, but he knew he hated to hear Richie sound like that. Gathering his resolve, he found a pair of pajama pants in his luggage and marched back into the bathroom, closing the door behind him. He made short work of dropping the towel and dressing, ignoring the way his hands were shaking.

He'd never thought of another man like that. He’d never –

But that was a lie, and he knew it.

He had thought, he’d just ignored it. Even though he’d told Myra he wasn’t coming home, she was still technically his wife. And for his entire life, he’d technically been a straight man.

(Straight men don’t want a better look at their best friend’s happy trail, his brain told him, and he shut his eyes tightly to try and make the mental image go away.)

So he occasionally spent a little too long looking at other men. And he occasionally thought of strong thighs and broad shoulders and low groans when he got off. But it wasn’t…

He thought back to childhood. Had he felt like this about Richie then, too? He remembered how close they had been, physically. Had he been leading Richie on, all those times he climbed into the hammock with him? All the sleepovers where they shared a twin bed? The movie nights where he hid his head in Richie’s shoulder during the scary parts?

Was it leading someone on if you wanted it, too?

What if you didn’t even know you wanted it?

Did he want it?

He didn’t notice he had begun to wheeze loudly until there were two knocks on the bathroom door. He jumped, gasping for breath he didn’t have. He felt dizzy.

“Eds? Are you okay in there?”

There was concern in Richie’s voice, none of the hurt from before. Eddie yanked the door open to find Richie standing on the other side, his worried look exactly how Eddie had pictured it.

“I’m sorry, Eds,” he mumbled, stepping back so Eddie had room to get through the doorway without getting too close. Eddie didn’t move. He tried to breathe in deeply, gripping onto the door handle. “I didn’t mean to freak you out-“

“Can you help me?” He asked, interrupting Richie’s apology. Before he could answer, Eddie went on. “When I – When I breathe, can you count? Slow; 4 in, hold for 4, out for 4?”

He wasn’t sure if Richie could even understand what he was saying, but Richie was nodding, grabbing his hand and leading him to the bed. Once he was sitting he closed his eyes against the dizziness and gasped for air, ignoring the tears that leaked out the side of his closed eyelids.

Richie’s voice was quiet as he counted. It only took a few minutes before Eddie was breathing on time with Richie’s count, and it was only then he realized they were holding hands. With his free hand, he wiped the stray tears from his face. Once he felt like he could speak again, he turned to Richie.

“Panic attack,” he whispered. “Not asthma. Myra always just made me use my inhaler but… I saw a therapist, for a little bit. She taught me how to… How to make it stop, without it.”

“Why would she still think you needed your inhaler if it’s not asthma?” Richie asked, keeping his voice at the same quiet level as Eddie’s.

Eddie huffed a laugh. “Because it makes me weak. She likes me weak.”

“Eds, you’re not weak. You’re probably the bravest of all of us.”

He shook his head. Richie didn’t say anything else, just sat next to him while he focused on keeping his breathing even. He didn’t want to think about Myra, or about the kinds of things you need to be brave for. Richie was still holding his hand, and he let his eyes wander his direction, past where their hands lay in between them and to Richie’s legs, bare in just his boxers.

He’d never paid much attention to his own legs, or really the legs of other men. It wasn’t something that had crossed his mind

(except maybe it had, when he was younger and laying in a hammock, but it wasn’t really about legs then, it was about skin, the electricity he felt on days they both wore shorts)

Except in his dreams, the fantasies he pretended he didn’t have, the ones where thick, hairy thighs were wrapped around him, around his waist, around his head, on either side of his own – and he pretended not to think about what was in between, either, how lightheaded he felt when he got fucked up enough to really let himself think about it, to think about what was inside Richie’s boxers

(but it wasn’t Richie’s cock he dreamed about (wasn’t it, though?) when he took enough of those anxiety meds that his filter turned off)

And he could see it now, at least the outline, where thin material didn’t do enough to hide what was inside.

He was breathing too quickly again.

“Eddie-“

“You need to put pants on,” he choked out, taking in a deep breath.

Richie stood up immediately but Eddie couldn’t look at him as he spoke, embarrassment evident in his voice. “Fuck, Eddie, I’m sorry, I didn’t even think about it – I – fuck, I swear I’m not – I really don’t want to make you uncomfortable-“

“It’s just-“ He sucked in another deep breath, clenching his fists. His mouth started moving without his permission. “It’s – It’s hard to have a fucking gay crisis when your legs and your – your fucking dick are right there and I want-“ he closed his eyes when he heard Richie’s breath hitch. “I just… want. And I can’t have because the second I do I’m – I can’t – It’s wrong, Richie. It’s wrong, right?”

Richie had put on a pair of sweatpants while he was talking, and now he knelt next to Eddie, making sure to keep some distance between them. His face was red, and Eddie could tell his breaths were harsher than normal, could see his own hands clenched into fists. But he didn’t say anything, just looked at Eddie, who choked out a sob. “Help me,” he begged, though he wasn’t sure what exactly he was asking for. He just wanted, and he needed that to be okay.

“It’s not wrong, Eds,” Richie finally said. He sounded breathless. One hand came up to rest on the mattress next to where he sat. “I know it – it was fucking hard growing up when we did, right? Getting called names and listening to people talk about AIDS like it was punishment, and even now, hearing all the bullshit from people who swear it’s all a sin, like it’s something we chose. But we didn’t, okay? You didn’t do anything wrong, and if you… If you choose to act on it, you’re still not doing anything wrong.”

“How do you know we won’t go to Hell?” Eddie whispered, grasping the comforter in his hands. He felt young, like a child asking for reassurance, but he felt trapped in his own mind.

“I don’t, really,” Richie answered. Eddie looked at him, helplessly. “But I think… You go to Hell for doing bad shit, right? For being a bad person. But there’s nothing – there’s nothing bad about love. I’m not doing anything bad by loving you.”

“What about sex? That’s – that’s the bad part, right? Love is great and whatever, but when it’s sex…”

“That’s not bad, either,” Richie promised. Eddie jolted when he grabbed one of his hands, uncurling his fingers from the blanket. “It’s natural and normal. But I don’t – I really don’t know what else to say, Eds. That’s probably more suited for like, intense therapy.”

Eddie nodded jerkily, laughing a little and squeezing Richie’s hand.

“Thank you,” he mumbled, “for talking me down. You were always the one that took care of me.”

“Yeah, well,” Richie shrugged, voice still soft. “I love you, so I’m gonna take care of you no matter what.”

Eddie wanted to tell him, wanted to say he loved him, too, but the words felt stuck in his throat.

“I’ll always let you take care of me,” he said instead, and hoped Richie understood what he meant.

“What are you going to do next? With – As far as, you know, your marriage?”

Eddie sighed. “She already knows I’m not coming home, but… I still have a job in New York. I guess I’ll have to find an apartment. I don’t know. And you’re right, I should go back to therapy, because I clearly have some shit to work out.”

Richie nodded. “I don’t think there’s a single one of us that doesn’t need to go to therapy weekly for the rest of our lives.”

Eddie snorted. “I don’t know how well a therapist would take it if you walked in and started talking about how you fought and killed an evil alien clown.”

Richie laughed. “Eh, I’ll write it into a standup routine instead. Comedy is basically therapy, anyway.”

“No,” Eddie said, vaguely alarmed. Richie was grinning at him. “No, Richie. It’s important to me that you understand joking about your trauma onstage to a bunch of strangers is not the same as therapy.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Richie said, waving him off. He crawled backward until he was leaning against the pillows again, the same way he’d been when Eddie had gotten out of the shower. The bed was big enough that if Eddie were to lay next to him, they wouldn’t be touching. He thought about it. “And if you want, I have an apartment in the city. I’m not there very often, I spend most of my time in LA or on tour, but. There’s two more bedrooms than I need and… I mean, we could split rent or whatever. Even if it’s just til you find a place for yourself.”

Eddie looked at him. He wasn’t avoiding eye contact, but he wasn’t making an effort to look at Eddie, either. His hands were folded on his chest.

“Okay,” Eddie agreed, taking a leap and situating himself next to Richie on the bed. His head hit the pillow and he sighed. He closed his eyes and tried not to think about how close Richie was. He fell asleep to the soothing sound of Richie’s even breaths, and when he woke he felt more rested than he had in years.

[rottmntquotes]

The Best He Can

Okay, so maybe saying what Donnie said was a bit stupid and insensitive, even for his standards, and maybe using the tone that he did conveyed a message that he didn’t mean, and maybe, just maybe he should have paid attention to Leo’s body language as the words that flowed into the air continued to rise in volume and lower in mercy. He understood that now, and he was desperate to apologize to his twin, despite how terrible he was at it. When all had been said and done, when hearts had been broken, tears had fallen, and nothing was able to break the tension as Leo ran away, everyone else knew that it was time to do something.

‘Besides,’ Donnie thought to himself, ‘even though apologizing isn’t my strong suit, this can’t end up being that difficult, right? It’s Leo for crying out loud! He’ll be ready to forgive and forget in no time!’

And now, because of that train of thought, Donnie found himself standing underneath a large tree in the forest, his brothers and father(s) near for moral support. It was on the eighth branch that had a decent length- and a curiously steady hold despite how thin it was -where Leo hung upside down, and ‘Oh my god, when did our tails become prehensile?!’,  Donnie thought to himself. When he sensed his family near, Leo’s head pulled into his shell, along with his arms and legs, leaving only his shell and his- just barely visible tail -out in the open.

“I don’t want to talk to you! Leave me alone!” came Leo’s muffled shout, pain evident in his voice. “Go back home!”

Of course, Raph took this as a challenge, and he- being the sweetheart he is who is willing to do anything to keep his family happy -started to climb the tree, ignoring the words of protest he earned from the others. Every now and then, the words “You’re too heavy! The branch won’t hold!” would be spoken, but Raph responded with a very convinced claim of “I’m a ninja! If I can be Light As A Feather, I can balance myself on a branch!”

Splinter muttered an exasperated curse in Japanese under his breath, having become fed up with the stubbornness that was very clearly an inherited trait of the Hamato family. “Raphael! The branch is going to break! You may have advanced in your Ninjutsu, but you are still the size of a car!”

“Guys! Stop worrying!” Raph scoffed, finally making it to the branch that his upset brother dwelled. With slow and steady steps, Raph inched over to Leo, smirking smugly as he continued on without making the branch even creak. “Hey buddy... I know that you’re not feeling too happy right now, but I promise that Donnie is really super sorry about what he said.”

Leo hissed loudly, momentarily poking his head out to snarl at Raph before retreating into the dark sanctuary that was his shell. Raph huffed, moving closer and closer to Leo. Low warning growls were directed at Raph, but he pointedly ignored them, reaching out a hand to try and grip the edge of Leo’s Carapace. In one swift movement, Leo popped out of his shell, unwrapping his tail from the branch and hopping onto one higher up. The sudden movement caused the branch to break, sending Raph falling flat onto his face.

“I’m okay.” Raph mumbled, lifting his face and shaking the grass off his face. “So... maybe me going up there wasn’t the best idea.”

“Oh really? Who would have guessed?” Draxum scoffed, looking directly at Donnie. “You! Purple! You were the one who started this! Go up there and soothe your brother!”

“But I-”

“DO IT NOW!” Draxum’s order echoed through the forest, and Donnie yelped, activating the wings on his battle shell and flying up to gently land on the branch his brother was perched upon. With one final glance to Draxum, Donnie sneered before turning his full attention to Leo.

“Um... hey...?” Donnie muttered, clearly unsure of what he was supposed to do and say. Leo scoffed at the awkward attempt of an icebreaker, his tail wrapping around the branch as a warning that any wrong movement or word would send him straight back to his hiding position. “Well what do you want me to do?! You know how bad I am at this!”

“Yeah, I do, and you wouldn’t have to do it if you hadn't said what you did.” Leo turned his back to Donnie, pretending to stare out at a cloud that was coincidentally shaped like a rubber ducky. “All I did was pull a prank, bro. I didn't mean to hurt anyone, let alone you.”

Donnie frowned at the reminder, rubbing the back of his neck bashfully. “I know you didn’t, ‘Nardo, but...” Donnie took in a deep breath; if he was going to set things straight, he might was well do it with a clear head. ‘Tell the truth’ is what his mind constantly told him, and he intended to. “I wasn’t yelling at you, per se, nor was I trying to hurt you in any way.”

It was clear from the look on Leo’s face that his interest was piqued, and he finally turned to look at his twin. “What’s that s’posed to mean?”

“Do you remember that time we got our tongues stuck in those mouse traps?” Donnie asked. Leo nodded, a bit annoyed that his question was answered with a question, but trusting that he would get an actual answer soon enough. “It was a stupid dare that got us yelled at for nearly half an hour. I honestly remember it like it was yesterday; to tell you the truth, I swear that I’ve never seen dad’s veins that visible since.”

Leo snickered, smiling for a brief second before replacing it with a frown when Donnie looked his way. “Is there a point to this, or are you just trying to avoid the subject?”

“There is a point,” Donnie assured, “but I would get to it faster if you shut your snout.”

“I make no promises.” Leo quipped, slowly but surely unwrapping his tail from the branch. It wasn’t exactly an ‘I Forgive You’ gesture, but it was close enough to spur Donnie on.

“Well, to delay your inevitable chatter, I will ask one final question.” Donnie waited for the frustrated groan from Leo he was sure to receive. When it came, Donnie continued. “Do you remember why dad yelled at us like that?”

“I don’t remember the exact wording, but I’m pretty sure it was something along the lines of “I was more scared than angry. When I saw you two in pain, I couldn’t help but feel the need to protect you.” which is when he proceeded to ground us.” Leo recounted the event almost easily, a fond smirk appearing on his face. “But what does that have to do with... what you said?”

“When I yelled at you, I wasn’t upset. I was honestly kind of terrified...” Donnie paused, scratching at a bit of loose skin from the branch the two were settled upon. “You don't know how scary it was to see my own twin brother lying on his Carapace, covered in blood.”

“But it was fa-”

“I know that! But I didn't care! One of my biggest fears is losing you, all of you! I thought that I had left something out that had hurt you, that I was the reason why you were just... lying there... you looked so lifeless.” Donnie wiped away the streams of tears falling from his eyes. “Ugh, look at me... the guy who doesn’t understand feelings is sitting here crying because of some stupid prank pulled by his equally stupid-” Donnie cut himself off, remembering the words he’d uttered that started this mess.

“Go on, say it.” Leo huffed, his frown returning. “Say that I’m just as stupid as the prank.”

“No.” Leo looked up at the refusal, asking many silent questions with his wide eyes. “I’m not going to say it, because it isn’t true. You aren’t stupid. I was just upset, and when I get upset I get snappy.”

“Snappy? That’s what you’re calling it?” Leo asked in disbelief, giving a genuine snicker, which soon turned into a full-hearted laugh. For a while, Donnie watched Leo in confusion, wondering what was so funny. “Dude, you cannot tell me that you truly believe Snappy does what you said justice! Your face was as red as Raph’s mask! You looked like a freakin’ cherry!”

“Okay, I get it, ‘Nardo. You don’t need to ruin the mood.”

“Uh, what mood? This whole conversation has been as awkward as Dad’s relationship with Draxum!” An indignant scoff came from Donnie, and Leo barked out a laugh that left him coughing violently. “Don! Can’t breathe!”

Donnie groaned, drawing Leo close and massaging the back of Leo’s neck. A good minute or so passed, and Donnie had started to contemplate karate chopping Leo in the stomach, but Leo eventually stopped coughing. A loud sputter was shared between the twins, and they chuckled at the coincidence.

“So uh... am I forgiven?” Donnie asked, wanting desperately to be able to get home and disappear into his lab to try and forget this mess. Unfortunately for him, however, Leo was aware of this plan, and the mutant Slider gave a false hum. “Leo...”

“I’ll forgive you on one condition.” Leo chimed, looking directly into Donnie’s eyes. “You have to spend the rest of the night in the Apology Nest with me, where we will drink hot chocolate and watch cheesy B-Movies until we pass out.”

“I am not going to do that.”

“Then I’m not going to forgive you. What you said really hurt, Dee. I hope you at least realize that it’s a feat in itself to get me to forgive you for... y’know.” Leo lowered his gaze to the ground, where the rest of the family had sat down to talk about whatever. “It made me cry, Dee. Something that’s really hard to do, mind you.”

Donnie sighed heavily, weighing his options before deciding that, yes, he did owe Leo the Apology Nest treatment. Nothing could excuse what had happened in the lab earlier that day, and Donnie knew this. What he said was despicable, thoughtless, and heartless. Even if he meant none of it, he had no right to say it.

“Alright,” Donnie finally whispered, “I accept the conditions.”

“Good. And thanks.” Leo replied happily, standing up and balancing on the branch.

“What for?” Donnie raised a brow, standing up as well and holding Leo in a tight hug so that they could both safely float down to the ground. As they descended, Leo responded:

“For doing the best you can.”