#‘’ your love hits me like no other ‘’ // buck and lydia

[crazyunsexycool]

My little love

Chapter 4

pairing: Bucky Barnes x enhanced!reader

word count: 4.1k

Warnings: mentions of gunshot wounds, blood, shrapnel embedded in someone’s side, Bucky and Angel having quality daddy/daughter time, nightmares, child crying, Steve being cute

A/N: It’s here!!!! There is not a lot of reader in this chapter I wanted to focus more on Bucky and Angel. What name does Bucky choose??? I went back and forth a lot with the name because I honestly don’t think Bucky would choose a more modern name but I think it’s a good choice. Tell me what you think! Also I was very excited for you to see Bucky being a first time dad….

Series masterlist

Ch. 3

“Why are you so loud?” You asked from the entryway to the living room. Hands on your hips and a scowl on your face as you glared at one of the two super soldiers that didn’t know what whispering meant. 

“We are talking names.” 

“Talking or yelling?” 

“I made coffee.” Bucky says as he stands in front of you, trying to change the subject. “Do you want some?” 

You were about to respond when giggles interrupted you. The sweet little giggles of none other than Angel. Leaning to the side to look behind Bucky you find Steve sitting on the floor, holding her hands as she stands in front of him. She was trying to find her balance but anytime Steve let go of her hands she’d fall down. She laughed again when her bottom hit the soft area rug in your living room. 

“Well now you’re just being silly.” Steve told her as he picked the giggling toddler up and had her stand looking in your direction. “Who’s that sweetheart?”

Her eyes lit up when she saw you and she immediately stretched her arms out so that you would pick her up.

“Good morning cutie, how are you doing today?” 

“I’m great, how are you?” Steve responded as you picked Angel up. You rolled your eyes before kissing her temple. Angel lays her head on your shoulder. 

“I’m not dealing with you until I’ve had my coffee, Rogers.” 

“Wow, you really are a grump in the mornings. Anyways, let me make breakfast now that you’re up.” 

You narrow your eyes at him and Bucky does the same from behind you. Steve gives you an awkward smile as he walks past. Both you and Bucky follow him to the kitchen.

“You rarely make me any food. What’s going on?” 

“Yeah punk, What’s up with you?” 

“I tried to keep you out as long as I could but I need you for a mission Y/N. Two days tops.” He says after turning to look at you. 

You frown slightly before looking between Bucky and Angel, your hold tightening slightly on the latter. 

“I’ll go.” Bucky offers.

“Sorry Buck but we need her abilities.”

“It’s ok, It’s my job.” You say as you turn to him and smile. “Who else is going?”

“Nat, Sam and Clint.” 

“Good, you can both watch this sweet girl.” You say you pull back and look at her. Your voice gets higher when you talk to her. “Are you going to have so much fun with Steve and daddy?”

Bucky stiffened slightly at being called dad.  You look up at him slightly embarrassed.

“I’m sorry I didn’t mean-“

“No it’s ok, I’ll get used to it.” He says in a small voice.

“She can call you something else.” 

“No it’s ok really. She can call me dad if she wants to.” 

“And what do we call her? You said you were talking about names.”

Steve turns back around and starts pulling ingredients out of the fridge and cabinets. 

“Well let’s see,” Bucky says as he pulls a small notebook out of his sweatpants pocket. “I have Beatrice, Eleanor, Josephine, Lydia, Frances and Vivian. What do you think?” 

“You know you only have to pick one, maybe two.”

“You don’t like any of them?”

You gave him an awkward smile as you moved to set Angel down in her booster seat.  

“Well, she is your daughter so you get to choose. They’re lovely names, she just doesn’t look like those names.” 

“What is that supposed to mean?” Steve asked from the stove.

“It means you look like a Steve, Bucky looks like a Bucky and I look like a Y/N. The name has to fit her.”

Bucky hummed and then frowned slightly. He never thought a name could be so complicated.

“Is there a name you like?” 

“Not any of those.” You mutter under your breath. 

“I heard that.” 

“Oops.” You said with a smile. 

“Agent Y/LN, your presence is being requested in conference room 302.” Friday announced. 

“Is it urgent Friday?” 

“Yes, your mission has been moved up, you’re needed in order to start the briefing.” 

“Please let them know I’ll be down in 10 minutes.” 

“Yes ma’am.” 

You kiss Angel’s forehead and head to your room to change out of your pajamas. 

“Ok , hopefully I’ll see you before I leave. Sorry I can’t have breakfast Steve.” 

“I’ll make you some when you get back from the mission.” He smiles at you. 

“I’ll hold you to it.” You head toward the living room with Bucky following close behind. 

“If you have to leave right after please be careful.” 

“I will,” you kiss his cheek. “If you need help with Angel, Jenna and Ivy in the medical wing can help.” You say before you head out. 

The jet was ready to go. The team of four had packed up everything they would need for the two day trip and set it by the ramp of said jet. While Clint and Sam did some preflight checks Nat stood by you as you said goodbye to sweet Baby Barnes as she clung to you unaware that she wouldn’t see you for at least two days. Her little fingers played with the straps of your Kevlar vest and she pursed her lips as she concentrated with the task at hand. Bucky and Steve walked your way as you and Nat discussed something about the mission. 

“Did you pick a name yet?” Is the first question you asked once Bucky stood in front of you.

“No,” he shook his head slightly as he looked at the small notebook in his hand. “This is a big deal, I can’t name her something stupid.” 

“Samantha is a good name.” Sam calls out as he picks up your bags.

“Again, I said nothing stupid.” 

“Wow, you talk like that in front of your daughter? You’re lucky she’ll learn her manners from Y/N.” 

Nat and you chuckled at the banter but Steve pinched the bridge of his nose already exasperated with the back and forth. 

“Come on You’re not even close to picking a name yet? What if I leave and never come back?” You meant it as a joke but the mood shifted quickly.

 Steve took Angel from you after you placed a quick kiss on her forehead. Nat said her own quick goodbye before getting on the jet leaving you alone with Bucky. His expression was unreadable as he looked toward his daughter. 

“Don’t say things like that.” 

“It was just a joke, Buck.” 

“Well it wasn’t funny.” He finally looked at you, finding you looking away. “I’m sorry I just- the thought of losing you is unbearable. Besides, I need you.” 

Your eyes snapped up meeting his. 

“And so does Joann.” You grimace at the name. “Yeah, I didn't think so either.” He scratches the name off the list with a pen. “I’ll have a name by the time you get back ok?” 

“Ok, take care of yourself while I’m gone.” You say as you wrap your arms around his waist. 

“What about Angel?” 

“If you take care of her the way you take care of me I know she’ll be fine. Just don’t forget her-“

“Pink bear, I know. And I already spoke with Jenna and Ivy although I’m gonna do as much as I can on my own.” Bucky finishes your sentence as he wraps an arm around your shoulder. He places a kiss in your hair. “Please be careful.”

“I will. See you in two days.”  

You walk up the ramp with a final wave to the three of them. Clint hits the button to close the jet as you begin to hear Angel cry. Clint stands besides you as you look through one of the windows at Steve trying to calm her down. 

“Trust me kid, it doesn’t get easier.” He pats your back before turning to the cockpit. 

“It’s ok sweetheart, mama will be back soon.” Steve cooed softly as if his words were meant for her ears only. It didn’t work though and Angel held her arms out and made grabby hands in hopes that you would appear before her and take her into your arms, where she was safe. When that didn’t work she turned to Bucky. 

”Don’t cry,” Bucky tells her as he takes her from Steve. “I’m scared too. But you know what? We’re going to be just fine.” 

He heads back into the living section of the compound and up to your apartment where you left everything set up for him. Steve followed closely behind making silly faces at the crying child in hopes of calming her down. The only thing that worked was actually being back in your apartment. It was familiar to her and she was safe. It didn’t take long for her to start yawning and rubbing her eyes, a clear sign it was time for her nap. Steve was gone and it was up to Bucky to get the tired toddler down for said nap. He walked to the room you’d chosen for her and pulled out his phone to play some music in hope it would help Angel fall asleep.

 A slow song from the 40s fills the room and Bucky hums along as he sways from side to side. Angel slowly but surely rested her head against his shoulder. 

“What about Loretta?” He peaks down at the child in his arms but she’s still fighting sleep. “No, not that one. Hhmm, Norma? Nah, I don’t like that one.” Bucky continued to list names and sway around the room until Angel finally fell asleep. He laid her down in the crib and covered her with the pink blanket before heading back out into the living room. 

He plopped down on your couch and as he looked around the room, Bucky couldn’t help but think of what it would be like if you and him were in a relationship. He practically lived in your apartment anyway and now so did his daughter. Up until this point you had stepped up to help care for her. It’s something you didn’t need to do and yet all the conversations he’d had with Steve about you having feelings for him came back. Bucky didn’t doubt that you would offer help to anyone, especially a child that needed it but he couldn’t deny that the way you took care of his daughter was different. It was as if she was your own and that warmed his heart, because Angel trusted you more than anyone. 

So with thoughts of you and his daughter Bucky relaxed into the couch and soon enough he fell asleep too.

Bucky sat up panting and disoriented. He hadn’t had a nightmare yet he could hear crying. It was the most bloodcurdling scream he’d ever heard. He looked around to realize he was in your apartment and at the sight of a doll on your couch he remembered he had put his daughter down for a nap. It was her cries that woke him up and he ran toward her room thinking someone was hurting her. He was somewhat correct. She was being hurt but only by her nightmares. She laid in the crib tossing and turning and crying bloody murder. Bucky panicked, unsure of what to do. He kept muttering to himself what would you do in this situation, if it were you here instead of him. Then he thought back to all the times he’d shown up to your place after a nightmare. He was always comforted by your touch, maybe he could provide the same for her.

Bucky bent over the railing of the crib and as gently as he could he grabbed Angel and laid her against his chest. His heart stopped when he watched her flinch at his touch but he knew it was just because of the nightmare. 

“You’re ok, doll. I’m right here. I’ll keep you safe.” He cooed softly as he walked out to the living room again. 

Her eyes didn’t open but her cries died down a bit. Still a small whimper here and there, a little tremble of her chin and lower lip kept him on edge. 

“C’mon doll you gotta wake up for me.” He used his left hand to wipe away the tears, hoping the cool metal would maybe soothe the crying toddler. Bucky kept his eyes on her face the entire time. He studied every movement and twitch until Angel’s eyes started to flutter and finally she looked at him. She hides her face in his chest and Bucky can feel the fresh tears being soaked up by his shirt. As long as she’s awake Bucky doesn’t mind one bit. He just holds her close while he rubs soothing circles on her back and finally allows himself to calm his own heart, it’s a miracle it didn’t pop out of his chest. 

When Bucky finally moves her away from his chest to get a good look at her his heart drops. She’s almost frozen in place. Angel’s gaze is unfocused and it’s as if she’s reliving something traumatic. His little girl starts to cry again and it would be several hours before he gets her to calm down.

Fresh air and sunshine. Bucky had decided that his daughter hadn’t had enough of it. So once he managed to feed her and change her diaper, with the help of Jenna, he decided to go on a walk. It was supposed to be simple. Take the stroller and sit Angel down. Except he couldn’t get the stupid stroller opened, he didn’t even know that was a thing. So he stood by Steve’s office with a closed stroller, a toddler and a bag with some extras in it, in hopes that his best friend could help him out. 

Steve couldn’t. 

It wasn’t until another agent walked by with some documents meant for Steve that they learned how to unfold the damned thing. He quickly showed them how to open and close the stroller before walking back the way he came. 

With Angel strapped in, Bucky moved through the halls of the compound until he was finally outside. Bucky could see Angel’s head move from side to side as she took in everything around her. It was nothing special but he was sure she had never been outside in her short life. So trees and flowers and grass seemed like the most amazing things in the eyes of the three year old. Bucky pushed the stroller around for a while until he found a nice shady tree to sit under. He pulled out a blanket he had brought with him and laid it out before unbuckling his daughter and setting her down. 

“Ok doll, C’mere.” After he settled down he opened the backpack he had packed and pulled out a book. He sat her down in his lap and flipped the book open and he began to read out loud. 

You had left little post-it notes here and there to help Bucky. A list of favorite snacks on the fridge, her nap times and favorite toys in her room. In the bathroom mirror there was a post-it of what temperature the water should be and what products he should use when it was bath time. Anytime he found one he reminded himself to do something special as a thank you when you got back. 

After giving his daughter a bath Bucky had grabbed her towel and wrapped her up before heading to her room. He opened the drawer you had mentioned that was full of pajamas and grabbed the first onesie and pajama pants he found. 

“Ok doll, let’s get you nice and dry and ready for bed.” Bucky said as he laid his sweet Angel down, dried her properly and put on a diaper.

 He reached over and grabbed the onesie and unfolded it, laughing once he realized what it said. A big you can do it dad sat in the middle in bold black letters while arrows labeled arms, head, legs and snap  surrounded it. Once he was done dressing her he took his phone out and managed to get a picture of her smiling to show you later. He had done that a lot during the day, taking pictures of her. Bucky justified it by saying they were for your benefit. Surely you’d miss her and would want to know what she was up to for two days. 

This routine would happen for not two days but four. And everyday Bucky got more anxious at the fact that you weren’t back yet. 

Everyone had been on high alert at the end of the second day of your mission. There should have been communication that the mission had been completed and you were on your way back. Instead they were met with radio silence. Tony tried to locate all four phones but nothing. The jet couldn’t be located either. 

It wasn’t until the early morning of the fifth day when a commotion at the gated entrance of the compound that the rest of the team knew something went horribly wrong. Tony, Bruce, Wanda, Vision, Steve and Bucky, along with medical staff were all waiting once the ambulance was allowed in. Clint hopped out of the driver's side and rushed to the back to open the doors. It wasn’t a surprise to see him battered and bruised. The medical team rushed after him and took over whatever was happening. Bucky’s heart all but stopped once he saw Clint, Sam and Nat walk around the ambulance and towards the rest of the group. They all looked bad but they could walk. 

“Nat?” Bucky called out her name but she refused to look up at him. She felt guilty, he was sure of that. “Nat, what’s going-“ the words died on his tongue as the stretcher was finally pulled out. 

You were unconscious as they wheeled you by. There was blood not only on your uniform but on the stretcher, it was too much blood. Bucky could see the gunshot wounds and the cuts and scrapes before noticing the piece of shrapnel sticking out from your side. He didn’t realize he had started following you until he stopped in his tracks and turned to look at the other three. He was furious, why were you the only one on the verge of death while the three of them seemed completely fine by comparison. Steve stepped between Bucky and the rest of the team that had gone on the mission. It was clear to see that Bucky was ready to rip their heads off.

“Walk it off, and go get your daughter.” 

“But-“

“No buts, we don’t know what happened and they need to be checked out too. Once I talk to them I’ll let you know, now go.” Steve was stern and unmoving even Bucky tried to look around him. With a huff Bucky turned back in the direction of the building and disappeared inside. 

“Steve, it all happened so fast.” Sam offered but Steve put his hand up. 

“Go get checked out and cleaned up, we'll talk later.” 

Sam’s shoulders sag as he started walking away. It was obvious that whatever happened was difficult for everyone and the last thing they needed was to get yelled at. Steve and the others knew it would be a long day and they decided to keep them company or wait to hear news about you. 

Bucky sat in the waiting room with Angel in his lap for hours. He wouldn’t move until he knew you were at least ok. That you would live to see another day but the doctors were taking forever. The rest of the team had been in and out waiting to hear anything but Bucky’s mood kept them at bay. After a while Steve finally showed up and silently took the toddler from Bucky. 

“So what happened?” 

“It was a setup from the beginning. The minute they got into enemy airspace the jet was under attack.” 

“Why didn’t they call for backup or turn around and come back?” 

“They were being attacked from all sides, signals were jammed. The jet was lost, the only reason any of them are still alive was because Y/N managed to slow down the descent of the plane.” Steve said as he bounced Angel on his leg. 

Bucky stood and began pacing. All he wanted was for you to be ok and then to find the assholes that did this. 

“There’s more,” Steve said, causing Bucky to stop and turn to him, he waited silently for the rest. “It seems like hydra planned this hoping to capture whoever had been sent on the mission with the intention of trading them.” 

“Trading them? For what?” 

Steve didn’t say anything, instead his hold tightened a little around the toddler on his lap and his eyes shifted from Bucky to Angel. The sound of whirling plates could be heard in the otherwise quiet room as Bucky clenched his fist. 

“Over my dead body.” Bucky said through gritted teeth. 

“Apparently over Y/N’s too.” Steve sighed. “Listen, from what Sam, Nat and Clint said there was nothing they could do. They fought as hard as they could and they even had to steal a plane to get back. It was Y/N that saved them and in the process she got hurt. But she’s here now and in the cradle, I’m sure she’ll be fine.” 

“I hope so.” 

A few minutes later Dr. Cho appears in the waiting room with news that you’re out of the cradle. Dr. Cho had said that you would be fine, after being in the cradle for that long you were sure to recover in no time but she wasn’t going to clear you for missions for a while. 

 She leads Bucky and Steve to your room and gives them some privacy. Bucky holds his daughter in one hand and opens the door slowly with the other. He was surprised to see you alert although it seemed you were moving slowly. Most likely due to the pain medication they had given you. Before anyone was able to say anything, Angel’s gaze fell on you. Bucky could tell something was wrong immediately due to how her body tensed and shortly after she began to cry. It was an intense, deafening type of cry that left them rooted in place. Steve quickly grabbed her and muttered that he’d stay outside to calm her down. You frowned, concerned at what could have happened.

“What’s wrong?”

“She’ll be ok.” Bucky said as he moved to sit next to you. “It’s the second time I’ve heard her cry like that though.” 

“You should go check on her, I’ll be fine.” 

“Are you sure?” 

“Of course.” 

“Ok.” He got up and kissed your forehead before walking back out. Even in the state you were in whatever was going on with Angel had you worried. You tried to fight off the need to sleep but whatever you had been given was stronger.

It must have been very late when you did finally wake up but you weren’t surprised to find Bucky sitting in the chair beside you. A book in his hand as he patiently waited for you.

“Buck.” You called out with a slightly gravelly voice. 

“Hey, how are you feeling?”

“Like shit.” You huffed out as you tried to sit up. Bucky moved to help you get more comfortable in the bed. “How’s Angel?” 

“She’s better now. I’m not sure what’s going on but Bruce said he’d run some tests.”

“Ok, good.” You frown slightly at the thought of her being hurt in some way or her being afraid of you.

“I have pictures of what we did these last few days. Wanna see them?” He asked in the hopes of distracting you for a while.

You nodded as Bucky pulled out his phone. The frown disappears from your face instantly as you scroll through the pictures. Bucky had taken pictures of her outside sitting on a blanket, multiple pictures of her sleeping soundly or with food all over her face. There were videos of her just giggling as she stood on her own and videos of her with Steve while he danced and sang along with Disney movies. It warmed your heart to see her so content and safe in the arms of her father. 

“Told you you’d do a good job.” 

“I know, but she missed you too. She kept pointing at your room almost silently asking for me to go get you.” 

“Sweet baby, I hope she’ll let me hold her once I’m out.”

“I’m sure she will.” He smiles at you.

“So…”

“So what?” He gave you a confused look.

“What is her name? Please tell me you picked something.” 

He smiles again and nods. “I did.”

“Ok and what is it?” You ask excitedly and he smiles.

“Charlotte Elise Barnes.” 

Ch. 5

permanent taglist: @kunaikunari @rebekahdawkins @cjand10 @nalny5  @sturchling @angywritesstuff @seitmai @writing-for-marvel @goldylions @darkhairedmenrule @little--baby--bear @almosttoopizza @littleseasiren @teambarnes72

series tag list: @buckystevelove @vicmc624 @just-someone11

[vendettacanons]

// Some more cute late night ship doodles! The second one (colored) is actually pretty old and I just never got around to posting it!

// 1 Wyatt and Lucas & 1 Franklin and Nahvee for @devilsdecade

// 1 Judge and Sharky & 1 Buck and Lydia for @maximuses

[txemrn]

In your hc, did Brynn have any strong cravings or aversions during her pregnancy from the mother's day fic?? How did Sam handle that??? I hope he wasn't a dickhead like with the other pregnancy when he cheated and gave her an STD. 😒

I was just thinking 👉👈🥺😇 that might be a cute little story. 😉

Btw I really enjoy reading about them!!! I'd L💗VE more. HINT proposal??? WEDDING?????

Hey, there! *big ol' hugs* thank you so much for the ask and the "hints". 🤣😂🤣 I hope you enjoy my interpretation of your suggestion! And yes, there is more to come from Sam and Brynn. Enjoy! 🍨🍓🍨

Warning: NSFW 🍋 (tiny little squirts; don't get too excited); language; angst; pregnancy-related stuff

***

The sparkle of fresh winter snow gathers along the window sill. A hint of gingerbread and fresh spruce waltz in the air. Melting with the smokey notes of kindled embers, the fireplace crackles in the darkened master suite--the only lively room left in the penthouse for the evening.

It had been an exhausting Friday. With Christmas and Brynn’s birthday next week, the Dalton family spent their day tirelessly getting things prepared before a very special winter vacation. Brynn attended Mickey and Mason’s holiday party at school, bringing her famous cupcakes and oven-baked Chex Mix, not to mention presents for all the teachers and faculty.

Because of the school’s early release, Brynn and the boys met Sam for lunch, where they served the entire company a catered, bountiful holiday meal, complete with generous congratulatory swag for another successful third year.

Sam spent the afternoon on phone conferences, which gave him time to pack up to work remotely from home; he wouldn’t be returning until the 28th. By the late afternoon, they had completed the grocery shopping, tidied up their home, fixed and ate dinner.

But for Sam and Brynn, the jam-packed day was far from over. There was still one more very important task to complete: sex. And lots of it.

Seductive whispers, tender giggles and lustful moans penetrate the quiet suite. Their exposed bodies hungrily intertwine together as their movements are kept rhythmically in time with the subtle creaking of the bed.

Sam grips tightly to his wife’s supple breast, brushing his thumbs over her erect pink nipples. With her left hand, Brynn sinks her nails onto the top of his hand, squeezing together with him; her other hand holds tightly to the headboard, straddling her thighs on top of her husband’s hips.

“Oh, God! Sam!” she exhales with each thrust onto his swelling, hardened girth, her voice becoming louder, more raspy. “Almost--! Almost--!”

“Brynn--! I--!” With one final buck of his hips, Sam spills over into euphoria. His fingers quickly drop to her voluptuous assets. He clenches savagely to her curves, pushing her drenched, tightening center to his hilt. Sweat drips off his brow as indistinguishable groans wail from his throat.

Watching her husband come undone teases Brynn’s own release. Tossing her almond locks over her bare shoulders, she is taken captive by the sensations tickling her voracious desires. She rocks her hips against Sam’s buried length, stroking her throbbing clit through her incessant waves of reckless ecstasy. Thunderous moans of pleasure escape her mouth as she gasps for a drink of air.

Almost too terrified to disturb the perfect moment, the couple savors the quietness of them simply being together, their hearts beating in-time, connecting as one.

“I love you, baby,” Sam whispers, breaking the silence as he gently massages Brynn’s thighs. His hands intimately roam, carefully finding their way to stroke her fully-blossomed pregnant belly.

A bright smile effortlessly spreads across her face. “I love you, too, baby.” Her delicate fingers meet his. She lifts his hand to her lips, peppering his knuckles with kisses.

“Hopefully,” he chuckles, “that’ll do the trick.”

She cradles her abdomen. “I can only hope so,” she titters, her fingers caressing her abdomen as she talks to their unborn child. “That was another eviction notice, precious one--”

Brynn and Sam had a preterm labor scare at 33 weeks, which landed Brynn in the hospital for a week being pumped with various medications to stop her contractions. She was discharged home, with the instructions to “take it easy.” Though it isn’t ideal to have a baby this early, her team of doctors agreed they weren’t going to do anything to stop her labor if it were to happen again.

Tomorrow, Brynn will be 41 weeks. For the past two weeks, she has been trying every trick in the book to go into labor. Her lab technician Meaghan swore by spicy food; that only gave Brynn ungodly heartburn. Lydia, the Dalton’s downstairs neighbor, gifted Brynn a bottle of castor oil; she spent a solid two days with uncontrollable diarrhea and belly aches. Carter’s wife gave Brynn a special tea blend; she would contract, but nothing painful; she actually fell asleep because of the delicious steep.

Then, there was her mother's advice:

“You’ve gotta have sex, Brynny--”

“Mom--!”

“--and I’m not talking about the mediocre, ‘are you done yet?’ , making-your-shopping-list-in-your-head kind. You need to orgasm--”

“Jesus Christ, Mom--!”

“You need his semen--”

“I can’t believe this is happening right now--”

“And fondle your breasts. Better yet, let him do it! Now you might leak a little, so if you have him suckle--”

*click*

“Brynny? Brynny?”

“I, for one, am not minding this eviction process--”

“Samuel!” she playfully slaps against Sam’s broad chest. Blocking her hits and laughing, Sam finally grabs Brynn, pulling her body down next to his. He wraps his arms around her, brushing his lips against her temple. He rests his large hands on her gravid belly, nuzzling his nose into her neck.

“Are you okay, babe?”

“Mhmm--” Brynn snuggles into Sam’s embrace, closing her eyes. “Just perfect, babe. G’night.”

“Night, baby.”

The delightful pops of the fireplace lulls Sam to sleep; Brynn, however, started having trouble. She turned to her right side, but soon flipped to her left side. When that didn’t get her comfortable, she sat up on the side of the bed, massaging her back and her abdomen.

“Brynn baby,” yawns Sam, “you okay?”

“I didn’t mean to wake you, babe.”

“It’s-k.” Sam fluffs his pillow under his head, keeping his eyes closed. “Contractions?” he slurs.

“Braxton Hicks. I’ll be fine. You go back to--”

Sam lets out a satisfied snore before Brynn can finish her sentence. Tickled, she tucks her husband into bed before she slips on a silk robe. Pulling out her exercise ball from the closet, she sits on top of it in hopes that rocking her hips will bring her some comfort.

She suddenly stops, clutching her chest. An all-too-familiar jolt of burning shoots through her belly leaving an unbearable sour sensation clawing at the back of her throat. Carefully balancing herself to a stand, she retreats to the bathroom for medicine. And to vomit.

“Brynn? Brynn?”

“I’m in here,” her pitiful voice echoes through the bathroom.

Sam slips on a pair of sweats, hurrying to her side in the water closet. Seeing his wife crumpled over the toilet, he drops to her side, pushing her hair behind her ears before rubbing her back. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” she whispers gravelly.

“No, you’re not,” he tenderly touches her clammy cheek. “What do you need, babe?”

Brynn leans back, sitting her rear on the cold tile. Embracing her body as another contraction subsides, she quietly states, “I need ice cream.”

Sam’s eyes widen with surprise at the request. “You want… ice cream?”

“Mhmm,” she nods. “That would feel so good against my throat.”

“Okay, baby,” he chuckles, brushing his thumb across swollen lips. “Is there a certain flavor--?”

“Strawberry,” she barks, “it needs to be strawberry.”

Sam kisses her forehead, and jogs to the kitchen in search of his wife’s favorite ice cream. Scooping up three massive balls into a bowl, he returns to the bathroom with two spoons.

“Strawberry ice cream, m’lady!” He sits on the floor with her, presenting the cold dessert like a trophy.

Brynn observes the creamy pink heap. She slowly takes the spoon, poking at the frozen treat. She watches her husband take a bite of it first before she reluctantly tries it.

“No,” she spits out her small bite, “I’m sorry. I can’t.”

Perplexed, Sam spoons another bite for himself. “Is there something wrong with it? Is it freezer burned or--?”

“No, no,” Brynn’s eyes begin to well with tears. “It’s just not strawberry enough,” she sniffles.

“Okay, babe, there’s no crying in ice cream,” he chuckles, wiping at her eyes.

“I think it’s because I want strawberry ice cream.”

“Honey, this is strawberry ice cream.”

“This is strawberries and cream.” She uses her spoon as a pointer, “See how there’s vanilla and strawberry with pieces of strawberry? I just," she sighs, "I need strawberry ice cream.”

Staring at the wall, Sam pretends to understand his wife’s request. “Of course, baby. I’ll go get, um--” he clears his throat to keep from laughing, “the strawberry ice cream.”

“Hey, Sam?”

“Mhmm?”

“I love you, baby.” She offers a toothy smile.

He chuckles. “Love you, too,” he shakes his head with a coy smile.

Sam returns with another heaping mound of strawberry ice cream. “Alright, baby, just what you asked for: strawberry ice cream.”

“Sam,” irritation saturates Brynn’s voice as it begins to tremble. “This has strawberry pieces in it.”

“It’s because it’s strawberry ice cream,” Sam bites his tongue, watching his words carefully as he gnashes his teeth. “It’s exactly what you asked for, sweetheart.”

Brynn hangs her head in her hands as she sobs. “I wanted strawberry ice cream, not strawberry with strawberries ice cream!”

“Babe, are you fucking kidding me right--?”

“Don’t yell at me!” Brynn begins to sob harder.

“Jesus Christ,” Sam sputters. He runs his hands down his face, letting out a sigh. He sits down next to his wife, taking her in his arms. “How can we fix this? Can you maybe eat around the strawberries?”

“It just,” her breath hangs tight in her throat as she tries to control her tears, “it doesn’t taste the same.”

“Of course, it doesn’t,” he mutters under his breath. He sighs heavily again. “What can I do, Brynn? Tell me what to do.”

“I just want strawberry ice cream--”

“No. What. Do. You. Want?” He grabs his cell phone. “Show me.”

She does a quick google search, pulling up a plain pink custard with strawberry flavoring--no pieces. “This. I need this. Please.”

“Brynn, we don’t have this here.”

“There’s a 7-11 two blocks away--”

“It’s eighteen degrees outside.” Sam shakes his head, as he walks back to bed. “No, this is getting fucking ridiculous.”

Brynn glares at the spot where her husband once stood, her eyebrows furrowing; warm streams of tears downpour on her cheeks. Red patches of skin grow across her neck and face as her breathing labors.

“Samuel!” When he doesn’t answer, she carefully balances herself from the ground and waddles into their room. “Samuel!”

“What?” his muffled words slur as he buries his head into a pillow. “I just need a little sleep.”

“Oh, you need a little sleep? You?” Brynn rips the duvet off of Sam, her small body shaking in anger. “I have given up my body for ten fucking months to grow a baby, an actual human being that will more than likely rip me to pieces just to,” she chuckles sarcastically, “look like you!”

“Brynn, I--”

“I’m not fucking done!” She breathes through another contraction, stepping closer to her terrified husband. “I have not complained once, and yet I have given up every ounce of my dignity. I can’t control my farts. I can't control my pee. I’m growing rolls and stretch marks in places that I never even knew a person could grow them!” She steps even closer, her eyes darkening. “I fuck you multiple times weekly--sometimes daily--where I hide the embarrassment that my hot, chiseled husband is staring at either my double chin or my fat, stretch-marked ass--”

“Baby, I don’t--”

Brynn holds up a finger. “I reverse cowgirl you until my legs cramp because you like it. I suck your dick off because you like it--”

“I thought that--”

“I just want some strawberry ice cream, Sam!” she sobs, “And then maybe you can get some sleep!” Brynn cradles her abdomen as another wave of discomfort grips around her belly.

Sam sits on the side of the bed, rubbing his eyes. “Fine”

“And I need to come with you.”

“Yeah, okay,” Sam sarcastically scoffs. He slinks on a long-sleeve shirt before grabbing his coat. He turns back to his wife who is grabbing her coat. “Um, no,” he chuckles. “I need you stay here and just relax--”

“No, we’re going together.”

Frustrated with the conversation, Sam darts his eyes around the room, trying not to yell. “Why, Brynn?”

“Because--”

“‘Because’ why, Brynn?”

“Because my water just broke.”

***

@ao719 @charlotteg234 @chemist-ana @forallthatitsworth @kat-tia801 @khoicesbyk @lovelyladyk88 @lucy-268 @neotericthemis @pixie88 @sfb123 @shannonsaid @shannonwrote @shewillreadyou @secretaryunpaid @thefrenchiemama

[greekgrad12]

It Takes Two: percabeth!au

Mattie Jackson and Hayley Chase meet at the start of summer and discover that they are each other's identical clone. With a little more investigating, the two girls discover that they are, in fact, twins. Things only get crazier when they find out that their adoptive parents were once in love. Now, they have to work together to reunite Percy Jackson and Annabeth Chase before Mattie’s dad ends up dating the new camp counselor and Hayley’s mom gets married to a kid hating, gold digger.

And what better way to do that than to switch places?

or

i rewatched It Takes Two and decided to make it percabeth :)

read on ao3 

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

Percy Jackson had just finished packing his last duffel bag when he heard a very familiar voice yelling outside his apartment window. A voice that belonged to someone who was supposed to be in the next room over packing her own bags. A frustrated sigh left his lips as he opened the bedroom window looking down towards the street. Just as he suspected, a crowd of children were scattered on the road, some taking up the spaces around the chalk-drawn diamond, others sitting on the sidelines. And right there on the makeshift home plate stood none other than...

"Matilda Sally Jackson!" Percy yelled down from the fourth floor to his daughter, "If I were to walk into your room right now, would your suitcases be packed?"

The ten-year-old girl turned and gave her dad an exasperated look, "Ah come on, dad! Ten bucks say you only just got done!"

"Thankfully, I'm not raising you to be like me," He teased, leaning on the windowsill. He was very much aware of the red tint on his daughter's olive cheeks, even from the distance between the two, "I'm hopefully raising you to be better. Now come finish packing, we're leaving in two hours!"

Percy and his daughter had a great relationship, unlike Percy and his bio-dad or first stepfather. Yeah, he didn't have the best luck in the fatherhood department, but that was why he wanted to do better for his daughter. And he was. Percy spent every day trying to be a good dad to Mattie. He taught her his mother's famous cookie recipe, braided her hair every morning before school, and attended every single swim match she had. Granted he was also the coach, but still.

Mattie didn't have a mom. Well, not one that she remembered anyway. Percy and his ex-wife, Lydia, were on thin ice for a long time. One of their main arguments being, Percy wanted kids, she didn't. Percy knew from a young age that he wanted a family, so there was no use trying to argue that. Somewhere along the way, they had reached an agreement and Mattie was on the way. Halfway through the whole process, Lydia changed her mind. This lead to the fifth argument of the month and to their inevitable divorce.

This also lead to the decision that would change the rest of Percy's life. Would he still adopt baby Mattie?

Yep, adopt. Lydia didn't want to go through the whole pregnancy ordeal and Percy was more than happy to adopt. He knew what it was like to grow up in a tough home and if he could prevent that from happening to another kid, he wouldn't hesitate. Mattie’s birth mother was a 19-year-old girl who was apparently going through a hard time. Truthfully, Percy didn’t know much about her, but it wasn’t due to a lack of effort. When bio-mom picked Percy and Lydia to be the parents of her unborn child, she was in the final stages of her pregnancy and she didn’t want to meet them. The only thing Percy heard about her was that she moved out west somewhere only a week after Mattie was born.

As a social worker employed at Goode Middle School, Percy had the advantage of being college friends with many of the adoption agents. This helped speed up the adoption process tremendously. At first, he saw that as a blessing, but after the divorce, it seemed that Percy was under even more pressure to make his decision.

It took some long talks with his mom to convince Percy that he could still do this; be a single dad. But it was his little sister, Estelle, who convinced him he would be great at it. After all, he had partially helped raise her and she turned out okay. She ate all of their mom's blue cookies, but she was okay. Plus, his family would be right by his side. So, Percy went along with the adoption. He hasn't regretted it once.

Yes, Mattie was adopted, but two you could never really tell. Mattie was daddy's little girl from the very beginning. From their beach days together to their daddy-daughter dates to get cheeseburgers at the local diner, the two were inseparable. By some twist of fate, the baby girl had even grown up to have a shade of green eyes like her dad's.

And that wasn't where the similarities stopped. Mattie was a rambunctious and sarcastic kid. There are times when Percy isn't sure what to expect from her, but more often than not, Mattie was the most helpful and patient kid a single dad could ask for. Still, as easygoing as she could be, Percy knew how proud his daughter was. After being embarrassed in front of her friends, Mattie Jackson had something to prove.

"Just let me hit this ball downtown! Grand slam, home run, guaranteed," Mattie was a lot like her father, but she had ambition. She was a tough girl. A smart girl. She reminded Percy of-

"Okay, fine," He started, "but if it's anything less, you're making me a mug at camp."

The girl shuddered at the idea of having to participate in her least favorite camp activity but nodded nonetheless. She stepped back up to the plate. Mattie was athletic. She hopped around from sport to sport, mainly just for the experience, but there was nothing she loved more than swimming. Her father's love for the water was one of the many things the girl had picked up from him.

But right now, Mattie's focus wasn't on the water. Percy watched as she scrunched her nose up, waiting for the pitch. The boy at the pitchers' mound, one of Mattie's friends, Cody, was taking his sweet time with the ball. Right when it looked like he was about to throw the pitch, he instead turned to his team and signaled for them to back up.

Percy couldn't help the smirk that formed on his lips. He wanted a World's Best Dad mug, but at that moment, he wanted his daughter to show those kids who's boss more.

The ball was pitched and the next thing Percy knew, he was hearing the sweet sound of a crack made from the balls' contact with the bat. He cheered as his daughter took first, and again when she rounded the corner for second. The ball had landed somewhere far down the street and the rest of Mattie's team were assuring her it was safe. She made it to third and right when Percy was sure he wouldn't be getting his mug, a car pulled up and parked right over home plate.

Mattie slowed down and stopped right in front of the old car. A confused look was shared between the other kids, but she knew exactly who the vehicle belonged to. And while she was happy to see it, Mattie was pissed that she couldn't reach home from under the car.

"Mattie, your dad called me half an hour ago telling me that you two were just now starting to pack. What are you doing out here?"

Before the girl could answer, Cody's voice rang out at her side.

"Loosing," The boy mocked as he tagged the girl out with the ball.

Mattie turned towards him and glared, "There is no way this counts!"

***

"I want my mug to be blue," Percy teased his daughter as she walked back into their apartment, "with World's Best Dad written in big letters."

"You and I both know that you don't need a mug to know you're the best dad. Plus, I suck at clay molding," The girl complained, "Not to mention that it's the most boring activity at camp."

Her father smirked, "Well you should have thought of that before you agreed to the bet."

"Yeah, yeah, yeah," Mattie grumbled, "Can I just pay Rachel to do it for me?"

"No," He laughed, "and don't even try to go behind my back and do it anyway, because I will find out.”

"Okay, you two, settle down," Sally Jackson-Blofis' laughter rang out in the small apartment. As much as Mattie was a daddy's girl, Percy was a bigger mama's boy, "I came by to see you before you leave and drop off some cookies for the trip."

Mattie's eyes couldn't have bulged out of their sockets more when her grandmother pulled out the plastic tub of blue cookies. Just as she went to grab the box, it was pulled out of reach by her father, "Oh, no you don't."

"Oh, come on, dad!" Giving the best puppy dog look she could muster, Mattie looked up at Percy, "Just one?"

Percy had to look at his mother for support. There was little that his daughter couldn't get away with when that look was thrown his way, "Nope. Not until you're done packing."

"Seriously?" His daughter whined, "Wasn't calling me Matilda in front of all my friend's punishment enough?"

"You know, I was this close to naming you Janet," He mocked, holding his pointer finger and thumb so close they were barely touching.

Mattie's big eyes narrowed into a glare as she stuck her tongue out at her father, "Fine, but don't be surprised if your mug doesn't have a handle."

"I think you're just doing that to make the sculpting easier for you."

A small grin appeared on her face and she shrugged, "Maybe."

Percy rolled his eyes at the girl and chuckled as she walked back to her room. He turned back to his mom and saw her wearing the same endearing look she always has when she watches the interactions between her son and granddaughter.

"You've definitely raised a little you," Sally laughed.

"Well, in that case," Percy grinned and opened the Tupperware container holding the cookies, "I'm sorry for hogging the shower as a kid."

Sally took the container out of his hands before he got the chance to pick out a cookie, "And I'm sorry for not allowing you to be a hypocrite."

"What? I'm done with my packing!" Percy promised as he reached for the container.

"Even the extra blankets? You know how cold the bunks can get at night."

Percy was quiet for a moment before letting out a defeated groan, "You know, I was really proud of myself for a moment there."

"You should still be proud of yourself, honey," Sally grinned, "You're a great dad, and you and Mattie are going to have a great time at camp this year, just like you always do."

Camp Half-Blood was a summer camp that Percy had been attending since he was nine years old. His bio dad had attended the camp in his youth and it was one of the few things that Percy had left of the man after he died. When his mother remarried, it was a safe place away from his first stepfather, Smelly Gabe, a man that Sally Jackson only married because, at the time, she didn't have the funds to properly provide for her son. The camp had a big influence on the man Percy became. The experiences he had, the friends he made, the place where he felt closest to his father.

The girl he fell in love with.

Even years after he grew too old to be a camper, Percy found himself volunteering every summer as a camp counselor. A few years later, he was offered a paid position as an official counselor and the camp social worker. Chiron, the camp activities director, was more than happy to have him back. Especially, when he started bringing his daughter with him.

He couldn't help but smile at that, "Thanks, mom. I'm really excited about this year. You know, Camp Half-Blood was remodeled this past fall. Everything has been upgraded, I can't wait to see it."

"I'm sure it will look great. You've been complaining about the faulty flooring in the pavilion for years."

"There's been a giant crack going down the center of that thing ever since the earthquake back when I was still a camper. That's completely dangerous!"

His mother laughed and raised her arms in defeat, "Trust me, I agree. Still, with all the changes, I'm surprised that the camp could afford all the modifications."

"Yeah, I think the head of the architect company in charge is an old friend of Chiron's. Apparently, they will be coming down and checking out the camp, you know, to see how their work panned out, I guess."

"Well, you'll have to thank whoever they are for fixing your pavilion," Sally teased him as she grabbed a cookie out of the container and took a bite. Percy's mouth fell open as he stared at his mother with a look of betrayal, "What? I don't have to pack anything. Plus, a made them, I don't need justification."

"You are a cruel woman."

***

An hour and a half later, Percy and his daughter were packing their bags -and the extra blankets- into the car and heading towards Long Island Sound. With barely thirty minutes into the trip, half of Sally's cookies had been devoured and they had played a very enthusiastic game of Eye Spy.

"So," Mattie started as she reached for her fourth cookie, "is this the year you finally tell me who A.C. is?”

When Mattie was seven, during her first year at camp, Percy was adamant about showing her everything from his time at camp. Including all his favorite spots and activities from his time there. They visited the horse stables, where Percy told his daughter stories about his favorite horses and how he was one of the best riders. He took her to the strawberry field where they picked strawberries with her uncle Grover, just like the two had done when they were boys. But he was most excited about taking her to the dock and swimming in the water. Some of his most precious memories were made at that beach, on the dock. It was a special place for him. A place where he used to sit with her and escape from the world. A place where a first kiss was perfect under the Fourth of July fireworks. A place where carved initials still stood to this day.

When Mattie first found the letters carved at the end of the dock, she knew immediately that they weren't new. The marks had faded with time. When she realized that the first set of letters in P.J. + A.C. looked familiar, she decided to ask her father, Percy Jackson, if he knew who made the marks. Percy had never been a good liar. That was the day Mattie found out everything about her father's days at Camp Half-Blood. Everything, except who A.C. was.

"Mattie," Percy sighed, eyes staying on the road, "I've told you a thousand times, she's just an old friend. I haven't spoken to her in years, since before you were even born. I don't understand why you're so interested in this."

"Because friends don't carve their initials together on a dock for the world to see," The young girl persisted, blue crumbs falling from the side of her mouth, "That's what couples do in movies and stuff."

"Well, that explains it then. This isn't a movie, T," Truthfully, Percy wasn't sure if he was trying to convince her or himself more, "Besides, the camp went under construction this year, I'm sure the old dock was torn down and rebuilt. It was old."

Although, he would never admit this to his daughter, Percy was hoping, and wishing, and praying to anyone who would listen that the dock stayed the same. Percy would be lying if he said that he wasn't anxious about seeing it again. The thing was old, and he knew that the safety of the campers outweighed the feeling he still got in his stomach when he saw their initials carved together.

Maybe he could have called Chiron. Asked him if the new camp architect would spare that last plank of wood at the very edge of the water. Asked if he could keep it. One last memory of the childhood love he would never admit to never getting over.

What a ridiculous idea, he thought. Still, he always got like this in the summer, especially at camp.

Despite the fact that he was avoiding eye contact and staring towards the road, Percy could feel Mattie's frustrated gaze staring him down, but he held his ground. He was never going to see her again. The last time he saw her gray eyes staring back at him was at eighteen years old, their last summer as campers. She lived in San Francisco, California and would be going to UC Berkeley in the fall. He wasn't surprised, she was a genius. But Percy? He would stay in Manhattan and go to college on a swimming scholarship. They would try and stay in touch like how they did growing up. Busy schedules and adulthood would cause them to fail. Percy would still think of her, but he'd still get married to another woman. Percy would try to make it work, but he would still find himself wishing Lydia were her, and hating himself for it. So he tried to stop, but he couldn't help wondering. Wondering what she was doing. Wondering what could have been. But they hadn't spoken in years.

There was no point in telling his daughter how wonderful she was, because he knew Mattie would fall in love with her, just as he did. And they would never meet.

So, no. Percy would not tell his daughter about the girl he spent every summer with. He would not tell her about the girl who made fun of him for drooling in his sleep. He would not tell her about the girl who would sit with him at the dock and draw building structures while they talked about nothing and everything all at once. He would not tell her about the girl who's comfort book was Matilda, and that she made him read it, and that him joking about how she probably had superpowers like the character, because she too was a genius, made her blush. Percy would not tell his daughter because it would hurt too much.

Percy would not tell his daughter about his first love, Annabeth Chase.

*********

part two :)

[ohblackdiamond]

till it shines (peter/paul, nc-17)

"Look, I'm not gonna quit, I swear. If we have to end the tour, we have to end the tour. We get dropped from the label, we get dropped from the label. We lick our wounds and we try somewhere else. But until then, we got awhile in this hotel." "And no shows." "Yeah." During a five-day lull in concerts, stranded in an Atlanta hotel, Peter and Paul find a means to entertain themselves.

Notes: Inspired and based to a heavy extent on a very lovely, NSFW fanart concerning Paul's on-tour artistic endeavors. No, not the ones he showcases in galleries. 

“till it shines”

by Ruriruri

It was the last day of the Gay Kitchen, with honorable maitre d's, cooks, servers, and busboys Peter Criss and Paul Stanley manning KISS' dwindling hotel fridge and supply closet. At least, it was supposed to be. Peter didn't know if after last night, it was still on the table.

At first, they'd really wanted to go all-out with the band dinners, but their budget hadn't permitted it. One last hurrah before they had to limp back to New York, with a single failed record to their names and all the notoriety of four strays in a junkyard. Back to Lydia for Peter-and Lydia wasn't so bad, Lydia wasn't so bad at all; she'd supported him through worse screw-ups and disappointments, but it was what she represented. A guy who still wasn't paying the bills four years into the marriage wasn't any better than a bum. She'd thought she'd found somebody who'd be going places. She'd been wrong.

For Paul, the prospect of going home was just as disastrous. At least, that was how he made it out to be. He'd get into these depressed rambles about his parents and his sister and his niece and how coming back just wasn't an option.

"Not an option? C'mon, you were in college, what, a couple of quarters-"

Paul had winced and licked his lips, a quick, nervous tic Peter had gotten far too accustomed to seeing as the band's money situation worsened.

"I only went a week. Don't tell Gene." And a swallow. "Look, it's stupid. I know. But I was born to play rock and roll, okay?"

"You're preaching to the fucking choir."

"I mean. if I can't do this, if I can't make this happen, I might as well not be here. This is the only outlet I've got."

Peter had rubbed the back of his neck and tried not to groan. Overblown as ever. Paul thought Peter was the dramatic one, the tetchy one, just because he had enough balls to address what was pissing him off instead of keeping it to occasional bitchy comments. Paul never seemed to hear his own whines.

"You think you're the only one with a dream around here?" Peter couldn't even bite back the rest. "How old were you when the Beatles got on Ed Sullivan? Ten?"

"Twelve," Paul had grumbled back. "Don't make this an age thing-"

"I was just out of high school. And I was already in bands-"

"Pete, I know, I know already. You keep telling me." Paul heaved a sigh. "You keep telling all of us."

"You've got to pay your dues, that's all it is."

"Got to pay your dues if you wanna sing the blues." The right edge of Paul's mouth was starting to perk up.

"Yeah." Peter tugged absently at his bangs, trying not to let himself get too good a look at what he'd been seeing since before he even auditioned for KISS. The semi-permanent dye they all used worked fine on brown hair, but past that first wash, it was useless on gray. The streaks were more obvious against the jet-black backdrop than they'd ever been when he left his hair alone. "Look, I'm not gonna quit, I swear. If we have to end the tour, we have to end the tour. We get dropped from the label, we get dropped from the label. We lick our wounds and we try somewhere else. But until then, we got awhile in this hotel."

"And no shows."

"Yeah." No shows for the next five days at least. Their last pitiful handful of concerts, they'd opened for some redneck band. Outlaws or something. That was another depressing thing. Peter had always expected to at least be friendly with the bands they were the lead-in for, but they'd only been met with indifference at best and hostility at worst. Never ended up opening for the same band more than a few times, either. It just made the whole tour all the lonelier.

He realized after a second that Paul was staring at him. The guy had a weird stare. Kind of like a broke bagboy waiting on his tip, or maybe just like a girl who was really hoping for a proposal. Big-eyed, eager, and not remotely calculating. It might have pissed Peter off, if Paul didn't always follow it up with an abashed grin once he was caught.

"You're thinking about something," Paul said, before Peter could make the accusation himself.

"Yeah. I'm thinking we all need cheering up."

"You need cheering up, Peter."

"You just finished telling me you'd die if you didn't make it, Paul." He paused, still staring at the fridge. "And fuck, I'm gonna die if I have to eat at McDonalds one more time."

"Well, they've got Steak 'n Shake here, if you'd rather."

Peter groaned.

"Not when you're in a fucking blouse and heels. The crowd thinking we're fruits is bad enough." Before Paul could even stammer out a protest, something about it being rock and roll, or about needing more practice in the heels-God, c'mon-Peter continued. "No. I thought we could make our own dinner while we're here. Really make it, not just sandwiches and shit. Real food. We got the kitchen for it. And it'd save Bill some money. You know how to cook, right?" He knew Gene didn't. Ace just wouldn't.

"I'd hope so. My mom started leaving us home alone when I was eight."

"Poor, poor little Paulie." Peter rolled his eyes. "We could-we could make it themed, even. Make out like it's a restaurant. Menus and shit. Invite the guys down for dinner."

Paul brightened, which surprised him. Usually he'd be sore for hours over the slightest crack at his expense, like some spoiled, anxious kid. But for once, he actually seemed excited.

"Like Italian one night, maybe? We could make pizza."

"Yeah, sure, lemme get a shopping list going."

After three beers apiece, they'd named their restaurant the Gay Kitchen, decided they'd act the part of its bent proprietors, and written up a menu full of double-entendres. An hour later, still drunk, they'd pooled their money and ventured out to town in jeans and the lowest of their heels. They'd bought twenty bucks' worth of groceries, which should have been plenty. Then they'd started in on meal prep.

Strange how fun it was. Especially that first night, working on a poor man's casserole, with the radio on and Paul standing next to him chopping up onions, his hands encased in Ziploc sandwich bags because he didn't want the smell on his skin, while Peter cut half-frozen chicken breasts into ragged little cubes. They'd tossed the whole thing into the pan with some salt and pepper, dumped a can of cream of mushroom soup on top, stuck it in the oven and hoped for the best. He knew they should've gone with canned stuff entirely, especially for the meat, if they'd really wanted to save money, but the Gay Kitchen experience demanded the expenditure. At least, that was their excuse.

Besides, Ace and Gene had loved it. Not for the food so much. Peter figured their dinners were decent, maybe even good, sometimes, but he couldn't kid himself. There was nothing impressive about a dessert course that included Hostess cupcakes "with fresh Cool Whip." But the makeshift restaurant had done the job. Cheered them all up. No one said a word during any of the dinners about the tour ending or going back home. Not a single word. And he and Paul had screwed around, too, acting faggy, hitting on each other and the guys indiscriminately throughout the meals. Last night, Paul had even groped his ass while he was mincing around plating everyone's food.

"I had to take him off the menu." Peter could've sworn Paul was deliberately making that annoying lisp of his even worse during each dinner. Pitching his voice into a whine, too. Some commitment. Peter had glanced up, questioningly, but Paul had just ignored him and continued. "You see why, right? He's got such a nice ass-all the boys were looking, I couldn't help but get jealous-"

"Course you're jealous. You dieted yours off, Paulie," Ace had retorted with a laugh. Peter had been vaguely surprised Paul didn't break character at that, just clicked his tongue disapprovingly, his hand still on Peter's ass. Not squeezing anymore, thank God, but Peter had still felt the ghost of Paul's fingers there hours later when they'd both turned in for bed.

Looking back, maybe that was where it had really started. Glancing over at Paul on the double bed next to his, watching him, knees up, with the pad of hotel stationery in his lap and a pencil in his hand, Peter had cleared his throat. Paul lifted his head from where he'd been scribbling.

"Yeah?"

"What're you drawing?"

Paul held up the stationery without a hint of embarrassment. The usual weirdly accurate assortment of veiny, disembodied dicks covered the page.

"What do you always draw those for, anyway?"

Paul shrugged.

"I dunno. Why does Gene refuse to shower?"

"Because his mom told him even his B.O. was sacred." Peter rolled his eyes. "You got a fixation."

"<i>You've</i> got a fixation. You're the one always getting your dick out."

"Getting it out's not the same as drawing it. . That's not even your dick. Whose do you keep on-"

"I went to art school, asshole." There wasn't much of an edge to Paul's words, Peter noticed. "Life drawing comes with the territory."

"In high school? Jesus." Peter cocked his head, trying to decide if Paul was bullshitting him, but Paul was already back to doodling, his eyes averted. "You ever gonna attach them to anybody, or are they just gonna keep floating around?"

"Well, I thought I'd attach them to you, but then I realized that'd mean I'd have to draw your face."

"Oh, fuck you, Paul." He didn't know why, but he got up then, moved to sit on Paul's bed. Paul stopped scribbling just long enough to shift over for him. Peter leaned in, vying for a better look at the sketches. Six, no, seven dicks, from a couple different angles, all varying levels of erect. The balls were so accurate it was almost disturbing. "Ain't even mine. They're too small."

"These are scaled down."

"The shape's wrong, too. Was that one supposed to be bent like that?" Peter pointed at the offending cock, right in the center of the paper. He kind of thought it was intentional. There was something uncanny about Paul's artwork-well, the dick drawings, anyway. His other offerings, at least the ones Peter had seen-splattery acrylic abstracts from his high school portfolio, and the occasional insulting cartoon of his bandmates on the back of a paper napkin-lacked that attention to detail. And that enthusiasm. It was weird. Forget the rockstar shit; Peter almost wondered if Paul's true calling was illustrating gay porno mags.

Paul shifted the paper, blinking at him slowly.

"Are you really critiquing my doodles here?"

"Well, yeah. If you're gonna draw dicks, at least don't draw them bent."

"What's wrong with drawing them bent? Some guys have fucked-up dicks."

"Who do you know with a fucked-up dick? Gene?" Paul's was fine. Smaller than his, sure, but there wasn't anything the matter with it. Peter got a good look at it in the showers after concerts, and during occasional threesomes with college girls that didn't qualify as groupies. Paul didn't care about nudity any more than he or Ace did, which was a relief. Especially since Gene was so weird about it. Months on the road and he still wouldn't strip down in front of the band. Peter had asked Paul why. Paul had said something about Gene going to some Jewish school and that giving him hang-ups, which sounded ridiculous to Peter. If Jewish school was anything like Catholic school, then it was a flimsy excuse for changing in closets and behind closed doors like some chick. Gene probably just had something terribly, shamefully wrong with his dick. Smallness or herpes or both.

"What? No."

Pete scooted over some more. Paul's posture was slightly stiffer than it had been before, but he still moved to give Peter room. Not that the double bed had much space to begin with.

"Does that mean you've seen it?" Peter wasn't sure why he was pressing the issue. Probably because Paul didn't seem all that uncomfortable. In fact, ever since the start of the Gay Kitchen, he'd been more relaxed, more talkative. It'd been nice. Peter watched Paul's lips purse for a second before he replied.

"Come off it. I don't have the right equipment for the privilege."

"Just eat some more and you'll get the tits down."

"Oh, fuck you, Pete." Paul jabbed his elbow into Peter's ribs, just hard enough for Peter to jerk back, but after a second he was scooting in closer again, just to prove he couldn't be nudged off that easily.

Maybe it had been a lower blow than Peter had meant to take. God knew the poor guy worried more about his weight than a chick. Lydia once said Paul was shaped like a rectangle. Just thick, straight lines from his shoulders all the way to his ass, and no definition anywhere. And he had been, but that wasn't the case these days. Paul had ended up with a bad bout of stomach flu about a month and a half into the tour. He would pull himself together enough to do the night's show, but afterwards, Peter'd had to listen to him get up, agonized and grunting, at two in the morning, and hear him retching into the hotel toilet. Paul had probably dropped fifteen pounds since then. Maybe more.

He looked better now. His abdomen still wasn't flat and he still cinched in his waist with a corset onstage, but Peter figured Paul did look a little closer to-well, whatever the hell a frontman was supposed to look like-and a little farther from the shy kid from Queens who drove the band's milk truck to and from gigs. Shouldn't be something Peter was already nostalgic about, especially since they were probably right about to head back to the milk trucks and ballrooms, but he was.

He could hear the scratch of Paul's pencil against the stationery. Paul wasn't going to retort. He'd just sulk and doodle more dicks until he got tired enough to turn off the lamp and tell Peter to get off the bed so he could sleep. Peter licked his lips, mouth suddenly dry, and he spoke.

"You know what? Maybe you should draw mine."

He hadn't thought the comment through. It just splattered from the corner of his brain to his mouth. Maybe he was just trying to get a response out of Paul, see if he could come up with an insulting way to put him off, or if he'd just stammer out a refusal. Instead, all Peter got in return was a raised eyebrow.

"Your dick?"

"Yeah, my dick."

"You're volunteering?"

Shit. Shit, now he had to commit to it. Peter shrugged, somehow managed a tilted sort of grin, and leaned back on his hands.

"Why not? Least that'd keep you from doing all those crooked, veiny ones."

"Yeah, 'cause yours is fucking Adonis,' right-"

Adonis must've been some underground rocker only college kids had ever heard of. Peter wasn't about to admit to his own ignorance.

"Nobody's complained yet. C'mon, Paulie, how about it?"

Paul hesitated visibly. Peter almost didn't think he was going to agree to it. Too nerved-out by the suggestion. But then Paul nodded, his black curls-somewhat limper without the Aquanet and teasing brush forcing them into bushy, puffy proportions-bouncing slightly as he did.

"Yeah, sure. Go ahead."

Peter yanked off the ratty pajama pants that were all he ever went to bed in, tossing them to the floor. Turned around so he was facing Paul head-on, legs stretched in front of him. He could feel Paul staring at his face, and then at his cock, as he tore out the doodle-covered paper and started on the fresh one beneath. He hadn't gotten more than a few scribbles in when Peter realized-

"Hey, wait a minute. You're not drawing it soft."

"I'm just gonna draw what I see."

"No, you aren't. Hang on."

"Hang on?"

Paul blinked, the beginnings of a mild smirk edging across his face. The expression didn't really sit right on him, somehow. Paul's mouth seemed to Peter to only really look okay when it was either pursed in a pout or spread in a hopeless kind of smile.

Luckily, that smirk of his dissolved as soon as Peter closed his hand around his dick, starting to pump. He didn't look at Paul while he was doing it, not at first, his gaze veering more towards the pad of paper and the burnt orange florals of the covers. His breath wasn't hitching yet, but the pleasure was starting to seep through on practiced automatic. A little harder. A little faster, and Peter's brow was furrowing, eyes glazed, focus on anything but his own dick starting to fade.

Except it couldn't fade completely. Not with Paul barely a foot away from him, his big brown eyes furtively darting between Peter's cock and the pencil, his mouth tight. Looking over at him, Peter could almost swear he saw the faint start of a blush cropping up on Paul's cheeks. "Jesus, relax, would you? I'm not gonna come here."

"Wow, isn't that a relief," Paul mumbled, rolling the pencil back and forth between his finger and thumb.

"'S not like you haven't seen this before." A solid five or six times by now, minus the fact that it was usually a girl's mouth or hand on Peter's cock instead of his own. They weren't great at sharing the not-quite-groupies yet. It had taken awhile before they figured out positioning that'd get all three of them off, and that always hinged on whether the girl was down for it. Once they'd ended up with a chick who'd gotten too intimidated by two guys at once, and after a round of debate over who'd go first, Paul had ended up slinking off to the shower while Peter made it with her. Unsurprisingly, she'd been so satiated she'd fallen asleep by the time Paul returned, and they'd both had to lug her out of the hotel room and into the hallway. Paul had been pissed off. Peter just found it funny.

Paul looked as if he were about to say something, but then he shut his mouth. Peter exhaled, letting his eyes shut for a second while he kept pumping, no fantasy in mind, just the simple mechanics of pleasure. Jacking off was mindless, with or without an audience. Nothing meaningful. Nothing to consider. And Paul, for whatever reason, was still just watching him do it. That pencil lead hadn't even touched the paper. Peter took a sharp breath before he spoke again.

"Good enough?"

He'd stopped himself once he was fully hard, but before any precome could dribble out from the reddened tip. He could feel his face getting flushed, a little sweat starting to trickle on his forehead, but he was all right. If things got too bad, he could always head over to the shower to finish rubbing it out, after Paul was done drawing. But he didn't think it would come to that, though his cock twitched in protest. Paul gave a distracted nod.

"Yeah. It's fine."

Then he finally started to draw again. Peter leaned over, trying to get a glance in, but Paul kept covering up the pad with his other hand, swatting at him when he got too close. Peter snorted.

"C'mon, you're not drawing the Mona Lisa here."

"You throw me off watching."

"What'm I supposed to do, just sit here?"

"That's exactly what you're supposed to do." Paul was erasing now, but carefully. One of those cheap pink erasers. He brushed the residue off the paper, and it landed on the covers, tiny black streaks of rubber against the orange comforter. Deprived of watching Paul at work, Peter tried to focus his attention on the eraser remnants, flicking them.

It didn't really help. Despite himself, Peter was starting to squirm. He didn't think Paul was drawing anything past his dick, but he'd been trying to stay still anyway. His thighs kept twitching involuntarily. The ache in his balls was getting irritating enough that he gave in to a few more strokes, shoving his hand in the covers as soon as he heard Paul laugh.

"You having trouble keeping it up?"

"Fuck you, you know that's not it-"

"Gimme a couple more minutes, all right, Pete?" A pause. "And get a little closer, there." He reached his hand out, fingers curving lightly around Peter's bare knee, just for a second. Immaculately manicured nails, bizarre for a guitarist, even one who hadn't played a gig in almost a week. The black nail polish hadn't even chipped. But Peter only really noticed how the warmth against his skin seemed to linger on after Paul had withdrawn his hand. "There."

Peter got closer. His legs were flat on the bed and spread slightly, toes touching the wall by the time he got closer; he'd ended up more to Paul's side. His painfully hard, flushed dick stood out sharp against the rest of his body, craving attention he couldn't-wouldn't-give yet. He'd get that touch in later. He'd get off on his own. A couple more minutes, like Paul said. Yeah.

The amused expression on Paul's face had shifted, gotten focused and intent. The way it did when he was trying to pull a riff together, or a set of lyrics. Peter didn't much care for that look-usually it meant Paul would try to banish whoever was in the same room, whether it was him or Ace or even Gene, so he could be alone with whatever brilliant thoughts he had. But now that look was locked on him instead. Partially. Flattering, maybe, to be mulled over like a rhyme that didn't flow, or a chord that wasn't right yet, but Peter knew that if he thought too hard about it, he'd get disgusted. So he just let his mind wander to the sound of Paul's pencil scraping across the page.

Peter didn't really notice at first when that sound stopped. Or when Paul put the pencil down. The pad of paper was still resting on his lap. Peter inhaled, waiting, figuring Paul would hand it over-with a joking autograph, probably-any second-but then a mass of dark curls ended up right in Peter's face. Paul was leaning in, heavily, breaths hot and heavy against Peter's neck. He pushed away the pad of paper, his bare chest pressed up flush against Peter's. Peter opened his mouth, started to say something, and then swallowed it down when Paul's hand wrapped around his dick.

Peter couldn't believe it. Didn't protest or argue-didn't want to. He was surprised, that was all. Surprised Paul would go for it. Have that kind of nerve. Paul didn't pull back enough to look him in the eye. Didn't say a word.

His palm was sweaty against Peter's cock, fingers only a little callused. The first few strokes were too slow, unintentional teasing, but then Paul got steadier, built up a rhythm. Like doing it to yourself, Ace had told him once, lazily, in the worst and best advice Peter had ever gotten on handjobs, but different. Different. Peter could feel Paul's heartbeat against him, like a pinball smashing against the bumpers. Each breath was getting more tattered, soft curses forcing their way from Peter's throat; each inhale pushed more of Paul's Aramis cologne into his lungs. Peter's hands, curled up into the covers, flew up desperately as he got closer, warmth and need pulsating inside him, threatening to burst-clenching Paul's shoulder, his back-holding him there, right there, as he spilled into Paul's hand.

Paul let go as abruptly as he'd started. His whole body froze up, and he shifted backwards, brushing away Peter's hands, dark eyes wide, almost scared. He scrambled off the bed and onto Peter's, yanking the covers around him like a little kid caught up too late.

"Paul?"

"I'm sorry," he said, and shut off the lamp.

--

Peter got up early the next morning, before the alarm clock, but it didn't matter. Paul was already gone-got a cab, evidently, leaving everyone else with the crappy tour bus. Peter could hear Ace and Gene grumbling about it through the wall before he got out of bed, stopping short of the pad of paper and pencil on the floor. He picked both up and took a look.

The drawing was immaculate. Paul had gotten the balls just right. Everything. Taken the time to shade it, even, like it was a serious study. He'd signed it, too-initialed it, rather, P.S. nestled in a forlorn corner. No date. Peter tore the sheet carefully from the pad of paper, looking at it, unsure of what to do with it. Whether to keep it or not. He ended up setting it on the nightstand, face down, before crossing over to what had been his bed up until last night. He didn't have to pull back the sheets to see the semen stain from where Paul had wiped off his hand.

He could've used some washing off himself after last night. No Paul hogging the shower was an empty comfort right now, as Peter turned on the water, letting it get blisteringly hot before stepping inside. It didn't really help.

Paul was back before lunch, anyway, quiet and withdrawn. Bill was talking about booking them a couple more shows further down South-a terrifying prospect, but better than heading home-and Gene was chatting about it with all his usual enthusiasm, while Ace added vodka and ice to his coffee. Paul just looked sunk. Gene kept throwing questioning looks Paul's way, and glancing at Peter, but if he ever asked outright, Peter never heard it.

The band meeting drifted off into nothing after awhile. Paul got up abruptly, saying something about a headache, and excused himself with about as much subtlety as a dying animal. It was a few minutes before Peter got up the nerve to follow him back to their room-and, as expected, Paul had locked the door.

"Paul, c'mon-"

The sound of the knob turning was almost gratifying. Paul was standing there, looking awkward, mouth pursed. Peter noticed, belatedly, that for all Paul had gotten up early that morning, he hadn't shaved, stubble poking hopelessly all around his jaw. His t-shirt and jeans-one of maybe ten street outfits he'd rotated over the tour, same as Peter, same as everyone else-were rumpled past what Paul usually would allow for.

"You didn't have to come check on me."

"I did, we share a room."

Paul swallowed.

"Look, if you wanna change rooms, go ahead, just don't tell Gene about-"

"I ain't telling Gene nothing. And I don't wanna change rooms." Pete exhaled. The look on Paul's face twitched just a bit, but Peter didn't give him a chance to respond before plowing back in. "Are we gonna do Gay Kitchen tonight?"

Paul flinched. Almost like he thought Peter meant it badly, or was making fun of him, or something. Like one of those Japanese trees, the ones with flat leaves that folded up after the briefest brush of a hand. One word and he'd curl back up. One touch, leaving Peter all out of sorts, trying to undo the trick, get those leaves to unfurl again.

"Do you want to?"

"Ace was asking earlier."

"Oh." Paul turned away, walking over to the kitchenette on the other side of the room. He pulled open the fridge, getting out the last can of Coke, popping the top before he really answered. "I guess."

"C'mon, it's our last night here. It'll be fun."

"We're almost out of food."

"We've got enough. Still have those hot dogs." Peter felt awkward, still standing there, barely past the doorframe, as if he was a visitor to his own hotel room. He stepped over to sit on one of the beds. The drawing wasn't on the nightstand anymore. "Hey-"

"What?"

Peter's throat was suddenly a little dry. The words were out before he could hold them back.

"You didn't have to get rid of it."

"It was stupid."

"No, it wasn't. It-it was good, Paulie."

Paul was still all tensed up. Like a battery coil on the verge of springing. Peter almost thought he was going to walk out, more prepared to face Gene and Ace or another lousy cab ride than spend the rest of the day with him, but instead, Paul sat down on the other bed.

"You really don't wanna change rooms." He said it flatly, borderline disbelieving, clasping the Coke can in both hands. He looked strangely young, sitting like that. The six years between them never felt like much except when Peter really let himself give it some thought. At twenty-two, he sure as hell hadn't been on the road with a record, however indifferently-received. Hadn't made it-with threesomes, even-with a whole bunch of girls. He resented it when he considered it, but right now, all Peter was considering was the tightness of Paul's lips and the way he was staring at the floor.

He was just a kid, really. Scared of getting rejected as any other kid, hell, as any other adult. Putting on onstage, putting on during their dinners, only ever peeling back how he really was during all the time in between. The worries and frets, the painful, painful shyness behind every sharp retort. The panicked heartbeat against Peter's chest last night as he'd pushed past his nerves for something he wanted.

Something Peter wanted, too.

"Fuck, no. You and me are the only ones around here that know how to pick up our own shit."

"Pete, that's not it-"

"No. No, it's not it. C'mere. C'mere," he said, quietly, scooting forward on the bed, hands resting awkwardly on either side of him, those orange covers clashing badly with his chipped black nail polish and cheap silver rings. He watched as Paul set down the Coke can and stood up, crossing the tiny threshold between their beds. He still looked like he was about to flee. One wrong word, one sudden movement and it'd be over.

So Peter was slow, agonizingly slow to take his arm and tug him forward. Paul let him do it, didn't go rigid at all, though the fear in those wide eyes was still there. Peter wanted it to fade; suddenly, he wanted it to fade more than anything, as he got to his feet, palm hot against Paul's arm. As he leaned in, pushing Paul's dark curls behind his shoulder, and pressed his lips to Paul's neck.

Paul didn't respond at first. Then, just as Peter was about to pull away, he felt Paul's other hand close around his. Too shy to even lock their fingers together. But that was all right. That was all right. Peter did it for him, shifting his hand in Paul's until their fingers were laced. He raised his head, and Paul's mouth met his, cautious and careful. None of that too-eager fooling around like with the girls. None of that silent desperation from last night. Peter liked this better, every second feeling warmer and fuller than the last. As if he was just on the brink of discovering something grand as his tongue slid across Paul's lips and he let go of Paul's arm to trace the stubble on his jaw, cup his chin in his hand. Paul parted his lips for him, Peter tasting cereal and toothpaste when his tongue slipped inside, but he didn't care. Paul was opening up for him. Finally opening up.

It wasn't too long before Paul started pressing up against him, hips rocking meaningfully against his. Somewhere along the line, he'd ended up with Paul's hair in his fist, and he tugged, lightly, urging him forward as he sat back down on the bed. Tugged his hand, too, as if he needed to. Paul got the picture, following him down, timidity shifting to urgency, until Peter's back was pressed against the mattress. Peter thought about yanking his hair hard for that one, and he might have, except Paul kept kissing him all the way down, except Paul's knee was rubbing against his crotch, his thin blue jeans barely a barrier at all.

Peter's breath hitched as Paul shifted lower, moving off of him enough that Peter could shuck off his own shirt and toss it to the floor. Paul was unzipping him, those long, thin fingers hooking around his belt loops and pulling down his jeans. Freeing his cock, already far too hard, worse than last night, easily. Peter took a sharp inhale when Paul sank down, pushing his thighs apart with his knee, and started to lick at his cock. All the way down, pouring on the attention, fingers pressing hard against his hips, keeping them steady. Peter watched, dazed, breaths hitching, until Paul's warm mouth was around just the tip of his cock.

"Paul, hold on."

Paul pulled back, lifting his head like he'd done something wrong.

"What?"

"You don't know how to do it, don't worry about it." It was just a guess, but Peter figured it was a good enough one. And that wasn't all of it. He didn't think Paul would give himself enough leeway for a screw-up. Perfection or nothing.

Paul hesitated.

"But-"

"It's okay, man." It was hard to think past the blood pumping straight to his dick, going untouched for now, but Peter was managing, barely. The brief image of Paul with his lips around his dick was promising enough, the lead-in for a dozen jerk-off fantasies already. Maybe more than that. "Just-c'mon, let me-"

He tugged Paul back up, helping him peel off his t-shirt, then his jeans and underwear. Taking him in like this, with no girl between them, didn't feel strange or wrong or any of that bullshit; it felt good, every shed layer lending Peter more skin to touch, making him more certain of everything. Despite the concert performances, despite the threesomes and the locker room showers, he'd never really gotten a sense of Paul's physicality before. Now that Paul was straddling him, hair hanging in his face, mouth pressed to his neck, his ear, Peter could really see it all, the wide, powerful build of his chest before it bore down against Peter's, his arms, taut and muscular, tensing as Peter's hands tightened around them. Paul's cock brushed against his, sending a jolt of electricity through Peter, and then he was grinding up against him, their hips flush, flesh against flesh. Peter was cursing before long, the stimulation maddening, almost agonizing because it wasn't quite enough. Paul seemed like he sensed it, reaching over, taking both their cocks together in one hand-but Peter shook his head.

"I've got a better idea."

"Yeah?" Paul's fingers rolled up against his cock just so, the pressure of his hand and his dick incredible enough that Peter almost changed his mind. Looking up at him, that slightly-sweaty brow, those dark eyes, dilated and needy, Peter nodded, fingers closing on Paul's wrist.

"Yeah. I already know you can jack me off." An exhale. "Get on your back and I'll show you what I can do."

Paul let go of him. There was a little consternation somewhere in his expression, a hesitancy Peter tried to erase, hand running down Paul's hairy chest, fingers tweaking a nipple, but Paul did as he'd asked, grasping Peter by the shoulders and rolling them both over. Peter shifted, repositioning himself on top of Paul, putting his hands beneath his thighs. Almost immediately, Paul stiffened up, started to try and lift up his legs. Peter pushed them back down before he could.

"Nah, we're not doing that. Don't worry." Peter watched some of the tension fade from Paul's face, curiosity replacing it. "Spread your legs out a little. there, now." He slid his dick between Paul's thighs, tip right up against Paul's taint. He didn't need to instruct further. Paul's mouth tilted in a distracted grin, his thighs closing tight around Peter's dick-and from there, Peter started to thrust, the soft warmth surrounding his cock nearly overpowering.

Paul was finally making a few sharp sounds as Peter's thrusts sped up, thighs squeezing hard against his cock. The sounds got louder, turned into curses, turned into strangled attempts at Peter's name. Between Paul's moans and his own urgency, Peter couldn't think, his pace speeding up, every brush against Paul's cock, every tensing of Paul's thighs pushing him closer to the brink. He came with a cry, spurting hot between Paul's legs, Paul still urging him to keep going, just a few more, a few more. He managed, grunting, shuddering with exertion as he kept thrusting. Beneath him, Paul looked out of it and focused all at once, dick throbbing against his. So close. Too close. It was seconds before Paul came, quieter, spilling all over them both, head lolling back in the aftermath. Peter was still panting as he slid his cock out from between Paul's slick thighs, as Paul put an arm around him, pressing a kiss to his jaw, his cheek, before finally meeting his lips again.

--

The Gay Kitchen's final evening went well. Ace and Gene had brought dessert-a box of oatmeal creme pies and a gallon of cheap Neapolitan ice cream-and they'd served it along with the hot dogs and stale chips. A beer apiece, except for Gene, who got a Sprite from the machine downstairs in a rare spendthrift moment. Paul's come-ons and gropes weren't any heavier than the night before, but there was a warmth and a relaxation in him that was new to Peter. A softer look to his expression he'd only been privy to late, late at night in the hotels, just before he drifted off.

Peter liked that. He liked that a lot. Feeling that, maybe, something of Paul's might be reserved for him. That maybe he'd be let in for more than an afternoon. He thought he might be. He figured he would be.

They didn't fool around that night. They didn't really have the time to. Once dinner was over and Ace and Gene had gone back to their room, Peter took a shower, and then he started packing, too-aware of how quick check-out came. Particularly when they were headed straight down to the bottom edge of Florida tomorrow, a solid ten or eleven hours on the road, to play at some college or auditorium or-something. Peter was just glad Bill had secured them another handful of tour dates, no matter the location.

He tossed his makeup kit and street clothes and shoes back into his suitcase, fiddling with the wobbly latches, tracing the crack down one side. Ten to one the damn thing would break before they got out of Atlanta, but maybe he could tie a scarf around it or something to hold the luggage together. He turned to Paul, who was sitting on the floor next to him with his own ratty suitcase half on his lap, about to ask him, but Paul spoke first.

"You forgot your heels."

"I didn't. They're in the laundry bag with everyone else's."

"Not the ones that go with your costume. The other pair." Paul pointed under the bed. There they were, three-inch platforms he'd barely worn all tour, neatly placed. He didn't remember putting them there.

He pulled them out, a piece of paper under one heel catching his eye. Setting the heels aside, he picked up the paper.

"Paul?"

It was the drawing of his dick. Paul hadn't thrown it away after all. He glanced over at him, and Paul smiled, a little bashful. That hopeless smile he hadn't been able to plaster on a single promo picture, more endearing and elusive than any sketch.

"It's for you. I don't know if I'd frame it, but."

Peter felt himself grin back.

"Are you kidding? It's the best drawing of my dick anyone's ever gonna give me. I'll keep it forever." Peter held it up, examining it anew. "There's only one problem."

"I thought you were done critiquing my art."

"Hell, no." And Peter handed it back. "You gotta sign it for me."

"I initialed it-"

"Sign it. Make it worth a million bucks someday." Peter didn't think he'd stop smiling as he leaned over, tousling Paul's hair. "You can even add the star."

[gloriousstudentfury-love]

Strays ✰

12

y/n’s POV

Alex and I walked in with two boxes filled with candy bars. Alex had to sell them for his baseball team, and insisted I had to help out. Only reason I finally decided to, was because I knew he'd owe me a favor in the future.

"Glad you're here." Alex said to his family, as he set one of the boxes on the counter

I struggled to lift the other boxes up onto the counter, and just stood there and laughed at me.

"Yeah, I don't need help. I'm good." I said sarcastically, glaring at him until I finally managed to get them up

"It's baseball fundraiser time again. Abuelita these are for you to sell at church. And, Mom, I guess at work, or wherever you go. Also, y/n here's some for you to sell around the building." Alex said, handing out the boxes I had just put on the counter

"Uh, didn't agree to that." I argued, shaking my head

"Deadline is Friday. Most sales gets a PlayStation. So let's really go after it, people." Alex said, ignoring me and clapping his hands together

"Ooh, I got a great idea. Sell them yourself." Penelope said, pushing the boxes back towards

"You know? I like that idea." I said, plopping the candies bars Alex had given me, back into his arms.

"Go! Go out in the neighborhood. Sell them out there." Penelope suggested

"Aren't you worried about predators? I'm very cute." Alex said, trying to get out of having to do any actual work

"I'm not worried. Your Abuelita and y/n will be three feet behind you at all times." She said

"Come on. Why do I have to?" I groaned

Lord knows I can't handle a moody Alex, let alone a worried Lydia. Things would go down quickly, and I was not prepared to deal with it.

"I'll give you five bucks." Penelope tempted

"Suddenly this sounds fun." I said, taking the bills she held out and putting it in my pocket

"Come on. Work up a good sales pitch. It'll be so much more gratifying if you earn that PlayStation yourself." Penelope said, referring to the prize for the player who sold the most

"Ugh. This is the worst." Alex groaned, walking off

"Now there's a go getter!" I, sarcastically, commented before running after the moody boy

________________

Schneider and I were over at the Alvarez's, helping them prepare a party for Penelope's boss. Although I wasn't really helping, I was watching.

Didn't fully understand why they were throwing a party for a man they barely know. I mean cake is cake, but I still don't understand it.

"Oh, no, no, Alex. You gotta put that away." Penelope said, trying to move the boxes of chocolate Alex had set up

"You said I have to sell them. We're about to have a house full of customers." Alex argued

"Oh, you know what? They got money. Clean 'em out, papito." Penelope said, finally agreeing with the boy

"I'm going to go help Schneider bring over the centerpiece. Also, I think it needs more glitter." I said

I remembered the elaborate piece Schneider had spent all night putting together. I thought it was a hit over the top, but that's just Schneider's style. Everyone loves his style, they just don't want to admit it.

__________

Schneider and I walked in with the sparkly centerpiece. Actually, he was holding it. I'm too lazy.

"Ugh. That's the centerpiece? It's not his memorial service." Penelope laughed, looking over the mess of glitter

"You only gave me five hours and no theme." He groaned, although we both knew he'd been working on it all night

"Also, do you not see our glitter work. It's magnificent." I smiled, admiring the amounts of glitter I had dumped onto it

Someone knocked on the door, and all heads turned to face it. I watched some of the glitter fall off the centerpiece, and onto my black jeans.

"Oh, God damn it. Okay. You know what? Just...put it down." Penelope said, waving Schneider over to the table

Not wanting to be in a room full of adults, I made my way to Alex's room while Penelope prepared to let them all in.

__________

Alex dragged me out of his room, candy bars in hand. He dressed up nicely, and forced me wear one of Elena's old dresses. Safe to say, I wasn't happy in the slightest.

"Smile and look pretty." He said, using his fingers to lift up the sides of my mouth

I glared at him, slowly removing his hands from my face, and flicked him in the forehead.

"Oh, hi, Alex and little girl I don't know!" Dr. Berkowitz said, after Alex had left the hallway and enter into the main room

"Hi, I'm Alex Alvarez. Youth sports is on of the most important activities—." Alex started, restating a script he had forced himself to remember thirty minutes ago.

"Okay, Okay. Not yet, Willy Wonka. Let them sit down." Penelope said, moving her son away from bothering her guests

She turned to looked at the dress I was wearing, and a small smirk appeared on her face. I could tell she was about to make a joke about the hideous dress I was forced to wear.

"Don't." I warned, holding up a finger.

"And, Uh, where is that delightful daughter of yours?" Dr. Berkowitz asked, looking around the house for Elena

"Oh, yeah. Elena!" Penelope yelled

Elena stormed in, with her arms crossed over her chest in frustration. I had no clue what she was angry about, but it was quiet obvious it'd be smart for no one to mess with her.

"She is so excited about your party." Penelope laughed, trying to break the awkward tension

Everyone stared at her, making it obvious that her attempt hadn't worked. I set down the box Alex had given me, before slowly backing up towards his room to change out of the itchy dress.

__________

Later, we were all eating and laughing at a story Dr. B was telling. I was much more comfortable now that I was back in my normal clothes, and was actually beginning to enjoy myself.

"And then this one says, 'Doc, that's not apple juice." Dr. Berkowitz said, pointing to Penelope

We all cringed, but laughed at the older man's careless mistake.

"That is the last time I misplaced my glasses." Dr. Berkowitz laughed

"And just to be safe, I bought him a cup that says 'not urine' on it." Penelope said, continuing to make everyone at the table erupt in laugh

"So you don't drink el pee-pee." Lydia said, laughing way to hard at the story

"I don't know if it's the sangria, but I'm havin a great time." Scott, one of Penelope's coworkers, smiled

I picked up some plates, before walking into the kitchen to help with the dishes.

I was drawn back out of the kitchen, when I heard commotion coming from the room I'd just left. One of Penelope's other coworkers, Lori, had started dancing and it seemed no one could get her to stop.

"Mom, I got this." Alex said

He picked up his candy bars, heading for the obviously tipsy woman. The boy planned on using it to his advantage to make a couple sales.

"Hi, I'm Alex Alvarez. Youth sports is one of the most important activities in building character—" Alex started

"I'll buy five." The coworker interrupted, quickly pulling up her purse from the table

"Well, that was easy." I commented, looking over at Penelope who was shaking her head at the younger boy

"We can share." Lori, flirtatiously, suggested  to an uncomfortable Schneider

"Oh, that's really sweet, but I'm kinda doing a little Paleo thing right now." Schneider said, attempting to distance himself from the intoxicated woman

"It's working." She giggled, poking on his stomach

"Okay." He laughed, uncomfortably removing her hands from his torso

"This is so much fun Penelope." Dr. Berkowitz complimented with a large smile

"Well, I'm glad you're having a good time. But it's not over yet." Penelope said

Lydia walked out with a cake and sang Happy Birthday to him. We all tried to join in, but she held up a hand to stop us. She sat down very suggestively at the end of her song, and I had to hide my face in Alex's shoulder to keep from laughing.

"I want to think all of you, uh, especially Penelope, for this day. And thank you for making me feel like I belong." Dr. B said, looking around at all the people who'd gathered to celebrate him.

"Are you going to blow out the candles?" Lydia asked

"If I don't, maybe this moment will last forever." He said, making everyone smile

"Aw. But it won't. Blow them out." And impatient Lydia said

He blew them and we all cheered. Everyone was excited to taste the cake Lydia had spent a lot of time to put together.

"Mami, you forgot the knife." Penelope said

Penelope opened up the blinds separating us from the kitchen, and bent over the counter to look for the knife. While she was looking, we all noticed Carmen climbing through the window.

"There's a Walking Dead on your fire escape!" Lori screamed out loud

Penelope looked up to see the girl everyone was looking at. Carmen made eye contact with the older woman, before taking off.

"Is this part of my birthday, like a singing Grim Reaper? You guys are the best!" Dr. Berkowitz cheered

"No, that actually Elena's friend." Penelope said, glaring at the mentioned teen

"I don't get it. Why was Carmen trying to come in through the window?" Alex asked, looking around at all of us for an answer

"Yeah, that was a little, uh." Schneider said, struggling to find the right words

"Queer?" Lydia asked, gaining everyone's attention

We all stared at her, before Penelope handed Lydia the cake knife. We all watched all Penelope stormed down the hallway, headed for Elena's room

_______

"Oh, now that I've bought all this candy, I'd love to see some of your ballgames." Dr. Berkowitz said

We'd all been enjoying the cake after Penelope left, and Alex managed to sell some chocolate bars to Dr. B

"Uh, that'd be weird." Alex said walking away.

"I'm sorry, everyone. It's, uh, teenage girls, you know." Penelope said, walking back into the room where we were all gathered together

"It must be about a boy." Lori suggested, still very intoxicated

"I don't think so." Lydia said, making me raise my eyebrows

"No, I think they're both stressed about their big immigration project for school." Penelope said

"Immigration project? Why haven't they come to me?" Schneider asked, confusing everyone in the room, except for me

"Why would they go to you?" Penelope laughed

"Oh, boy. Well, there's no stopping now." Schneider sighed

"I mean you really could stop." I said, knowing what he was about to say was going to sound ridiculous to most of the people here

"I immigrated here illegally. I'm a Canadian. Shocking! I know." Schneider said, gasping as everyone in the room stared at him

"Oh, I thought you were all gonna do that." Schneider continued, noticing everyone's confused expressions

"So, you're an illegal alien?" Scoot scoffed

"Well, we prefer 'undocumented.' But yes, born in the Couve, overstayed my student visa, forced to live in the shadows of Pepperdine University. Took me a while to get rid of the accent, but now I can say 'I.. am.. sorry.. about.. that." He emphasized, showing us he'd overcome his "thick accent"

"Wow. You must have been very brave, Schneider, coming here with everything. Knowing only the entire language and struggling to unlearn the metric system." Penelope said

"I sense a liter of sarcasm." Schneider said, placing a hand delicately over his heart

"That's great, but if you wanna here a real Immigration story—" Penelope started

Lydia interrupted her and began to tell her story of immigration for the hundredth time. Don't get me wrong, it's very interesting but most of us had heard it, seemingly, everyday.

"At least you did it the right way." Scott said

"Don't ruin the night by being you." Penelope groaned

"I'm just being honest. There's a right way and a wrong way, and a lot of people are doing it the wrong way." Scott stated

"How come when people say 'I'm just being honest', something terrible always comes next? You know, it's never like, 'Hey, I'm just being honest. You look hot." Penelope ranted, glaring at her coworker

"I said that once. You got mad at me." Scott pointed out

"Because it was in the workplace. Do you understand anything?" Penelope asked

"So, I can say it now?" Scott smirked

"Technically, but don't." She warned, pointing her finger at him

"Such stimulating dinner party repartee." Dr Berkowitz said, smiling at everyone

"Anyway, what's so wrong about saying people should follow the rules? You wanna come to America, get in line." Scott said

"Oh, the one that's ten years long, full of hard working people that'll do jobs most people won't?" I asked

Everyone looked at me, shocked that I had just talked back to adult. I felt slightly embarrassed, but Alex comfortingly pat my shoulder.

"It's just the country's full up. Like a bar. It's was free before 8pm, but now you gotta pay a cover. Sorry, but we can't just take everybody." Scott said

"El bobo is right." Lydia said

"What?" Penelope asked, shocked by what her mother had just said

"Everyone should follow the rules. I did, Schneider did." Lydia said

"I did not, actually." Schneider added

"Mami, seriously? What you went through was terrible. But at least, you had a place to go, and you were welcomed with open arms. There are persecuted people all around the world who would love the opportunity to come here, but they can't. Because the rules are different for different people. So some of them break the law and they do what they have to do to fight for better lives for themselves and their families. And you know what? I get it." Penelope said

"Mom?" Elena asked walking into the room, "Can I talk to you for a second?"

Penelope nodded and followed Elena into the kitchen.

After a couple of minutes, and upset Elena and Penelope came out of the kitchen, "Hey, Everyone. We had a lot of fun, but it is a school night. And it's way past the kids bedtimes."

"Can I stay here?" I asked

Penelope nodded. I looked over at Schneider and he nodded too.

__________

Later that night, I was in Alex's room while he got ready for bed.

"That's was really cool what you said to Scott." Alex said

"Someone had to." I shrugged, "your mom would've."

"I know, but it's cool to know you support people going through that." He said, sitting next to me

I turned and tightly hugged him. I knew he wasn't going anywhere, but it's scary to know these kind of things happened to people around us. The thought of someone taking my best friend away from me was hard enough to think about. I couldn't even imagine having to go through something like that.

"Why are you hugging me." He asked, laughing

"I just want you to know, if you ever need anything or a place to stay, you can always come to me." I said, sniffing as he hugged me back

"I'm not going to go anywhere. I can't leave my best friend by herself." Alex said, making me laugh and hug him tighter.

________

[wheredidhiseyebrowsgo]

Any fics abt any pairing just abt good ol love making, romantic, candles, cheesy valentines day love making where they hold eyecontact and laugh and cuddle after

We sure do! And the tag. - Anastasia

A Million Times More by MellytheHun

(1/1 I 944 I Mature I Sterek)

Prompt: Imagine person A and person B cuddling, legs intertwined, while leaving little kisses and tracing hearts on each other’s skin.

in spite of all my fears (i see it all so clear) by artificer

(1/? I 2,228 I Teen I Alydia)

It’s possible that Lydia’s life is falling apart. In fact, with each passing day, the probability of total collapse increases exponentially.

She tells herself that she’s just paying her dues. Once she advances to candidacy, once she writes her dissertation, once she gets her doctorate, gets a job, gets tenure—everything will be better. Sure, Lydia feels terrible about just about everything just about one hundred percent of the time, but that’s fine because this misery is temporary.

It’s temporary. It has to be.

Chocolate and Werewolves by AllTheseSquaresMakeACircle

(1/1 I 3,939 I Teen I Sterek)

Derek and Stiles have been dating for six months. Their anniversary just happens to fall on Valentine’s Day. Derek, understandably, proceeds to panic.

The Taller The Tree by DeCaStDe

(1/1 I 5,091 I Explicit I Sterek)

Derek misunderstands something Stiles says in bed, and does something about it. It goes spectacularly wrong, and Stiles happily reminds Derek that he loves him whatever ridiculous things he does

Big, Loud, Crazy, Perfect by heartsdesire456

(1/1 I 5,344 I General I Sterek)

“I mean, are you sure? Cause seriously, Derek, do you have any idea how many people would wanna put up with me on a daily basis for few weeks, nonetheless longer-“

Derek cut off his babbling with a tender kiss. “Good because I’m not giving anybody else that chance.” He pulled back, looking into Stiles’s eyes. “Stiles, I’m well aware how annoying you are. How much of a jerk you can be. How seriously loud, and whiny, and bitchy, and flat out rude-“

“You know, I’m starting to rethink that question,” Stiles grumbled, glaring at him playfully.

“- and somehow even with all of that,” Derek continued, “I still want you.”

full time lovers by sasswithclass

(1/1 I 12,352 I Not Rated I Stydia)

With the end of senior year rearing its ugly head and the college applications and the inevitable graduation that would happen had caused Stiles to want to do nothing except lay on his floor staring at the ceiling while questioning his whole existence. Oh yeah, and there was the fact that he had just realized he was still incredibly in love with Lydia that recently hit him. There was that too.

*

an au of sorts where nothing bad or supernatural happens, everyone is alive, and they’re all normal teenagers who watch Parks and Rec and smoke a lot of weed

Our Kind of Nuts by ericaismeg

(1/1 I 22,553 I General I Sterek)

Stiles doesn’t know that reaching out to Erica, a girl from his Psych class, is going to change his entire life. All he wanted was a quiet place to study. Suddenly, he’s becoming best friends with Erica, getting a tutor from Boyd, going crazy over this guy who is quite passionate about Pride and Prejudice named Derek, being supportive to Lydia, finding some weird peace treaty with Jackson, and inviting Erica’s best friend to live with him, Scott, and Jackson for a bit.

He didn’t expect things to turn out like this, but hell, he’s not complaining one bit.

To Save a Life by IamHurricane

(5/5 I 31,792 I Teen I Stalia)

It’s kind of terrifying being so in love with someone who is a walking lie-detector. It often makes him feel like she holds all the cards. But he’s gotten very good at reading her. And even if she’s not much for talking out her feelings, Malia has a bundle of tells.

Wrong Until You Make It Right by mildly_obsessed

(5/5 I 77,866 I Explicit I Sterek)

Stiles hasn’t been doing so hot, but he’s trying. He even goes for a change of scenery at the suggestion of his therapist, thinking that maybe being at the beach will give him the incentive to actually go outside.

But all that work goes right down the drain when he falls down the stairs and dies the lamest of lame deaths. It gets worse when he realizes that the only person who can see and hear him is also dead… And even worse than that when his new housemate turns out to be an angry, socially inept jerkwad.

-or-

Stiles goes on vacation to get his head on straight, but ends up dead with an asshole for a ghostly housemate.

Fantastic.

Gravity’s Got Nothing on You by zosofi

(11/11 I 83,979 I Explicit I Sterek)

“Three weeks,” Derek says.

“Still don’t want to,” Stiles says.

“I’ll pay you,” Derek says, and that… that has Stiles interested. Alf’s Antique’s may be a great job, but it’s not a high-paying job, and half of Stiles’s tuition is coming from financial aid, so…

“How much,” Stiles asks, “are we talking here? Because I know your family, dude. And it’ll be kind of awkward after.“

“My family thinks you’re some sort of fucking gift to the world,” Derek seethes, like he’s jealous, “they’ll probably be pissed at me when we break it off, so don’t worry about that. Five hundred bucks.”

“A thousand,” Stiles says, because screw ethics. Also, the Hale family is loaded. Derek can deal.

[carmenlire]

Off the Record Ch. II

read chapter one

read on ao3

Alec types copy on his laptop just as the overhead announcement comes on that they’ll be landing soon. He’s needs to get this piece to The Times by the end of the day and he’s always preferred writing during flights instead of anything else.

A journalist’s work is never done, not even when they’re thirty thousand feet in the air.

A flight attendant walks passed with a pointed look at his laptop, though she doesn’t say anything. Alec knows from experience that he has five minutes until she’ll be making another round and then he really will need to pack away his computer and prepare for landing.

Taking those five minutes, Alec finishes his draft by the seat of his pants, furiously typing his conclusion just as he sees the flight attendant enter his section of the plane. Hastily shutting his computer and sliding it into his bag, he relaxes back in his seat as he turns his head to look out the window.

He’s only been gone for a few weeks but every time he comes back to The States, something settles in him. It’s home, after all, and fuck knows that Alec is out of the country as often as he’s here.

The landing is unremarkable and thankfully, his is one of the first rows that exits the plane. Perks of being in first class, he thinks wryly, and stands whenever there’s room, reaching for his bag in the overhead compartment.

Hailing a cab doesn’t take more than a few minutes and Alec barely has to think about it before he’s rattling off the address to CNN’s office. While he’d love nothing more than going directly home and crashing for the next twelve hours, he needs to swing by headquarters and get caught up on what he’s missed since he was last in the city.

It takes a grueling forty five minutes to get there as they’re stuck in rush hour traffic and Alec climbs out of the cab thankful to escape, his bag in hand. He’s immediately hit with the sun’s warmth, a little brazen for so early in spring.

Readjusting the grip on his bag, Alec strides towards the glass doors of the building, nodding at the doorman who’s worked there since before Alec was even born.

He passes a few people who welcome him back and he ends up talking shop with a research assistant for almost twenty minutes before finally making it to the bank of elevators. He’s with a handful of people, most of whom look to be interns and he gives them an easy smile whenever they catch his eye with unsubtle once-overs.

They leave on the floor before his and as Alec strides out onto one of the office floors, he’s struck with homecoming. While he loves his unit in Midtown, he’s been part of CNN for almost five years now and this building is just as much home as anywhere else.

He doesn’t run into anyone in the hallway and as he enters his office, he sets his bag down on the coffee table he passes on his way to his desk.

Collapsing into the chair, Alec boots up his computer. The sun’s all but disappeared over the horizon by the time he surfaces, having gone through the emails he’d put off until he was back in New York. While he’d worked his ass off in Norway covering the president’s summit, things always seemed to pile up if he didn’t tend to them every hour.

His stomach rumbles but he’s only vaguely aware of it. He’s much more interested in finishing the opinion piece whose deadline is fast approaching. Thankfully, the flight had been productive as hell and he’d finished the content-- now it was just time to revise.

It’s a couple of hours before he’s satisfied with the article. It’s only about a thousand words concerning the potential ramifications of the meeting overseas and the effect the president’s behavior might have on foreign alliances and while it’s a good piece, that doesn’t mean that Alec isn’t annoyed as he reads over it.

Goddamn but he missed the previous administration.

Hitting send on the email to the EIC at the New York Times, Alec stretches, cracking his neck and muttering a curse at the tension he feels bleeding into his shoulders.

Standing with a groan, Alec leaves his office, heading to the mailroom. There’s a bundle waiting for him along with a handful of ARCs that he’s been sent. He regularly receives manuscripts so that he can review them-- a line from him on the cover of a book is well sought-after, though Alec will never understand why everyone cares so damn much about his own opinion on someone else's work.

Hands full, Alec drops the shit off back at his office before taking the elevator up a few floors to the newsroom. Looking at his watch, he sees that he can catch the ten o’clock news hour and so he slips into the area, watching the night news co-hosts catch the country up on what’s new.

Lydia and Underhill are an unexpected team. They work well together, sharing little jokes that somehow make the viewer feel included. They’re two of TV’s top news personalities and thankfully, they’re also good people when they’re not in front of a camera.

Alec watches quietly, a spot of stillness behind the scenes while everyone else is working to keep things running smoothly. He ends up watching the entire hour. Jet lag is quickly catching up to him and there’s something in the familiar routine of it all that has Alec half-asleep on his feet.

He comes to attention, however, as he hears his name.

“Luckily for us, it looks like Alec Lightwood just landed today. Hopefully, he’ll be making a few guest appearances as our political analyst before he’s off to the next headline.”

Lydia chuckles as she briefly looks away from the camera, meeting Alec’s eyes with laughter in her own. “Who knows, Steve, maybe we’ll even get him to co-host the news with us sometime soon. Goodness knows our ratings always increase when he’s on air.”

Chuckling a little, Alec just shakes his head while glaring half-assed at the two of them.

They wrap up a moment later and as they push away from the table, Alec comes over to their desk.

Smiling at them both, Alec just says, “Really?”

“We couldn’t resist,” is all Underhill says back, laughing as he they shake hands.

“Yeah,” Lydia agrees. “Plus, it’s the truth. Every time your face graces our camera, we gets a ratings boost. Everyone wants their news delivered by someone who looks like he’d much rather be writing his memoir on a Parisian sidewalk than galavanting all over the world reporting on Asshole McGee, etc.”

“Whatever puts bread on the table,” Alec replies easily, even as he grimaces. While he knew covering the president was important and an honor, this particular president made that honor dubious at best and a punishment from hell on some days.

“So, what brings you here, Lightwood? I figured you’d be holed up in your apartment sleeping off your assignment.”

Alec shrugs. “I wanted to come in and catch up on work. Plus, I was on deadline for something.”

“Ah deadline,” Lydia and Underhill say at the same time. They all know how that goes.

“It’s almost midnight,” Lydia admonishes, standing and gathering up her paper. “Go home, Alec.”

“Yeah, yeah, I’m on my way out now. I just wanted to see how you two were doing and catch a few segments from New York’s best.”

Scoffing, Underhill follows the two of them toward the elevator. “Flattery will get you everywhere but I won’t forget that you owe me fifty bucks.”

Alec barks out a laugh as he pushes the button for the office floor. “You’re really going to hold me to that?”

“You bet your ass, Lightwood. You bet me fifty dollars that I wouldn’t make a move on Declan before the month was out and we just had our second date last night.”

Reaching for his wallet, Alec grumbles good naturedly. “Good to know that all it took was money for you to finally get up the courage to ask the PA out. You’ve only been pining from afar for a decade.”

Underhill rolls his eyes. “He’s only been with us eight months. To a tortoise, that’s a blink of an eye.”

Lydia laughs as she leans against the wall. “I lost that bet, too,” she says ruefully. “I thought it would take another eight months for you to even ask him for coffee sometime.”

Underhill just grins smugly at them both and when the elevator doors open a second later, he strides out ahead of Lydia and Alec, throwing out a goodnight over his shoulder.

Lydia doesn’t say anything as she follows Alec to his office. He’d left the lights on and from his vantage point, he sees the New York skyline through his windows.

He loves this city and on the thirtieth floor, the lights make everything seem like a picture, the epitome of New York elegance.

Going over to his computer, Alec skims through the half dozen emails that have accumulated in his inbox in the couple of hours he was aware and decides that everything can wait until tomorrow.

Lydia shuts the door behind her and Alec ignores it in favor of turning his computer off, reaching for his phone and checking his notifications, frowning a little as he sees a missed call from his sister.

“Everything alright?”

“Yeah,” he replies distractedly. “Izzy just called a few hours ago.”

“Maybe you should call her back,” lydia offers innocuously and Alec looks up as he locks his phone and shoves it in his pocket.

“I will when I get home.”

Rounding his desk, Alec walks toward his sitting area. It was nothing unduly fancy, just a few chairs with a long sofa behind a glass topped coffee table. It was hideously modern-- too clean for Alec’s taste-- but it was what everyone expected him to favor and he was too busy most days to remember that the couches were uncomfortable and that glass showed dust much too easily with his travel schedule.

“Alec.”

Alec pauses from where he’d been reaching for his bag, hand hanging mid air for a moment before it drops to his side.

“What.” His voice is curt, a little cool, but Alec can’t bring himself to care. He’d known when Lydia started following him what she’d wanted to discuss and just the thought of broaching this particular topic makes his teeth grind.

It’s part frustration, part anger, part a dozen other emotions that he does his best to shove down every minute of every day.

Settling into one corner of the couch, Lydia shifts a little, crossing one leg over another in a move that Alec recognizes as her power position. Lydia’s serious and she’s trying to project a calm, capable image.

“We can’t keep doing this. I can’t keep doing this.”

Alec doesn’t say anything for a moment. Instead, he sighs before running a hand through his hair. Going over to the drink cart he’d installed a few years ago, Alec turns over two tumblers and pours a splash of whiskey in each of them.

Turning back to Lydia, he hands one over on his way to a chair that sits facing one of his oldest friends.

He sits down and feels the weight he seems to constantly carry shift. It’s a blanket that grows just a bit more oppressive each day and Alec doesn’t have the time or wherewithal to do much about it except let the bitterness grow until it lingers, until it coats his throat in a layer that feels as suffocating as oil.

They stare at each other for a beat before Lydia’s the one who’s sighing and taking a sip of her drink. She hums a little, turning the glass over in her hands, preoccupied. Alec lets her have the silence, even as it stretches his nerves taut.

Finally, Lydia looks up again. She’s wearing a smile that’s apologetic but Alec sees the happiness lurking underneath.

“I met someone,” Lydia says, breaking the quiet that’s draped the room. “His name is John and I think there’s really something there.”

“That’s great, Lydia.” Alec doesn’t have to pretend to be happy for Lydia-- his friend deserves all the happiness in the world and it’s wonderful to watch as she flushes, to see the way she looks so over the moon barely mentioning the man.

“Yeah, I’m really happy.” Lydia’s voice quiets a little, smile dimming as she studies Alec. “I want to take things public, though. I don’t want to hide my relationship and Christ, I really don’t want people coming out of the woodwork to accuse me of cheating. I can just imagine those headlines-- and the slant that would make you the sympathetic cuckold and me the bitchy villain.”

Alec waves that away. “Of course. We both knew this would end some day. I can’t wait to meet the guy who makes you look like that.”

“Like what,” Lydia asks, glaring as if she already knows what Alec’s going to say. With the longevity of their friendship, she probably does.

“Like you’re a cow-eyed teenager waxing poetic about Nick Carter.”

“Well,” Lydia says primly. “He was the hottest Backstreet Boy.”

Sighing, Alec agrees. “Tell me about it.”

There’s a beat of quiet before Lydia’s uncrossing her legs, leaning over the coffee table and laying a hand on Alec’s knee.

“Are you really okay,” she asks, eyes probing.

“Of course,” Alec says softly. “How couldn’t I be when my oldest friend is head over heels for some guy?”

Lydia doesn’t say anything right away, instead squinting at Alec in a move that’s horribly familiar. Finally though, she settles back in her seat and drains the rest of her glass.

“It’s okay if you’re not, you know. We’ve been doing this so long that it almost seems sacrilege to call things off now.”

Laughing a little, Alec nods. “It’s been a convenient arrangement.”

“I don’t have to worry about any assholes coming onto me when everyone knows we’re dating and you get to keep your secret-- or at least have plausible deniability.”

“Win-win,” Alec agrees. “And let’s not forget that it was handy having a date to all those boring ass events. It’s hard as hell attending dinners and shows and whatever the fuck else we need to with company that doesn’t make one want to gouge their eyes out with the soup spoon.”

“Who knows? Maybe this is the jump start you need to find someone on your own.”

“I’m sure,” Alec says sardonically, “That while you go off on your domestic way, I’ll become a confirmed bachelor.”

Lydia frowns as though she’s upset. “Don’t act like that, Alec.”

Alec just raises a brow, sending her an arch look. “I’m sure I don’t know what you mean.”

“Yes, you do,” Lydia exclaims, exasperated. Alec’s eyes widen at the outburst. “Don’t deflect,” she demands, pointing an accusatory finger in his directions.

“You always do this. You’re thirty two, Alec, and I hate the thought of you waking up one day steeped in regret and loneliness.”

“Where are you planning on going,” he says mechanically. He winces before the words have even left his mouth, waving off Lydia’s impending tirade.

“Ignore that. So you want me to-- what? Just because you’ve found someone, that means I need to throw my career away for the first man who looks in my direction?”

“That’s not what I’m saying and you know it. Don’t twist my words.”

Alec’s voice is cool as he replies, “No, I think that’s exactly what you’re suggesting. We’ve been over this a hundred times, Lydia. Our arrangement worked perfectly because both of us were too focused on our careers to mess with dating. However, you appear to have met someone and while I’m thrilled for you, both of us know that’s just not in the cards for me.”

“It’s 2019, Alec. Surely you don’t think everything would come crashing down if you came out.”

“Maybe not,” Alec allows. “I don’t think CNN would cast me out on the streets. I don’t think I’d become a destitute has-been. I could still work in this field. But we both know that the career I’ve pursued for the past decade necessitates that I travel a good part of the year. I’m out of New York as often as I’m here and a lot of the time I’m going on dangerous assignments where my journalist credentials are the only thing standing between me and death or imprisonment.

“If it got out I was gay? I’d be lucky to go out in the field anymore and I’d be even luckier if I wasn’t thrown in jail-- or worse-- the minute I landed in some of those countries. That’s the reality, Lydia. I’d be relegated to a desk job, writing about the news instead of living it. I need to be on the front lines. I’m not willing to sacrifice my career just for the possibility that I might meet a man someday who I want to settle down with. Actually, I think it’s brazen and a little unrealistic that there’s even someone like that out there for me.”

“That’s what I thought too, you know. But John is wonderful and while I don’t have to choose between him and my career, he means a lot. I just want you to find someone one day who will make you feel like that, too. Like they're the most important person in the world.”

“I have my work and that’s enough motivation for me, don’t worry.” Alec’s voice is brisk as he smiles encouragingly.

“Whatever you say, Alec. I just don’t want you to focus so much on your career that you forget that there are other things worth living for. The job isn’t everything, no matter how much you love it or how prestigious it becomes.”

“Wise words from a fellow workaholic,” Alec notes with a sardonic look, taking a sip of his whiskey.

Lydia just shrugs. “Maybe I’m just speaking from personal experience, then. I didn’t know until I met someone.”

“Never say never. Got it,” Alec replies and the two of them laugh before Lydia sighs and stands up, laying her glass on the coffee table with a light thud.

“Speak of the devil, I have plans with my boyfriend tonight. I should get going.”

“It’s almost midnight,” Alec remarks. “What could your plans possibly be,” he asks with a raised brow.

“Get your mind out of the gutter,” she chastises. “He’s a doctor and just got off shift. We’re meeting for dinner a few blocks from the hospital.”

Standing as well, Alec swallows the last of his whiskey, wincing. “Enjoy your date, then, and I guess I’ll see you soon enough-- though not in public it seems."

“Not for awhile,” Lydia agrees. “No one needs rumours of that. We had a good run, Alec, but I’m dumping you.”

Alec throws back his head, letting his laughter ring throughout the room. He wipes an imaginary tear from his eye. “And here I thought we were going to go the distance. Just leave me and my broken heart to wallow.”

Lydia laughs softly as she takes a step toward him. Wrapping her arms around his middle, Lydia’s voice is muffled as she says, “Thanks for being so understanding. I would’ve hated it if this would’ve come between us.”

Returning the hug, Alec tightens his arms a little as he lets his chin rest on top of Lydia’s chin. “Nah,” he says easily. “We’ve been friends too long for anything to affect us. So, you’re falling for someone. It was bound to happen sometime and I’m not enough of a bastard to want anything to stand in the way of you and your happiness.”

“You’re a good friend, Alec.”

“Yeah, yeah,” he says, standing back. “Don’t let it get around that I’m not actually an asshole. I have a reputation to maintain.”

“Whatever,” Lydia replies. “You’re a giant softie and I’m not the only one who thinks so.”

Alec gasps dramatically, raising a hand to his chest in dismay. “Whatever do you mean.”

Poking him in the shoulder, his friend just offers, “People might think you’re a little cold around the edges, but everyone knows you’re a good guy deep down. The sheer amount of charity work you do speaks to that, no matter the fan accounts of running into you all over the city.”

“Lies,” Alec says, dismissive. “Lies and hearsay.”

Lydia snorts. “You’re such a dork.”

Alec grins waving Lydia off as she heads toward the door. “You know you love it.”

He hears her mutter, “God knows why,” underneath her breath before she’s striding toward her own office to call it a day.

Left alone, Alec’s office feels unnaturally quiet after the last half hour. He stands for a minute, unmoving before shaking his head and grabbing his shit.

He throws his jacket on and sweeps up his bag. Making sure that he isn’t leaving anything he’ll need until tomorrow, Alec shuts the lights off and locks his office.

At this hour, there’s just a skeleton crew in the building and Alec nods to a few people he recognizes as he makes his way downstairs.

The cab ride to his apartment is uneventful and now that things have calmed down a little, he feels exhaustion riding him hard. Unfortunately, he’s just crossed the threshold of his bedroom when he remembers that Izzy called him earlier in the evening.

With a groan, Alec takes the time to shower and change into fresh clothes before he plucks his phone from his discarded jeans and dials a number he knows from heart. Thankfully, his sister is a night owl and the phone has just started it’s second ring when he hears it pick up.

“Good evening, hermano. How are you?”

“Hey, Iz,” Alec greets warmly. “I’m doing okay, just got back to my place actually. How about you?”

“Oh, same old, same old,” she returns. “Work is fun as always even if it makes me want to tear my hair out on a regular basis. I’m sure I’ll have my first gray hair before I’m thirty at this rate.”

“But you can’t even fathom doing anything else,” Alec says knowingly.

“You’re right, of course,” Izzy sighs. “Even if I’ve taken on more of an administrative role, I still love working in the lab whenever I get the chance. But, that’s not why I’m calling.”

“No,” Alec says, tone insouciant even over the phone. “I didn’t think you’d call me just to wax rhapsodic about science. You usually keep those calls to the daytime.”

“Whatever,” his sister laughs and the sound makes something settle in Alec as he wanders out of his bedroom toward the foyer where he’d dropped his mail off earlier. He didn’t see Isabelle as often as he might like even if they did meet up at least once a week when he was in town. It was nice to talk to her, even if she was talking about things Alec didn’t really have an interest in. It was important to Izzy and that meant Alec would-- and definitely had-- listen to her talk about chemistry and whatever the shit until she was blue in the face.

“Do you have plans for tomorrow? Specifically the morning.”

“Uh, no. Not that I can think of.” Alec thinks over his schedule and while he knew that he’d be in New York for a couple of weeks at least, there was nothing pressing for the foreseeable future. Honestly, tomorrow he’d just figured that he’d have a rest day, catching up on his sleep and the latest season of a Netflix Original that he hadn’t seen yet.

“Well, you do now. We’re getting you a suit for that thing you have next week.”

Flipping through bills, bills, and a packet of coupons to Burger King, Alec just raises a brow at the stack of mail in his hand. “Oh we are, are we? Since when?”

He can almost hear Isabelle roll her eyes on the other end of the line. “Since you told me that you had that press dinner at the end of the month and you were planning on going to Brooks Brothers for an outfit.”

“I also mentioned Armani,” Alec says absently. “They’re usually my go to for important events.”

“Armani, shmarmani,” Isabelle says impatiently. “I got us a consult with a different designer.”

Intrigued Alec merely prompts, “Oh?”

“He’s only the biggest name in fashion and I’m sure he can take you from your steady eight into the twelve range at least.”

“Hey,” Alec protests mildly. “I feel like I should be insulted by that.”

“Don’t be,” Izzy says dryly. “I’m a ten and even if you do clean up well, you’re no match for me.”

Alec huffs out a laugh. “If you say so, then.”

“Anyway,” she continues lightly. “I called him up and he agreed to meet with you tomorrow at ten. So bad news if you were planning on sleeping in but I wanted to make sure that he had enough time to make your suit.”

“You’ve got me on tenterhooks. Who is this designer I’m meeting?”

“Magnus Bane,” Izzy says excitedly, like she just announced that the Prince of Sheba was going to be outfitting him.

“Who,” Alec asks, squinting into nothing as he tries to put a face to the name.

“Really, Alec?” Isabelle’s voice is exasperated, though Alec really thinks that she has no one to blame but herself if she expected Alec to have a Rolodex of designers in his head. He knew half a dozen and most of them were because they’d met. Alec knew what he liked and once he found a designer that could cater his image, he rarely strayed.

“Yes, Isabelle. Really. You know that I mainly stick to Armani or Gucci whenever I need something more formal. Who’s this Magnus Bane?”

“Only the most talented designer of our generation, hermano. He’s the youngest designer on Forbes Fortune 500 and a true visionary. He’s phenomenally talented. His runways are always exclusive as hell and people have been known to bribe other attendees to put in a good word with him so that they can receive an invitation.”

“And does that work?”

“Not really,” Isabelle admits. “Magnus is pretty strict on who he wants at his shows. He usually thinks flattery is meaningless.”

“Good for him then,” Alec says, his estimation of this Magnus raising a level or two.

“Yeah, he’s a really good guy. Very down to earth even if he does own one of the top fashion empires in the world. I’ve worked with him a few times and we’ve become friends over the years.” She takes a breath. “All of that to say that he’s been kind enough to squeeze us into his very busy schedule.”

“Why go to all the trouble? I’m perfectly fine with what I have.”

“I’m sure you are,” his sister retorts breezily. “You’re stuck in a rut, though. I think you two could be good for each other.”

Padding his way into the kitchen, Alec reaches for a glass in the cupboard before filling it with water. “What do you mean? Even if I like his design, it’s a business transaction, nothing more. I hardly think I’ll talk to Bane after I get the suit.”

“You never know,” is all Isabelle says and while her tone is cryptic as fuck, Alec just attributes it to her usual behaviour.

“Well, what time is this meeting?”

“Ten o’clock sharp.”

“Great,” he mutters. “It’s not like I haven’t slept in thirty hours or anything.”

“Great,” Izzy echoes, tone much brighter.

“Whatever you’re planning, get it out of your head,” Alec mutters.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“Whatever.” Looking at the clock, he curses as he sees it's officially after midnight. He's still running on Norway time, though, and it's early morning for him.

He's so tired his eyes burn. Jesus Christ, he thinks.

“Text me the address and I’ll meet you there in the morning. Anything else I should know?”

He hears Izzy hum over the line before she says, “No, that’s about it. Try not to look like you rolled out of bed if at all possible and be on time. Magnus hates when people are late.”

“Lucky we have that in common, then.”

“I’ll see you in the morning. If you don’t have anything after, we could get lunch?”

“Sounds like a plan,” Alec confirms. “Bye, Iz.”

“Bye, Alec.”

With that, he hangs up and drains the glass of water he’d been staring at for the past five minutes.

He all but collapses into bed. He’s almost asleep before he remembers that he needs to set an alarm and the brightness of his phone sears his retinas in the dark room. He’s sleepy and cranky for it. He needs to pass out for eight hours and has high hopes that will make him feel like a human again.

It’s like the past week has caught up with him in a rush and Alec feels like jello as he sinks into the bed. A thought keeps niggling at him, though.

With a sigh, he shifts onto his side, pulling his pillow closer until he’s half-hugging it. He’s been dating Lydia for years now. She’d been his cover since they’d graduated college and she’s been a close friend since middle school.

When they’d first been starting out, neither of them had wanted to take their eye off the prize. So, they’d made a pact to be each other’s plus ones. They were already close enough that most people who didn’t know them thought they were dating. It was nothing to ask Lydia to be his date to a dinner or accompany him to a charity gala. He's done the same for her on dozens of occasions. It was a system that worked for them.

They let other people draw their own conclusions. It suited their purposes.

Especially his.

While Alec might have discreet affairs, everything is always kept hushed. Like he’d told Lydia tonight, he’s not willing to let anything come between him and his career. He likes travelling and he’s worked damned hard to gain the clearance and clout that he’s accumulated.

It might bust his balls that he can’t be open, that he has to have plausible deniability and shut down any rumours that he might not be straight swiftly and uncategorically, but it’s his life and he long ago accepted that some things could never be meant for him.

More’s the pity.

As his breathing grows deep and his thoughts become hazy, Alec’s secure in the knowledge that he’s doing what’s best. He can’t imagine a man ever meaning as much as his career-- let alone more, what the fuck-- and he’s content with the life he’s built.

He’s one of the most famous journalists in the world and everything’s looking up with no sign of stopping.

And with that, he switches gears.

His last thought before he drifts off is about this Magnus Bane. Alec may never have heard of him but if Izzy’s singing his praises then he must be good. He only hopes that Bane will listen to him and not try to thrust his style onto Alec.

He’s humoring this designer for Izzy and because he figures why the hell not. However, wants someone who will listen to him, who won’t just take his measurements and do whatever the hell he wants.

Alec supposes everything will shake out in the morning and with that he falls asleep, ending another day that’s like any other.

[sonicrainicorn]

Made of Love, Chapter 19

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Table of Contents

Ship(s): Logicality, (platonic) Prinxiety

All Characters: Thomas, Virgil, Roman, Logan, Patton, Dr. Picani, Joan, Talyn, and Deceit

Synopsis: Humans Roman and Virgil get wrapped up in some serious magic business without meaning to. Their other companions aren’t exactly as they seem, either. Together they all must defeat a great threat for the safety of humanity.

Chapter Desc.: Logan realizes that it's a lot harder to be strong when you're faced with your worst nightmare.

TW: Cursing, implied past abuse, violence, choking/suffocating, vague mentions of self-harm

Prefer to read it on Ao3? Click here!

Okay. So maybe things got a little out of control. And maybe that was Virgil’s fault, but… yeah, he didn’t have much of a defense for that. He took it upon himself to help everyone out and considered himself responsible for them. He was the only one unaffected by Anxiety -- he needed to be the voice of reason. Sure, under normal circumstances he wouldn’t be, but who else would do it?

Tensions got a little high over the last few days. Patton and Logan argued a lot more than usual. Sometimes over things that didn’t quite need an argument. Roman tended to avoid the room when that happened. Thomas would sit in silence until it passed. Which left Virgil floundering between wanting to act and wanting to wait it out. He didn’t want them to argue so much. Especially since they were arguments that didn’t mean anything. He didn’t want them to say anything they might regret over something dumb.

He knew first hand how damaging that could be.

Nevertheless, this all led up to a rather big deal one day. It was one Virgil hoped wouldn’t ever come, but knew would happen eventually. Like all issues, if no one intervened then it would continue to fester. It was just a matter of time before the pot boiled over. And, in this scenario, Virgil was the idiot chef who let the pot get there in the first place.

Roman, Virgil, and Thomas sat in the living room while Patton and Logan argued in the kitchen. Virgil fidgeted on the couch, Thomas spared anxious glances at them from his armchair, and Roman did his best to ignore it all. But in truth, none of them could ignore it. Their voices steadily grew louder and louder until the TV became background noise. They never argued like this before.

"Just listen to me, for once!" Then a loud crash. Something shattered.

The three snapped their heads to the kitchen. They saw Patton slowly raise his hands to his mouth in shock. Logan stared at him, eyes wide and terrified. Terrified. As if Patton was capable of hurting him. He hurried out of the room. Patton didn't stop him.

Thomas unfurled himself from the armchair to make his way over to Patton. But no sooner did he open his mouth did Patton speak to him.

"Go check on Logan." His hands had yet to move from his mouth.

"Why can't you do it?" His voice was small. A genuine question rather than a complaint.

"I can't.” He closed his eyes. “He won't want to see me. Just go check on him. Please. He needs someone."

Thomas hesitated, visibly torn between two options, before doing as Patton asked.

Roman and Virgil shared a confused glance. Roman shrugged, an answer to an unspoken question between them. So Virgil stood up. The closer he got to Patton, the more his chest crushed with guilt. The more the world pushed down on his shoulders. He managed to sit down at the breakfast bar despite the weight hanging off of him.

“Should I even ask what happened?” Virgil asked in a soft voice. He didn’t think he could manage to raise it any higher.

Patton opened his eyes and dropped his hands. “I messed up. I should’ve stayed calm, but I, I couldn’t. I let my anger get the best of me. I’ve never -- I don’t know why.” He leaned over the breakfast bar.

Virgil tried to blink away the tears filling his eyes faster than he thought they could.

“I don’t get angry like that. I don’t know why I couldn’t control it.”

“I think we’ve all been feeling a little punchy since the… incident. It’s not your fault.” He wiped his eyes. “We just need to step back and take a breather.”

Patton looked at the floor. “I should clean this up.” Pieces of a broken plate were scattered along the tile.

“Did you break it?” Roman’s voice whispered from beside Virgil.

“Yes. I-I don’t know why. It was just on the counter and I was frustrated and I --” he buried his face in his hands, which pushed up his glasses. “Did you see how he looked at me? I scared him. I could feel it -- he was afraid of me. I made him afraid of me.”

Tears fell down Virgil’s cheeks in a steady stream. He hadn’t cried this hard before or felt such sorrow in his chest. It hurt. It hurt so much and the pain wasn’t even his.

“You’ve never… hit him before. Have you?” Despite the tears, Roman managed to look concerned. Maybe even a little scared himself.

“No!” Patton dropped his hands, glasses falling in place, and looked at them with wide eyes. His cheeks glistened with tears. “No, I would never.” He frowned back down at the broken plate. “But I guess it doesn’t really seem that way, does it? I promise I never have. This is the first time I’ve ever done something like this.”

“It just kinda seemed like…”

“Like he expected me to hit him?” Patton spared a glance up at them. Somehow, the weight on Virgil’s shoulders became heavier. “Maybe he did. I don’t think I stirred up any pleasant memories.”

Roman stiffened.

Virgil took note of it but decided it wouldn’t be the best time to bring it up. “I’ll help you clean up, Pat.” He didn’t leave any room for arguments.

After that, Virgil didn’t see Logan. Not until much later.

Virgil had managed to fall asleep at a reasonable time for once. He spent a good portion of the day engulfed in guilt and tears trying to calm Patton down. The crying stopped eventually but the guilt didn't go away. It was so heavy for a feeling that wasn't even his. It weighed down his chest and clung to him like an annoying bug that wouldn't go away. So yeah he was kind of exhausted.

He woke up because he needed water. Which is always the worst way to wake up. Before rolling out of bed to quench the dry desert that was his mouth, he checked the time on his phone. Two in the morning. Wonderful.

That wasn't annoying at all.

He shuffled out the door and was confused to see light. His first thought was Thomas, but even if it was him, it would be brighter. This seemed like it was coming from the TV alone. Who else would it be? Roman didn't ever leave his room at night, and Patton and Logan could barely stay up past midnight. It still had to be one of them. Unless someone broke in to watch TV for the night.

Deciding that was a slim but possible scenario to Virgil's sleepy brain, he tip-toed down the hall. It became clear soon enough that there wasn't anything to worry about. At least not in an intruder sense. Logan sat with his legs pulled onto the sofa, his glasses perched on his nose and his head resting on his knees.

"Are you watching Beetlejuice?" Virgil whispered. He didn't know why that was the one detail his brain latched on to. It was two AM and he woke up a minute ago. Don't judge him.

Logan lifted his head to look in Virgil's direction. "It happened to be on," he whispered right back. "What are you doing up?"

"I came to get water," he shuffled into the kitchen, "but now I think I might stay for Beetlejuice." He poured himself a glass of water before making his way to the armchair. He didn't miss much. Barbara and Adam just discovered The Handbook for the Recently Deceased. "I didn't think this would be the kind of movie you were into."

"I find it charming." Logan put his head back down. "The character designs are interesting and the story is unique."

Yeah, it was pretty great. Plus the music was by Danny Elfman. That always made movies twenty times better. "I used to watch this all the time when I was a kid." He stared down into the glass, swirling the water a bit. "That, and The Nightmare Before Christmas. I think I had both of them memorized at one point."

"What about Edward Scissorhands?"

Virgil almost choked on his water in an attempt to respond fast enough. "That one actually scared me -- and it was sad. So I never wanted to watch it. I've only seen it a handful of times."

Logan hummed. "It's certainly not the most pleasant story."

It wasn't the happiest, no. Rather depressing and bittersweet. Virgil set down his glass on the coffee table. "So do you often watch Tim Burton movies in the middle of the night or is this a new tradition I'm unaware of?"

"I just couldn't sleep." His eyes stayed trained on the TV. "I figured a distraction would help. Or at least force me to stay awake until I can't keep my eyes open anymore."

Ah, yes, Virgil was familiar with those tactics. "Would you rather do that alone?"

Logan somehow appeared smaller than he did before. "Not really."

Oof. That didn’t feel nice in the chest area. “Bet you five bucks I can still recite the movie.”

Logan’s eyes flicked over to him and a small smirk spread across his face. “Bet you five bucks I could actually do it.”

“Alright. You’re on, old man.”

Turned out, they could both do it. But that made things more fun. They ended up assigning themselves lines for the main characters and went back and forth on lines for the minor characters. Virgil had Lydia (obviously), Barbara, and Charles. Which left Logan with Beetlejuice, Adam, and Delia. They couldn’t get through the scene where Beetlejuice tried to marry Lydia, however. By that point, they started laughing and it was downhill from there.

They each tried to stifle their laughter, which of course, made them laugh more. Virgil had to admit that Logan’s laughter was contagious. It was light and airy and made him smile. Not that he’d admit that. He’d also never admit to being happy for getting Logan to laugh in the first place. That was no one else’s business but his own.

“Okay, that was fun, but I think I’m gonna go back to bed now,” Virgil said as the credits started to roll. He stood up and stretched.

“I think I will, too.” Logan began to search around for wherever he left the remote.

Great. “Sounds like a plan. Night, L.”

Logan froze. “What was that?”

Virgil stopped and looked back. “Uh, ‘night, L’?” He furrowed his brows. “Do you not want me to call you that?” He was too tired to decipher the weirdness going on.

Logan stared at him before seeming to remember that words needed to be spoken. “No, I-I don’t… It’s just that someone else used to call me that. A long time ago.” He shook his head. “Never mind. Feel free to call me that if you wish. Goodnight, Virgil.”

The next time Virgil woke up it was because he heard “Helena” by My Chemical Romance playing in the kitchen. Of fucking course he had to fling himself out of bed to see who was listening. He stumbled onto Patton quietly singing along while he made breakfast. Well, that was a bit unexpected.

“You listen to My Chemical Romance?” Virgil was sure he stood far enough away.

Patton stopped singing and fumbled with the fork in his hand. “No,” he rushed out. He paused the music before turning to Virgil. “How do you always manage to sneak up on me?”

Virgil shrugged. He decided to enter the kitchen since the risk of injury had passed. “Does Picani listen to My Chemical Romance, then?”

“Picani listens to everything.” Patton unlocked the phone before tossing it to Virgil. “When you live a long time it’s kind of difficult to stick to just one genre of music. There’s more of it every decade.” He turned back to mixing pancake batter.

To say that Picani’s playlists were impressive was a bit of an understatement. Each decade had its own playlist. There was such a diverse array of music that Virgil was kind of jealous that he didn’t know half as many songs. Though he noticed an odd skip in years. There were a few from the 40s but then it went straight to the 70s. No 50s or 60s music at all. “Not a fan of early rock?” If Virgil remembered correctly, some of Thomas’s favorite music was from that time period. It didn’t make sense for Picani not to have it.

“What?” Patton almost dropped the bowl this time.

“You’re missing two decades.” Virgil shook the phone for emphasis. “No Elvis? The Beatles? Johnny Cash?”

“Oh, uh,” Patton focused on the bowl, “we don’t really like listening to that music anymore. It reminds us a little too much of someone.” He paused and frowned at the bowl for a moment before smiling up at Virgil. “But we’re working on it.”

Virgil had a bit of a feeling he knew who he was referring to. To be fair, if Virgil lost his best friend, he didn’t think he’d be able to listen to their favorite kind of music either. “Well, there’s a lot of other songs here. Let’s see how many genres we can flip through.”

And if Logan walked in on them performing “This Is Gospel”, well, he was going to keep that to himself.

When everyone came in for breakfast, Virgil wished he could have said that it was all back normal. To anyone else, it would have seemed normal. But there were little things that were off -- things only the group members would be able to tell. The biggest one being that Logan and Patton weren’t sitting next to each other. It was kind of jarring. It didn’t seem as if they should be separated, yet it was a conscious decision. Logan chose to sit next to Thomas instead.

Clearly, it was something that bothered Patton because he fidgeted with everything more than usual. On the bright side, none of his own feelings spread out to anyone else. Virgil didn’t know how much more tears or guilt he could handle before going crazy.

Regardless; Thomas, Roman, and Virgil tried to carry on conversations. Neither Patton nor Logan said a word the whole time. By the time breakfast was over, they continued to not talk to each other. Or anyone. Which, of course, the other three couldn’t stand for. It was awkward and weird and somehow way too quiet.

But before anyone could do anything about it, Thomas’s phone rang. Because of course it did. It played generic default music that came with the phone.

Thomas gave it a weird look before answering. "You know texting is a thing, right?" He sighed and rolled his eyes so hard Virgil was sure he’d be able to see the inside of his skull. "Hello, Joan, how are you? It's a lovely day, thank you for calling me. It's always great to hear your voice." He shook his head with an amused smile. “What’s up?”

Everyone gathered their plates to put in the sink while Joan responded on the other end.

“Okay, uh, hang on a second.” Thomas took the phone away from his ear and put it on speaker. “So what’s going on?”

“I realize this might not be the best time, but I have a bit of a side quest for you guys. If you’re up for it.”

“I don’t appreciate the wording, but continue,” Logan responded.

“Always great to hear your positivity, Logan. Anyway, Talyn and I heard a report of someone with a magical object downtown. We don’t know who or what, but we know they’re hiding in the apartment complex off of Cyprus.”

That’s the same one where Roman lived.

"Is this a time sensitive case?" Patton asked.

"You don't have to do it right at this minute, but -- y'know -- do it. They don't seem like they're going anywhere."

"Is that really all you have?" Thomas sighed -- something closer to a whine, however.

"It was just a tip. People don't like to be descriptive when they're selling someone out."

"Fair enough."

"Good luck, guys. And don't die 'cause that would really be a bummer."

"Wow, thanks." Thomas rolled his eyes again. "Bye Joan." He hung up and turned to the others with a smile. "So we're doing a side quest?"

"I suppose so," Logan answered.

Patton hesitated. "Are you sure you should go? It could be dangerous and you don't have --"

"I can handle myself," Logan snapped, then immediately recoiled. Roman and Thomas shared an uneasy glance. He continued in a calmer voice, "I mean, I will be fine. You don't have to worry about me."

"But --"

"I think he's got it handled," Roman interjected. "And we'll all be there, won't we?"

"Yeah, everything will be fine," Thomas added.

Virgil gazed at them in confusion. It sort of seemed like they were trying to cover up something.

Patton gave them a nervous smile. "Oh, um, okay."

This was nonsense. "Alright before we get to any of that, you two have to talk to each other.” Virgil nudged Patton toward Logan. “Figure things out. If you keep acting this way something is going to go wrong. It hasn’t even been that long and I’m already exhausted by you two." He wasn’t going to stand for it. He may not have been able to prevent it, but he sure as hell was going to do damage control.

After seeing that he was serious (and that Roman and Thomas agreed) Patton decided to give in. He fidgeted with his hands like a little boy trying to approach his crush. “Uh, wanna take a walk?”

Logan studied him up and down. “Sure.”

That was the best thing to happen these last few days.

Roman, Virgil, and Thomas waited for them in the living room. In order to avoid the overwhelming anxiety crushing them, they decided to play some card games. They didn’t know what to expect. Patton reminding Logan about an awful time in his life by imitating the actions he had grown to fear wasn’t something that could be brushed off. It was serious. And as much as they loved each other, forgiveness wasn’t easy.

But it wasn’t something that Roman, Virgil, or Thomas could have an opinion on. It was between Patton and Logan. They needed to decide for themselves what to do.

After three rounds of Speed, two rounds of Bullshit, a round of Go Fish, and far too many rounds of Slapjack; Patton and Logan came back in. Thomas and Roman were a bit too busy agonizing over their loss to notice. Virgil was also a bit busy with their reactions to process their return. It wasn’t until Patton spoke up that they paid attention.

“You boys having fun?” He leaned over the back of the sofa with a soft smile. Logan stayed at his side.

“Apparently Virgil has a hidden talent he didn’t tell us about,” Roman grumbled as he collected all the cards.

“I have no idea what you mean.” Virgil handed him the box.

“He won almost every single round of Slapjack,” Thomas continued with a huff. He placed his head in his hand. “What about you guys? You doing okay?”

“We’re getting there.” He sent a small smile to Logan. There wasn’t any reason to doubt that.

~~~

They all sat in the car staring up at the apartment complex. They didn’t know for sure if there were any Figments still hanging around, so they couldn’t quite waltz in there. There was also the issue of where this person was exactly. They were somewhere inside. And that was all the information that existed.

“Anyone who works with Altair is going to know our faces.” Thomas shifted in the middle seat. “Even if there aren’t any Figments, there could still be someone else.” He frowned out the window. “How are we supposed to get inside without raising any suspicions?”

“We use someone else,” Patton answered as if it was obvious.

“What are you --?” The three in the backseat cried out in alarm upon seeing Joan in the driver’s seat. Logan didn’t appear phased at all.

Virgil put his hands on his chest. “Jesus Christ. Give us a warning before you turn into someone else.”

He smiled sheepishly. The action was so very Patton it was almost unsettling to see it on Joan’s face. “Sorry,” he responded in a perfect imitation of their voice.

“How are you able to do that?” Roman asked. As the shock passed he seemed more fascinated than anything.

“Mimicry. Well -- illusion specifically.”

Thomas leaned forward. “I thought you hated using illusion magic.”

“Oh, I do. But someone has to get inside.” He gazed out the window.

“You didn’t change your eyes.”

Patton returned his gaze back to them. It was true. They were the wrong shade of brown. “I can’t. It’s really hard to do, and I never bothered learning it. Illusion was always my brother’s thing, anyway.”

“He doesn’t have to be a perfect copy,” Logan said, voice more level than normal. “He just has to not be one of us.”

“Exactly.” Patton grinned.

Boy, magic was weird. Virgil didn’t think he’d ever understand it. “Okay, so what’re you gonna do when you get inside?”

“I’m gonna see if there’s anyone we have to worry about, and hopefully find the apartment our mystery person is in. If it’s safe I’ll come get you guys.”

“And if it’s not?” Thomas frowned.

“We’ll figure that out if we get to it.” He left the car without any further remarks.

The group waited for his return. They couldn’t do much of anything else. Thomas and Virgil started a game of Chopsticks which soon became a game of “who-could-lose-less” between Roman and Virgil. Thomas had an absurd amount of tricks for winning. Roman ended up figuring some of them out, leaving Virgil as the Ultimate Loser. Oh, how cruel fate could be.

Logan watched them with the same amusement a father would his children. It could also be that he thought they were idiots, but it was a lot cuter to think about it the other way.

When Patton returned, he slid into the driver’s seat with a sigh. His disguise melted away. “They weren’t there.”

“What?” Thomas asked. “Like they were never there? Or like they just stepped out for a minute?”

“I don’t know. The apartment was completely empty, but the landlord swears up and down that someone was living in it.” He drummed his fingers on the steering wheel. “It felt bad in there.”

“What do you mean?” Roman's brows knitted together in confusion.

“I don’t know how to explain it. It just felt… awful. Like misery. Like someone who causes misery.” He frowned. “But I swear I’ve felt that somewhere else before. I just can’t seem to remember where.” His eyes flicked over to Logan, studying him as if that would help him remember.

“If you felt something, that means they were there at some point, right?” Virgil asked. “Is there a way to know if they were there recently?”

“I guess it depends on how strong the emotion is.” He thought about it. “I think we just missed them.”

Thomas let out a puff of air. “Now what do we do?”

“Can you follow them? The emotion, I mean,” Roman inquired. “I feel like that’s a pretty specific one to latch on to.”

“It doesn’t really work like that. It’s not a trail I can follow, it’s more like --” he tried to use his hands to explain -- “like a, a thing. An aura I guess would be the right word for it. Something I can feel around people or where they have a strong attachment. I won’t be able to know where they are unless we were right there with them.”

“So what? We walk around until you can feel them?” Virgil asked somewhat sarcastically.

Patton and Logan shared a glance. Oh no.

That’s what they ended up doing. They parked the car and started their search. Without much to go off of, they sort of picked a random direction and walked. At least it was a nice day out, though not many people were around. A few people wandered by every once in a while, but not a whole lot. The farther they got from the apartment, the fewer people they saw.

They were heading down a street that wasn’t ever all that busy -- even on the best days. The little stores themselves seemed to be empty. This was more barren than normal. It was kind of off-putting. Virgil wanted to mention it, but he noticed the trio in front of him come to a halt.

Patton winced at the same time Logan and Thomas hissed in pain.

“You guys okay?” Virgil stopped in his tracks.

“Fine,” Logan muttered as he rubbed the center of his chest.

“What was that? Why did it feel -- can something feel evil? Is that a thing that can happen? That seems really cliche, I can’t believe that’s a real thing I just felt.” Thomas’s expression turned sour. He smacked his lips together. “My mouth tastes bitter.”

“That was magic.” Patton exchanged a troubled look with Logan. “Someone wants us to find them.”

“Uh, do people normally walk into foreclosed buildings like that?” Roman pointed across the street as someone slipped through the door of an abandoned store. “If not I think we might have found our person.”

Virgil sighed in defeat. “Of course it’s another abandoned place.”

Patton and Logan led the group across the street. The store, thank God, didn’t seem as old or musty as the previous places. In fact, it seemed recently abandoned. The foreclosed signs were still stuck to the windows as well as the posters for the “everything must go” sale. It must have been a clothing place before. Inside there were still racks and display shelves -- even a mannequin or two.

And, making their way around without a care, was the person they were looking for. They walked like they didn’t have anywhere better to be. Their steps were slow and random, walking about the store with the purpose of waiting for someone to come in. Heels clicked against the hard floor.

Logan pulled out his sword, making Virgil hyper-aware of the pens still resting in his pockets. “I think it might be best if you hand over what you’re hiding.”

The person stopped in their tracks and sighed. “Always straight to business,” they turned around, “aren’t you, Logan?”

Logan’s sword clattered to the floor. He took several steps back, his wide eyes never leaving the woman before them. “That… that’s not possible. You shouldn’t be here.”

From the sunlight that came in through the windows, they could make out her features clear as day. She appeared to be in her early twenties -- but that wasn't a trustworthy indication. She had straight black hair chopped off in a bob. Lips spread out into a sly smile. For such a petite woman, everything about her was sharp edges. A threatening mantle on an otherwise harmless figure. Her long gray coat did nothing to soften her up. Even her eyes seemed hard.

“Why?” Thomas glanced between Logan and the woman. “What’s wrong?”

Logan didn’t respond. He just stared.

Thomas turned to Patton. “Who is she?”

“She…” Patton visibly struggled for words. He stared at her with almost as much shock as Logan.

“Oh -- what?” The woman's expression evolved into a smirk. “You haven’t told him about little ol’ me? I figured I deserved at least that. After Picani tried to kill me.”

“W-what?” Thomas stared at her in disbelief.

“He wasn’t very good at it, obviously.” She stepped closer. “You decided to just leave me for Altair instead. But you know what? Instead of killing me he offered me something I couldn’t refuse.” Her smirk widened. “A chance to get back at the two of you.”

That caused Patton to snap out of his surprise. “Don’t act like a victim. You know what you did.”

Virgil pulled Thomas behind him. He had a bad feeling that something was about to start up.

The woman let out a gentle gasp and placed a hand on her chest. “But did that elicit such a harsh punishment? Tied up and left for a horrendous death?”

Patton continued to glare at her.

She dropped her offended act. “Fine. I’m not here for you, anyway.” Her gaze turned over to Logan, who still stared at her with wide eyes. “Somehow, everything always comes back to you, doesn’t it? Guess you’re just that irresistible.” She held out her hand toward him. “Do I have your permission?” A sly grin spread across her face with a sick amusement for something that only she seemed to get a kick out of.

Logan didn’t say anything.

“No, you don’t,” Patton snapped. He stood in front of Logan protectively. “You’re not getting anywhere near him.”

The woman pouted. “You gave him up so easily last time. Why is this so different?”

“I learned not to trust you.”

She tsked. “Shame. I thought we could do this the easy way. Ah, well, a job is a job.” She lifted her hand and a ghostly echo of an arm stretched out from under her feet. At the end was a hand with long slender fingers -- a claw more like. With every movement her hand made, the claw followed. It pushed Patton to the side and grabbed Logan, dragging him toward her.

Patton growled, almost animalistic in nature, and a thick column of weeds broke through the concrete floor. It severed the arm in half which caused it to fade out of existence.

Once Logan was free, he sprinted back toward the group. Patton tried to meet him halfway. But two claws halted their progress. One stopped Patton from getting any further while the other pulled Logan back until he stumbled to the woman’s side.

“Can’t have you two getting together.” She wagged her finger. “I remember what happened last time.”

The group felt a flare of anger. “Arlene, I swear --”

“Swear to what? Last time I checked, you didn’t believe in much of anything anymore.” She stared him down, challenging him to start something. “So if you’ll excuse me, I have a job to complete.” She seized Logan’s arm.

And Logan sort of locked up. He didn’t make any attempt to free himself. An automatic panic response to something he probably never wanted to happen again.

A few of the weeds broke loose of the column and shot out toward Arlene. They tore her away from Logan, keeping her pinned down as far away as possible. Logan remained frozen.

“Logan.” Patton ran over to him. “C’mon, we gotta go.” He didn't get to do anything before a claw swatted him back.

Virgil grabbed Roman and Thomas’s wrists and pulled them behind a display shelf. Patton and Arlene were going to play keep-away with Logan at the center. “We have to get Logan out of here,” Virgil said in a low voice. “Those two are going to tear each other apart before they let the other get him.”

“Then what?” Roman wasn’t as crouched down as Thomas and Virgil were. Enough to be hidden, but not totally on the floor.

So having to look up at his worried face was more than Virgil could handle. “Then we run like hell.”

Roman let out a steady stream of air through his mouth. Thomas didn’t say much of anything, but Virgil had a feeling he wouldn’t oppose. They didn't have a lot of options. This was a new kind of threat.

“Oh, there you are.”

The three yelped. They turned to see Arlene edging around the shelves with a wide grin.

“I was wondering where you boys ran off to. It was looking pretty empty.” She lifted her hand, a menacing claw rose with it. Before she could strike, Roman shot up, swinging his katana straight through the claw. They stared at each other in bewilderment. As if neither side could believe that Roman did, in fact, do what he did. Hell, even Virgil was shocked. Impressed, but shocked.

Which meant Thomas had enough time to squeeze by Arlene. He grabbed Logan’s hand and sprinted away.

Arlene scowled. She turned to go after them but Roman stuck his katana in front of her. Virgil stood up, slipping his pens out of his pockets. Arlene scowled further.

Thomas ran to the back section of the store. He pulled Logan out of sight. They stood in a little hallway connecting the two back sections, which couldn’t be seen from the front. That would give them a little time. He hoped. They just needed to figure out an escape route. As far as he could see, there weren’t any other doors than the main entrance. But first thing’s first.

“Are you okay?”

“I’m, I’m fine.” Logan held onto his arms with his fingers digging into his sleeves. “I’m fine.”

That wasn’t very believable. He didn’t look fine at all. It looked like he was ready to break apart at any second. “I have to get you out of here.”

“B-but Patton.”

“Patton will be fine.” He winced when he heard a loud crash from the other room. “Roman and Virgil are with him. We can’t let Arlene get you.”

“I… I don’t want her to.” Logan tightened his grip. “I can’t be with her again.”

Thomas paused, mind processing the absolute fear in Logan’s words, before settling into a resolved composure. “Then let’s get out of here.”

Virgil was going to lose it. He didn’t know if it was Patton’s anger or his own, but he was starting to get really pissed off with this Arlene lady. She wouldn't let up! She had magic that Virgil had yet to see before. It was different. A horrible different. An annoying different.

He and Roman were trapped underneath bent wood. When they broke the shelves, Arlene moved them to make a cage. She separated them from each other, as well. So they couldn’t do much to help the other break out. They were small, cramped spaces. And Virgil wasn't going to stay in there any longer than he had to.

“Why are you doing this now?” Patton shook out his hands. Arlene pulled weeds out of them, creating the equivalent to rope burns. “If all you wanted was ‘revenge’ then why wait?”

“Sometimes you just have to wait for the right moment.” The weeds shriveled up and died in her hand. “Wouldn’t you say that now would be the right moment?” They crumbled into ash, falling to the floor when she opened her palm. She stalked toward Patton. “Picani is gone. Logan is defenseless. And you can’t do anything about it. Without Picani… you’re useless. Aren’t you?”

Patton scowled at her. The air became tense -- almost suffocating. Pure hatred. Unabashed loathing filled the room. A feeling so genuine it wouldn’t be possible to understand unless someone felt it them-self. Then, in a seamless flow of anger, Patton swung at her. No magic this time.

Arlene had no choice but to stumble back. She almost looked surprised. Maybe a bit impressed. But that quickly changed to hatred. Annoyance. Like trying to kill a bug that won’t stay still. She responded to Patton’s actions aptly. Though with every move it became clear that she was nowhere near Patton’s skill set. She wasn’t even near Logan’s.

She didn’t create her own actions. She copied. She didn’t move unless Patton moved first. Unsure. Messy. The type of movements found in people who are out of their comfort zone. And this seemed far, far away from her comfort zone. Virgil could see her start to panic. She needed to do something else. Bring this fight back to where she could win.

“Cesso drahen,” Arlene hissed, venom in every syllable.

Patton stopped. His hands made their way to his chest and throat as he choked. He gasped, eyes going wide as the realization kicked in. He couldn’t breathe. He fell to his knees and heaved -- struggling to get any kind of air.

“Well, that takes care of that, doesn’t it?” Arlene adjusted her coat. “Should’ve done that ninety years ago.”

She turned around and Virgil swung at her as Right had instructed. He managed to slice a small portion of her cheek. As she stepped back, she stared at him in offense more than anything. But instead of blood, as was to be expected, black liquid creeped out. Then the skin around the cut transformed into smoky clouds. It covered the injured area before fading back into her skin. The cut was gone. What the hell…?

Then it clicked.

Virgil took a sharp intake, eyes widening. “You’re a --”

Arlene spat out, “Intercludo ritan,” and Virgil couldn’t move. His whole body became frozen. She put a finger up to her smirking lips. “Let’s keep that between us, shall we?”

Oh, fuck no. She wasn’t real! He had to tell the others. Yet no matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t do anything. He was stuck in this position. It was like every muscle in his body tensed up and he didn’t have the ability to relax them.

“I think I see why they’d want to keep you around.” Arlene gazed at him with mild interest. “You’re a lot like her. You have that same light in your eyes -- the same kind of determination. You’re one and the same.”

“Virgil!” Roman sprinted over. He hovered between Virgil and Arlene as if he didn't know which he wanted to go after more.

“Oh, they have the other one, too.” Arlene glanced between them with a knowing smirk. “The complete set. I guess that means soulmates are real.”

Roman gave her a weird look. “What are you --?” He stopped abruptly when she put a finger to his lips.

She repeated the same words she used on Virgil. She dropped her hand. “Don’t worry, it’ll wear off in a couple hours.” She spared a glance around the room before backing away from them. “You boys stay right where you are. I have a kid to get rid of and a boyfriend to steal.”

No one could stop her from leaving.

Thomas’s head peeked out from behind one of the shelves. He was always told that spoken spells were the strongest magic. He just never realized how accurate it was. He had never felt magic like that before. In fact, he was never able to feel magic at all. Unless it was your own, it was almost undetectable. But this was… ugly.

He felt a pull in him to help them. What could he do? He didn’t have magic and neither did Logan. The one person that did was suffocating in the middle of the floor. There had to be something he could do. He turned to Logan and found him staring hard at the wall with his fingernails digging into his palm. It didn’t seem as if he was completely in the moment. He needed to get out of here.

Thomas grabbed his hand and tugged him toward the exit. There was only so much time before Arlene came back out to look for them. They needed to be gone before then. They crept along as silently as they could, careful to hide behind anything useful.

Then Thomas felt Logan's hand ripped from his own. An icy feeling spread throughout his chest. He spun around to see Arlene there. Logan had his back pressed against the wall from the floor with a claw keeping him in place. They shared a horrified glance.

"Where are you going, sweetie?" She took a step toward Thomas, making him scramble to stand up. "Don't you know it's rude to sneak away like that?" She continued walking toward him.

Thomas took a step back for every step she took forward. He didn't know what to do. She wasn't going to go easy on him. He stepped on debris that caused his foot to roll forward and the rest of him to fall to the ground. He continued to clamber back until he hit something solid.

Arlene stood over him. Like a cat who finally caught the mouse.

"Thomas!" Logan tried to wriggle out from the claw but to no avail.

"Oh, you're Thomas. I've heard so much about you." Arlene smirked down at him and tapped his nose. "You're the runt of the litter, aren't you?"

Thomas kicked her square in the chest. She stumbled back enough for him to get away. He dove straight for Logan's sword still discarded on the floor.

When he held it up, Arlene laughed. "Be careful, little boy. You might hurt yourself with that." Her full attention was on him now, but she still held out her arm to keep Logan in place. "Do you even know how to use it?"

Thomas's hands were trembling. He couldn't hold it steady. He had seen people hold and fight with swords before. He saw Roman practice. He used to watch his father do the same. He saw Logan more times than anyone else. But he himself had never even held one before. No one considered he would need to.

"Why don't we give you some practice?" She lifted her other hand and a claw showed up, ready to strike. "If you can survive this then I'm sure you'll be able to get to me."

Thomas held his breath.

"Wait!" Logan shouted before Arlene could move. "Leave him alone. You just want me, don't you? Isn't that all you're here for?"

Arlene continued to keep the claw raised. "Of course."

"So just take me. Make your job easier and leave with me right now."

Thomas's heart dropped. "Logan --"

"Shh. The adults are talking." Arlene held a finger up. The claw did the same.

Logan didn't look anywhere but at Arlene. "Leave them alone and you can have me. I won't fight you on it. I'm sure Altair would be glad to have this over and done with. The sooner he has elemental magic, the better, right?"

Arlene didn't say anything for a moment. Her eyes had yet to leave Thomas. Then, the claw that had been all too eager to strike, disappeared. Faded out of existence. She snapped and Thomas could practically feel the evil magic disappear from the room. Patton swallowed gulps of air he was now allowed to have. Roman and Virgil fell to the floor at the sudden ability to use their legs again.

"You drive such easy bargains, Logan." Arlene turned and walked back to him. "You're always so willing to throw yourself away if it means saving someone else. If I knew you hadn't changed, this would have made things much easier."

Roman and Virgil struggled to rise to their feet, the magic made their limbs jelly. Patton could barely breathe enough to do anything. Not that it stopped him.

“Logan,” he wheezed out. “Don’t --”

Thomas tightened his grip on the sword.

“I’m afraid it’s too late for that, Pattycake.” The claw around Logan faded. She grabbed his arm and pulled him to his feet. “He’s already made up his mind. And he chose me again. Isn’t that --?” She choked on her next words. It might have been a bit hard to continue with a sword in her back. “The little runt has some guts, doesn’t he?” Then she erupted into smoke like every other Figment they had ever seen before. Thomas was able to see Logan stare at him in disbelief.

“She wasn’t real,” Logan whispered.

Thomas didn’t respond. He didn’t know how. He lowered the sword and took a step back for Patton to stumble through. He hesitated before deciding to go check on the two on the floor.

He helped them both up, though they still seemed unsteady.

"Nice save," Roman commented.

Thomas twisted the pommel. He never knew there was a bit of a kick to it as the sword retracted.

"You okay?" Virgil must have seen the look on his face. He was always so concerned about him.

"Yeah, I'm fine." He stared down at the pommel. Logan had been using it for years. It was his first and only sword. Thomas didn't think he'd ever seen anyone else use it before.

"Are you, really?"

"I mean," he looked up. They both stared at him in concern, "I -- I've never had to do that before. I didn’t really want to." He averted his eyes. “I was… I was just scared and mad and -- I don’t know.” He added, almost as an afterthought under his breath, “I didn’t wanna lose anyone else.”

“Thomas,” Virgil put a hand on his shoulder, “she wasn’t real. I know that probably doesn’t make this any easier, but you didn’t kill her. She was already dead. Acting in the heat of the moment doesn’t make you bad. No one’s upset with you here.”

“And think about it,” Roman continued. “Would Arlene really stop any other way? She was pretty willing to take all of us out. I don’t think talking would have gotten us anywhere. You weren’t left with much of a choice.”

Thomas didn’t know what to think. “I guess.”

“Hey,” Virgil squeezed his shoulder, “he’s right. Sure, it’s a bit extreme, but nothing else worked. Sometimes doing the right thing isn’t easy.”

“But how do I know if it was the right thing?”

“We’re all here. We’re all alive.” Roman gave him a gentle smile. “I’d count that as the right thing.”

Thomas couldn’t help but smile back.

Their moment was cut short when they heard the commotion going on with Patton and Logan. Logan was holding onto his arms like a life-line and overall seemed quite frantic. Patton appeared to be trying to calm him down with little success. The three gave each other a look before deciding to approach.

“She’s gone now,” Patton said. “She won’t hurt us again -- she won’t hurt you again.”

“That’s not the point,” Logan exploded. Everyone stared at him in shock. “She acted real. She had all her memories. All of her magic. Altair was able to make an exact replica of her.” He dug his fingers into his arms. “What if he does it again? How can we trust anyone that we meet?”

The other members were stunned into silence.

“I -- I can’t --” Logan’s breathing became erratic. “Patton.” He fell against Patton’s chest.

Patton wrapped his arms around him. “I’m right here. I’m not going anywhere.” He shut his eyes tight.

A warm, soft feeling covered the area like a blanket. And much like a blanket, it was comforting. It was safe. There wasn’t anything to be afraid of as long as it was there. Well… as long as Patton was there. It was fake. Underneath every blanket is a person. And underneath the security was fear. There was panic and uncertainty. If they prodded enough, they’d be able to find it. But no one wanted to. They curled further in the blanket because it was better than being exposed to the cold.

(Next)

[vendettacanons]

Name Meme -> Buck, from Lydia || @maximuses

⚔️ Muse Opinions Meme // CLOSED ⚔️

⚔️ @maximuses ⚔️

“Ooh, I get to talk about Buck for a bit! How exciting! There’s so much I could say about him, and you know it too. Buuuut, I guess— for the sake of courtesy— I’ll try to keep to the questions and avoid rambling too much.”

“Most admirable quality: Admirable quality, huh? I say Buck has quite a few. And you know exactly what I mean by that. I’m sure the locals probably don’t agree with me— they did nickname him the Sadist after all. They just don’t appreciate his many talents in bed like I do. Buuuut I’ll spare you the nasty details and go for something a little less... acknowledged. It’s a shame too; his mind. Buck is fucking brilliant. His little history tangents? They’re adorable! He gets so into them, loves explaining every little thing, every little detail. I’ve never been much for history myself— academics in general weren’t my strong point. But I love entertaining his little rambles on everything. I ask a lot of questions because I’ll be honest, I’m dumb as a rock, but it doesn’t seem to matter. He loves answering them! I love his enthusiasm and his passion for history! He makes it fun with how animated he is! Shame about his ‘aggressive tendencies’, shall we say. He’d make a great history teacher.”

“Most attractive physical feature: There’s a lot Buck has going on in terms of being attractive physically. Of course, I’m biased— I love tattoos and facial hair like his a lot. So needless to say, I took one look at the ten-pointer on his chest and that scruffy beard and I was in love. Not to mention he’s got a bit of muscle on those bones so... but hmm. As far as most attractive goes, I would say... his eyes. Between you and me, I think I know why his folks named him Bambi. It’s those gorgeous, brilliantly blue eyes of his. When he’s focused on something they get so wide and lovable, you could just get lost in them. Not to mention on the off chance you manage to catch him off guard they go all wide and give him a full ‘deer in headlights’ kind of look.”

“Most annoying habit: Oh yeah, I knew this was coming at some point. Loving someone is like living on the Rook Islands— paradise has its ups but it most certainly has its downs as well. Sorry to say, Buck isn’t an exception. Not that I walked into this expecting him to be. Hell, I wasn’t expecting to walk into a relationship at all, much less with him, but I’m glad I did. And frankly, his flaws are tolerable compared to most others.

Buck is laid back. Like... really laid back. And that’s fine— I like a guy who can take a joke and know that life isn’t all about work, it’s meant to be lived. But like, with Buck, it’s extreme. It’s not just the typical “no worries” type of attitude. It borders on procrastination, I guess is the word. Or Sloth— God I don’t even know how to describe it but like... He’ll see things and be aware of situations. He’s alert and he’s observant but he’s just... lazy, in a sense. He won’t take anything seriously, especially if it’s meant to be serious. He just sort of rolls his eyes and waits for it to become trouble. Like he’ll know there’s something wrong and something that he should probably get involved in, but he just won’t. He’ll know there’s a problem but he will put off addressing it until it poses an immediate danger.

It’s like if you had a leak in your house, Buck would just put a bucket down and let it fill, and then overflow, and say it’s okay and do nothing until the roof is literally caving in and about to give in from the stress. Or if you had like a candle knock over and burn up a table, he wouldn’t do anything about it, just kind of sit there while the house catches on fire like ‘this is fine’, until someone gets burned. Then- Then he starts trying to put it out. I don’t know if he’s like this naturally or if living on the islands made him like this— even with his work he tends to have this like ‘it’s not my problem until it starts affecting me’ attitude. And usually it’s not an actual problem. He’s still relatively attentive if I need something or if something has to change immediately for the sake of safety, he doesn’t put off that kind of stuff... but... it’s definitely caused us a scare once before... Granted he straightened up a bit after it and promised it wouldn’t happen again but... I’ll be honest, I haven’t seen much change. It worries me.”

Something they would like to do with them: I think a better question would be what wouldn’t I like to do with him? I mean granted, I think we’ve tried just about everything under the sun and— oh wait, we’re still keeping it safe for work, aren’t we? Uhh, hmmm... well I have to admit, it’s been amazing spending these last few months with him on the Rook Islands. Sitting on the beaches sipping beers together, kissing in the sunset— among other things. Going gliding and swimming in the waters, laying in hammocks together and napping in the sun. It’s been great letting him lead me around the island and finding all sort of beautiful spots to sit and spending the days together talking about ourselves. We even tried dancing at some point but uh... well, I’d chalk it up to uneven ground sending us tumbling, but the truth is, I don’t think either of us actually knows how to dance. Hey, at least we got a good laugh out of it.

But you know— if you spend a long enough time anywhere things get... boring. You do all there is to do, see all there is to see— plus, Rook isn’t exactly ideal for me. Too many mosquitos and hostile animals to really wanna stay here long-term. For someone like Buck, it’s just another place like home. He’s comfortable here. I don’t blame him, he’s the adaptable type. Still, I think I’d like to travel with him. See the world, explore new places, maybe even settle somewhere perfect for both of us. I wanna take him with me, have him there when I write new chapters of my life. Chapters with him in them. Pfft— I don’t think I could actually convince him to actually go along with my idea but hey, a girl can dream, can’t she? I don’t have the leisure of seeing him whenever I want, so I’ll make the most of the time I do have with him now, on these short combination business trips and vacations.”

[woodsbane]

Have you been apart of the sterek fandom forever? Do you want some nostalgia? Well here are some fics that if you’ve been around you have probably read over and over, and here they are again. AKA the sterek fic rec thats been a long time coming. If you’re relatively new, I suggest these as they have kind of been the top sterek fics since the relationship began. Enjoy!

 Fireman Derek’s Crazy Pie (Cheeseburger Baby) 17,698 | Teen and Up

“He can't blame me for the fact that I live in a building full of people united in the singular effort to ogle Hot Fireman as often as humanly possible."

Laura laughs, loud and echoing in the empty restaurant.

"Hot firemen can make a girl do crazy things," she agrees, nodding towards her brother's name on the menu. "Derek won't let me date anyone from his company, but that doesn't mean I can't appreciate the eye candy."

"Send them my way," Stiles suggests, finally loading up a forkful of pie. 

"Apparently I'm incompetent enough that I need to be babysat at all times, because it would be cheaper than dispatching a truck every time I try to use a kitchen appliance."

 According to Plans  72,744 | E 

Five times Stiles and Derek pretend to be boyfriends, and the one time they didn't have to pretend at all. (Or: in which Stiles' plan for senior year is completely ruined by a supernatural creature stalking him.)

By Any Other Name 33,090 | E

He doesn't know his name, he doesn't know who he is, and neither does the werewolf he's on the run with. But he's pretty sure they hunt monsters, because they seem to be really good at it.

Moonwalkers  531,781 | E

Stiles had his entire Seven Years of Hogwarts all planned out:

Prank and Prank Hard. Woo Lydia Martin. Avoid detention and Potions at all cost. Have crazy fun.

Enter brooding werewolf to send this plan to the bottom of the Black Lake.

(Sacred) In the Ordinary  (THIS IS MY PERSONAL FAVORITE) 78,759 | E

The Pack, after college, graduate school and the starting of careers, comes back to Beacon Hills. Nothing's gotten less complicated after all this time. Based on a kink meme prompt that grew legs and got serious. Note: This is a whole lot of pack!fic with a very slow build Derek/Stiles.

 There’s Monsters at Home  83,575 | E

“How did you get past the wards?” Derek had put them up, with Peter’s grudging assistance, after the Alpha pack had made themselves at home a few times too many.

The guy pulled a face. “You mean the wards a five-year-old girl with the mental ability of a goldfish could deconstruct?” He blinked wide eyes at Derek. “Gee, I don’t know. It’s bound to go down as one of life’s great mysteries.”

Derek despised him.

 Hide of A Life War  26,102 | E

“We have received confirmation that there is a hostage situation in progress at a warehouse compound two hours out of Los Angeles, following a multiple-vehicle pileup on Highway 101 this morning...”

The one in which Stiles has lived to (legal) adulthood and, along the way, become a bit of a badass himself.

 Baking My Way Into Your Heart  178,630 | M

Derek is an uptight college student, all work and no play. His carefully scheduled life is thrown kilter when his regular barista is replaced with someone new. 

 Living With Lycanthropy 44,905 | E

AKA: The Sterek Rival Bakeries AU

Wherein they both own bakeries, Stiles tries not to run his grandmother's legacy into the ground, Laura wants to be a better alpha, and Derek can't seem to get Stiles' attention the regular way - so naturally, he accidentally initiates a prank war.

(Or, if Teen Wolf was more like Gilmore Girls, with everyone far too invested in whether the Hale boy and the Sheriff's kid will work it out, and Laura Hale wrote a handbook for alpha werewolves.)

Pack Dynamic for Dummies 36,682 | Teen

Stiles isn't sure how a Pack is supposed to work, but he's pretty sure that this this disorganized jumble of people and events doesn't quite qualify. He has to hand it to Derek though, he keeps trying. And Stiles has never been one to stand quietly on the sidelines.

Gravity’s Got Nothing on You  83,979 | E

“Three weeks,” Derek says.

“Still don’t want to,” Stiles says.

“I’ll pay you,” Derek says, and that… that has Stiles interested. Alf’s Antique’s may be a great job, but it’s not a high-paying job, and half of Stiles’s tuition is coming from financial aid, so…

“How much,” Stiles asks, “are we talking here? Because I know your family, dude. And it’ll be kind of awkward after.“

“My family thinks you’re some sort of fucking gift to the world,” Derek seethes, like he’s jealous, “they’ll probably be pissed at me when we break it off, so don’t worry about that. Five hundred bucks.”

“A thousand,” Stiles says, because screw ethics. Also, the Hale family is loaded. Derek can deal.

There is a brotherhood 21,004 | E

So far, college has taught Stiles three things:

1) Eight am classes are cruel and unusual and should be avoided at all costs, even if it means having to enroll in something truly hideous instead, like Econ 101.

2) Dorm security is just as tight as Stiles’ orientation leader had promised it would be, and the dude guarding Scott’s dorm in particular does not respond well to bribes.

3) Mrs. McCall clearly had no clue what she was talking about when she’d insisted that Scott and Stiles needed to branch out and room with strangers, so it’s all her fault that Scott ended up with a total dick of a roommate and Stiles got stuck all the way across campus with some guy who has a girlfriend two towns over and is thus never around.

Or, the one where pledge brothers Stiles and Scott start a prank war with Derek Hale's fraternity.

 Hope is the thing with feathers 28,959 | Teen and up 

Stiles is ten when he saves the Hales from their burning home and Derek from a wolfsbane bullet, and this establishes a pattern that seem to continue indefinitely.

"Then he's facing a burning home, and he wraps the hood of his sweatshirt around his mouth before he pushes the door open and steps inside. There's Mr. Hale asleep - he hopes asleep - on the couch, next to - Stiles thinks that's his brother but there are so many Hales, who can keep track. He rushes over and starts shaking him, can see the rise and fall of the man's chest so he knows he's alive, but he's not waking up. He shoves away his hood so he can shout, "Mr. Hale! You have to get up, there's a fire! Mr. Hale, get up!" Nothing, he's not even twitching, both of them taking in deep even breaths like they're having the most peaceful of rests, and Stiles is going to cry. "Wake up, wake up, wake up!" There's a moment, where all Stiles can hear is the blood rushing in his ears and not the roar of the flames or the creak of wood, then with a violent, silent pop it's all back and both of the men are gasping awake, eyes open and jumping to their feet. "

 Lead You Home Again 49,962 | E

The first time Derek meets Stiles, the kid’s brown eyes are wide, and he’s staring up at him with a mischievous grin as he tugs at the arm of Derek’s first ever Batman figure like he’s trying to separate it from Batman’s body.

An alternate take on Teen Wolf, wherein Stiles and Derek are childhood friends, and things unfold from there.

 Fire Burn and Cauldron Bubble 13,363 | Teen and up

When potions prodigy Stiles blows up one cauldron too many during one of his ‘experiments’, he gets assigned to making Wolfsbane Potion for the new groundskeeper. Which wouldn’t be so bad if the guy wasn’t you know, terrifying.

This is Ridiculous 35, 818 | E

There's a unicorn in Beacon Hills. A fricken' unicorn. In fricken' Beacon Hills, California. And it turns out that unicorns aren't drawn towards virgins in a happy-go-lucky let-me-lay-my-not-at-all-metaphorical-horn-in-your-lap way. No. They kill them. And guess who's the only virgin idiotic enough to get sucked into the Beacon Hills supernatural scene? Stiles, that's who.

 Mating Habits of the Domesticated Werewolf 35,458 | M

Derek doesn’t do pining. He doesn’t. So when it becomes clear that Stiles is much more interested in having Derek as a new best friend than a boyfriend, he puts on his big boy pants and makes it fucking work. He becomes the best goddamn friend a spastic teenager could ever hope to have.

 Wayward and Down  32,331 | E

Pack is family. Family is everything.

This is Stiles' senior year, and it's nothing he could have imagined.

or

That time it took not one, but two separate troll attacks and a malevolent coven of witches for Stiles to figure out how he felt about Derek.

Tremble  58,990 | E

Stiles may be cursed but that doesn’t mean he’s going to lay down and die. He’s going to fight. He won’t stop, he can’t stop. If he does, they win.

Permanent Fixture 80,777 | E

Derek is Scott's older brother. Stiles is Scott's best friend. Derek is falling in love with Stiles. This is a bit of a problem.

Bogarted 3,126 | M

Alternate Title: "Dick Failwolf, Private Eye."

(Or, Derek's hit with a Film Noir curse, which forces him to narrate his own life in luridly-detailed prose.)

DILF  30,871 | E

"Today is Scott's first day of kindergarten and Derek is terrified."

 A Thousand Fiery Suns of Angst- Just Press Play 20,934 | Teen and Up

All Stiles wants from life is to learn to control his magic, keep his grades up, and not die horribly while saving Beacon Hills from supernatural threats. It's all going pretty well until Derek Hale, werewolf extraordinaire, has to go and ask him on a date. That asshole.

 Stilinski’s Home For Wayward Werewolves 35,197 | Teen and Up

“At least your puppies knock first,” Stiles snorts. “Here I thought their alpha raised them to be well-mannered.” 

“There’s a sign,” Derek responds stiffly. 

Stiles, whose curiosity outweighs even his hardest of grudges, abandons his chilly façade of nonchalance in a heartbeat. He jumps right up and all but pushes Derek out of the way in his effort to get to the window, and sure enough when he leans outside there’s a laminated strip of cardstock duct taped to the vinyl siding: 

DON’T FORGET TO KNOCK Stiles gets cranky when we scare him

---

Or, in which Stiles Stilinski moves to Beacon Hills for his junior year of high school and accidentally adopts a pack of teenage werewolves.

I Can’t Get Enough (Of You)  10,480 | Teen and Up

Fact: Derek Hale hates Potions.

There are a number of reasons why this is so. For one thing, Potions is really not Derek's strong point. (There's a reason he's banned from using the kitchen at home.) For another, the Potions classroom is dank and dim and spending more than an hour down there at a time makes Derek’s skin crawl.

And then there’s Stiles Stilinski.

He doesn’t need an explanation.

The Socioeconomic Repercussions of Mutually Assured Destruction 15,285 | E

"The trouble with having the kind of brain that likes to write essays on male circumcision for an Economics class, is that it also likes to turn PowerPoint presentations for Biology into odes on the perfection of notorious bad boy Derek Hale’s backside."

 Linski’s Late Night Antidote to Lame 13,865 | Teen and Up

Where Stiles has his own college radio show, and the mysterious, faceless Derek is his number one fan.

Also there's this really hot guy he keeps meeting in the library who totally hates his guts.

28. Every Step You Take 49,347 | M

Stiles accidentally ends up magically bound to Derek. It’s super.

We’ve Written in Volumes (In Blood and Scars and Ink) 25,935 | E

Stiles is on his back on hard-packed dirt. He's cold and there are leaves stuck to his neck and there's a four inch gash in his side that he thinks he can feel his ribs through. There's so much blood around him he feels like he's floating on a pond and everything is so much dimmer above him than it was a minute ago, which is saying something because he's in the dark center of the forest in the middle of the night. And the worst of it is that he's alone, totally alone with the smell of his own blood drowning him and the soft side of him run through by a tree.

As his eyes slip shut, the last thing he thinks is, "This is going to kill my dad."

Electricity in the Contact 27,067 | E

In which Derek has been invited to the Greater Pacific Northwest Alpha Symposium (that's not what it's called, Stiles, stop saying that), and showing up unattached would mean an arranged marriage. When the rest of the pack objects, he agrees to let Stiles come along to pose as his mate. Derek is reasonably sure that he's not going to make it out of this weekend alive.

here is the deepest secret nobody knows 22,322 | Teen and Up

“Derek,” Stiles groans. “You have me. You’ve always had me, you absolute moron, how many physically impossible feats of life-saving heroics do I have to perform before you get it?” 

can’t be hateful gotta be grateful 6,260 | Teen and Up

"Be cool, Dad, we've decided to con Grandma."

(Or, the one where the Stilinski men drag Derek to Thanksgiving dinner at Grandma's and she gets the right wrong idea.)

Noticed 35,179 | Teen and Up

Stiles left on a Tuesday. Nobody noticed. 

Losers 34,234 | E

Where Derek is new to college, eager to spend his time learning, and Stiles is everything he didn't want in a room mate. He's loud, he's into sports, and he keeps trying to make Derek do things.

Or, the one where Derek falls for a jock, Erica will cut you if you disturb her studying, and Jackson is a closeted romantic who pretends to hate everything.

35. Under Your Skin 12,207 | E

"So you decided hepatitis would be fun"; or the one about tattoos, waffles and ghouls.

[loserholland]

The Contract Chapter Two

Vegas Baby

Tags- @steph-oliveira

@thegirlwiththeblackglasses

@nharp13

@lydiascreams

P.S there’s no Kira in this series.

Warning- Some heavy make out sessions & Swearing. Plus VEGAS BABY!!! 

I live in vegas but I don’t go clubbing because I’m only fourteen soo yeaah. Also one of the first longest chapter’s I’ve ever written #proud. But I mentioned ‘Serendipty’ that sadly closed down but I really loved their frozen hot chocolate during the summer time so yeah.

Word Count- 9,007

Y/N P.O.V

“Wake up.” a familiar masculine voice said as I groaned pulling the cover’s over me “No, let me sleep.” I felt the cover’s being pulled off me causing to roll around the bed “Get up.” I rubbed the sleep out of my eyes to see Theo.

“Why’d did you wake me up at… 7:30 in the damn morning.” I complained causing Theo to chuckle “Come downstairs, I have a surprise.” I laid back down closing my eyes “No.” I mumbled causing Theo to sigh “You left me no choice.” Theo pulled my ankle towards the end of the bed causing me to yelp as he carried me over his shoulder “Theo! Put me down!” I screamed hitting his toned back “Stop being a butt hurt little girl!” Theo complained as he walked down the stairs stopping at the kitchen placing me back on my feet “Theo you litt-” someone cut me off before I could finish what I was about to say “Now now (Y/N) don’t swear in front of the children.” I stood shocked as Theo smirked I slowly turned around to see the pack was sitting in the living room causing me to gasp “Oh my- Theo- You- You’re all here!” I said in excitement as I hugged everyone. Scott & Allison had twins Crystal and Chris who are three, Stiles and Lydia had a girl and named her after Allison she’s two, Malia and Isaac had twin boys Caleb and Cole they’re three. Derek and Braeden had a daughter and named her after his mother Talia.  

Then there’s Liam who decided to travel alone, because ‘Hayden’ left to study abroad.

“Hi kids.” I sat on the floor as they all ran to give me a hug “Do you miss your favorite aunt?” they all giggled giving me small nods “Uncle Theo!” Caleb and Chris quickly got up to hug Theo who quickly carried both of the boys  as they did their special fist bump “Hey buds.” I turned back to the rest of the kids and whispered “You like me better right?” as they giggled in response.

Once we all got settle with breakfast I decided to ask why the pack was here “Soo, what brings you all to New York?” As Stiles glanced at me with a deadpan look “What?” I answered as I ate a piece of bacon. “(Y/N) we hear that You and Theo are engaged soo we thought gee, why don’t we pay them a visit just for fun.” Stiles said with sarcasm as I playfully rolled my eyes “You asked us to be your bridesmaid so here we are & we have something special planned.” Lydia added as I glanced at Theo who was sitting at the other end of the table who had a confused look on his face. “WE’RE GOING TO VEGAS BABY!” Isaac shouted as the kids giggled “Vegas baby!” They mimicked causing us to laugh “It’s a little get away for the weekend.” Scott said as I nodded “That’s a great Idea actually, I’ve never thought of that.” Theo added as I sipped on my coffee “We could go to my dress fitting & get your dresses today.” I said cheerfully as the girls nodded leaving the boys to look at us with the ‘what about the kids face.’ causing me to chuckle “Bring the kids to your fitting.” causing the boys to groan.

“Hey hey Scott!” Stiles said as he stuffed a piece of pancake into his mouth “You owe me twenty-bucks man pay up.” causing Scott to scoff while he pulled out his wallet “What was the bet about?” I questioned as I sipped on my ice coffee “That you and Theo would be get married in the future.” which caused me to spit of my coffee “What!” I shrieked looking at Stiles and Scott who was about to hand him the twenty bucks to freeze Stiles to groan “What? You two are getting married so I get my twenty bucks!”

Once I got into the dream dress I’ve wanted ever since I was in third grade I squealed at how beautiful it was though my smile quickly faded knowing Theo and I are only getting married so he could inherit his family company. The worker ‘Chloe’ helped me out of the dressing room “Would you like to put the tiara on?” I nodded as I crouched down a bit so that she could put the tiara on. I felt like royalty with a crown on and with the beautiful dress on, I slowly made my way to the girls before I stepped out I said “Close your eyes!” 

I slowly stepped out onto the platform facing the girls “Okay open!” I squealed as they opened their eyes and stared at me in awe “(Y/N) you look gorgeous!” Lydia said as she took out her phone to take a picture “I love it the dress it so gorgeous you look like a princess no no a queen!” “Theo’s gonna love it I’m already in love with it!” “Damn (Y/N) you look BEAUTIFUl!” my eyes began to water as I turned to look at my self then at the girls as I sat on the platform the gown circled around me Lydia rushed to my side with a tissue “Hun are you okay what’s wrong?” Lydia asked as she wiped the tears away before he reached the dress “It just-” Malia took a big gulp of the champagne “You’re not gonna call it off are you? I mean you did already ask Lydia to be your Maid of honor and we planned the vegas trip.” Malia poured more champagne into her glass worried that all the money they had put into the trip went to waste.

“No, no it’s just… I’m scared.” the girls stared at me with concern and confusion “(Y/N) don’t be, Theo loves you and will the the happiest man once you two get married.” I gave Lydia a small smile as she help me stand up “This is the dress.” I mumbled as they smiled “That’s the dress.” Lydia said as she called Chloe to bring me back to the dressing room.

The girls went to try on their dresses as I sat on the comfortable couches “(Y/N are you sure we’re gonna look okay in these?” Allison questioned “Yeah I mean we did have kids yunno are bodies aren’t the same.” Malia added causing me to sigh “You’ll all look great! Come outside!” I shouted as they walked out I gasp “You all look. HOT!” I cheered as they looked at themselves in the mirror “Wow, I do look hot.” Braeden said as she turned around to examine her backside “I have your dresses that you’ll be using for the dinner since it’ll be uncomfortable to dance and walk in these dresses especially with the kids.” Chloe was holding the dresses I’d pick out for the girls who agreed to the dress. 

“Where’s you dinner dress?” Malia questioned as I pointed to the dress on the rack waiting to try it on. My phone rang as I quickly pulled it out of my purse ‘Theodore’ flashed across the screen I swiped across the screen to accept the call “Hey.” I said in the background you could hear the kids screaming “But I want that Ice Cream!” one of them complained causing me to laugh “Hey did you find a dress? Caleb I’ll get you that ice cream… Yes Cole you don’t need to share with your brother.” I smiled Theo was always great with kids he’d make a great father someday. “Hey, (Y/N) are you there?” Theo asked “Yeah, I found a dress. I’m gonna try on my other  dress for the dinner since I don’t want to be walking around in a big dress.” I answered which caused Theo to chuckle “Two dresses? Didn’t you plan to use two dresses when you were twelve?” Which is true, I planned to use two dresses of course Theo remember. “Yes, I still am and will use two dresses.” Theo laughed “Hey I gotta go meet the boys, I’ll see you at home.” “Bye.”

“(Y/N) hurry out!” Malia complained causing me to roll my eyes playfully I walked out slowly the dress was a long sleeved off the shoulder bodycon dress with lot’s of lace fabric. I looked at myself in the mirror “It’s beautiful, get it! Get allll the dresses in here!” Malia slurred as she was about to down another glass of champagne “No,no no no!” Lydia said as she grabbed Malia’s glass “But but-” “No. (Y/N) it’s so beautiful, you look stunning.” I smiled “Well I guess I’ll get dressed and we’ll meet up with the boys.” Lydia nodded as Malia groaned laying her head onto Allison “Malia, don’t sleep were leaving. Isaac is gonna be soo mad.” she chuckled.

Once we got to Olive Garden the boys were waiting inside with the kids “Baby!” Malia slurred as she stumbled into Isaac’s arms “What did you do to my wife?!” I raised my hands up in defense “There was champagne, there was Malia.”  Theo pulled me into a side hug “Hi.” he whispered as he kissed my cheek “Hi.” I replied as I placed my head on his shoulder “Table for Theo? Party of sixteen?” The waiter called Theo stepped forward “That’s us.” Isaac draped Malia’s arm around his shoulder “Come on Mrs.Lahey.” 

This damn waitress was flirting with Theo, I mean I’m not jealous… maybe I was. Theo being Theo FLIRTED RIGHT BACK, I groaned loudly Allison well Lydia and Stiles’s daughter Allison sat at the end of the table so I sat to her left and Theo sat next to me. Since he decided to flirt when his fiancée well will be married for a year but STILL, so I just ignored him. “(Y/N) that’s quite the ring Theo got you.” Braeden commented as I continued to play with Allison I glanced at the ring then at Theo “It’s alright.” I shrugged causing Theo to scoff “Alright? I got a two million dollar ring to get ‘alright’?” I rolled my eyes “Yeah.” I answered the waitress came back with our food slipping when she gave Theo’s food she slipped him a note which I quickly grabbed.

Here’s my number, call me xoxo. - Angela

“Angela. I don’t like how you’ve been flirting with my fiancé all night I mean isn’t that quite inappropriate?” I snapped as Theo stared at me in shock “Well that note isn’t for you.” she commented back causing me to scoff I lifted my left hand to show off the diamond ring “You see this is? He proposed to me so if you can’t take a hint that we’re engaged and shouldn’t have even dared to slip this note to him.” Angela stared at me her face was flushed as she lowered her head and walked away from the table. I flipped the hair out of my face grabbing my water to help calm me down a bit as everyone stared in shock well except the children they were laughing. “What?” I asked as they continued to stare “She was flirting with my fiancé had to do something.” 

The drive back home was silent, the pack was staying with us so they drove in separate cars. I laid my chair back rubbing my temples continuing to ignore Theo “(Y/N) he whispered as I sighed closing my eyes “(Y/N)” he repeated causing me to groan “What?” I asked in annoyance glaring at him. “Why are you mad?” He asked his eyes still focused on the road I scoffed at his comment “Mad?!? My so called fiancé flirted with the damn waiter IN FRONT OF OUR FRIENDS!” I leaned back up looking at Theo “Just because I’ll be married to you for a year doesn’t mean you get to flirt with other people Theo!” I said in anger Theo pulled up to the house the pack trailing not to far behind us “(Y/N) I’m sorry it’s a habit.” he reached for my left hand as he placed a kiss on the back of my hand “I’m sorry please forgive me.” he gave me his famous popular ‘puppy dog eyes’ causing me to smile slightly  “A habit you need to stop.” he nodded “I promise.” he unlocked the car as we waited for the rest of the pack to get here. Lydia and Stiles are sleeping in my bedroom so I’ll be sleeping with Theo.

“Stop hogging the covers!” I complained as I faced my back away from Theo tugging on the covers “Stop taking all the covers!” Theo retorted pulling more of his covers “Theoo! I’m cold!” I began to toss and turn causing Theo to groan as I turned around to face him. Theo snaked his arm around my waist pulling me closer to him my head rested in the crook of his neck “That’s because you’re using a over-sized shirt and a thong.” causing me to blush slightly as the covers covered both of us “Better?” he questioned as I nodded “Yeah.. better.” I closed my eyes slowly drifting into sleep “Is the ring really an ‘alright’.” Theo voice was laced with worry and I pulled back to look at Theo “I love the ring Theo, I was just mad at you.” I mumbled causing Theo to give me a smug look “Were you jealous?” I scoffed “Jealous? Why would I be jealous?”  Theo laughed lightly looking down at my face “You snapped at the waiter & ignored me the entire time!” I mean… maybe I was jealous because Theo’s attention was on the waiter and doing it in front of our friends.

“You were jealous.” “I was not jealous.” “Yes you were.” “No I wasn’t.” “Yes.” “No.” “Yes,” “N-”  Theo leaned down to kissing me to shut me up as I laid there with my eyes widened his thumb brushed against my cheek as my eyes fluttered shut kissing him back Theo hovered over me placing his hands on my thighs slowly trailing down to my exposed backside he squeezed lightly on my butt cheek causing me to moan slightly as his tongue quickly dance with mine. It was slow and passionate it was so hot I placed my hands around his neck deepening the kiss Theo trailed kisses down my neck causing me to moan slightly “Aunty? Uncle?” my eyes widened “Why did you say that.” Theo mumbled against my neck causing me to groan “I didn’t say that.” “I did!” Theo pulled away from my neck to look at me as I glanced to my left to see Caleb I quickly pushed Theo off of me causing him to roll off the bed “Caleb!” I exclaimed “Ow.” Theo complained slowly getting back up “Caleb hun what are you doing here?” I quickly pulled the covers over me my lower body Caleb hugged his plush wolf while rubbing the sleep out of his eyes “I can’t sleep.” He mumbled “Awe buddy, wanna sleep with me and uncle?” I patted the middle of the bed he quickly climbed up the bed snuggling into my side. Theo got back into bed glaring at me “Thanks for pushing me.” I slapped his forearm “Shh! Caleb is sleeping.” Theo fixed his pillow before falling asleep “Goodnight Theo.” I mumbled “Goodnight Princess.”

“WHERE’S CALEB!” a voice rang “WHERE’S CALEEEB!” another voice screamed Theo’s bedroom door flew open causing me to groan “He’s here! He couldn’t sleep so he came here!” Theo screamed causing Caleb stir in his sleep Isaac rushed to my side of the bed “Sorry, I’ll take him now.” Isaac carried Caleb back to their room closing Theo’s door I snuggled back into the pillow falling back asleep till Theo sat up “Wake up we leave for Vegas today.” I groaned “We leave the house at One, it’s a five hour flight so it’ll be three o’clock in vegas.” I immediately pulled the covers off quickly standing up “I didn’t pack!” I paced back and forth Theo leaned up against his headboard propping his arm behind his head “I forgot.. plus you look hot walking around with my shirt on.. especially since you’re just using a thong.” Theo threw a wink at me causing me to scoff “Watch that mouth Raeken.” I walked over to grab to his side of the bed to pat his chest “Go make breakfast.” I walked over to his bedroom door leaving the door wide open so I could head to my bedroom. The kids were sleeping in their own rooms but Caleb loves to sleep with his parents, I swung my door open “Good morning Stilinki’s!” Stiles shrieked causing Lydia to slap his forehead “Don’t mind me! Here for me closet!” I said in a sing-song voice “(Y/N) hun you could’ve knocked.” Lydia retorted I popped my head out of the walk-in closet “Hey, my room I can walk in anytime! Plus I need to pack!” 

I dragged two of my luggages out of my closet “Theo! Help!” I screamed it was hard to do in heels “I heard you I’m- what are you wearing?” Theo questioned as I turned on my heels “Uh clothes? Just help me please?” I stepped aside so he could get my luggage “You do know it’s cold on the jet.” I grabbed my backpack and shrugged “It’s hot in Vegas plus I got my blanket and your blanket.” Theo scoffed “Your outfit is quite revealing , I don’t want people looking at my fiancée.” I scrunched my nose “Now you’re calling me your fiancée?” Theo rolled his eyes at me proceeding out my bedroom.

I got into the car with the cars while the boys travelled in separate cars. Derek and Braeden decided to stay back and watch the kids because he’s ‘too old’ and ‘not a party animal’. “Uh (Y/N).) Allison questioned as I looked up from my phone “Yeah?” the girls were all looking at me with a worried look “What?”  I placed my phone back in my backpack “Your outfit.. it’s..” Lydia started trying to find the right words to say “It’s to revealing.” Malia said. Seriously? Theo said the exact same thing, “It’s Vegas! Come on, give me some slack I’m gonna be married soon.” I slouched in my seat crossing my arms around my chest “Fine fine, once we get to Vegas we’re checking in at Bellagio then we can rest for a little bit, eat dinner and clubbing!” Malia said while clapping her hands “Now, who want’s some champagne?” Malia grabbed the champagne bottle out of her backpack “Did you seriously just? How? Never mind fill me up!” Malia rolled down her window ready to open the bottle, the cork fly else where. Lydia pulled out some red solo cups, while Allison pulled out some orange juice “How did I not know you three were brought cups, juice and champagne!” taking my mimosa from Lydia “Here’s to (Y/N)!” Malia said as we cheered tapping our cups against one another “And here’s to VEGAS BABY!” 

The car pulled up to the jet way in front of Theo’s private jet I grabbed the champagne from Malia pouring some into my cup as we stepped out to meet the boys “Theo!” I squealed running towards him as he stood there with wide eyes “Hey princess.” he commented as I hugged him  grabbing his snapback from his head “You look so cutee!” I glanced at his outfit chuckling to myself “No you look hot!” causing Theo to blush slightly while taking my cup from me “But that’s my drink!” I pouted reaching for my cup that Theo held high even with these heels I’m still short. “Theo! That’s my cup gimme gimme!” Theo leaned down his lips ghosting over mine “Give me a kiss first.” Theo’s hands slowly came down to wrap around my waist, I reached behind to grab my cup from him placing a kiss on his cheek “Come on! We need to get on!” 

“Theo I’m cold!” I complained as I tried to sleep we were sitting on the long couch I snuggled into my blanket that didn’t really do much “Come here princess.” The I scooted over my back rested against Theo’s chest I snuggled into his side hugging his bicep “Wake me up when we’re in Vegas.” I mumbled.

“Princess, we’re here.” Theo whispered as I slowly sat up to look outside the window flying over the strip “Vegas baby!” Stiles shouted handing out some Mimosa Lydia stood up to clear her throat “Thank you everyone, for gathering with us to celebrate (Y/N) and Theo’s engagement.  Also thank you to the Lahey’s for giving us the idea to come to vegas. But overall I’m so happy for you both! Cheers!” we all lifted our glasses in the air “Cheers!” Lydia motioned Liam to say a few words due to Theo choosing Liam as his best-man “Ditto.” causing us to laugh as the pilot announced we’ll be landing in a few minutes.

It was so humid as if we were in an oven, I rushed into the limo to feel the cool air conditioning sighing as the cool air touched my skin leaving the boys to do all the work with the luggage. It was currently 3 o’clock the driver drove us down the strip and pulled into the Bellagio the dancing water’s was currently going on as people gathered to watch or just glance at it. “Welcome to the Bellagio.” One of the bellboys said as they grabbed our luggage, the girls and I walked in through the revolving doors we watched as Stiles was about to walk in but instead hit his face against the glass causing us to cringe at the sight Lydia gasped as she waited for Stiles to step out “Baby are you okay?” she questioned grabbing his face “Yeah.. I’m okay.” we watched as the rest of the boys squished into one pushing against the door waiting to get out “Why couldn’t you wait?” Scott asked Isaac “Dude you’re the tallest out of all of us.” Theo added causing Isaac to blush slightly “I wanted to be by my wife before drunk creeps approach her.” Isaac retorted going to Malia’s side. “Stiles and I are gonna check in go explore.” Lydia said as she dragged Stiles to the front desk.

The Conservatory was absolutely beautiful, full of flower art “It’s gorgeous.” I commented as I dragged Theo to look around the art work made with flowers! We walked hand in hand admiring, well I was admiring the flowers unlike Theo who was grumbling things to himself which caused me to pull him off to the side I lifted my sunglass over my head to look at him “Hey, what’s wrong?” I placed both my hands on his cheeks grazing my thumb against his cheekbone “Nothing.” he mumbled I rolled my eyes playfully “What’s wrong?” I questioned again as Theo wrapped his arms around my waist “Those guys keep starring at you..” He mumbled looking down at his feet I chuckled lifting his chin up to place a sweet kiss on his lips “I’m with you, not them. Let them stare because they don’t get to hold my hand nor be near me.” Theo nodded intwining my left hand into his right making sure to show the ring the beautiful ring that I can’t seem to get over.

Lydia got Theo and I the penthouse suite with the fountain view, they also got a penthouse suite but decided to all share with except Liam who wanted his own room because when we get all ‘touchy’ or ‘lovey dovey’ it makes him ‘nauseous’. Once we stopped at Liam’s level which he walked out “Bye losers I don’t want to be stuck with you all sucking each other’s face off, makes me sick.” I scoffed before the elevator doors closed I yelled “Sure jan!” causing the rest of us to laugh.

 I unlocked the suite door swinging it open “Woah.” I walked over to the living room opening up the curtains “It’s so beautiful!” I glanced at Theo who plopped himself on the couch I turned around to sit at his feet “Come sleep in the bedroom.” We haven’t spoken nor brought up the kiss that happened last night, I’m not even sure if I should bring it up. I mean it was hot and I loved it a lot… but we’re best friends who are gonna be married for a year. He’s had one night stands literally every two weeks and I haven’t done the deed for eight years so I would maybe just maybe like to do it with Theo. “Come on let’s rest for a bit, we have to be ready by 6:30 because dinner is at 7 o’clock then we go clubbing.” I tapped on Theo’s knee “Fine I’ll have the comfortable king size bed to myself.” I mumbled getting up to go to the room till I felt Theo sweep me off my feet carrying me into the room bridal style “Ah! Theo!” I wrapped my arms loosely around his neck “It’s not even our honeymoon yet, aren’t you suppose to carry the bride like this on their honeymoon?” I took off his snapback flying it into the corner of the room Theo scoffed “Hey, my hat.” he slowly placed me on the bed kicking off his shoes then taking off my heels I plugged my phone into the charger and setting an alarm finally placing in on the night stand. Theo got into bed he arm snaked around my waist pulling me closer to him “I set an alarm.” I mumbled as I slowly closed my eyes “Alright princess.” 

“Theo.” I moaned as he left trails of wet kisses down my neck his hand brushed against my shoulder allowing the strap on my bralette to fall of my shoulder sucking on my skin here and there then finally went to my shoulder sucking on my skin as I moaned at the pleasure I flipped our position so that I was straddling his waist removing my bralette and his shirt kissing trailed wet kisses down his chest till I reached his pants I ran my finger against his buldge “(Y/N) do something.” he moaned as I lifted myself up “What do you want Mr.Raeken?” I lightly scratched my nails against his chest “Use that pretty mouth of yours, wrap it around my big dick.” I slowly began to unbuckle his belt “Anything else Mr.Raeken?” I questioned as I pulled his pants and briefs down to his ankle his sex hit his lower stomach so hard and big “I also want you to ride me.” I licked a bold strip from his balls to the tip licking up the pre-cum. Slowly I took it into my mouth using my hands to jerk what I couldn’t take in my mouth. “(Y/N), (Y/N) wake up.” I looked back up at Theo “What?” 

“(Y/N)!” I quickly sat up looking around the room Theo was standing on the side of the bed with a towel wrapped loosely around his waist “You’re alarm went off and you were moaning early I wanted to check up on you to see if you were okay.” I quickly wiped the sweat off my forehead “Yeah! I’m fine, I’m great.” I squeaked. I felt my cheeks heat up as Theo walked back into the ‘his’ bathroom as I watched him flex his back muscles, holy guacamole. I just had a dream about my best friend. 

I grabbed a towel and headed to the ‘her’ bathroom with the bathtub. I filled it with water and added a bath bomb and bubble bar that I brought with me, I filled the tub up with hot warm water. I slowly dipped my body into the tub, I rested my head against the tub rim closing my eyes as the dream replayed over and over again. The way Theo’s hand ran down my body, the way he kissed my exposed skin I ran my fingers down my neck then over my shoulder moaning at the thought of Theo’s lips on my skin “(Y/N)?” my eyes shot open to see Theo standing by the door way in a cute no hot outfit , what the hell is wrong with me? I think my best friend is hot, he walked over to the tub and sat on the open space near the tub “Are you okay?” he questioned as I sank into the water grabbing the sponge to on the side of the tub “Yeah, I’m fine.” I mumbled squeezing some soap onto the sponge and dipping it into the water. I lifted the sponge to my shoulder till Theo reached out and took it from me “Theo!” I squealed as I turned around to look up at him “Theo please just go wait in the living room.” I mumbled as I reached for the sponge “Shh.” Theo placed his index finger on my lips “Turn around, let me.” I turned around crossing my hands across my chest as I let Theo glide the sponge over my back and shoulders.

[ Stiles Outfit, Scott Outfit, Isaac Outfit  Allison/Malia Outfit & Lydia/Reader Outfit  & Liam’s Outfit ]

Once we all met in the lobby we got an uber to Ceasar’s Palace to have dinner at Sushi Roku Las Vegas, Theo and I decided to uber together the ride wasn’t that long due to Ceasars Palace being right next door to Bellagio. I glanced up at Theo was had he jaw clenched he rested his hand on my thigh lightly squeezing it I placed my hand on his intwining it with mine. “What’s wrong?” I questioned as I rested my head on his shoulder the traffic was horrible just to go right next door Theo shook his head “Nothing.” he muttered as I lifted my head up as I used my other hand on his face forcing him to look at me. I brushed my thumbs against his scruff looking into his beautiful green eyes “What’s wrong?” Theo glanced to look at the driver then back at me “He keep’s staring at you.” he mumbled causing me to grin to myself “Awe, are you jealous? Remember don’t be.” I brought my left hand into his view “You see this? You proposed to me and you shouldn’t be jealous because I’m here with you they can stare all they want but those guys won’t end up in the same bed nor will get to hold me in their arms. Theo, you’re the only one that get’s to do that.” Theo gave me a soft smile placing a soft kiss on my lips as he brushed his thumb against my cheek and rested his forehead against mine. This was apart of the contract act like a couple.. I mean we were acting like one right?

“Reservation under Lydia Stilinski.” The waiter scanned her Ipad “Ah here you are, follow me please.” we walked through the slightly dimmed restaurant as the waiter led us to our table near a huge window with the view of the strip. Once we got the menu’s I quickly looked over what I was gonna get. The waiter came over as everyone was ready to order “Hi my name is Kyle and I’ll be your waiter for tonight. What can I get you folks?” Malia was about to order till I beat her to it “I’d like a Japonais and a Katana, with white wine.” I closed the menu placing on the end of the table as the pack looked at me with a stunned expression. “What? I’m hungry.” I said as a blush crept on my cheeks.

Once I got my wine I tapped my class with the spoon and cleared my throat “I just want to say a little speech before I get drunk over sushi and wine but, I know I say this all the time but you all are just the best of friends we could ever ask for. I can’t thank you all enough for doing this for Theo and I, I love you all so much. You guys are my family and already have a next generation of the pack.” I said referring to how they already have kids “But I don’t want to make you guys cry but thank you guys so much for doing this, I love you all. I’m beyond grateful to have you all in my life.” Lydia wiped some tears off her cheeks “See! You made me cry!” Stiles took a big sip of his wine “I’m not crying.. my eyes are sweating!” Allison and Scott got up to give Theo and I a hug “We love you too.” they said in a unison “We’re thankful that Caleb and Cole love spending time with their favorite aunty and uncle.” Isaac said as he wrapped his arm around Malia “We’re eternally grateful to have you both as their god parents we love you both soo much!” Malia said as she grabbed my hand. “I’m grateful to have you as my best friend and fiancée.” Theo whispered as he placed a kiss on the back of my hand. Well a fiancée that you will be marry to for a year…

To be honest I don’t go clubbing unless it’s with the pack. We stood in line at Omnia and let’s just say the line was long, my feet were in pain from all the walking “Theo, my feet hurt.” I complained as I stomped my feet like a child Theo glanced at me and rolled his eyes “Why did you use heels?” I scoffed “Because I wanted to!” he grabbed my forearm adding a little pressure to it “Stop acting like a brat.” he whispered causing me to whimper “I’m not acting like a brat!” I retorted as the rest of the pack were in their own conversation “Yes you are now stop we’re almost in.” he whispered yelled as we made our way to the front the security looked between Theo and I but glanced at Theo again “Are you Theodore Raeken?” he questioned as Theo chuckled “Depends on who’s asking.” he said with a smirk “If I knew the youngest millionaire bachelor was coming to Omnia we would’ve let you in about-” “15 minutes ago.” I interjected “Well go in we don’t need to check your id’s.” he unlocked the velvet rope allowing us in as he opened the door music blasting bodies on the dance floor, well this is gonna be one hell of a night.

Bodies, sweaty bodies swayed against each other their hands exlporing each other’s body I held onto Theo as I felt bodies grind up against me I yelped “No! NO!” I jumped onto Theo’s back as he stumbled forward a litttle “(Y/N!)” He yelled over the music “People are getting too touchy!” I retorted as he set me down once we were at the bar I clung onto Theo, damn this club is packed. “I want malibu and coke please.” I shouted trying to be heard over the music Theo just nodded talking to the bar tender the pack went to find a booth to sit in “Aren’t you Theodore Raeken?” someone from behind the counter asked “Yes, yes I am.” I pulled at his arm trying to hurry him up “Do you have a v.i.p booth saved for you?” the person asked I quickly looked over at the person “No we don’t. Sorry didn’t mean to be rude, (Y/N) I’m his fiancée.” the person behind the counter who seemed to be the manger nodded “Please follow me, if you have others with you please let them know to follow us.” I quickly glanced around the crowd looking for Lydia who was pushing her way through the sweaty bodies.

Third person p.o.v

“Vegas baby!” (Y/N) shouted as she held onto the balcony Theo sat back and watched as his best friend slurred and stumble getting herself another coke and malibu the DJ was playing another song ‘Slide’ by Calvin Harris (Y/N) spinned on around her heels heading towards Theo “Theo! Let’s dance this is my song!” She tugged on his wrist as he hesitantly stood up she led them down to the dance floor (Y/N) wrapped both of Theo’s arms around her waist as Theo’s chest pressed against her back. She swayed her hips against Theo member who groaned at the sensation (Y/N) continued to sway her hips as Theo buried his face in the crook of her neck his placed hot wet kisses all over her neck. 

(Y/N) checked the stalls to see if anyone else was in the restroom Theo stood near the entrance “Lock it.” she shouted pushing her best friend against the door hungrily attaching her lips to his neck leaving wet kisses and biting on his sensitive skin leaving hickeys that’ll be quite visible by tomorrow. Her breathe fanned over Theo as she bit his earlobe playfully.

Theo switched their positions so that she was pressed against the door Theo’s hand roamed her body stopping on her waist he pulled her closer his lips ghosting over (Y/N) lips “What do you want (Y/N)?” Theo questioned as he rubbed circles into her hips “Kiss me.” Theo searched her eyes then looked back at her lips. (Y/N) couldn’t wait any longer she wrapped her hand around his nape pulling him closer to her so she could place her lips on his as they moved in a sync. Theo tapped on her thigh signalling her to jump as he licked her bottom lips a few times asking her permission to open her lips slightly causing their tongues to fight for dominance which Theo won. He moved down her neck causing (Y/N) to moan but just then she felt her stomach turn “Theo.” she panted “Theo.” he continued to work hickeys on her neck “Theo I have to-” (Y/N) placed her hand over her mouth pushing pass Theo to throw herself over the toilet hurling as Theo rushed to her side holding her hair back while rubbing her back “I wanna go to bed.” she complained as she looked at Theo grabbing some of the toilet paper to wipe her mouth. “Yeah.. yeah let’s go get the pack.” Theo helped her walk back out as she rested her head on his shoulder wanting to just go to bed.

Theo placed (Y/N) on the bed taking off her heels. He slowly lifted her body to rest against the head board “Do you wanna change out of your clothes?” Theo asked in a hushed voice (Y/N) nodded lifting her arms up allowing Theo to take off her dress leaving (Y/N) bare in her black strapless lace bra and a lace thong causing Theo to stare at her with his eyes widened a lump starting to form in his throat as he swallowed hard taking off his hoodie placing it on (Y/N) body. Once Theo changed into basket ball shorts he got into bed he checked his phone to see it was 2:47 he placed it back on the nightstand placing an arm on (Y/N) waist pulling her closer to his chest. (Y/N) snuggled into the crook of Theo’s neck as Theo placed a kiss on the crown of her head “I love you Theo.” she mumbled Theo smiled as she wrapped her arms around his waist “I love you too babygirl.”

“My head.” (Y/N) mumbled pulling her head away from Theo’s neck to see a few hickeys on his neck “Oh my god!” Theo’s eyes fluttered open groaning at (Y/N) voice “What is it.” Theo asked in a raspy voice ‘damn his morning voice is so sexy.’ (Y/N) thought “You.. you have a hickey.” She said in a small voice causing Theo to chuckle “So do you.” Theo mumbled as he fell back asleep (Y/N) quickly pulled away to grab her phone opened her camera to see the purple bruises on her neck “Oh my god! Who did this! Who did that to you!” she questioned causing Theo to chuckle showing off his pearly white teeth “You did this to me. You don’t remember?” Theo turned his head to the side showing of the hickeys “And.. I did that to you.” Theo mumbled as (Y/N) stared at Theo’s half naked body “Did we? Did I?” She questioned as Theo quickly stood up to hug her “No.. no we just made out a little. We were both intoxicated and when you threw up and said you wanted to go to bed so we came back here, I helped you change and we fell asleep.” (Y/N) wouldn’t have had a problem if she and Theo had sex… as long as she was sober. They stand in each others embrace till her phone began to rang which caused (Y/N) to peel away from Theo. “Hey Lyds.” Lydia groaned “Today is a free day I’m having the worse hangover for the first time actually in a long time since I had Allison. I’m gonna take advil then go back to bed so goodnight.” (Y/N) chuckled at Lydia’s comment “Alright goodnight dearie.” with that (Y/N) ended the call turning around to look at Theo “Todays a free day soo… can we go shopping?”  Theo rolled his eyes playfully “Of course princess.” she squealed quickly heading to the bathroom to take a bathe.

Readers p.o.v

“We have to walk?” I questioned as we stood in the elevator Theo nodded intwining my left hand with his right hand “Yes, we’re walking.” I groaned stomping my feet a little like a child “If I knew we were walking I would’ve wore flats!” I protested as Theo wrapped his arm around my waist pulling me closer to his hard chest as my hands gripped his jersey hoping not to fall “Hey, stop acting like a spoiled brat or else I won’t buy you anything.” my brows furrowed as I playfully slapped his chest “I am not a spoiled brat!” Theo chuckled pulling me into a hug “Say what you want but I buy you everything you want. That’s a spoiled brat.” I scoffed “That’s because you don’t tell me ‘no’ you just say yes or I’ll pay for it.” Theo rolled his eyes playfully as he tucked a strand of hair behind my ear “You look cute today.” Theo commented as he released me from the hug intwining our hands again I smiled looking down at my outfit  “You don’t look too bad yourself.” Theo chuckled placing a kiss on my cheek as the elevator door opened “Let’s go.”

The walk to Ceasar’s Palace Forum Shops wasn’t that bad beside the damn humidity taking a toll on me we passed by ‘Serendipity’ I gasped they have the best frozen hot chocolate. I tugged at Theo hand “Theo! I want frozen hot chocolate please!” Theo sighed “Fine fine.” I squealed as we walked over to order “Hi can we get two frozen hot chocolates.” I said cheerfully “Oh baby I don’t want one.” Theo commented as I glanced at him “You’ll love it! You didn’t try it in New York so you’ll have to try it now.” the cashier nodded “Two frozen hot chocolates that’ll be $19.38.” I pulled out a twenty before Theo could protest “Keep the change.” I brought Theo to the side as we waited for our drinks “Since you’ll be spoiling me today, I just wanted to pay.” Theo smiled as he placed a sweet kiss on my forehead “Two frozen hot chocolates.” I squealed quickly grabbing the drinks sipping on the chocolatey goodness moaning at the taste “It’s great right!” Theo sighed “Yeah it really is.” I smiled “Ha I told you so!” Theo kissed me cheek sweetly “Now come on let’s shop.”

Once we walked into Ceasar’s palace the fumes of cigarettes met my nostrils “Ugh I hate this smell.” I commented as we walked through the casino sipping on my drink the sounds of the machine’s going off here and there people muttering to themselves cocktail waitresses walking by in short dresses I glanced up at Theo who’s eyes wandered towards the waitresses causing me to groan and elbow him in the stomach causing him to groan “What was that for?” I glared at him not saying anything Theo kept quiet for a minute whispering an “Oh.” we walked silently into the mall area as I led him to Christian Louboutin store I threw my drink away and so did Theo. Yet we still walked silently into the store greeted by the workers “Welcome how can we help you today?” I smiled at the worker named ‘Karmen’ “Yes could I try on Follies Strass Flat, Very Rete, Escarpic in black and burgundy in size (Y/S/S).” Karmen nodded and headed to the back to get the shoes as I sat next to Theo pulling out my phone scrolling through snapchat waiting for Karmen to come back with my shoes “Here we are Ms.” I got up excitedly grabbing the Follies Strass Flat’s first to try on “Thank you.” I mumbled as she went to the cash register to help another costumer.  I slipped on the flats looking at myself in the mirror I glanced at Theo who was looking down at his phone, I sighed putting the flats back in their box then tried on the Very Rete “It’s so beautiful.” I mumbled Theo looked at me and smiled “Get all of it.” I turned to look at him as I slowly walked towards the couch placing my hand on his “I’m sorry I elbowed you earlier.” Theo gave me a soft smile “I’m sorry I looked at those waitresses. I know I promised you I wouldn’t flirt or anything I’m sorry princess.” I gave him a kiss on the cheek “You’re forgiven, now.. let’s get these heels.”

“Your total is $4,492.38″ Theo pulled out his debit card and inserted it into the bottom of the machine as if it wasn’t a problem that it cost that much. I rested my chin on my left hand showing off the ring causing Karmen to gasp “Congratulation! That’s a beautiful ring.” I smiled warmly at her “Thank you, I love the ring too.” She handed us the bag of heels and flat “Thank you for shopping with us today and congratulations again.” I took the bag from the counter kissing Theo’s cheek thanking him for spoiling me as we left the store “So, where to next?” I glanced up at Theo and smirked “Chanel and that’s the final stop because I’m getting hungry.” Theo chuckled as we walked together to Chanel.

“Your total is $18,943.75.” I hugged Theo from behind showing him how thankful I was for him buying me no spoiling me with all these items that I wanted “Thank you.” I mumbled as I moved to Theo’s side to take the bag “Thank you for shopping at Chanel.” the worker said with a smile as I took the bag from the counter “Thank you thank you thank you!” I squealed as we left the store “No problem princess just like I said, I buy you anything you want. Now where do you want to eat?” We stopped on the side as I began to think, I know they had a Cheesecake Factory here plus I’ve been craving a cheesecake why not eat there? “Cheesecake Factory!” I answered happily as we began to walk to Cheesecake Factory.

We sat in the corner of Cheesecake Factory waiting for our waiter to come back to take our order, I rested my chin on the palm of my hand as I looked outside to see people passing by some sat near the huge fish tank. “You look beautiful.” I turned my attention back to Theo and smiled  “Awe thank you, I know I know take a picture it’ll last longer.” Theo chuckled the waiter came up to our table with a notepad and our drinks “Hello I’m Andrew I’ll be your waiter today.” he glanced at me and wink first of all GROSS! “I’ll have the Grilled Rib-Eye Steak.” Theo said as he closed the menu Andrew glanced at Theo and rolled his eyes “Um ladies first, would you like my number..?” I scoffed at his actions “First of all you will write down my fiancé’s order and two I’d never want your number. I’ll be having the Lunch Salmon. Now I want a new waiter who has respect for their costumers.” I closed my menu and handed him the Menu crossing my arms across my chest waiting for him to leave as he nodded looking at the floor shyly. 

Theo and I laughed in sync as we reminisced about the day we met each other and the day he left “I can never forget the day we met and the day you left.” I smiled as I sipped on my water smiling at the memory replaying in my head.

It was a bright sunny day in Beacon Hills it was recess time for (Y/N) and her friends “Lydia!” the little girl screamed in search for her best friend “Scott?Stiles?” she looked around the playground for her friends “Where are they?” she mumbled running towards the playground till she bumped into to something… more like someone. “I’m sorry! Are you okay? I didn’t mean to run into you! I’m so clumsy I’m sorry!” She rambled on as the boy turned around “It’s okay don’t worry I’m clumsy too.” (Y/N) stared at the boy he was a few inches taller then her “Hi! I’m (Y/N).” she stuck her hand out waiting for him to shake it “I’m Theo.” he said we a smile.

“Your.. your leaving?” (Y/N) asked in a small voice as Theo nodded his gaze fixed on the floor now wanting to meet her sad disappointed eyes, yet she did the unexpected she ran up to him wrapping her arms around his waist causing Theo to stumble back a little “Don’t forget me. I love you.” (Y/N) mumbled as tears filled her eyes Theo, her best friend well boy best friend was moving to New York due to his father’s business. Theo’s heart clenched at such words that left his best friends mouth “I could never forget you. I love you too.” Theo mumbled as he wrapped his arms around her. “Theo! Come on honey we need to go.” 

“I was really sad.” I commented as I glanced up at Theo who was staring back at me “My best friend moved away and yes I did have Scott, Stiles and Lydia but it wasn’t the same without you. The boy who I bumped into due to my clumsiness.” Theo took my hand in his rubbing small circles on the back of my hand “I was sad too, when you told me to not forget you… plus that was our first ‘I love you.’ it hurt my heart I was happy that you loved me but sad that you’d think I’d forget you.” my heart fluttered at Theo’s words that caused me to smile from ear to ear. He brought my hand to his lips as he kissed the back of it sweetly the waiter came back with our desert “Yum! Cheesecake.” I squealed as I quickly dug into it causing Theo to laugh.

Today was a great fun day with Theo once we got back to the hotel we crashed “Thank you for today.” I propped myself up using my elbows to hold me up “I had so much fun, and thank you for spoiling me.” I said shyly as Theo walked over to the bed he had taken off his shirt and jersey leaving him in just in jeans he rested on the edge of the bed as I placed my feet on his thigh which he quickly began to massage “Ah, you read my mind.” I mumbled causing Theo to chuckle “You kinda made it obvious.” I closed my eyes slightly “What time is it?” I questioned “2:47″ Theo answered as my eyes fluttered open “Let’s go to the pool, wanna call the pack? They should be rested already.” I suggested causing Theo to nod “Sure why not and I’ve heard that there’s a pool with a huge fountain in the middle.” I squealed quickly getting up to grab my bikini “Call them now!” I demanded as Theo chuckled.

[ Girl’s Bikini ; Boy’s Swim trunks ]

“I miss the kids.” I mumbled causing Allison to sigh “Yeah I miss the kids too, maybe we should call Derek and Braeden see how they’re doing with the kids.” Lydia quickly pulled out her phone and called the Hale’s “Hey, how’s the kids?” Lydia questioned “Tell Crystal and Chris I said hi!” “Tell the boys mommy misses them!” Malia and Allison shouted causing me to smile. I want to have kids.. but I never brought it up to Theo because we’d be married for only a year.. 

I would want twins… one boy and one girl Bryson and Brooklyn. Bryson and Brooklyn Raeken sounds beautiful, but would Theo want kids? What would we do if I get pregnant and we get a divorce? “Hey.” Theo said as he handed me my drink pulling me out of my thoughts he leaned down to place a kiss on my cheek sitting behind me on the chair wrapping his arms loosely around my waist. “What were you thinking about?” I shrugged “I miss the kids.” ugh I sound like a mom “I miss them too.” Theo rested his chin on my shoulder once Allison ended the call I lifted my glass “Thank you all once again for this weekend.” Everyone lifted there glass lightly tapping it against each other’s glass “Hear hear!” Theo placed a kiss on my exposed shoulder which caused me to smile.

It was a great weekend but I just want to be back in New York in my bed.

[eternalsterekrecs]

A Life Less Ordinary by Jebiwonkenobi

It takes a few years but eventually they manage to agree on something; Derek Hale is an asshole, and Stiles Stilinski is in love with him.

Burn by night by thebrotherswinchester

Sheriff Stilinski has been kidnapped by Alpha werewolves. As bait. For his own son.

Cupboard Love by mklutz

He’s carefully balancing the sandwiches and the two biggest tupperware containers he could find that both had functioning lids when the front door opens and he almost drops everything right there in front of the stupid fountain.

If that’s Derek Hale, he’s definitely not a mountain man.

Daddy’s Do’s by apocryphal

“Hi Mr. Stilinski!” Lydia said pertly. “My name’s Lydia, and this is my daddy. His name is Derek Andrew Hale and he watches all of your videos on YouTube a lot, but he still can’t braid.”

[Stiles is a celebrity YouTube hairstylist. Derek may or may not have a crush. Lydia just wants a French braid for school picture day.]

Everything’s Better Under the Sea by tryslora

Everything changes when Derek goes under while surfing, hits his head on a board, and sees a man with a tail swimming away. He wants to know who that was, and what it has to do with Beacon Hills, the one place he never meant to come back to.

Five Times Stiles Apologized (and One Time He Didn’t Need To) by Analiena, QueenOfTheCute

Gravity’s Got Nothing on You by zosofi

“Three weeks,” Derek says.

“Still don’t want to,” Stiles says.

“I’ll pay you,” Derek says, and that… that has Stiles interested. Alf’s Antique’s may be a great job, but it’s not a high-paying job, and half of Stiles’s tuition is coming from financial aid, so…

“How much,” Stiles asks, “are we talking here? Because I know your family, dude. And it’ll be kind of awkward after.“

“My family thinks you’re some sort of fucking gift to the world,” Derek seethes, like he’s jealous, “they’ll probably be pissed at me when we break it off, so don’t worry about that. Five hundred bucks.”

“A thousand,” Stiles says, because screw ethics. Also, the Hale family is loaded. Derek can deal.

Hold the Door by Hatteress, maichan808

When Derek is killed by a rival alpha, the pack will stop at nothing to get him back. Even if that means blackmailing the most dangerous hunter duo this side of hell. Whatever. That whole devil thing was probably totally exaggerated, anyway.

If galileo gave us good advice by proxydialogue

Stiles is glued together wrong. That’s the best that Derek can figure.

Jambalaya by SylvieW

Derek hasn’t had a job for years. Now that he’s decided to stay in Beacon Hills, he wants to put down roots. But making friends with his co-workers is a lot harder than he remembers.

Knot if You Don’t Knock by jsea, marguerite_26

Stiles never expects to present as an omega -- that's something that happens to people like Greenberg, not him. He is so wrong.

His life only gets stranger when Derek Hale mistakenly bursts through the door of his exam room during a doctor’s appointment. What happens next is a complicated series of events, including freshly baked cookies, book-carrying and surprise heats.

Like French Vanilla Ice Cream by GotTheSilver

Hale Sounds, Open 'til Midnight.

An Empire Records AU.

“Well, maybe you should sort out your own love life before looking at mine.”

“I don’t have a love life.”

“That’s the point I was making,” Erica responds in a tone of voice that suggests she thinks Derek is stupid.

Mǣnōn by MyBeth

Knotting. It’s a thing that exists. Like werewolves and weird lizard creatures. It’s just rated NC-17 so you don’t hear about it so much on TV. It exists and he gets it. Stiles. He’s the one that gets it.

Numbers by standinginanicedress

“I'm magic,” Stiles raises his hands in the air and puts on a serious facial expression. “I have the sixth sense.”

“The sixth sense, huh? Is that what they're calling bullshit these days?”

Stiles' lips purse down hard, but he still smirks. Derek wonders if there's any single facial expression that Stiles can make that isn't in some way at least slightly amused, whether at himself or the expense of others. “Non-believers aren't welcome at my table, Derek.”

Of Wolves and Doughnuts by Hatteress

When Derek was fifteen, circumstance and a goddamn doughnut had seen fit to Bond him to Stiles Stilinski.

In which Derek is more cunning than anyone gives him credit for, Stiles doesn't understand why the new Alphas in town are all up in his business and everyone gets a violent crash-course in what it means to be Pack, whether they're in it or not.

Pale Skin and Fragile Bones by lydiasbones

“I’m not going to do anything!” Lydia defended, looking far too affronted to be genuine. “It just seems that the universe has decided that the two of you will continue to run into each other at an improbable frequency for the foreseeable future. I’m banking on that.”

“You don’t bank on anything,” Stiles said grimly. “You make things happen.”

Lydia smirked. “That’s not entirely untrue.”

--

Or, the one in which Derek arrests one of Stiles' friends and Stiles holds a grudge. Also, Stiles wrote Derek's favorite book. But they don't know that.

Queer Your Coffee by alisvolatpropiis

Derek's just over the city line when he sees a sign for an independent drive-thru place, Full Spectrum Brew. There are three cars in line when he turns in, which annoys him but gives him hope. Not that he really trusts the people of Beacon Hills to have much taste when it comes to coffee (god, he is a snob), but the shop’s popularity does seem to bode well. The line of cars moves way more slowly than he’d like, each customer in front of him seeming to take way too long to order, and then lingering when they get their coffee. He’s irritable from lack of sleep and an even more detrimental lack of caffeine, anxious to get out of the car. Finally it’s his turn and he slowly rolls up to the window, turning the radio down.

For a second, he thinks he must have fallen asleep while he was waiting, because what he sees when he looks in the window surely must be a dream.

Stunning brown eyes like glowing honey and sweet little nose, slightly upturned; a shapely pink mouth, bottom-lip pierced by a thin black hoop that he's worrying with the tip of his tongue as he smiles a gorgeous hello.

He's the most beautiful man Derek's ever seen.

And he’s shirtless.

Running Down a Dream by tryslora

He wakes into an unknown room and without his memories. The name they give him tastes unfamiliar on his tongue, and he wonders if he'll ever find the memory-eating aliens that did this to him, or the magical spell to give him back his life.

Stacking Up by bravelittlesoldier

Stiles is working in the basement of the Library of Congress and is feeling his social skills quickly deteriorate. Then along comes a new librarian working at Circulation who is most definitely a male model. Maybe its time to start re-socializing.

The Pope Would Brag by Hatteress

The thing is, Derek’s really, really hot. Like, insane levels of attraction. What with the leather and the cheekbones and the stubble and the ass — oh god, that ass — Stiles can’t really be blamed, at all for freaking bragging.

Now if only his college friends actually believed Derek existed.

Up and Coming by Fanhag102

Stiles and Derek work in the same building and every day ride up in the elevator together.

That is pretty much the extent of their relationship—until one day the elevator breaks down, trapping the two of them inside and maybe forcing them to admit to each other that the attraction is mutual.

Voldemort and Jean Valjean (Walk into a Coffee Shop) by PsychicPineapple

So sue him, Stiles had a stupid habit of giving out goofy names at coffee joints.

**

‘Name?’ He stood with his sharpie at the ready.

‘Voldemort,’ Stiles answered without missing a beat.

With metal on our tongues (we’ll be dressed in rags) by Rena

Double-oh agents are a piece of work; Stiles knew that before he became MI6's new quartermaster. It's cool, he survived Lydia in college, he can deal with stubborn, reckless, trigger-happy operatives. Derek Hale, though, is definitely trying to live up to his predecessor's legacy and make Stiles' life more difficult.

AKA the one where Derek is 007 and Stiles is Q and they bitch and angst their way to a Happy Ending.

XXX by foxtricks

Stiles wears Xs on his hands, and Derek wants to know why.

You Can Cry Wolf, But Stop Running by iamursforevrmre

Derek Hale is the third baseman for the Los Angeles Dodgers. Stiles doesn’t know why he has an apparent thing for third basemen and he has no clue why he’s even watching the Dodgers. He’s a Mets fan.

Zoo Security by Inell

Derek gets a call to come pick up Stiles and their daughter from the zoo security office.

[carmenlire]

Strange Bedpersons

read on ao3

Alec signs on the dotted line with a flourish, looking up and subtly flexing his hand. That was the last piece out of a veritable mountain of paperwork.

Ragnor, Cat, and Magnus look proud, satisfied. Ragnor leans over the conference table, hand outstretched.

“And now it’s official. Welcome aboard, Alec.”

Alec shakes his hand, then Cat’s. He saves Magnus for last and there’s a beat where neither move. Magnus looks proud, like the cat who’s caught the canary as he extends his own hand.

“Well it looks like we’re finally colleagues, darling. How are you feeling?”

Ragnor rolls his eyes, Catarina elbowing him in the side as Alec takes Magnus’s hand. It’s less handshake and more them just holding hands, giving the barest appearance of professionalism.

“It feels like a long time coming. You’ve been trying to get me to leave the prosecutor’s office for years, babe.”

Magnus grins and it’s his courtroom smile-- sharp, a showing of teeth.

“I just think that such an esteemed lawyer such as yourself would enjoy the private sector a bit more.”

Rolling his eyes, Alec sends him a dry look but he’s interrupted before he can reply.

“As enthralling as it is watching you two be disgustingly in love, I have a meeting in here in fifteen minutes. Go somewhere else and finish this,” Ragnor orders.

Everyone laughs, though Alec follows Magnus out of the conference room, Cat close behind. They all pause in the corridor and Catarina lays a hand on his shoulder.

“Congratulations, Alec. It really is great to have you join our team. Your record is stirling and with you so close, maybe Magnus will finally get some work done,” she teases.

Alec smiles, but his tone is serious when he replies, “Thank you for hiring me on. I was looking for a change and Magnus loves working here. It’ll be nice to start a new job with some familiar faces.”

“Yes, I imagine you’ll settle in quickly. I’ll let Magnus give you the tour and show you to your office. Don’t forget, we’re treating you to lunch this afternoon.”

Alec nods and Cat walks to her own office. Fell and Loss were a law firm in the city with an exemplary reputation. Cat and Ragnor had started the firm ten years ago and Magnus had been hired when he’d tired of being a criminal defense attorney. They’d all gone to law school together, Ragnor being a best man at Alec and Magnus’s wedding a few years ago.

Magnus had been trying to lure Alec to the firm for awhile now, but Alec had remained obstinate. He liked being a public defender. He found satisfaction in his job but he’d been growing disillusioned. He’d finally taken Magnus up on his offer and he was officially done working in the public sphere. His new job would involce meting out justice to big corporations, protecting the average citizen and Alec couldn’t remember the last time he’d felt so rejuvenated.

It was an added perk that he’d be working with his husband.

Magnus leads Alec through the townhouse that Catarina and Ragnor had bought and renovated for their firm. The first floor is for the secretary, interns, and paralegals. The second floor are the lawyers' offices-- Cat, Ragnor, Magnus, Lydia, and now Alec-- with the third and final floor designed with private meeting areas and glassed-in conference rooms.

It’s a tidy building with character. While Alec will always remember his cramped office at the courthouse with fondness, he can’t deny that he loves this new space.

“So when will I get my first cases,” Alec asks.

Magnus hums, going down the stairs and taking him directly to his new office that overlooks the outside patio and garden. “I imagine by the end of this week you’ll have a few case files. There’s one in particular that came in last week that I think you’ll enjoy. It’s about a rent-controlled property and the new owners are absolute buffoons--”

Magnus breaks off as Alec leans close and kisses him.

It’s fast, little more than a peck and when Alec steps back Magnus blinks, surprised. “What was that for, Alexander?”

Alec hums, pulling Magnus to the window and throwing an arm over his shoulder. They both look outside for a minute. The courtyard is shared with the townhouse across from them and they watch as a mother and daughter play for a few minutes.

“I’m just happy,” Alec says. “You know that I was starting to feel like the prosecutor’s office was suffocating me. It’s nice to be away from that. I’m ready for the next stage.” He leans down, tilts his head toward his husband. “Thanks for putting in a good word.”

Magnus sways into him, wrapping a hand around his waist. Smiling, he says, “I’m glad you’re happy, love. You’re a brilliant lawyer but you were growing a little stagnant at City Hall. Thank you for accepting. As for putting in a good word, not only does your record speak for itself, but I am partner, you know. Ragnor and Cat readily accepted my proposal. Really, I'm surprised they didn't come to you first and try to lure you in.”

The two of them stand in the quiet a moment for breaking apart.

“Well while you get settled in, I actually have work to do. I have to be in court in an hour, so I’ll see you later tonight?”

Alec nods as he makes his way behind his new desk, an ornate dark wood piece that looks like it weighs have a ton.

“Sounds great, babe. I’ll pick up takeout from that Ethiopian place around the corner?”

Magnus leans over the desk and gives Alec a quick peck before he’s backing away towards the door. “I can’t wait.”

He pauses at the threshold, looking back over his shoulder with a gleam in his eye. “Welcome, Alexander.”

Alec grins and wave Magnus off, throwing out a quick good luck.

He sits in his office and revels for a moment. He’s thirty-two and ready to tackle something new.

He’s interrupted a little while later while he’s setting up his computer. The man at the door looks like he’s still in law school. He’s wearing a rumpled jacket and crooked bowtie.

“Yes,” Alec prompts when there’s just silence after the knock on his open door.

“Hey man. I’m Simon.”

Alec stands, extending a hand over the desk. “Simon, it’s nice to meet you. I’m Alec--”

“Lightwood, yeah, I know. You’re like a legend at the DA’s office. We actually just went over your case on the Valentine Pyramid Scheme last semester in my legal tax class.”

Alec smiles a little at the exuberant enthusiasm. That case had been a hallmark of his career a few years ago. It’d been all over the news networks and had been sensationalized from the start.

“Well, it’s nice to know that I’ve earned a formidable reputation. What can I do for you, Simon?”

Simon plops down in the chair across from him without ceremony, sitting on the edge. “Nothing, really. It's more about what I can do for you. I’m an intern here while I get my J.D. and am personally assigned to you. I have other responsibilities, but I’m really here for you-- research, drafting, whatever you need. Just thought I’d pop in and let you know.”

Alec settles back in his own chair. “Thank you. That’s great to hear. How far are you into your program?”

“Oh, I have almost two years left. I just finished my first year. I applied for this internship on a whim, you know? My best friend Clary said that I didn’t have anything to lose, and she was right, so I applied and Cat and Ragnor were nice enough to take me on even though the only other experience I had was as a waiter at the Golden Panda--”

“That’s great, Simon,” Alec cuts Simon off. The kid seems nice enough and if he’d been hired on then he definitely has the credentials, but there’s already a headache brewing behind his eyes.

He shoots him an apologetic look. “I don’t have anything for you yet, but I should have something in a few days. Do you have things to work on in the interim?”

Simon nods, pushing his glasses up with one finger at the same time. “Of course. There’s a stack of briefs I need to file downstairs and Mr. Bane wants me to sit in on a call later.”

“Mr. Bane?”

“Magnus. He’s a partner here. Raphael is on vacation this week so I’m filling in. Have you met him yet?”

Alec lips quirk up. “I think we spoke earlier. Do you know him well?”

Shaking his head, Simon says, “Not really. He’s really nice but doesn’t really discuss his personal life with the interns. I just know that he’s known Cat and Ragnor for, like, ever and that he’s married.”

Alec grins. He just can’t help himself. “He’s never said anything about his husband?”

Simon doesn't notice Alec's slip-up at not simply asking about a spouse. Instead, he makes a show of thinking, even going so far as rubbing his chin pensively. Finally, he just shakes his head again. “Nah, not really. I just know that he looks good in a suit and is the best in his field.”

Alec has to bite his lip to keep from laughing. Instead, he raises a brow. “Oh?”

Simon nods as he stands up, tries to smooth out his jacket. “Yeah. There’s this maroon suit he wears sometimes and every time he does, Magnus comes into the office and talks about it for, like, fifty minutes straight. Ragnor actually hit him with a newspaper once when he wouldn’t stop talking about it.”

Filing that useful tidbit away for later, Alec prompts, “And he’s good in his field?”

Shrugging, Simon just says, “Apparently, he’s a hotshot but I don’t know what he does. He’s probably a banker or something, who knows. They don’t pay me the small bucks to know everything.” Under his breath, he continues, “Though they wouldn’t even need to pay me. I love office gossip as much as the next person.”

Smiling, Alec nods at Simon. “Thanks for the information. It’s always nice to gain a little insight on your coworkers.”

Edging toward the door, Simon trips over, what appears to Alec, nothing. “Sure, no problem boss. I’m here to help. If you need anything, my extension is 852 or just yell down the stairs. Though, honestly, I might not hear you if you do that because Ragnor lets me listen to band demos and there are a lot of drums and guitars--’

“I’ll let you know if I need you, Simon. Don’t worry.”

With that, Simon leaves and Alec relaxes.

Computer forgotten, Alec spins around, staring at his wall of empty bookshelves as he thinks about what he just heard. While he didn’t think that Magnus gushed about him at work, he thought that his colleagues would’ve at least known his name.

It’s an interesting puzzle and one he’s keen to work out but Alec didn’t get where he was by dawdling and daydreaming. After a few self-indulgent moments, he returns to getting his office back in order.

The rest of the day is uneventful. Lunch with Cat is great as always, both of them talking about high profile cases in the headlines and what his next few weeks look like.

He finishes his work day by unpacking a box of office memorabilia, including a picture of Magnus and him on vacation from last summer and a mug that Izzy made him when she was fifteen and in her creative pottery phase.

He leaves at six sharp, taking a last look around his office with a curl of satisfaction and warmth before turning the lights off. Magnus would’ve gone home straight after court, so Alec heads to the restaurant, picking up his takeout order and then heading directly home.

Magnus is fresh from the shower when he walks into their loft and calls out a greeting. Coming to the foyer where Alec’s taking off his coat, Magnus leans in and kisses him, taking one of the takeout bags.

“Good evening, darling. How was your first day at Fell and Loss?”

The two make their way to the kitchen where they dump the food and start taking out containers.

“It went well. I settled in a little, made my office look a little more homey and a little less artificial. What about you? How’s the Aldertree case going?”

Magnus rolls his eyes as he walks over to a drawer, pulling out silverware. “It’s going well. The man is a snake and not even an intelligent one. No, he’s not a viper. He’s one of those pathetic garden snakes that don’t even see the shovel coming until they’ve been decapitated. What a dumbass,” Magnus sneers.

Alec just looks at him. “That was. . . visceral, babe.”

Shrugging, Magnus opens one of the containers and dumps it out onto one of the plates Alec had taken down from the cupboard. “It is what it is. That man infuriates me and there’s no way that he’s winning, not on my watch. He’s either going to pay through the nose or plead guilty or do both.”

Alec grins, seeing Magnus fired up. Abandoning his food for a minute, he takes the few steps over to his husband, wrapping his arms around his waist. “Seeing you so passionate is kind of hot, you know,” he murmurs.

Magnus bites back a smile as his arms go around Alec’s neck, pulling him down just a few inches. “Is that so?”

“Yeah,” Alec whispers, gaze falling to Magnus’s mouth. The two of them erase the distance, kissing. They’ve shared a million kisses just like this and Alec loves every one.

They break apart a few minutes later, Magnus huffing out a laugh as Alec cops a feel when he turns around and grabs their plates, bringing them to the dining table.

“Smooth, Alexander,” he says wryly.

Alec shrugs, unrepentant, and pours a couple of glasses of wine, taking those over to the table, too.

They share dinner, talking about their days and flitting from topic to topic, decompressing. It’s honestly Alec’s favorite part of the day and he settles in his seat as they both push their plates away, focusing on their drinks now that they’ve finished the meal.

In a lull, Alec opens his mouth but closes it without saying anything. Magnus watches him with fond amusement before asking, “Were you about to say something, dear?”

Alec jerks a shoulder. In the grand scheme of things, it isn’t a big deal but there’s a curiosity that’s been gnawing at him all day. Without thinking, he blurts out, “Why doesn’t anyone know that you’re married?”

Looking a little taken aback, Magnus freezes a moment. “What?”

Taking a fortifying sip of wine, Alec drains his glass. “I talked to Simon today and he didn’t know anything about your husband. Not even his name. Doesn’t that strike you as odd?”

Magnus is still before he relaxes, setting his glass down and standing up. He walks around the table until he’s next to Alec and pushes until he takes the hint, moving his chair back. Magnus settles in his lap, one hand going to Alec’s neck, the other to his chest.

He tilts his head. “Are you annoyed that I don’t blab about my beautiful husband to the temps? Hurt?”

Alec doesn’t say anything, just looks down, fiddling with the hem on Magnus’s shirt. Not letting him evade, Magnus lays a finger under Alec’s chin, tipping his head up until he can look in his eyes. “Talk to me, Alexander.”

Reclining a little, Alec lets his hands fall to Magnus’s side, sliding under his shirt to graze smooth skin. “I don’t know, babe. I just feel like it’s normal for coworkers to know a little something about each other. They don’t need to be best friends but maybe knowing the name of a spouse would be casual enough conversation.”

Magnus’s eyes are soft as leans forward, kissing Alec on the forehead, both cheeks, his nose, and finally a light peck on his mouth.

“Darling, I think you’re skipping over a pertinent fact here. You were talking to Simon. Cat and Ragnor know and I’d say that everyone else has probably heard me talk about my lovely Alexander. Simon, however, is a little dense and a lot oblivious. He’s always listening to his band’s demos and mostly lives in his own world. We could probably hold hands and walk right past him and he wouldn’t even notice.”

A little bit of the tension seeps out of Alec at Magnus’s calm explanation. He has to admit that it makes sense. He didn’t get the impression that Simon was the most observant.

“Yeah?"

“Yeah.”

It’s Alec’s turn to lean forward and kiss Magnus. It’s soft and light, a string of kisses that feel like home, especially after so long.

It’s not until later that night in bed that Alec picks the topic back up. Settled together, he asks, “Should we tell him? Say anything?”

Magnus doesn’t ask for clarification; he’s never needed it with Alec. He kisses Alec’s shoulder, strokes a thumb along his husband’s stomach and cuddles closer. “I think we could have some fun if we wanted to, darling. What do you say? Are you up for it?”

Alec turns around until they’re facing each other. He grins. “Okay, let’s have some fun.”

What follows are long weeks of Alec becoming increasingly incredulous as Simon Lewis proves to be the most oblivious lawyer he’s ever met. Magnus and Alec walk into work holding hands and Simon idly remarks, “Oh, that’s nice that you’re showing the new guy around Mr. Bane.”

Ragnor and Cat roll their eyes and all but throw themselves to the floor when Alec and Magnus engage in barely concealed flirting while getting into a heated discussion about criminal real estate fraud and Simon eagerly compliments Alec on his “willingness to stand up to your boss. I mean, he’s not like you’re supervisor, but he is partner and you’ve been here, like, seven minutes. I wouldn’t have the guts to argue with Mr. Bane and you actually proved your point!”

The game was spinning out much longer than Alec had anticipated and every time Magnus and he were blatantly obvious and Simon didn’t pick up on it, Magnus would just shoot him a maddening grin, knowing that Alec was gnashing his teeth.

He had to admit that it was entertaining, though.

Finally, one evening almost three months into his employment, Simon caught Alec checking out Magnus’s ass as he got new copy paper for the printer. After Magnus left, Simon leaned far too much into Alec’s space and whispered, “Dude, what are you doing? He’s married.”

Alec closes his eyes for a long moment and when he opens them he sees Simon looking anxiously around his office, as if waiting for the mysterious husband to magically appear and beat both their asses.

“Simon,” Alec says, extending far more patience than he’d ever needed in the courtroom. “I think it’ll be okay.”

Simon shakes his head furiously. “No, I don’t think it will be! Magnus is my boss and I respect him. I won’t let you cause any issues for him and his husband. I thought more of you.”

Ah, how can Alec be mad at that? Simon was only twenty-two and earnestly looking out for a friend. He nods, looking appropriately chastised. “You’re right, Simon. It’s very disrespectful for someone to try and come between a married couple. I won’t do anything to hurt Magnus’s marriage.”

He claps Simon on the shoulder. “You’re a good person, Simon. We’re lucky to have someone like you around here.”

Looking mollified Simon straightens, tugging on perennially wrinkled shirtsleeves. He nods once. “As long as you know that Magnus is totally in love with his husband and that even if you did make a move, he’d eviscerate you on the spot. Even if you are a very attractive man, you don’t stand a chance, Alec.”

Alec hides his smile and the butterflies that spring up as Simon warns Alec off. He might be a bit of a pain in the ass, but he’s a sweet kid.

Which makes it all the more unfortunate when he walks into Alec’s office and overhears, “Now Mr. Bane, I believe we still have a small matter to discuss--”

“Oh no, Alexander, I think it’s actually quite large--”

Alec’s bark of laughter is cut off as Magnus lunges forward and kisses him to within an inch of his life, unbuttoning and pushing the maroon suit jacket off his shoulders until it lands in a heap on the floor.

Alec doesn’t notice as his door is pushed open. He’s too busy pushing Magnus against his desk, running one hand through his husband’s hair while the other goes to the fly on Magnus’s slacks, expertly opening them.

He doesn’t hear Simon start, “Mr. Lightwood, I found that textbook you wanted on judiciary--”

What he does hear is Simon’s indignant squawk as the book in question falls to the floor with a loud thud.

Magnus and Alec break apart, breathing hard. Alec looks up, beyond annoyed. “What the hell, Simon--”

Simon doesn’t let him finish as he points an accusatory finger in his direction. “Hey! Dude, not cool. We talked about this, like, six hours ago! Magnus is married and you just became the other man. How does that feel, Mr. Lightwood.” His voice drops. “You should be ashamed of yourself.”

Alec closes his eyes and lets his head fall to Magnus’s shoulder. Magnus’s hand comes up on autopilot and pats his back in a soothing gesture.

“And you,” Simon cries, attention now on Magnus.

“What about your hotshot husband, Mr. Bane. The one that you’re always mooning over? I thought you loved him and here you are with a mistress. I am so disappointed in you. You were my law superhero and now you’re nothing but a two-bit villain.”

Magnus hums, smiling a little as he shares a look with Alec. “Darling, don’t you think it’s time we tell him?”

Incensed, Simon yells, “Tell me what? That this place has become a bordello when I wasn’t looking? That no man is infallible?”

Alec tilts his head back and stares at the ceiling.

“Look, Simon--”

“What the bloody hell is going on here?”

Everyone turns to look as Ragnor arches a brow, looking imperious as he clutches a folder in the hallway. Ragnor, for his part, just looks amused. With a dispassionate glance he says, “I thought that I told you two no canoodling at the office--”

“It’s after seven,” Alec says defensively. “We thought everyone had gone home by now.”

“Hey, wait a minute,” Simon all but shrieks. “You knew about this?”

Ragnor, looking extremely put upon, just says, “Did I know what, young intern? That Magnus and Alec have the exceptionally annoying habit of being unable to keep their hands off each other? It’s my plight in life to have seen far more of them than I’ve ever wanted.”

Simon gapes like a fish. “But-- but-- Magnus is married? This is a really big deal!”

“Simon,” Magnus finally breaks in. “I am married and I’ve never cheated on my husband.”

Simon’s head looks like it’s about to implode and Alec grins. Now that he’s cooled off a little, he can see the humor in the situation. He gestures to Magnus. “We’ve been married for six years, Simon.”

Mouth opening and closing without a sound, Simon finally manages, “You never said anything--”

“We walk in together every morning.”

“You’ve seen my hold his hand, for Christ’s sake--”

“I’m wearing the suit that you said Magnus loves--”

“Wait,” Magnus interrupts. “Simon told you that I love this suit?”

Having the good grace to look sheepish, Alec admits, “He might’ve mentioned that you always used to talk about it when I wore it before.”

“So, that’s why you’ve been wearing it so much lately! I thought you were just in a fashion rut--”

Alec shakes his head fondly as he leans forward and kisses Magnus. When he pulls back he says, his hands go to Magnus’s lapels, smoothing them out. Voice serious but eyes laughing he says, “I have to do something to keep you interested, Magnus. You’re a very desirable man and I’ve heard it on good authority that there’s someone after your affections.”

Magnus grins as his heads settle on Alec’s hips. “Is that so, darling? Surely they know that I’ve been completely in love with my husband since he asked me out that first time in law school.”

The two of them forget about everything as the lean in and share a lingering kiss. Ragnor just shakes his head and grabs Simon by the shoulder, dragging him out of the office and down the stairs. He knows from painful past experience that they do not need to see whatever is about to happen.

Ragnor doesn’t say a word, just deposits his wayward, unassuming intern at his desk and leaves with the file he’d forgotten.

Simon sits in silence for a few minutes before quietly banging his head on his desk a dozen times.

He hops right up, though, and books it to the door when he starts hearing noises from upstairs.

When he makes partner eight years later, he has yet to live down this debacle.

[themurphyzone]

Spend the Day With Someone You Love Ch 6

Savannah and Brick look weird to me. I love their character designs, but I guess I kind of got used to the more unconventionally attractive types. Maybe that’s just me.

Ch 6- Lights, Camera, Traction! Part 2: Though the Parting Hurts

“They’re calling us!” Balthazar hissed. “We need to go, Arohbeohte!” 

Arohbeohte hugged a column, eyes squeezed shut. Her strength was causing small cracks to appear on the ceiling. She creaked pathetically. Balthazar rubbed his temple. He didn’t even know robots could develop stage fright.

“It’s only five minutes. It’ll end before you know it,” Vinnie reassured her, smiling calmly. 

Arohbeohte didn’t look convinced. She gripped the column even more tightly, the base shaking as it was slowly uprooted from the ground. 

“Try to imagine everyone in the audience is invisible,” Balthazar suggested. 

“I like to use the underwear trick,” Vinnie added. “What if your crush was watching? You’d want to give it it your best shot, right?” 

Arohbeohte visibly relaxed, keeping a palm braced on the column as she steeled her nerves. Finally, she nodded. 

“Rebecca had a case of last-minute stage fright,” Balthazar explained to Ferb, who was struggling to secure a thick rope to a handle. “Poor dear. We’re terribly sorry for the delay.” 

Ferb simply pointed to the stage, momentarily letting go of the rope. It flew through the air, hitting a light which sparked and set the cables on fire. Ferb scrambled for the nearest fire extinguisher.

“Sorry!” Vinnie called. 

“Arthur, Frank, and Rebecca, everybody!” Phineas waved to them before vacating the stage and sitting down beside the judges. 

Balthazar cleared his throat before starting, turning to Arohbeohte. “Lydia, I-um, oh dear,” he blushed out of embarrassment. Silently cursing Vinnie and his inexplicable love for teen movies, he continued. “I-uh, have always loved you since, um-about a year ago when you were bravely shoveling mystery meat down your throat. Yeah, that was really brave.” He pulled at the collar of his gaudy tropical shirt, sweating. 

“No, Lydia! Don’t go with this dork!” Vinnie threw his arm out dramatically. “I have the IQ of half a sock puppet but I have a cool car imported from afar! And I don’t wear ascots unlike this loser who’s so loser-y all the other losers call him a loser and decide to sacrifice him to their loser deity!” 

“What? That doesn’t make sense!” Balthazar broke character, confused.

“Roll with it,” Vinnie whispered. “I’m the jerky star quarterback remember?” 

“Fine,” Balthazar gritted his teeth and swallowed his pride. “He mistreated all six of his ex-girlfriends, Lydia! Including that popular girl! You know which one I mean!” 

Arohbeohte glanced between them, a hand rubbing her chin in contemplation. She motioned for Vinnie to speak.

“Why would you go with him? What’s he got? All he does is stay in the school library! And he has bad clothes, I’m willing to bet half my inheritance he doesn’t wash his underwear! Not to mention the teeth, and the hair, and the um, eyes,” Vinnie trailed off, before realizing what he said. “Wait, no, blue eyes are attractive to girls, forget the last bit.” 

“So what if I have no social life? I can fix that! Um, we can read Shakespeare together! How about that Tybalt character, eh?” Balthazar elbowed Arohbeohte, grinning awkwardly.

Arohbeohte nodded, turning to Vinnie in case he could come up with a better answer. 

“I have a designer tuxedo that probably costs more than your entire family’s life savings!” Vinnie shouted. “And it’s silk too! So, Lydia, who do you want?”

Arohbeohte threw her arms out and hugged Vinnie. His eyes bulged from the force of the embrace, desperately clawing for air. “C-can’t b-b-breathe,” he wheezed, collapsing once Arohbeohte released him. “Think I’m gonna lose a lung here!”

“We’re done!” Balthazar called to the judges. “I think we’ll stop here so my ah-partner, doesn’t cough up any vital organs.” 

“Round of applause to Arthur, Frank, and Rebecca!” Phineas shouted. Nobody in the audience clapped, except for a kid in a sweatervest. “Well, you certainly stunned them into silence! Judges’ thoughts?” 

“Too cliche for my liking,” Baljeet said, giving a thumbs down. “It reminded me way too much of a bad soap opera combined with a teen movie. Zero points on acting. Nilch on presentation.”

“I liked the quiet one,” Isabella smiled at Arohbeohte. “But Arthur, you and Frank need acting lessons pronto. And that shirt, man. You aren’t on a honeymoon to Hawaii! One point for acting. I can’t give negative points, so I’ll have to settle for zero on presentation.” 

“It was horrible,” Buford crossed his arms. “Zero on both categories.” 

“Well, there goes this plan,” Vinnie commented as they walked off the stage. “It was fun though, right?” 

Arohbeohte nodded, nudging Balthazar. He looked up from his fuming. “I suppose we’ll have no choice but to report to the boss. Another mission, failed.” 

“But the important thing is we had fun!” Vinnie said. “And Arohbeohte gained confidence!” 

Balthazar sighed. He was not looking forward to making their report.

Mr. Block shook an empty mixed-nuts can at them threateningly. “Delaware. Cankadore. Remind me of your mission.” 

“Save the world,” Balthazar muttered, resisting the urge to deck his boss. 

“That would be a competent time traveler’s mission,” Mr. Block growled. “Yours.”

“Enter a contest and win so we could get the grand prize,” Vinnie replied. “Though i don’t get what’s so grand about perishables-”

“Food aren’t the only things in this time-forsaken future that are perishable. Teleport H54T9U to the Time Travel Bureau at once. I don’t hold out much hope for it anyway. It was just the runt of the batch and was practically assigned to janitor from the moment of creation,” Mr. Block ordered.

“Her name is Arohbeohte. A as in appendix, r as in rainbow, o as-,” Balthazar elbowed Vinnie so he didn’t waste Mr. Block’s time. Though Balthazar suspected Mr. Block thought everything was a waste of time. “And she’s been a great companion. We are not sending her back until you promise to call her by that name and treat her well. And let her confess to her crush.” 

“A crush?” Mr. Block raised an eyebrow and laughed obnoxiously, to Vinnie and Balthazar’s growing irritation. “On who? A tin can? Maybe a really broken down car?” 

“You will not patronize her like that, sir,” Balthazar said. “Her crush is as valid as anyone else’s.” Vinnie stared at him, his jaw nearly hitting the floor in shock. “Furthermore, aside from a few hiccups, she has proven herself to be a trusted ally in protecting pistachios.” 

“Speaking of protecting pistachios, whose idea was it to commission these robots for that sort of thing anyway?” Vinnie asked. “Wouldn’t they be more useful in the taking over the world department with lasers, death rays, and other cool weapons?”

“It was a bet. My final order for today is to send H54T9U to headquarters immediately,” Mr. Block growled. “Block, signing off. Gerald owes me a hundred bucks.” 

As soon as the communicator switched off, Vinnie crushed Balthazar in an embrace. “I knew you cared, Balthy! You just don’t like to admit it!” Balthazar’s mustache quivered as he struggled to escape. 

“I could hardly let him insult Arohbeohte,” Balthazar retorted quickly. “He did not witness her destructive capabilities firsthand.” 

They broke apart, Vinnie poking him in the chest. Balthazar did not like that knowing smirk that spread across Vinnie’s face. “You know how burnt marshmallows have a kind of charm to some people?”

“No,” Balthazar grumbled, turning away so Vinnie couldn’t see his blush. 

“Well, first you roast them until they’re all brown and unappealing on the outside, but once you bite that part off there’s a bunch of mushy, gooey sugar in the middle. And then you can stick it into a s’more or just eat it off the stick,” Vinnie grinned. 

Balthazar groaned against Arohbeohte’s metal knee. I am not a burnt marshmallow, I am not a burnt marshmallow, he repeated to himself. Ugh, must he always use food metaphors so freely? 

Once Balthazar cleared his head, he realized they had no choice but to send Arohbeohte back. They couldn’t exactly do much since they were at the bottom of the pecking order. “Arohbeohte, we cannot defy Mr. Block’s order. We have to send you back to headquarters.” 

“Make sure you eat your veggies, and brush before bed, and wipe your feet before you step inside a building-” Vinnie sniffled into a tissue. “I’ll miss you!” Arohbeohte lifted Vinnie up to her chest, placing a giant hand on his back. Balthazar concentrated on a small pebble, just as unwilling to say goodbye. Then Arohbeohte suddenly picked him up too, squeezing him tightly. 

Balthazar hesitantly patted Vinnie’s back. “She’s a big girl. She can take care of herself. Excluding random accidental acts of destruction of course.” He offered Vinnie a small handkerchief, which was promptly ruined by tears and snot. “Keep it,” Balthazar wrinkled his nose when Vinnie tried to give it back.  

After an hour, the entire group calmed down enough so that Balthazar could properly calibrate the Temporal Transporter to send Arohbeohte to headquarters. “Take care!” Vinnie fistbumped Arohbeohte one last time. “Don’t forget to write!” 

Balthazar opened the channel, a swirling blue portal materializing behind Arohbeohte. “So long,” he said softly. “Don’t let them give you a hard time.” 

Arohbeohte nodded, waving goodbye before she slowly walked into the portal. Balthazar mentally counted to ten before switching the Temporal Transporter off, the vortex dissipating into thin air. Balthazar’s arm dropped to his side in disbelief, the Transporter cracking slightly as it hit the concrete.

They were a duo again.

One week later, they had at least five more failed missions under their belt. Balthazar did not want to think about the giant model of an aglet that crushed the pistachio silo they were supposed to be protecting from hungry tourists. 

They had decided to take an evening off, just to recuperate for a while. “Man, this movie is terrible,” Vinnie commented. “Ducky Momo was not meant to be live-action in the slightest.”

Balthazar shifted his position on the cheap recliner, groaning when a spring dug into his back. “Blasted thing,” he muttered. 

Just as the creepy live-action Ducky Momo opened his stubby arms and slowly waddled to an incredibly scared child, the screen suddenly filled with static, an image of Mr. Block replacing the movie. “Is there a reason for your improper conduct?” he scowled, not missing a beat with his insults.

Balthazar and Vinnie scrambled to their feet, raising their arms in a hasty salute. 

Mr. Block scoffed. “Sloppy. I’ve seen earthworms do better salutes.”

“Is there a particular reason why you called, sir? We already met our failure quota for the day,” Balthazar asked, unwilling to stomach more reminders of their incompetence. 

“Cavendish, you’re actually starting to recognize that you’re at the bottom! This is too perfect,” Mr. Block smirked. “There’s a letter addressed to you. Though I can’t imagine who would be writing to you in the first place. Check your cabinet.”

Vinnie opened the cabinet that doubled as a transporter and held up a large envelope that smelled of motor oil and pistachios. 

“At least the new secretary didn’t mess this one up. Expect a briefing at 10 sharp tomorrow,” the image flickered, replaced by the ending credits of the movie. 

“A letter?” Balthazar wondered out loud. “Nobody in the future uses letters anymore.” 

“I think it’s sweet,” Vinnie commented. “Hey, Arohbeohte didn’t forget us after all! I was so worried about her!” 

Balthazar took note of the childish, blocky penmanship on the front of the envelope. “TO VENI DADKOTE AND BELFICZAR CEVEDADSCH,” he read, making a mental note to teach Arohbeohte how to spell their names if they ever met again. 

“She called me dad! I’m a Dad, Balthy! And so are you!” Vinnie yelped, breaking the seal and pulling out the contents. “Holy moly, we gotta start playing catch, setting a chore list, dress up, sign her up for the city’s soccer league-”

“And how, pray tell, do you plan to do that?” Balthazar asked, stunned that she called him dad when he hadn’t thought he’d done anything that could be remotely considered good parenting.  

Vinnie shrugged. “People are a lot more accepting of robots now.” 

Vinnie carefully unfolded several sheets of paper, each containing the same large messy scrawl of the envelope. A photo was hidden inside the last one. They studied it in silence, taking in how happy Arohbeohte looked beside her crush, a much taller robot clearly built for defense and outfitted with dangerous weapons. Their arms were wrapped around each other, each flashing the victory sign at the camera. 

HI, HOW ARE YOU?

THANK YOU FOR THAT FUN DAY WE HAD! CAN WE DO IT AGAIN? HERE’S A PHOTO OF ME AND TITAN! YOU SHOULD MEET HIM SOMETIME! DADKOTE, I’M GLAD YOU TOLD ME TO CONFESS. I WOULDN’T HAVE DONE IT IF YOU HADN’T SUPPORTED ME! CEVEDADSCH, I DON’T THINK YOU LIKED ME AT FIRST AND I’M SORRY IF I MESSED UP BUT THEN YOU WOULDN’T LET THAT MEANIE CALL ME MEAN NAMES AND I STILL LOVE BOTH OF YOU LOTS! HUGS! 

WITH LOVE, EROBEATE

Balthazar wiped his glasses. He hadn’t treated Arohbeohte kindly. He hadn’t. So why was he still missing her? 

“You can always say sorry,” Vinnie suggested. He had always been the more perceptive one. “You’re just rough around the edges like-”

“If you’re going to compare me to a burnt marshmallow again, then you’re sleeping outside,” Balthazar warned. 

“Shutting up,” Vinnie replied quickly. 

“I believe we have a letter to write. And perhaps we could find a picture frame tomorrow,” Balthazar said. 

“I’m telling her about the aglet,” Vinnie smirked. 

“I’ll write about the training incident where you collapsed after a few hurdles,” Balthazar said. 

“That one time we set a superior’s eyebrows on fire,” Vinnie said. 

Balthazar allowed his lips to quirk upwards. “A new troublemaker in the works,” he chuckled. The Bureau was going to have their hands full.

School caught up to me. There will be one more chapter after this, stay tuned! 

[bigskydreaming]

@nyxelestia

So we had this very same argument more than a year ago, and it looks like neither of our viewpoints has changed so I’m not sure what good this will do, but you have a lot of influence in the TW fandom yourself, esp in corners I won’t go into, so I’m gonna try.

Please, for the love of god, stop mitigating abuse with abuse apologism arguments in defense of characters. That is what you are doing, and I will not let you pretend otherwise because you are putting textbook abuse apologism on paper, time and time again, while calling out abuse in other aspects of canon. And this dichotomy means all those who believe you and accept your POV when you point out abuse in one instance are equally inclined to believe you when you point to where Derek Hale abused various characters and say ‘not abuse, because he was a victim himself, he had good intentions, and other characters did way worse.’

All of those last three things are true. None of them actually alter his actions. None of them are mutually exclusive with abuse.

You can not look at abuse through the POV of the abuser. You can not do it. You have to look at it through the lens of the person being abused, because they are the one that needs defending, they are the one the harm was done to.

So when Derek beat the crap out of Scott in the ice rink in Season 2, does the fact that Derek was abused himself magically change the harm done to Scott? You could write essays about how Derek’s life experiences led to him making the choices that told him it was a good idea to beat up Scott in front of his newly minted pack, and a lot of what you have to write might be true and valid. But will any of that, in terms of Scott, change the reality of what Derek did there and how it would contribute to shaping his own life experiences and perception of reality? NOPE.

If I abuse a teenager, as a grown adult, I don’t get to point to my own childhood abuse and say ‘okay but its not that bad because look what happened to meeeeeeeeeeeeee.’ Yeah that shit may be terrible, but so is abusing a teenager. The one does not give you a pass for the other. The one may inform the other, but it doesn’t give you freedom to keep perpetuating the cycle and constantly passing the buck down the line. It might all be true, but explanation DOES NOT EQUAL EXCUSE.

You can point to Derek’s training with Scott, and with Isaac and with Erica and Boyd and say ‘well he had good intentions. He was trying to toughen them up, teach them to survive, and he was doing it the best way he knew how.’ Again, all of that may be true. Its all still irrelevant to the simple question of: did he use his position of greater power, knowledge and experience to harm them, while telling them it was for their own good?

The only thing that matters in determining if it was abuse is if the answer to that question is yes or no.

Every time Scott reacted to Derek’s hurting him during training in S1 with shock, anger and pain - its because he didn’t know Derek was going to do that. Asking someone more experienced than you for help isn’t giving them permission carte blanche to do whatever the hell they want to. Breaking Isaac’s arm to make a point is still breaking Isaac’s arm, no matter what the point is. 

And it doesn’t matter that Derek thought he was doing it to make them stronger, better able to survive. It doesn’t even matter that the beta trio wouldn’t have even needed that ‘training’ if Derek hadn’t recruited them to begin with. It doesn’t even matter that every season post S3 showed us DEREK realizing his own earlier methods had been fucked up and even saying as much to the Alpha twins and to Liam when training and advising them.

All that matters is Scott, Erica, Isaac and Boyd looked to Derek for advice and guidance and help, and Derek delivered that to them in the form of pain and said that’s the best you’re going to get, learn to deal with it, this is your life now.

I can’t even tell you how horrifying this particular line of thought is to me given how much those exact words or a near paraphrasing of them shows up in the trial arguments of every father caught abusing his son and saying ‘it was for his own good, brat needed to be tougher, its a cruel world I’m preparing him for.’

When Derek was ‘merely’ an accessory to what Peter did to Scott in the locker room, when Derek used what he knew (or at least strongly suspected) to be a lie about a werewolf cure to manipulate Scott into helping him, when Derek scared the shit out of Scott in the parking garage and broke his phone - you can point to all of that and say, okay but every other character has done way worse.

And? Your point is?

It is never okay to distract from or explain away harm or culpability in causing harm by pointing wildly around the room and saying ‘well everyone else does it too.’

Again. Might be true. Does not change the fact that harm was still done.

Despite what I just said there, I’m going to indulge that ‘everyone on this show does just as bad’ argument for a second. Let’s bring it back around to Scott. Aka the one character I stan for more than any other.

Let’s bring it back to that scene anti-Scott people love to bring up any time Stiles or Derek or someone else is criticized for hurting other characters.

The scene I hate more than any other, where Scott throws Isaac into the wall of his house in response to learning Isaac wants to date his ex girlfriend. When an alpha reacts violently to his abuse survivor beta saying something he doesn’t want to hear.

I loathe that scene so much, because I full on do not believe that is something Scott would do, I do not believe it made sense for his character, I do not believe it fits any characterization he’s received prior or since, to have him portrayed, even for an instant as ‘an alpha reacting violently to his abuse survivor beta simply saying something he does not want to hear.’

But no matter how much I hate it, or how much I don’t think that fit Scott, you will never ever catch me saying that ‘an abuse survivor beta being thrown into a wall for saying something his alpha doesn’t want to hear’ isn’t a description of an abusive scene, that it isn’t gross and awful and should not be excused.

The reason I can still comfortably stan for Scott and refuse to see him as abusive all while still calling out the actions of characters like Stiles and Derek as abusive is I recognize that the actions of any character on this show must be evaluated on two levels. Through the lens of that character’s characterization, and through the lens of how the writers are choosing to write that character in any given moment. These are fictional characters, yes. Which means they can only say and do what the writers write for them in any particular scene, unlike in real life, where a person throwing another into a wall is solely that person’s responsibility.

But by differentiating my focus, I can do both, I can hold the scene up as something awful and something that I do not need to defend Scott for and WILL NOT, while at the same time putting the blame on the show for being so tone deaf as to write that happening while lighthearted music plays to convince us there’s nothing wrong with this, its just boys being boys.

The reason I do not blame the writing instead of Stiles or Derek when calling them abusive, is because the instances I’m basing their abuse on are frequent, showing up in multiple episodes, in recurring patterns, written by multiple writers. When Stiles lashes out violently at Scott because he holds him personally responsible for what happened to his dad in 5B, that’s not an aberration or a mischaracterization to me, because it pulls straight from the Stiles archives, it is all behavior he has demonstrated before without accountability, without remorse. When Derek trains the beta trio with shock and pain in S2 while saying its for their own good, that’s not an aberration or a mischaracterization because its consistent with what Derek has done and said and believed before, while not having yet been something he’s shown remorse or alternate ways of thinking on yet. 

All of that is different from a one-time occasion where Scott behaves in a way that I do not believe fits with his prior or later characterization.

(And yes, Scott has done other harmful things to people, like using his claws on Corey in S5, but literally nobody has ever pretended this wasn’t as harmful or as dangerous as it was. Scott is called out in canon for it. Lydia gives him shit for it. Corey avoids him and mistrusts him because of it. Nobody is saying ‘oh other characters have done worse, when in fact, they actually have, considering Corey’s interactions with Theo and the Dread Doctors. But even the show regards that as irrelevant to the fact that Scott fucked up with Corey and everyone knows it, and thus its tangential to what I’m describing here.)

And let me be perfectly clear. This is not me saying that there is ANY validity to the argument that ‘if it only happens once, its not abuse’. If it happens once in real life, you should still run the hell away, lest it turn out to be a precursor to more. Because the person who hit you ‘just that one time’ is still going to be the same person tomorrow, whereas in fiction, the character who did it ‘just that one time’ is not necessarily going to be the exact same person when penned by a different writer in the next episode. When it happens in fiction, you’re justified in evaluating if it happened because that’s who the character is, or if its because that’s who the person writing him at the moment feels the character is in this moment.

So if you want to defend Derek’s actions via the angle that he is a fictional character written by humans with their own flaws and biases and blindspots, if you want to use that argument to claim that you don’t think he would have acted a certain way here, or that you don’t think it fits with everything else we know about him to have him behaving a certain way there? That’s one thing. But only if you do it while still acknowledging that what he DID do, on screen, was still abusive, and should be described as such.

If you want to defend a character who has committed harm against another, because yes, that describes just about every character on the show - find a way to do it that doesn’t mitigate the harm they actually caused, or unilaterally absolve them of it.

When I say I don’t view Scott as abusive because of that Isaac scene, and because I recognize the writers’ complicity in it, that is not me saying ‘well that’s not really abusive because Scott’s obviously a victim himself.’

You will NEVER catch me saying crap like that, because underneath those actual words is the implicit subtext:

‘Well its different when the person hurting Isaac has also been abused. Its not as bad. I’m okay with characters hurting Isaac as long as they’re characters I like more, and I can point to their own abuse as a factor.’

You will NEVER catch me saying ‘well Scott has done all kinds of good things for Isaac, he loves and protects him, he lets him stay in his house, this was only one time’ - (FROM AN IN STORY PERSPECTIVE).

Because underneath those words is the implicit subtext:

‘Well everyone fucks up and as long as someone loves and supports someone MOST of the time, when someone like that harms Isaac, its not as bad as if it were say, Jackson or one of the twins. I’m okay with characters hurting Isaac as long as those characters make it up to him at other times and Isaac KNOWS that this character didn’t really mean it and really loves him.’

And you will NEVER catch me saying ‘well every other character on the show has done just as bad, and its far from the worst thing that’s ever happened to Isaac’....

because underneath those words is the implicit subtext:

‘As long as whatever happens to Isaac isn’t as bad as the thing that happened to him before this or after this, its not that bad, he can take it, he’s been through worse. And as long as what a character does to Isaac isn’t as bad as what another character did, well, its not really abuse, its not like it was Derek throwing a glass at his head or Allison stabbing him with Chinese ring daggers or whatever, so why are we even talking about this instead of that, we should only ever focus on the WORST things to happen to a character, anything less than that doesn’t matter.’

How we view shows, how we react in fandom, is not divorced from reality and how we behave in the outside world. Its not okay to talk about things like abuse as though they’re academic and abstract and the way we view a character abusing another in fiction has nothing to do with the way we view a person abusing another in real life. 

Because even with the awareness that shows operate on two levels, the actions of the characters and the writing behind those characters - when fandom’s priority when viewing a character they like abusing another character they like is to say ‘well its not that bad, other people do way worse, they really love that character and didn’t mean that’.....when they prioritize finding IN STORY excuses for the abuser’s behavior, even when they could just as readily direct their concerns at the writing instead....

How many of those same fans do you think, if confronted with an abuse victim in real life, making allegations against someone that fan likes or trusts - 

How many of those same fans do you think will fall back on finding loopholes or ways to mitigate the harm or justify the actions of that person they like and trust and don’t want to believe could really be abusive?

And why do so many people feel comfortable insisting this has nothing to do with the fact that their time in fandom encouraged this behavior by teaching them it was okay and in fact normal and expected to only view abuse through the lens of the abuser, rather than that of their victim, ESPECIALLY if its the abuser they’re more predisposed to liking or have more of a prior connection or attachment to?