#I just can’t come back here it’s still the bad place

[surveillancy]

"favorite trick of the mind" - self aware yandere!shadow milk cookie x reader

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the first time your game glitched, you didn’t think much of it.

maybe cookie run was just having server issues. maybe it was just your phone acting up.

but then it kept happening.

at first, it was minor. your pulls in the gacha system were awful, comically so. ten draws, nothing but commons. another ten, still nothing. every time the cookies lined up, their silhouettes warped, their forms flickering with something... off. and in the briefest moment before they solidified, you swore you saw a pair of luminous, mismatched eyes peering back at you from the void.

then, you started losing in the arena. it wasn’t just bad luck; it was cursed. your team refused to attack, your opponent’s cookies moved erratically, and your health bar drained within seconds, like some unseen force was sapping the life from your game.

it was almost like someone was toying with you.

and then shadow milk cookie spoke.

you had just finished retrying an arena match when your screen froze on him. his model stood alone, but his gaze felt direct, piercing through the screen as though he knew you were watching.

"why do you even bother with those gnats?"

you frowned. that wasn’t one of his official voice lines.

brushing it off, you restarted the game. but the moment you logged back in, there he was again, lingering at the forefront of your kingdom, his mismatched eyes gleaming through the pixelated dusk.

"i’ll just have to make you forget about them all, won’t i?"

the words scrawled across your screen in jagged text before the game crashed entirely.

from then on, he demanded your attention.

every time you tried to focus on another cookie, the game would stutter, freeze, or forcibly drag the screen back to him. attempting to build something in your kingdom? shadow milk cookie would appear, waving his staff, and the structure would glitch out of existence. if you left the app open for too long without interacting with him, the game would suddenly lock you into his most recent beast yeast episode, his eerie form looming far too close to the screen.

when you tried to ignore the game entirely, your phone would not stop buzzing.

notifications flooded in, one after another.

"come back, won't you?"

"there’s no need for your silly mind to think about anyone else."

"i’ll find a way out of here… one day."

at first, you silenced them. but then they started popping up even when your phone was on do not disturb. even when it was powered off.

you tried to uninstall the app.

you tried.

the option was grayed out, unresponsive. your storage settings claimed it wasn’t even installed anymore, but the icon still sat there, pulsing, like a beating heart. then, your screen flickered, and before you could react, the phone burned in your hands.

you gasped, dropping it, and as soon as it hit the floor…

something stepped out.

he was taller than he had any right to be. no longer a tiny cookie, no longer bound to the screen. he towered over you, all sharp edges and shifting shadows, his hair curling like the claws of something eldritch. those eerie, watchful eyes, so many of them, blinking open in the depths of his hair, bore into you with something sickeningly fond.

"ta-da!" shadow milk cookie spread his arms wide, his grin gleaming with too many teeth. "i've finally arrived! applause, applause!!!"

you were frozen. this can’t be real. this can’t be real.

"oh, what’s with that expression?" he pouted mockingly.

"not thrilled to see me? i went through so much trouble to make you notice me, and yet..."

he was in front of you in an instant, his fingers curling under your chin, tilting your face up to meet his mismatched gaze.

"...you were planning to leave me? just like that?"

your breath hitched. you wrenched away, stumbling back toward the door, fumbling with the handle, but it wouldn’t turn. a shimmer of cerulean light locked it in place, his magic sealing the exit with ease.

"ah-ah,"

he tutted, stalking closer, his laughter low and velvety.

"that won't do at all."

you turned, pressing your back against the door, but he was already there, towering over you, caging you in with a smirk full of dark amusement and something far more dangerous.

his fingers ghosted over your wrist before latching on with a grip that was gentle. too gentle, considering the unnatural power he radiated.

"you'll never try to leave me again, my doll. i'll make sure of it."

the whisper of his breath against your skin sent a shudder down your spine.

his smile widened.

the screen had never been enough. the game had never been enough.

now, you were his audience. his obsession. his favorite trick of the mind.

and he had no intention of ever letting you go.

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requests: open!

[scho17]

“It's all Dick can do to not imagine himself in Danny's shoes. Clutching a rescued Jason as they sobbed together. But Danny got to her in time. Dick didn't.”

oh that was wicked work just OW OWWWWWWWWW MY FEELINGS WHAT THE FUCK. I feel like I got sucker punched, granted, I really did ask for it and God, did you deliver.

Tim, in the bg who has absolutely no idea who these two are or what's going on but can really only infer based on what he can barely make sense of/hear over the unintelligible dialogue through the rain: So. Human trafficking?

Neither Danny or Ellie can exactly say no because well, yes, but it's government funded and sanctioned and, well, for it to be considered human trafficking that would imply them to be considered human, sentient, something of that realm which the governing body obviously does not think them capable of being.

DEATH DEFYING!! 🔥🔥🔥 It happens later down the line and is slow going. Alfred feels like he's watching Harvey and Bruce 2.0 because here are these two incredibly intelligent witty young men who do nothing but yearn for each other and it's so clearly obvious to anyone with eyes BUT THEM. It's truly painful to watch.

Punching the air. It’s Dick watching Danny’s retreating back, Ellie in his arms sound asleep with a soft but longing smile. It’s Dick babysitting and not knowing what the fuck he’s doing but doing it anyway and it’s all worth it after he hears either of them laugh, even if it’s at his own expense. It’s Dick learning to cook and take care of himself again after Jason’s death because while his passing shattered a piece of himself there are othes who need him too. If he can’t help even himself then what use is he as either Dick Grayson or Nightwing?

Fast forward to a couple months to a year or two in the future and Dick is sitting on their shared apartments couch, staring at a photo of Jason. It’s a photo of them at a fair, Dick only about seventeen in it with an arm around the shoulders of a barely thirteen year old Jason Todd. Both of them carrying cheery twin grins on their faces as Jason held out a large floppy teddy bear for the camera. Dick had won it for him at one of those scammy ladder climbing games and Jason had smiled so hard Dick’s cheeks had ached in sympathy.

He can’t help but wonder if Jason would be happy for him. He wonders if he has the right to have any of this when his little brother who deserved so much more will forever remain fifteen. Alive only in photos.

But Dick will only grow older. He's got a father and while they're never completely on the same page, he's there. He's got two younger brothers, one in the ground and the other still flying across the grimy Gotham midnight sky, both work like Atlas, and both 60% genius and 40% scheming little shit. Dick’s got a darling boyfriend and a little girl he thinks of as his own and it's good. So, so good. 

He wonders if his parents would approve. Dick thinks they'd be happy for him. He would like to think Jason would be too. 

For all that Bruce had called him irresponsible for bringing Danny into the fold in the beginning Dick could never regret it. Not when it lead to all of this. Their apartment feels so full and homely in a way it hadn’t when it was just him alone. 

AGH OH AND THEN JASON COMES BACK. Guys. Guys. I can be. Good. Normal actually. Wait guys how do we feel about dad friends Roy and Dick because I have. Thoughts.

There are crayon drawings plastered all over the fridge, letter magnets and cartoon ones pinning them in place. A throw blanket over the couch cushions, a rack holding shoes by the door - something Dick would have never thought to buy - there are tapestries and posters hung up and an eclectic variety of plates, bowls, cups, and utensils with residency in their cupboards because their little girl flat out refuses to use the forks that have too-long prongs or spoons with broad handles (“It’s just bad vibes Pa!” “Okay, well what about this one?” “No! That ones too heavy and it has patterns on the handle,”).

In some fucked up way it was kinda funny. 

Guy on the run goes to Bludhaven to keep a low profile and catches the attention of a vigilante. The universe is laughing at him, surely. 

Everything was fine up until a month ago. Really, it was. Danny had obtained his own shitty apartment and yeah, maybe his dead end job made him want to eat dirt more than usual but everything was fine. There weren’t any eyes on him and now there were. A certain bird didn’t know how to leave him alone.

“Can I help you, Nightwing?” Danny says in a flat tone, leaning his forearms against the rails of the fire escape. He isn’t a cigarette type of guy but if ever there were a time this would be it.

“Mhum. I want names, same as always.”

Danny rolls his eyes. “We both know I can’t tell you anything.”

“But you could.”

“I could,” Danny acquiesced with a shallow nod. “And then what? When they can’t get to me, they’ll get to you.” He sighs, feeling infintely tired “in any case, the big bad bat isn’t known for leaving things he doesn’t understand alone, and I’m not really looking to be a lab rat again. Zero out of ten do not recommend. Turns out being vivisected fucking hurts, man.”

“Why won’t you let me take them out for you? Besides, I’m not weak. I can hold my own just fine.”

And thats the million dollar question, isn’t it? Dannys gaze fixes upon the ill looking moon, pallor as he peers through the smog of the dingy city and into the sky. “Because he told me to wait.”

“Who?”

Clockwork. 

Clockwork told him to wait. To do the one thing he hates more than anything in the world. To do the unforgivable - to sit idle when they had Ellie. As much as he’d love to spit venom and recite every reason why the GIW needed to be taken care of much sooner rather than whenever Clockwork had in mind, he can’t. He’s - and Ancients, he’ll never forgive himself - scared. He’s scared.

Logistically, he knows he’s strong. Stronger than anyone in any of those facilities compounded. Stronger than Vlad in terms of raw power if not in wiles, he’s stronger than Pariah Dark. Danny has tested his mettle against the worst of the worst and came out on top but he’s still fucking scared. Isn’t that something? Crown prince of the Infinite Realms is scared. 

There’s no one to magically make it better. No one to lean on because he’s the strongest, he’s it. And if the strongest can’t stand up because they’re too busy having a panic attack at the sight of a lab coat then really, what use are they?

“I can’t tell you that.” He glances down to the alleyway below them. It’s filthy. Wet newspaper plastered to the pavement, old gum cemented in place like spots on a dalmatian. It looks a lot like how Danny feels most days.

Nightwing frowns. “I can help you,” he says. It sounds painfully earnest, like he believes he really, really, could. 

“That's a nice offer, Nightwing, but I can’t take it yet.”

“Can’t or won’t?”

There he is. That’s the boy the bat raised. “Can’t.”

*

The next time Dick sees Danny it isn’t in Bludhaven. 

It’s months later in her sister city, Gotham. Crime Alley, to be specific. It was during the tail end of a joint patrol with the newly minted Robin, Tim, whom he had sent back to the cave early. His eyes snagged on the figure of a young man carrying a child in the middle of the wet season, a thin thoroughly soaked through navy blue sweater clinging to him like a second skin. It was pouring down like the heavens didn’t know how to stop grieving. 

It seemed as anguished as Dick was in the immediate absence of Jason. He blinks tiredly and washes the thought away. There’s a little girl cradled in Danny’s arms with hair just as pitch black as his own, burrowing her small face in his neck, tiny arms clinging as the man himself runs his hand soothingly on her back, murmuring apologies into her hair. “I know, I know, I’m sorry Ellie, I’m sorry. It’s okay, it's- We’re out. We’re okay.”

It’s a painfully private moment, one that he feels guilty for witnessing. The girl - Ellie, sobs into Danny’s chest. It isn’t his place to watch, to witness this. All the same, he wishes he could comfort them somehow. 

[stevieschrodinger]

Part One Two Three Four Five

TW Human trafficking discussions of injury

Steve finished his phone call, and it’s been long enough that Eddie’s kind of...over it. For a second.

“I’m going to go put blockers on, and then I’ll bring back-”

A whine escapes Eddie. Needy and Omega and not even remotely under his control, he slaps his hand over his mouth, mortified. Okay, he’s not over it. Whatever the fuck that was with Steve’s scent, he’s not remotely over it.

Steve takes a deep breath, “right. Are you going to be okay sleeping in here alone today?”

Eddie swallows, and he manages it, he just about forces out a, “yeah. Course I am.”

“You’re not are you?”

“Not even remotely,” Eddie could be stronger. He could have held that in but...he just didn’t want to. He’s been so fucking strong for so long, he suddenly feels like he’s slid off the end of his strength. He’s...safe with Steve. Steve rescued him. Even if Steve did sort of...leave him here. Overnight. But apparently he was dismantling that abusive assholes empire and that was...satisfying. And worth it.

Eddie’s tired to his bones, everything that happened yesterday, the pain in his feet, the bad stomach and the night spent pretzeled on the floor all seem to be hitting him at once now that he’s showered and wearing clean clothes.

Something about Steve’s scent has just breached a dam inside Eddie. He just doesn’t have it in him to fight any more.

Steve breathes out sharply, then pinches the bridge of his nose, “okay. Okay. I’ll go and get blockers for both of us, and then I’ll stay in here with you, is that-”

“Yes,” Eddie says it too fast. He knows he does, but he’s got Steve’s scent in his nose and, other than last night, the horrific night wedged up against Steve’s couch, Eddie hasn’t slept alone in a room for...a long time. A very long time. It’s not just that he wants to roll around in Steve’s scent it’s that...well. He’s used to the sounds of other people breathing, whispering to each other, even the sounds of the night security guy doing his rounds.

“No,” Eddie finds himself saying when Steve reappears in the doorway, a can of scent blocking spray in his hand, the word slipping out without Eddie's consent.

Steve hesitates, but then says, “it’s a really bad idea for us to not wear blockers.”

“It doesn’t feel like a bad idea,” and it doesn’t. It feels like the absolute best idea Eddie may have ever had. Ever, in his entire life. It’s kind of a sex thing. Alright, definitely might be a sex thing, but Eddie’s never had sex and right now it’s an Alpha safe sleep thing that Eddie’s Omega is just crying out for.

Steve swallows thickly, “you’ve only just...come out of that place. And...we only just met. And, I mean. I know it might, feel like a good idea but...I feel like we should…” Steve trails off vaguely, and Eddie is at least comforted by the fact that Steve doesn’t seem to want to wear the blockers either, “I don’t want to end up doing anything you’re not...I mean, you’re hurt…”

“Don’t think you’re gonna’ rub your dick on my feet. Unless you’re into-”

“Eddie.”

“Fine.”

“We can...talk, tomorrow, okay?” Steve sprays his wrists and neck, then spritses the rest of himself, a fine spray over his loose sleep clothes. The throws the spray to Eddie, who does the same where he’s still sitting on the toilet lid.

“Okay, I’ll finish up your feet now.” And Steve does, taking his position in front of Eddie, applying a fresh layer of antiseptic cream and wrapping his feet with the padded bandages, pulling a fluffy pair of socks over the whole lot to help keep it in place.

Eddie limps to the bed, one arm slung over Steve’s strong shoulders. He gets in, but when Steve heads towards the door he can’t help but whine again. Which is just, a tiny bit embarrassing, Eddie’s certain he’s never whined for an Alpha even once in his whole life, and now he’s suddenly making a habit out of it.

“Look. Look it’s okay I...okay, look,” Steve comes back to him, “we’re both really, really tired, and we really have to sleep. I’m just going for a glass of water for both of us, alright? I’ll be right back, okay?”

Steve’s voice is so gentle, so even, Eddie’s pretty sure he’s being...handled in some way. An alpha comforting their Omega, or something along those lines, but he’s too tired to fight it, he’s far enough gone that he doesn’t even want to try and fight it any more. He’s not to proud to admit that he likes the idea of spending the night in close proximity. To have the protection of an Alpha. To maybe losing his virginity in this massive fucking bed.

Eddie adjusts things a little while Steve is off getting water and whatever else he’s doing. He rearranges the pillows to his liking, adjusting the comforter and the soft blankets folded at the bottom of the bed. He’s never been able to nest before; stolen away before the instincts ever really kicked in, and then simply never having opportunity after that. The narrow beds in the dormitory had an absolute economy of blankets to ensure the Omega there never nested.

“Oh,” Steve comes back eventually, full glass in each hand, “good,” an assessment of the nest that has Eddie’s Omega practically purring despite the tired and lacklustre nature of the nest. Eddie settles into his slap dash, half formed nest, not interested in doing any more now that Steve is here. He puts a glass on each side of the bed before pulling the thick heavy curtains to block out the daylight, “I spoke to Hopper briefly, he probably has a lead on your uncle Wayne. He might be able to do something about putting you two in touch tomorrow.”

“Oh,” Eddie doesn’t know what to think; he hasn’t seen Wayne in years. He hasn’t been a part of the real world in such a long time that it all sort of slaps him in the face a little bit. He’s going to...go off and just expected to be normal, despite what he’s been through. Eddie flashes briefly on a future where he has to wear a tie to a job interview and the sheer mundaneness of the image is almost overwhelming.

He doesn’t know if he should laugh or cry at the thought.

“Is that...okay? Is that what you want?” Steve speaks, and Eddie realizes he’s probably been quiet for too long.

“Yeah. Yeah of course I...I’ve got to go somewhere, I guess. I’ve got nothing. Man...I’m actually going to have to get a job.”

Steve snorts, “I’m sure you’ll find something. But...all the others that got rescued this morning, Hopper said they’re setting up, therapy and stuff for them, if you want that? Most of them were taken more recently than you, it sounds like they all have homes to go to.”

Eddie makes a derisive noise as Steve clicks off the lamp, leaving them in darkness, “no thanks. And I never got to finish school, so we’ll see how the job thing goes. Good, though. About the others.”

“I could...probably help, with something, if you like-” Steve starts to say, vaguely trailing off, and Eddie sinks further into his nest. The bed is too soft, really, and he worries for a second he’s going to have the same issue he had with the couch last night.

When Steve climbs in, he decides he’s going to make it work.

“No...no, thank you, I mean. You’ve already done so much, you saved us all I. I should probably get back to Wayne and...live my life? I guess. It’s so weird to even talk about it.”

“You’ll definitely be able to sue for damages once he’s found guilty which...Hopper says they need you to give a statement. He said it probably won’t be any more than that, they’ve already started going through the Ranch and Tommy’s bank accounts, they have the recording from me...buying you. Hopper couldn’t go into details I guess, but it sounds like the evidence is already pretty landslide. Hopefully you guys bankrupt him, his stock already tanked and he hardly has anything left.”

“What...what happened to the Ranch?” Eddie asks hesitantly, and then yawns. Kind of weird to think that after years of being stuck there, he’s never going to see it again.

“Once Hopper’s people release it and the legal stuff goes through, it’ll be mine. It’s as is, other than what they take for evidence, is there something there you wanted?”

“Never had anything,” Eddie answers honestly, “what are you going to do with it?”

“Not sure. Only really wanted it because it was Tommy’s.”

“Stealing the other kids toys, huh?”

“Pretty much. He’s always been a dick, I just didn’t realize he was actually...a monster, you know?”

“Yeah,” Eddie blinks into the darkness, “I hope he’s someone's bitch in prison.”

“Big hairy dude. Covered in tattoos. Answers to Bubba.”

“Oh you know the guy?”

Steve snorts a laugh, and the bed shifts as Steve settles, close enough to feel his warmth but not close enough to touch.

It’s not long before they’re both asleep.

Eddie wakes, gummy eyed, to a fucking god awful noise. He groans, flopping over, only half aware that Steve’s pulling away from him, grabbing his phone.

“Someone at the gate,” Steve mumbles. Apparently he can control the whole security thing from his phone, because he’s speaking into it, “leave it at the front door.”

Eddie blinks, squinting in the light, leaning over, watching on the tiny little security feeds on Steve’s phone. A delivery guy coming up the drive, getting out of his van, dropping off a box, and then doing the whole thing in reverse.

The gate closes behind his little van and Steve’s phone goes dark.

“We should get up, it’s gone two.”

Eddie doesn’t even bother to answer, just rolls away and buries his face in his pillow.

He’s vaguely aware of Steve leaving, coming back maybe ten minutes later. Eddie squints over in the light from the open doorway; Steve unpacks a box, and then Eddie remembers. His clothes. Steve ordered him a bunch of ugly rich people clothes.

Steve goes into the walk in, and there are little clinky noises as he hangs things up. A drawer opens and closes.

Steve comes back, the box and some wrappers abandoned, and he climbs back into bed, resting his tablet on his knees, “look.”

Eddie does, it’s just front page after front page. Every headline. Every news site. Hagan is completely and irrecoverably fucked.

There are pictures of him in cuffs and being shoved unceremoniously into the back of a police car, which Eddie is fucking thrilled by, “could we print that one? I’ll have it in a nice frame next to my bed, I think.”

Steve snorts a laugh.

Steve scrolls, skimming faster than Eddie can hope to keep up with. He can read it’s just...he hasn’t been allowed too for a long time, he needs to get some books, get back into what he enjoyed. See what new stuff there is.

The thought of being able to do something as simple as buy a book, then sit and read it, is quite heady.

Steve tuts, dragging Eddie’s attention back to the screen, “Nancy, what have you said.”

“Who’s Nancy?”

“She works for me, looks like she’s given an interview already.”

“Oh, about you, like, buying everything?”

“Yeah...Yada yada Harrington Enterprises...here we go. Mr. Hagans’ alleged crimes...if proved guilty...despicable. Oh, she said despicable, she doesn’t usually commit like that. No comment on the take over. Okay, that’s kind of boring Nance.”

Eddie laughs.

Steve reads a little more, “yeah, he’s fucked. Tommy won’t be coming back from this. Not ever. And to be honest, the people inside are going to know what he’s in for, people don’t like Omega abuse. He’s going to get fucked up.”

“Good.”

“Yeah. Hungry?”

Eddie thinks for a second, he could do with more sleep, but if he sleeps now, he won’t be able to tonight and that’ll just fuck him up even more, “I could eat.”

[kingofthecotas]

inlooking | ao3

outsider pov aka pecco learns to call ahead | 1.6k

——

“Vale?” Pecco calls as he opens the front door and steps into the house.

It’s more a courtesy than anything; Valentino had said they were always welcome, whether that was the ranch, his motorhome, or his private residence in Tavullia. They have the code for the gate and keys to the front door, but they don’t often abuse the privilege. Even now, all Pecco wants is the hoodie he thinks he left here last time Valentino invited them for drinks.

Hearing movement in the kitchen, he steps down the hallway. “Vale, I just—”

Horrified eyes meet his. Pecco freezes.

“Oh,” Marc Márquez says, then, “Hi,” like he isn’t the last person Pecco expected to see here, like he isn’t holding Valentino’s mug, like he isn’t wearing a VR46 shirt over the kind of tracksuit bottoms you would only pull on if you planned on staying in the house all day.

“Hi,” Pecco manages, punched out of him. His teammate—Marc—in Valentino’s kitchen, drinking his coffee—

“Ah, Pecco.” He almost jumps when Valentino squeezes his shoulders on his way past. “A nice surprise.”

Across the kitchen island, Marc’s dumbstruck gaze hardens into such cold fury that Pecco flinches, turns to Valentino for help.

“I left a jumper here,” he manages, hoping Valentino can sense what the fuck and get me the fuck out of here. “The—the last time.”

“Ah, yes, there are a few—”

Marc places his mug down; careful, but the china rings loud against the marble. His hands are shaking, Pecco notes, and he wonders briefly, wildly, if he’s stumbled into a hostage situation. But this is—Marc, angry, withdraws so that people don’t see, don’t pull it out of him like entrails; Pecco has been with him in enough meetings, enough stewards’ rooms, to recognise that.

“Marc—” Valentino says, honing in on him, all of a sudden the only one in the room, and Marc is slipping around the side of the kitchen, out of the door down the hall. “Marc, wait.” He shoots Pecco an apologetic glance and follows.

“Did you—?” Marc fires, hot and furious, then something else Pecco can’t make out.

A hiss, sucked through teeth. “You always think there is something—”

“Can you fucking blame me?” And the front door slams. An engine starts.

When Valentino comes back into the kitchen, he looks harried. He looks sad.

“I…” Pecco starts, suddenly drowning in the sense that he’s transgressed, somehow. Crossed an invisible line. “I’m really sorry.”

Valentino waves a hand. “No. No, not your fault. Just—we spoke about something, last night, and—bad timing.” He sighs. “Coffee?”

“Yes. Please.”

Valentino carefully pushes Marc’s abandoned mug to the side, saying, “Sometimes he comes back for it, drinks it cold.” Pecco can only stare, horrified. Fascinated. Habits built over more than one morning spent together. He opens his mouth to ask, but Valentino starts grinding the beans, so he just slides onto one of the stools and waits instead. Holds himself still. Tries not to intrude any further.

It’s been a long time since Pecco has been able to see Valentino as anything other than human—larger than life, yes, commanding, always with a smile or a knowing word, but worldly, corporeal. Valentino had seemed to him, when he was a teenager, before he was a mentor and a manager and a friend, to be an unattainable god. This Vale, methodically battling a coffee machine that wouldn’t look out of place inside NASA, seems for the first time like he isn’t only indulging the whims of gravity, but truly feeling the weight of it.

Pecco can’t decide if that’s good. It might be.

He accepts his usual mug, wraps his fingers around it, lets the heat sink into his palms until it’s almost unbearable. This is not quick conversations as their paths cross in the garage, not something polite and cordial in front of television cameras: it’s infinitely better and earth-shatteringly worse.

“So,” he begins, and Christ, the look Valentino shoots him is genuinely apprehensive. “Did—has he gone?”

“Ah…” Valentino shrugs, one-shouldered. “Usually he goes to ride.”

“Usually,” Pecco repeats. Present tense. Ongoing.

“We are trying—it is not good, if we talk while we are angry. So we try to calm down first.”

“Right.” Pecco doesn’t know, can’t comprehend how much hurting and trying it took them to get here. The fact they’re trying at all is fucking seismic. “And he is angry because I am here?”

A sigh. “I—last night I said it would be good—the next time we are all at the ranch, it would be nice for him to be there. So you are used to having him around. And he said he is not ready yet, but then you have arrived today. You can see…”

“Yeah. Shit. Sorry.”

“Not your fault.” Another sigh, diaphragm-deep, and Valentino looks—old. Tired. Eyes tight, mouth pulled taut. “It is actually—very easy to say I love you. The trust—that is the most difficult. I cannot blame him.”

Pecco glances down, taking a sip of his coffee so he doesn’t have to answer that. He doesn’t want to know this, doesn’t feel like he should.

“Sorry,” Valentino adds. “You probably have plans today, yes?”

“Ah, no. Free day.” A day of errands, really, and his hoodie was just one in a long list, but he doesn’t want to leave Valentino teetering by himself, doesn’t want to leave if Marc is tearing around the track alone—if he hasn’t just left. “The trust—it will come. You are both trying.”

“You do not have to stay.”

“I am not finished my coffee,” Pecco says, only half a joke.

“Okay, okay, I am not saying you have to go.” That, at least, makes Valentino crack a smile. “I have—some things. I can be busy. The team have given me homework before Fuji, can you believe this?”

“Homework?”

“So many onboard laps to watch. Just—do not feel you have to keep me company. He will come back.” It’s said with such certainty. Faith.

“I will finish my coffee,” Pecco repeats, “and I still have to find my hoodie.” And then, maybe, Marc will be back.

Valentino certainly seems to think so.

——

Pecco spends the morning in the corner of Valentino’s right-angled sofa, half-watching the GT onboards on the television.

“This is last year?” he asks, when he catches Valentino staring at the wall rather than the screen.

“Ah, yes, yes. This is—not me. I have to watch my stints, and compare.” Valentino raises his eyebrows with a grin. “Homework.”

Pecco snorts. The Ferrari hypercar darts into view on screen. “These things are fast, no? How was it when you tested the BMW?”

“You cannot imagine. It is like a spaceship, Pecco.” Another smile. “Nothing like a bike.”

Down the hall, the lock turns in the front door. Valentino hears it, because he stops for half a beat, freezes, as if for all his confidence, he had thought what if?

Footsteps, then Marc appears in the door, crosses the room in two steps, leans down to Valentino’s level, presses his hand against Valentino’s cheek. “Sorry,” he murmurs, “sorry.”

Even across the room, Pecco can see the way Valentino sags, weary, relieved, and twists his head to kiss the inside of Marc’s wrist. “Your hands are cold. Go and have a shower. I’ll heat up some food.”

The tense line of Marc’s shoulders releases, just a little.

“Your coffee is beside the sink,” Valentino says, soft. “No rush, yes?”

“Okay,” Marc says, and he doesn’t move, still folded over Valentino in the chair.

Marc apologises often, even when he’s in the wrong. It’s an easy word, an easy offering. Whatever this is—it’s effort. It’s trying.

“Pecco, you are staying for lunch?” Vale asks, easy as anything. “I know all you boys want from me is food—”

Pecco begins to protest, and that cracks the ice up Marc’s spine, lets him unfurl and pull away. Absolution sought and found, he disappears again, but this time his steps tread Valentino’s familiar stairs, up two flights to the main bedroom, dancing over the creaky floorboard outside the guest bathroom.

“We have some prepared meals in the fridge, if that is okay,” Valentino says, and Pecco jolts back to himself.

“Ah—yes. Fine. I mean, I can—”

“He will be upset if he thinks he scared you off.” A smirk, and it’s like Vale is back, like he came through the front door with Marc. “You will make Tardozzi so happy, Pecco.”

With a groan, Pecco accepts defeat, because he’s hungry, because it would make Davide smile, because he doesn’t want Marc to think he chased him off. Because Valentino cares that Marc might be upset. “Fine. Thank you.”

He stays on the sofa—Vale flaps his hands when Pecco offers to help—and scrolls absently through his phone, messages his sister to say he will be on time for dinner, just with Valentino for lunch. He doesn’t mention Marc.

“Here.” Marc has appeared again, wet hair flat against his head, one unruly curl threatening to break free. He’s holding Pecco’s hoodie. “This one is yours, no?”

“Yes,” Pecco says, then, “Thanks.” He almost adds a sorry, but decides against it when Marc throws the hoodie at his head. “Fuck you.”

All that gets him is a cackling laugh, and when he emerges from his own jumper, Marc has gone again. Pecco takes a long breath through his nose.

He is going to get off the sofa, and he is going to go into the kitchen, and Marc will be there, and so will Valentino, and—

They will be trying. And that’s good, Pecco thinks. It will be a good thing.

Marc laughs from the kitchen. Pecco puts his phone in his pocket and gets to his feet.

[corpsedogs]

jason todd x reader

slight gender dysmorphia mention(?)

✿ get outta here! — you intrude jason’s bath time

For Jason, a long warm bath was one way for him to blow off some steam. Letting the warm water seep through his skin felt so much better after drenching himself in hours in the cold Gotham rain. He had come home from patrol an hour ago, and was still quite bitter on how Tim had gotten to all the goons before he did. Poor Jason couldn’t really do anything afterwards but leave and go home.

Course, you were there in the bedroom waiting for him till he got out— though, he wasn’t sure if he told you that he was going to stay there for a bit. He was well aware that you might check on him soon, considering he has been here for a while. But surprisingly, you haven’t, so he doesn’t think about it that much.

He hears the door swing open and your footsteps pad on the bathroom floor, Jason could see your silhouette behind the curtains. “Are you still taking a bath?” you called out, he saw your fingers slide in between the bathroom curtains. “Well, I’m gonna be here for a while,” he replies as he tilts his head, “Why? Something up?” he asks.

You shook your head as you moved the curtains, ”No, I wanted to wash my feet.” Jason frowns, “Really now?’ he didn’t really want anyone to disturb his alone time. But since it was you, maybe he could let it slide. “Sorry if it’s a problem.” you apologized, “But don’t worry, I’m just here to soak my feet for a bit.”

Jason scoffs, “How modest of you.” he says as he gives a bit of space “Then make yourself at home.” you smiled as you rolled up your long blouse to your thighs.

Jason placed a towel on the edge of the bathtub for you to sit on as your legs dipped in the warm water. “Yikes, it’s hot.” you commented while Jason merely shrugged “It’s not too bad.” he replied as he took the soap bar and handed it to you.

You thanked him as you started to scrub your body. It was silent for a bit till you spoke up, “Still stingy about today? You’ve been in here for a while.” you asked. He scoffed as he moved his hair out of his face, “Well yeah.” he really wanted to get a punch or two today but someone just had to go and take care of it instead of him. He looks over to you, “Can you blame me? I mean, thoss was supposed to be mine.”

You raised your brow at him, “You’re more mad at Tim than getting soaked by the cold rain?” you asked. Jason couldn’t help but roll his eyes again, “Course I’m pissed about that too.” he replied as he leaned his head on the back of the tub. He wanted to complain more on how the rain was freezing his ass off, but didn’t mention anything.

You couldn’t help but teasingly smile and ruffle his slightly wet hair, “Aw, my poor baby.” Jason glared at you and lifted his head to look at you, “Shut up.” he scoffs and splashes a bit of water in your blouse.

“Hey wait! I’m still wearing a shirt.” you said as you shielded yourself from the water, “Should’ve taken it off first then.” Jason replies.

The two of you sat in silence as you continued to wash your feet, “You know, back then. I used to scrub myself roughly from head to toe, I wasn’t even sure if I was that dirty.”

Jason couldn’t help but be curious, “Yeah? Why?” he asks, you paused for a while before answering “Cause I didn’t really know how to take care of myself back then.” you replied, “I was more focused on looking good rather than doing what’s best for me.” Jason takes it in for a moment, “Well, if you're asking me. I don’t really care what you look like.” he said.

You can’t help but chuckle, “Really?” Jason can’t help but frown, he could tell that you probably didn’t think that his comment was a big deal, which was for him. “Yeah really.” he replied, “I don’t care if you look good or not it’s-“ he falters as thinks of how to continue his words for a moment, “But, you get what I mean right?” he looks away from your gaze a bit to try and hide his embarrassed face.

Now it was your turn to give him a look, you were taken aback by his words. “Oh.” you replied, unsure on how to reply “You mean that?” you were definitely sure of it, but you just wanted to hear him say it.

"Yeah, I do." he says, "Do you think I would lie to you about that?" He was starting to get a bit defensive, not liking the fact that you were doubting him. You shook your head in response, “I wasn’t doubting you, I just wanted to hear you say something sweet.” you smiled. Jason scoffs at your cockiness, “I was just being honest.” It wasn’t like he didn’t want to tell you something sweet, it was just he wasn’t too confident to do it. He sighs as he sinks in the water a bit, “You’re a real smartass you know? Are you done cleaning your legs?”

As you nodded he sighs in relief, “Okay, bathe time over, get outta here.” you can’t help but chuckle as you pull your legs out, and finally he had the bathtub all by himself again.

“Now don’t just go standing there. You’re blocking the light.” He complained as you rolled your eyes, “What a grump.” you murmured as you left the bathroom.

🛁 this fic was inspired on veil by kotteri, anyways like and reblog thank chu very much

[i-dared-myself]

To Home Newfound

Stray Kids x reader

Part two to Transfer

Cw: Panic attack

You stand in front of Stray Kids, trying to peek past them. They’re blocking the way to the dorms, which is now your new living space as well.

“Come on,” you impatiently say. You shift your suitcase between hands. “Just let me in!”

Jeongin winces. “In our defence… We don’t have company often.”

You roll your eyes. “It can’t be that bad.”

But yes. It is that bad.

The kitchen appears to be dripping with raw eggs, and cabinets hang off by the hinges. A couch is flipped over, and to your horror, there’s an incredibly detailed drawing of a penis on the wall.

Your jaw drops and you cover your mouth with your hand. “Oh my-“

Minho steps around you, narrowing his eyes at the kitchen. “I don’t remember it being that terrible. What happened?”

Jisung laughs awkwardly. “Changbin and I tried cooking.”

You wince as a splatter of mystery fluids lands on the floor. It seems like it came directly from the ceiling.

“We used a blender,” Changbin clarifies. “It didn’t go so well.”

“I can see that,” you dryly remark. “Um, I could just stay at a hotel. Or like the streets?”

“No, we’ll clean up.” Chan shakes his head at you before issuing orders to the group. They dash around, and before you know it, everything is normal. It’s fine now.

“So where should I put my stuff?” You lift your luggage slightly so they’re reminded of it. 

Jeongin raises his hand. “You can take my bed, and I’ll sleep on the couch.”

“But don’t you share a bed with someone?” You narrow your eyes at him.

Jeongin frowns. “Drat, you’re right.”

“Why don’t you take the couch.” Seungmin waves his hands at you. “It’s nice and comfy. And um…”

You purse your lips. “Okay. Yeah, it’s only fair since I am intruding on your space.”

Chan rubs the back of his neck. “But it’s not like you wanted to come here. You were kinda forced into it.”

You wring your hands, having put your suitcase next to the couch. You examine the couch and smile up at them. “I’ll be okay. I’m sure it’s comfortable.”

Felix grins from ear to ear. “That’s the spirit. Now why don’t I make us some lunch? I’m sure you’re hungry.”

You hesitate. “Uh, I actually have to go out. Sorry.”

“Nah, it’s fine.” Felix shakes his head, expression still cheery. “What do you have planned?”

“I have to sort some stuff out with my old group,” you awkwardly tell them. “Uh, like apologizing for everything.”

“Why would you have to apologize?” Hyunjin arches and eyebrow curiously. “They’re the ones who abandoned you. You didn’t do anything wrong.”

“Still…” you unsurely say. You fidget with the hem of your shirt. “I feel like I owe it to them.”

Chan pats your arm as he walks past, smiling softly. “Don’t feel like you owe anyone anything, okay? But if it’ll make you feel better I can drive you over.”

“You would drive me?” you question. When he nods, you eagerly bob your head. “Yes, please! Usually I have to walk places, or order a ride. I never really feel safe like that.”

Changbin studies you, gaze heavy. “You’ll always feel safe with us.”

“And that means not sleeping on a couch!” Jisung brightly says. He glances around before sighing. “I guess you could share a bed with me, since I’m your bestest friend here. That would make you feel the most comfortable, right?”

“You’re the best friend?” Seungmin scoffs and rolls his eyes. “Oh, please. As if.”

Minho crosses his arms over his chest and shifts his weight between legs. “I mean, I have a sleeping bag from that time we went camping.”

Hyunjin points at Minho. “Good idea! She can sleep in that!”

“And how is that better than the couch?” Jeongin asks. He groans and rolls off the couch with a dull thud. “My idea was the best! Sleep in my bed!”

“Why don’t we let her decide?” Felix pinches the bridge of his nose in exasperation. 

“I’d like the sleeping bag, please,” you politely request. “I would roll off the couch in the middle of the night and break my neck.”

Minho eyes you up and down. “Yeah, you look like you’re dumb in your sleep.”

“Excuse me?” you demand as he wanders off, presumably to find the sleeping bag. “What‘s that supposed to mean?”

Chan sighs heavily. “That’s not-“

Hyunjin gasps. “I totally see it!”

“I’m not sure…” Changbin scowls slightly. “I mean she looks like she drools in her sleep but-“

“Isn’t everyone dumb when they sleep?” Jisung question. “Like, that’s how it works I’m pretty sure.”

“I don’t drool in my sleep!” you exclaim in outrage. Seriously, who do they think you are? Who do they think they are for assuming these things about you?

Minho returns and lays a sleeping bag out on the ground. “Would this work? Try it.”

“Temporary solution until you decide to stay with us or not,” Chan chimes in. “And I could totally give up my bed if you wanted. You could sleep with-“

“No!” You shake your head and crawl into the sleeping bag. “This is fine! It’s comfy, see?”

Felix zips it up helpfully and stares down at you with a smile. “Good?”

You wiggle around and test it. “Yeah, it’s nice. Thank you, Minho.”

Chan checks his phone, eyebrows shooting up. “I have a meeting in two hours. Did you want to go see your old group now?”

“Yes please!” You squirm out of the sleeping bag, with much effort. You fix your messy hair, waving goodbye to the others.

Chan drives you to your old group’s studio, and although you offer to just let him stay in the car, he insists on coming with you. You tell him time and time again that you’re fine on your own, but he just grins and tells you he wants to come.

You wander into the dance studio, where your old group is practising. You watch from the doorway for a minute as you wait for them to finish. Chan sees someone he knows and rushes off to chat with them, assuring you he’ll only be a minute.

The music comes to a sudden stop, and the leader whirls around. She lifts a single eyebrow at you and places a hand on her hip. “Why are you back?”

“I wanted to say goodbye.” You’re now remembering why you were glad to join Stray Kids. “We’ve worked together for years and-“

“And?” Another member giggles and covers her mouth with her hand. “Bye.”

You blink back frustrated tears. “Oh, bye. I just- I- I thought we were friends.”

“What are we, children?” another one scoffs. “Go make friends somewhere else.”

You nod and murmur goodbyes and apologies, ducking out of the room. You can hear them still whispering about you, and you pull at your hair anxiously, feeling overwhelmed.

Someone bumps into you as you go down the hallway, and you just continue walking. There’s too many sounds and people and-

“Hey.” Chan forces your hands down from your hair, rubbing circles on the back of your hand to distract you. “Are you okay?”

You sniffle and wipe at your eyes. “Yeah. Can we go home?”

“Of course.” Chan retracts his hand, glancing over his shoulder in the direction you had come. “What happened?”

“Nothing.” You try to tug at your hair again, but Chan stops you. He gives you his fingers to fidget with as you both walk to the car.

“You sure?” Chan questions. “I mean, we don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to, but…”

“We just weren’t as close as I thought we were.” You shrug and roll Chan’s ring between your fingers. You focus on how it’s smooth, instead of your racing thoughts. “I- I’m fine.”

“Right.” Chan nods. “But if you aren’t fine, I’m here.”

And so you direct all your stress and negative thoughts into practise, over the next few days. The show’s performance is coming soon, and you need to be ready. You get to know your new group members and become familiar with the dynamics.

“This is going to be your debut with us!” Jisung realizes one day, turning to you excitedly. He whacks your arm over and over again until you respond. “The public doesn’t know about the transfer yet!”

“Yeah.” You twist the cap off your water bottle and take a sip. “I guess it is.”

“How’s the sleeping bag treating you?” Changbin asks as he walks by.

“It’s good,” you tell him. “I’m not too picky.”

“We’re getting our outfits today,” Hyunjin says to you. “For tomorrow’s performance.”

You can’t help but feel a flicker of anxiety at the reminder. You’re excited to debut with a new group, but there’s also all the ways this could go wrong. What if you don’t look good with them? What if you mess up?

“You’ll do great,” Felix brightly tells you, somehow sensing your nerves. You don’t know how he does it. 

You grin at him gratefully, already thinking ahead to what your costume might be. You honestly just want to look cool. Maybe they might even give you a prop!

You could picture yourself with like a machine gun.

Even though that doesn’t fit into the choreography.

But instead, you find yourself in tight pants and a crop top. It’s not the worst, even though the boys are all mostly covered. But… Is this really your best look?

“Oh, you look so good!” Jeongin gushes, clapping his hand together enthusiastically. He fusses over you for a moment, talking about how fantastic you look.

Maybe this outfit is alright.

“You’re right,” Minho quietly says to Jeongin. “She looks good.”

“Is everyone ready?” Chan stands in the doorway, arms crossed. You’re instantly reassured about your outfit, considering he’s also showing some… cleavage? You’re not sure what to call it.

Chest. Yes, chest is the word.

Seungmin rolls out his neck, adjusting the headpiece he’s wearing. “Let’s do this.”

You feel excited, for once. Usually when you preform you’re overwhelmed by a sense of dread. But this… You might even enjoy this.

Your movements are fluid, and the performance goes well. You work well with your new group, even finding yourself smiling as you take your ending bow.

“Nicely done,” Chan tells you as you file off the stage. He offers his hand to you as you go down the stairs, and you take it gratefully.

You wobble on your heels a bit. “Thanks. I liked that.”

“So you’re staying with us?” Chan questions, raising an eyebrow. “I could start looking for something other than a sleeping bag.”

“Yes please,” you happily say, glancing ahead to where the rest of the group is. Hyunjin and Seungmin are bickering about something, while Jisung, Felix, and Minho are trying to get Changbin to try a dress on that they stole from the dressing room. Jeongin is volunteering to wear the dress over and over again, but no one is listening.

And you can’t help but feel at home. More so than before with your other group, and more than you thought you ever would.

Taglist:

@velvetmoonlght @jinnie-ret @hansmic @imeverycliche @iwuberic @strawberryscentedd @mbioooo0000

[nymphus-fan-account]

Jealous Mike fic recs

eyecatcher by smoosnoom (moonsooms) | 9k words

“Nah, man,” Lucas shakes his head, leaning back as he snacks on an apple, “he got, like, buff. Do you see his arms?”

Mike does, in fact, see Will’s arms. He has not stopped seeing his arms.

“She definitely sees his arms,” Dustin very unhelpfully points out, waggling his eyebrows, and Mike gets the overwhelming urge to bash his own head in.

OR

While volunteering at the Hawkins' help center, it seems like every girl around has a newfound interest in Will Byers, and Mike doesn't like it.

Comedy gold 😭 I love moon's works so much

All I wanted was you by regretcassette | 8k words

Will gets asked out on a date, naturally Mike comes along to keep everything safe. Ft. Seventeen year Olds, rain fight parallels, jealous Mike Wheeler, unrequited affection but its not between byler lol

You tell me, haven't read it

Operation Wax by draconabraxas | 41k words | 8/? chapters, still updating

After a humiliating homophobic verbal attack against Will, Max and Will decided that enough was enough. Being anything but straight was dangerous in a place like Hawkins, and the only way out of the spotlight was to blend in.

Will just wished that Max didn't name their plan Operation Wax.

OR

Will and Max fake date as a way to stay safe in the closet and accidentally cause a civil war within the Party.

Madwise fake dating and creating a drama?!! I'm so here for it.

closeface by miketozier (smallcuts) | 13k words

“You said I was bad at managing my time between my girlfriend and my best friend but you’re basically doing the same thing.”

“Girlfriend?!” Will spits out, thoroughly shell-shocked.

“I don’t get it! You could’ve told me you had a crush on someone, I would’ve—and when did you ever talk to Robin? You move to California and all of a sudden you’ve got all these girls hanging off of you and you’re interested in older girls—“ Mike’s voice embarrassingly cracks. He decides to quit while he’s ahead before he delves into the forbidden.

OR

In the wake of the apocalypse, Will befriends Robin and Mike thinks they're dating BYE. (ft. Paintinggate)

LMAOO this poor boy (haven't read it)

It's just polyester by mayfixlds, okwillthewise | 60k words | 13/13 chapters

“I just can’t believe he’s got a boyfriend and-”

“It’s not you?” Max smacks on the lollipop

OR

Will gets a boyfriend and Mike gets jealous.

Be the Boy by blueremedy | 17k words

“Jonathan…” His voice was high and resigned. “You know there’s no way I could do that. There’s no point—he likes girls. Plus, he’s going through a break up. And all this Vecna bullshit…” He sighed heavily, voice crumpling up like a tin can the more he spoke. “The last thing he needs is me burdening him further with my lame crush.”

In a blink Mike snatched up the walkie with trembling hands, shoving the plastic brick’s speaker hard against his ear. So. El was right. Will did have a crush after all.

OR

Mike's nosy ass hears something he shouldn't and he gets jealous of himself

Read it a few times before going to sleep. Very cute and fluffy 💕

i think we're alone now by lumism | 3.5 k words

“Whatever," Lucas shrugs. "You’re just jealous that you aren’t getting any.”

Mike raises an eyebrow, like he knows something the rest of them don't. Will looks like he wants to drown him. He probably deserves it.

OR

Will has a love bite, the Party freaks out about it, and Mike is jealous of himself

And another fic where Mike gets jealous of himself. I'll be honest, I don't remember the plot but I remember getting many positive emotions

Everything comes back to you by wasabi8000 | 120k words | 26/26 chapters

The world is ending, which means for the time being, Will is living at the Wheeler’s house with Mike and El. Which means his life is once again a third-wheeling roller rink nightmare, and he’s basically invisible to Mike.

Until Jonathan gives him $20 to go to an art sale, and he meets Tobias, a guy just as into art as he is.

It’s not long before him and Tobias start dating.

And then suddenly, Mike’s paying attention to him after all.

OR

Will gets a boyfriend. Mike doesn’t like it.

TWENTY SIX?? 🤯 I could never. Maybe I should try though

Jealousy (turning saints into the sea) by wasabi8000

Will has had to watch Mike and Eleven for years, and as much as it kills him, he's learned to accept it.

He's also accepted that for the time being, no one has really shown much interest in him. And he's fine with that.

Until they pull off at a gas station and a random guy hits on Will.

OR

The one where Mike finally gets jealous.

Hehehehehehehe

[twistedminutia]

A Million and One Minutia: Merry Christmas

Ace, Deuce, and Grim learn about Christmas. Find the rest of the chapters here and crossposted to AO3 here.

The winter is biting cold after the long stay at Scarabia. I hunch my shoulders against it, wrapping my thin jacket tighter around my body. It, like all my other clothes here, was scavenged from the lost-and-found and old uniform repository. Most of it doesn’t fit me. Though, the coat being oversized is kind of an advantage, since it means Grim can slide his way into it. Having a warm fuzzball next to my chest does wonders.

I wasn’t expecting to see Deuce and Ace until the winter break ended. Even when I called them, I wasn’t really thinking they’d come- I kind of just wanted moral support. But I’m glad they’re here now, even if they did show up after everything was resolved. I feel a bit guilty about that, really. I didn’t really comprehend how difficult it is to get to Sage Island without the magic mirror, and I certainly don’t have the funds to pay them back for all the fares they racked up getting here. They told me it was fine, but I still feel bad.

Last I saw them, they were debating whether or not to stay for the rest of the break or make their way back home. They didn’t get round-trip tickets for anything, since they weren’t sure how long it would take to wrap things up, and they can’t use the magic mirror as long as Headmage Crowley isn’t here. I told them I’d be fine if they went home, but I suppose there’s the travel expenses to go back. They’re able to stay in their dorms over break- apparently they don’t lock them. Maybe the mirrors keep out interlopers.

But, them being here is kind of nice, even if it’s only for a day or so. I have something I want to do.

After getting a Lilia jumpscare and having the feast the ghosts helped orchestrate, I gather my preparations. They’re not good, I’d say. But I don’t have a lot of money, and I couldn’t afford anything else. Hopefully they’re appreciated.

I have weird dreams, because why wouldn’t I, but I resolve to set them out of my mind when I head toward the Hall of Mirrors. Grim trudges along behind me, grousing about how early we’re up (it’s well past 10). Sassy is even further behind us, chasing the occasional snowflake.

As I’ve done many times before, I head through the mirror and out into the spring-esque air of Heartslabyul. I don’t really understand how the weather works in any of these pocket dimensions. It seems like there isn’t any, and each place has a ‘set condition’ that the dorm is always in. I envy it- if only Ramshackle wasn’t so open to the weather.

I step up and knock on the door a few times. “Why are we here?” Grim complains. “You never told me why we had to come all the way to Heartslabyul.”

“It’s a surprise,” I say.

“Unless the surprise involves another feast, I’m not interested,” Grim says.

“It’s not a feast, but there is something for you,” I say. Grim perks up instantly.

“Yeah? What is it? Let me see!” He makes a grab at the bag in my arms and I hurriedly yank it out of the way.

“You’ll get it in a minute, we just need to wait for-” The door opens to reveal a somewhat disheveled Deuce.

“Gray?” He straightens up, blinking in clear surprise. “And Grim? What are you doing here?”

“I came to see you,” I say. “Did you just wake up? It’s way past ten.”

Deuce blinks sheepishly. “We’re on vacation…”

“I brought some stuff,” I say, hefting the bag. “Can I come in?”

“Sure, of course.” Deuce steps out of the way and I step into the Heartslabyul lounge. Ace is there, wearing a loose T-shirt and shorts. He blanches the second he sees me.

“Deuce! Warn a guy!”

“It’s just Gray,” Deuce says. He looks marginally more put together than Ace, wearing actual pajamas.

“Yeah, but still. I’d like to be dressed before entertaining someone,” Ace complains. I place my bag down on a table.

“You can go get changed,” I offer. “I was just stopping by to drop some stuff off.”

For all his complaining, Ace doesn’t leave the room, instead perking up at the mention of stuff. “What is it?” He attempts to peek into the bag and I ward him off.

“I will give it to you. Don’t grab.” Ace’s stomach growls as I ward him off, loud enough for me to clearly hear it. Deuce’s stomach follows not a moment later and both of them cringe. “Have you guys not eaten yet? How late did you get up?”

“It’s not that,” Deuce says. “It’s…” He glances at Ace.

“They cleaned out the kitchens before everyone went home,” Ace says. “There’s basically no food in the dorm.”

“Oh,” I say. “I didn’t even think about that.” Crowley arranged for food for me, and for the other dorms where students were staying, but Heartslabyul is completely empty. It makes sense that they wouldn’t have anything left.

“It’s okay,” Deuce says. “We didn’t think about it either.” He shrugs. “I guess I kind of rushed in without thinking again.”

“It’s no problem,” I say. “C’mere, Grim. We’re heading back to Ramshackle.”

Grim practically deflates to the floor. “What? We just got here! Now you want me to go all the way back?”

“Aw, if poor little Grimmy too tired to walk anywhere?” Ace teases. “I figured you’d have problems with those short little legs of yours!”

“Myah!” Grim complains, fluffing up. “My legs are perfectly sized! I bet I could beat your long legs any day of the week!”

“Ha! Bet you’re wrong!” Ace eventually goes off with Deuce to get changed, leaving Grim huffing and puffing around the lounge.

Grim does end up beating Ace back to Ramshackle. He’s surprisingly fast when he gets down on all fours, and his small size lets him scramble beneath or around obstacles that trip Ace up. Deuce might have beaten them both, given he’s in the track and field club, but he walks next to me, occasionally offering to hold my bag.

Once we’re back at Ramshackle, I fire up the stove and make cinnamon pancakes. They’re a luxury I usually wouldn’t bother with- I barely bother to eat breakfast at all, honestly, subsisting mostly on the lunches the school provides- but I feel like it makes sense for this. Getting the ingredients meant blowing some of the not-very-generous budget Crowley gives me, but I made sure I had some money set aside.

“Give me some!” Grim protests near my feet. I nudge him away.

“You had some earlier.” He whines and complains. “You can have some after Ace and Deuce have eaten.”

“It smells good,” Deuce says as I place some on his plate.

“Yeah, I didn’t know you could cook,” Ace says.

“Mostly only breakfast stuff,” I say. Suddenly having to cook all my meals, not only for myself but also for a whiny little monster was a bit of an adjustment. An adjustment that involved me frantically trying to source meals that were cheap, quick, and not going to kill my housemate. Not that the last bit ended up being an issue- I’m starting to think Grim could eat rat poison and not have anything worse than a mild stomachache.

The boys stuff themselves and even the ghosts show up to enjoy the smell of the breakfast. Grim barely finishes licking his plate clean before he turns to me. “Okay. Where’s the thing you said you were going to give me?”

Ace perks up as well. “Yeah, didn’t you say you had stuff for us?”

“Yeah, yeah. Can’t even wait five minutes,” I complain, but there’s no heat behind it. I grab my bag and fish out the parcels. “Sorry the wrapping’s so awful. I can’t believe how expensive wrapping paper is.”

None of them seemed put off by the fact that the gifts are wrapped in old assignments and twine. Grim rips into his with such enthusiasm  he nearly tears the present underneath. Deuce is much more careful with his unwrapping, apparently determined to at least save the twine, if nothing else. Ace pulls the twine away and shuffles the paper aside to reveal a tiny hedgehog, pale pink, dangling from a keychain. Beneath it is a small pile of cookies.

Deuce picks up another hedgehog, this one pale blue, from his own gift. “It’s cute,” he says. “Did you make it?”

I nod. The pattern was something I found free online, though it meant having to pay to print the pages off in the library. And, when you get free reign of the lost-and-found, sometimes there’s cool stuff in there. I had to unwind an old sweater for the yarn, and the keychains were scavenged from toys people had lost. The cookies were actually the hard part- I had to go hunting for a recipe that made them taste at least close to how I remembered them.

Grim, meanwhile, examines his own present. “How’s this supposed to work?”

“Here, it kind of buttons in the front…” I drape it over his… shoulders? And then fasten the button. It’s a bit lumpy, and not the cleanest work, but it’s the best I could do with scavenged yarn and a single crochet hook. “You kept complaining about being cold. I figured a little shawl-thing would be better than your ribbon. You don’t have to stop wearing it! I know it’s important to you.” I did my best to make sure his magestone and ribbon wouldn’t interfere with the shawl. It looks like it worked okay. The bow’s a little scrunched and partially hidden, but it’s nothing too awful. Grim pats at the shawl, smoothing down the lumpiness that inevitably cropped up from my poor stitchwork.

“What are all these gifts for?” Ace asks. “Just thanks for us rushing to your rescue?”

“Well, they can be for that, too,” I say, still helping Grim adjust his shawl. “But it’s actually for Christmas! Merry Christmas!”

Deuce and Ace glance at each other. “Er,” Deuce says after a moment. “What’s Christmas?”

“It’s a holiday where I come from. And in the area I live, it’s pretty popular. There are a lot of traditions for it, but the big one is exchanging gifts.” I shrug. “I know you guys don’t celebrate it here, but I thought I could at least celebrate it a little.”

“How come Ace and Deuce got cookies and I didn’t?” Grim complains, having finally noticed.

“You ate half the cookies I baked when I baked them,” I say. “That was your share.”

“Myaahh!” Grim whines.

“Gray,” Deuce says, ignoring Grim. “Thank you. I’m glad you wanted to share the holiday with us.”

“Yeah, thanks for the gift,” Ace says. “You said there were a bunch of ways to celebrate, yeah? Do you do stuff other than gifts?”

“Yeah, it’s mostly decoration stuff,” I say. “There’s a tradition where you set up a pine tree in your house and decorate it with a bunch of lights and ornaments.”

“A tree?” Ace interrupts. “Why a tree?”

“Oh, uh. That’s a good question. I’m not sure. I know that it used to be more of a tradition where people went outside to decorate the trees, then they brought them inside, but I don’t know how it started specifically. It’s weird, I know, but I enjoy it. Sometimes you can decorate with other things, too, like pine wreaths. Um, hanging stockings by the fireplace was a thing, so people can put presents in those.”

“Why stockings?” Deuce asks.

“I think it used to be shoes, because it was like you were hiding little presents somewhere, then it kind of changed to stockings over time? I’m not sure.” I’m half making things up at this point. But I don’t want to sound like I don’t know what I’m talking about. “There’s the myth of Santa, too.”

“What’s Santa?” Grim asks, having settled next to me. I shoved the rest of the pancakes toward him at some point and that seems to have calmed him down.

“It’s a myth about a magic old man who brings presents to kids on the night before Christmas. There’s a lot of movies about it, actually. He’s got a sleigh pulled by flying reindeer- hey!” I cut off because Ace has burst into laughter.

“What kind of a myth is that? Why flying reindeer?”

“It originated in an area with reindeer, I don’t know! Yes, it’s kind of silly, but that doesn’t mean it’s not a fun myth.”

Deuce looks contemplative about something else. “You said your world doesn’t have magic. How does Santa have magic?”

“I said it’s a myth, too. It’s not real. I mean, everyone pretends it’s real for kids, so they believe, but it’s not actually true.”

“If there’s no magic, how come kids believe it?” Ace asks.

“A lot of kids believe in magic, before figuring out it isn’t true,” I say.

Ace shrugs. “Eh. I guess kids are kind of stupid.”

Deuce pets the little hedgehog with one finger. “It sounds like an interesting holiday. Do you do anything else to celebrate?”

“I mean, we did a bunch of different things together. My family, I mean. We baked a lot of cookies together. The ones I gave you are a similar recipe. And we decorated together. And, uh. We had a tradition where the night before Christmas, we got together and we watched a movie and we had hot chocolate. It was… it was nice.” My stomach twists abruptly. I don’t know if I’m ever going to celebrate with them again.

Ace and Deuce exchange looks again. “Hey, that’s no problem!” Ace says. “I brought my laptop, and the internet’s pretty good on campus. We can take some hot chocolate mix and milk back to Heartslabyul and have a party there!”

Deuce looks at me hopefully. “We can check out some of the movies you mentioned wanting to see.”

“We have to watch Murder at the Midnight Mansion,” Ace says. “It’s a classic.”

“It doesn’t sound like a very Christmassy movie,” I laugh. “But I think I’d like that.”

I don’t know if Ace and Deuce were planning on going back home today, but they don’t. We spend ages at Heartslabyul, watching movies on Ace’s laptop and only pausing for a few snack breaks. We even manage to get a delivery service to bring some food up to Night Raven, which saves us the trouble of making dinner. It’s late by the time I head back to Ramshackle.

Grim huddles under the covers as I finish brushing my teeth and getting ready for bed. He’s so busy snuggling for warmth that I almost miss it when I climb in with him.

“Are you still wearing the shawl?” I ask. Come to think of it, he was wearing it when we were at Heartslabyul, too. I’d assumed he’d wear it for a bit, to be polite, then wriggle out of it as soon as no one was looking.

Grim fluffs his fur, then hunches in on himself, hugging the shawl to his body. “It’s cold! The Great Grim needs to be warm!”

I laugh. “Okay, okay. I’m not going to make you take it off.”

Grim waits for a moment while I settle into bed. Then he murmurs, almost as an afterthought, “I don’t remember ever gettin’ a gift like this before. So… so don’t you think I’m going to give this up so easily!”

“I didn’t ask you to give it up,” I say. Grim huffs and curls up, turning his back to me. His fur along his spine is puffed up in a little embarrassed ridge. I could tease him more, but I let him be.

“Merry Christmas, Grim,” I say as I settle down next to him. After a moment, he shuffles closer and settles into my arms.

“Merry Christmas, Gray,” he whispers back, almost too soft to hear. The draft room is cold, but Grim’s small body is warm in my arms and it’s easy to settle into sleep with that little comfort.

Read the next chapter here.

[sweetluna20]

Snow days!!

guys i just got cursed with the fool mans spring so now we have snow day hcs because i can’t think of fic ideas. hopkins paige x reader :)

the second paige finds out y’all have a snow day she’s over at your place in a heartbeat.

if y’all get the notification school’s canceled the night before, suddenly she’s over for a sleep over.

“surprise!!” paige cheers as you open the door. “we got the literal notification less than a minute ago.” you say in shock. “so? you gonna let me in or are you gonna let me freeze to death?” she’ll ask playfully teasing

if it’s the morning and y’all get the notification school’s canceled, you’ll wake up to your body being crushed and shaken.

”come onnn! wake upp! Snow day!” paige will whine until you wake up. “how did you get in here?” you ask sleepily, your voice groggy and disoriented. “your mom let me in.” she responds nonchalantly. “now wake up, we have to enjoy the day!” she’ll exclaim back in her energetic playful self.

Once you’re up you best believe she’s dragging you outside. playing in the snow, making snow angels and having snowballs fights. at some point she’s convinced she can make a three pointer with a snowball. so after 20 minutes she finally gets it in, and you’re frozen against her car or if y’all in the backyard then you’re frozen on the once snow covered porch step.

after you both are frozen you guys head back inside. drinking hot chocolate cuddled up on the couch hidden under 5 blankets trying to keep each other warm.

if it’s too cold to go outside then you guys are either having a movie marathon or binge watching a series.

you guys do homework for a bit, since it’s basketball season she can’t fall behind on her studies. but she also can’t help but to get distracted, only wanting to talk to you and annoy you.

if school gets canceled on a game day she’s definitely upset. i mean basketball is her whole life what do you expect.

“i mean it’s not even that bad out, they could’ve kept the scheduled game” paige complained looking out your window. “paige, we’re in a literal blizzard. we got like 10 inches of snow.” you respond, trying to rationalize her argument. “10 inches so what” she’ll respond with a pout.

she ends up staying over so much that 1/4 of your wardrobe is just her sweats and t-shirts.

if you go over to her house

if you go over to her house she’s dragging you away from her siblings.

closing and locking her door so she can spend quality time with you without her siblings interrupting.

even if you’ve been over a million times she’ll still show off her basketball memorabilia. if she gets new stuff you best believe she’s going to ramble about it for hours

has a whole little section of her room dedicated to you and her. the area is full of photos, gifts, letter, anything you name it.

you both are playing knock out with her mini hoop for hours.

if y’all can’t hang out

if you’re out of town or the roads are too bad to travel on then you best believe paige is still spending every second with you

whether that’ll be on facetime with you or texting you for hours straight, shell still do it.

paigey <3: sorry my mom said the roads are too bad to travel on. i’ll try to come over once the roads get better. i miss you ❤️☹️ you <3: it’s okay! i’ll rather have you be safe at home than hurt on the road. i miss you too ☹️❤️ we can alway face time if you want!

love this concept! thanks for reading! <3

[sramoonlight]

Robin for a night

Content you’ll see here: bat sis, batfamily, reader

English its not my first language so please be patient!

The batcave wasn’t a place where they usually hang out, but since you moved to the manor you had the weird idea to wait for them to go on patrol or see them once they come back, usually you do it alone maybe with Titus or with Alfred the cat but this time you were playing cards with Cassandra.

It as 12 o’clock and you were waiting for Damian, well, Bruce was

— Achu! — You sneezed covering your nose, you thought you were starting to get sick but there was nothing staining your hand

— Gezz (reader) maybe you caught a cold after all this nights — you knew that wasn’t true, you don’t sneeze without reason only if-

Damian appeared taking his usual militar position next to his father, he looked normal but he can’t lie to a twin sense

— Im ready for patrol, father —

— No, you’re not, you’re sick — You pointed causing Cassandra to raise an eyebrow not knowing why did you say that, of course, for her eyes Damian was absolutely good

But then he sneezed, a deep one that you knew he was holding back

— I can’t take you out like that, you can get worse — Bruce said taking off the domino mask on Damian’s face, he groaned on response not happy to put on time out

You chuckled at his reaction looking at your cards again, you kept playing with Cassandra as you overheard the conversation behind you.

Damian hates when someone sees him as weaker, but about this? You can’t argue with your dad, because you know, once he gets a very bad flue you’ll get one too

— But you’re right, it’ll be hard without Robin — Your father said and Cassandra looked at him, you mumbled something to ask for her attention in the game

— You can pick a replacement, I’m sure Tim would be happy to be Robin again —

Another groan, Damian doesn’t look happy about it

Eye contact

Your head moved to face the floor, you can already know what is in his mind and you need to think in something to not do it

— I request (Reader) as my substitute for tonight — damn demon!

— I can’t, we don’t look alike anymore — you tried to convince Bruce that it was a mistake

And you had a point, your hair was longer than Damian’s so it would be weird to see Robin with at least 20 cm longer hair

— You can have the hoodie at all times, it won’t be weird, Damian does that sometimes — Your instantly looked at Cassandra, she chuckled at your reaction.

— That’s fine with me, I’ll use this to bond more — The worst was that Bruce is happy with that

Damn family!

The Robin costume felt weird on you, you had almost the same seizures as Damian but you need to take a deep breath every some time, you loved your father but he doesn’t have any chest.

The Batmobile doesn’t feel weird actually, it’s like being in a car that has ultra futuristic mechanics, not too futuristic, without knowing much you can point at certain buttons knowing what they do.

Going back to the point, Damian let you borrow his katanas just because you didn’t have your weapons at the manor

And god, you can’t say that you missed the feeling of having that on your hands

— Let’s go Robin — Speaking of feelings, you have to admit that being called Robin gives you pride

Like if that tittle gives you magic.

You ran along Bruce chasing minor delinquents, just a few punches and they’re out

Who said that being a vigilante could be this fun? Still, you had to pressed back the smile on your face, Damian doesn’t smile when he’s on patrol

— You’re enjoying yourself — Bruce said looking at the way you kicked the thief’s face, not too hard because you didn’t wanted to break his jaw

— sure I am! This is so fun — you cleared your throat adjusting your voice to sound like Damian’s it wasn’t perfect but you can say it gives the vibe.

Being a vigilante felt so refreshing, you didnt punched to kill and that makes your heart feel lighter

— Robin careful! — in a blink you saw one of the thieves approaching with a name in his hands

And in a blink you unsheathed the katana on your belt

Cling cling

One more hit and you’ll be over with this, you just need to disarm him

“Go for the chest!”

A voice shouted and without hesitation you obeyed thinking it was Bruce giving you an advice maybe to end this duel faster than ever

But you couldn’t be more wrong.

You didn’t notice when something red stained the katana, neither when you felt your hands so wet that you had to let go of it, but instead of being dropped to the floor you could see how it is standing by its own

Well.. not like that

— Oh, oh god — Words left your mouth, not impersonating someone but being your true despair, you just stabbed that thief.

Hands shaking as you looked at your father, with eyes as open as yours Bruce doesn’t know what to do, like time was just stopped

Should you take it out? No, that’s stupid

And even if you tried, your hands are shaking enough to not let you do anything else

Why does this disturb you? You’re not new to killing people, but it was the first time in weeks

The first time Bruce saw you doing it.

Your head screamed to you, asking to run, to do something and you can only see how Bruce punched his opponent before running towards you

Your body moved by its one, you ran away as quickly as you could, running away from what Bruce is planning to do to you

Of course he will, right? His number one rule is no killing and you just disobeyed.

It doesn’t matter if he shouted your name not caring if he was on patrol, your legs couldn’t stop moving

You screw this up, on your first night as Robin

What is he going to do to you?

What is going to be your punishment?

Your lungs asked for air but you didn’t listed until you found a place to hide, the hood wasn’t up anymore and you had to cover your ears

Not because it was loud out there, but because you wanted to stop the screams on it

Screams that you hear when it’s dark out there, when the moon can’t be seen and you’re alone on that London room

And what makes it even worse, the way you can’t find air, the suit felt too tight for a moment like it was suffocating you

— (Reader)! — you heard someone calling you but you can let them see you, you know that when you panic and cry like this you can only wait for punishment.

Heavy breaths, your heartbeat feeling even more lauder now that your hands are on your ears

You’re alive and they’re not.

— Hey little one, come here — a pair of arms took you out of your hideout, you tried to fight back, pushing him away to do something

But he embraced you, that pair of arms hugged you tightly

— Shh, it’s okay — Bruce hugged you trying to calm you, to calm the voice in your head — I’m not mad, it’s okay —

A kind tone that makes you cling to him, the tears don’t stop but instead you have someone to hold you

— Oracle, send someone to.. — you didn’t hear that last words, instead you keep sobbing in your dads arms

And that man doesn’t let you go until you can’t cry anymore, it felt like hours.

He didn’t cared, he kept rubbing your back as your hiccups made you sound like a kid, and you were, the worst of all was that you were a kid playing to be a vigilante

You rubbed your eye wiping away the tears, finally you could speak

— What happened there (reader)? You were doing so good — Bruce didn’t stopped talking to you in a kind tone, you wondered if he just do that by his own or if he learned to do it

— I- I don’t know, I was just fighting and then my instinct told me to do it — a short explanation let Bruce humming in response, another rubbed in your back asking you to continue.

— I didn’t want to, I wear I didn’t —

— I know, don’t worry, Oracle made sure that he’s okay — You felt better knowing that you didn’t kill him.

Bruce wiped away the tears in your eyes, you could only hear the silence as he let you thought for a moment

He pulled up the hood hiding your face from everyone, his arms lifted you carrying you like a big baby, or that was what you feel

— Let’s go home, we had too much for tonight —

The sun went up and you didn’t notice when it was another day, you hugged your knees on the floor

You don’t know where you’re at, you just know that you jumped out of Bruce’s arms to hide again, not even taking off the Robin suit

This time no one went after you, knowing that you needed time to process.

Someone knocked, now you could see that you were under a table on the library and that someone was Jason.

— Space for one more? — He joked getting under it with you, his legs sprayed not even trying to fit in, just being by your side as you kept in silence

— I know the feeling, you were used to do bad things and once you do them again it hits you — words that didnt helped your heart feel better, instead making you remember the moment

— When I was your age I did one of those too —

— No, you didn’t —

Your voice sounded rough, consequences of crying and not getting any water after it.

— I did, as Robin too — Jason hugged you by the shoulders pushing you closer — I was so mad that I moved without thinking, and once I knew, that man was on the floor — you looked at him, he looked back

He wasn’t lying, he had the most honest eyes you had seen

— How do you deal with it? — you asked, not because of his story, because you knew he used to kill as much as you did.

He thought for a moment, his hand rubbing your shoulder

— You never do, you just live with that — the answer was one you were expecting, your mother used to say the same thing when you ask that question

— But, that doesn’t calm the storm in your heart — He pointed at the symbol in your chest

— You did bad things, but it’s on you if you want to keep doing it — it felt weird, the man who killed, that doesn’t hesitate before shooting someone said that to you — Change for the better, and undo all the pain you caused —

In a moment you hugged him, hiding your face from the world

— Let’s get you out of this thing, little one —

Your head doesn’t hurt anymore and the screams are no longer there, you still need to take a moment but you know that no one blames you for what you did

You’re a different person right?

[kittysarchive]

Hello sweetheart ❤️❤️❤️ could you please please please write scenarios about enhypen trying to fix the relationship after being toxic for awhile? 😭😭😭

Sorry this took so long!

Heeseung

-Okay....

Heeseung is one of two thing when it comes to this

Generally misses you

or he is yet again manipulating you

but whichever one it is, he still wins over your heart

Heeseung hadn’t called you in days, maybe weeks. The last fight had been brutal. After ignoring you, you decided to leave.

He shows up at your apartment in the rain, soaked and trembling, holding a small umbrella he barely remembered to use. You crack the door open, guarded.

“I know I made you feel like you weren’t important,” he begins, voice hoarse.

“But the truth is… you were the only thing keeping me from falling apart. I just didn’t know how to show it.” His voice trembles.

“I want to go slow, if you’ll let me. I’ll do whatever it takes.”

And for the first time in a long time, you see the Heeseung you fell for.

Jay

Jay was used to control. He realized too late how his perfectionism turned into criticism, how his silence morphed into coldness. It hits him when he sees your texts unread and the empty spot in your shared café.

One evening, he knocks on your door with trembling hands, carrying your favorite flowers—ones he used to tease you about loving.

“I always thought I had to be perfect to deserve you,” he admits quietly. “But I ended up making you feel small. I was wrong. So wrong.” His voice breaks.

“I’m not here to ask for forgiveness tonight. I just want you to know I’m changing… because you deserve someone better. Even if it’s not me.”

Jay is different from Heeseung

He actually realizes where he went wrong, most likely one of his friends got sick of how he treated you or past girlfriends

Although you may not get back together, atleast Jay manned up and for now, admits what he did wrong

Jake

Jake was your safe place, until he wasn’t.

He was jealous, possessive, and told you it was love. But when he shows up at your door, hands shaking, voice cracking, you almost forget.

Almost.

Jake had been possessive, not out of malice but fear—fear of losing you. His jealousy had turned sweet moments bitter, his insecurities suffocating. You finally left, needing space.

Weeks later, he shows up outside your favorite bookshop, his eyes softer, shoulders less tense.

“I was selfish,” he says quietly. “I made you carry my fears like they were yours. That wasn’t love. I’m working on myself now… but I miss you. Every single day.” He offers a small smile. “If we can start over… I promise this time, you’ll feel free, not trapped.”

Sunghoon

Sunghoon makes it look like he doesn’t care.

Cold texts. Short answers. Long silences.

But he does care—he’s just bad at showing it.

Sunghoon’s walls had been ice cold. When he was hurting, he pushed you away, pretending he didn’t care. His distant words cut deeper than yelling ever would. But he’s the one who can’t sleep, pacing back and forth before calling you at 2 a.m.

“Can you meet me? Please.”

He’s waiting outside the place where you first held hands. In his pocket is the keychain you gave him months ago. He hands it back to you.

“I thought I didn’t need anyone,” he says slowly. “But I needed you. I just didn’t know how to ask for help.” He hesitates, then holds your hand in his. “Can I try again…”

Sunoo

Sunoo hurt you with words,

but it wasn’t because he hated you.

It was because he hated himself for needing you so much.

Sunoo’s words had been harsh when he was overwhelmed. He snapped often, shutting you out with sarcastic remarks that stung more than he realized. He thought you’d never leave—but you did. And now, he’s sitting in your favorite park, waiting until he sees you walk by.

He runs up, slightly out of breath. “I didn’t know how to tell you I was hurting. So I hurt you instead. That’s on me.” He digs through his bag, pulling out a photo album of memories you made together. “I want to make better ones. Ones where you never feel unloved.”

He smiles faintly. “I want to be soft with you… not sharp.”

Jungwon

Jungwon was always busy being the leader.

Always busy being strong.

And somewhere in all of that, he forgot to be yours.

You want to hate him for it. But when he looks at you like you’re his whole world? You fall all over again

Jungwon had been so busy taking care of everything else—work, people, responsibilities—that he forgot how to take care of you. He brushed off your feelings, always putting things above your relationship. It wasn’t until he saw your things missing from the apartment that he realized what he lost.

He texts: “Can we talk? I won’t mess this up.”

When you meet, he’s already tearing up. “I acted like I had it all together,” he whispers. “But I was falling apart without you. I thought I was protecting you by keeping you out. I want to lead… but with you, not away from you.”

NIKI

Ni-Ki thought he had time to grow.

Until you left and he realized he didn’t.

You see it in the way he stands, a little less reckless.

He’s not perfect. But when he asks for another chance, you know he’s not a boy anymore. And neither are you.

Ni-Ki was young and reckless, throwing careless words when he was frustrated, expecting you to stay no matter what. But the day you walked away, he realized he needed to grow—fast.

Months pass. He asks to meet you at the practice room, where he’s been working tirelessly. You find him sitting there, sweaty and exhausted.

“I’ve been practicing… not just dancing. How to talk to you. How to love you right.” He hands you his headphones. “I made this playlist for you. It’s not perfect… but I’m not either. Not yet.” His gaze is steady. “But I’m growing. Will you see it for yourself?”

[ruksanada]

So my hand slipped... New chapter

Chapter two

Enjoy a snippet~

They were nearing the end of their shift, just an hour left until they could clock out and go home. It was quiet, the rush had long since died down, and Robin had taken it upon herself to talk his ear off while he sat there, still trying to wrap his head around the absolute disaster that was his life.

“Look… what if he was just as drunk?” Steve finally said, breaking his own silence.

Robin rolled her eyes so hard he was surprised they didn’t get stuck that way. “I really don’t think that's the case… Well he was drunk but he was all over you, just go ask him out… I don’t think I’ll have to add it to the ‘you suck tally’”.

Steve scoffed, wiping down the counter with a little more force than necessary. “Not funny and it’s not the same, alright? He’s a guy. I can’t just, you know… ask.”

Robin let out a short laugh. “Dingus… I don’t even think you have to ask, he’s down bad for you… Just tell him when and where”

Steve shot her a glare before quickly changing the subject. “What about you, huh? You gonna ask Heather out?”

Robin pursed her lips, clearly trying to hide her amusement.

“Well, unlike you boys, we actually talked about it last night.”

Steve narrowed his eyes. “Excuse me, band geek out-gaming me? But I don’t buy that you were the one to ask.”

Robin let out a huff. “Okay, yeah, maybe she led the conversation, but the point is, I played my cards right, and now I have a date.” She smirked. “Meanwhile, King Steve is too chicken to deal with his feelings.”

Steve groaned, throwing the rag onto the counter. “I hate you.”

“You love me,” she said brightly, popping a bubble with her gum.

Before Steve could come up with a decent comeback, the bell above the door jingled, and his stomach immediately twisted into knots.

Because, of course, walking into Scoops Ahoy like he owned the place, was Billy Hargrove.

And right behind him, looking just as confident, was Heather.

Steve felt his pulse spike. Billy was wearing a white Everlast crop top, sunglasses hanging off the collar, and the pair of denim jeans that should be illegal. Looking every bit like he had just stepped off the cover of some trashy magazine. Heather, meanwhile, shot a knowing glance at Robin, lips curling into a smirk as she casually leaned against the counter.

Robin leaned toward Steve without looking away from the two newcomers. “Oh, this is gonna be fun”.

Steve knew the way he swallowed was audible. 

God, they were both models. It was unfair.

Heather gave Robin a knowing look before casually wandering to the far end of the counter, giving them space, not that Steve had any clue what to do with it.

Billy, of course, was the first to speak. “How’s it hanging, pretty boy?” His voice was syrupy smooth, dripping with amusement, like he already knew exactly what effect he had on Steve. Because, of course, he did.

Steve rolled his shoulders back, trying to play it cool, even as his brain short-circuited. “Pretty sure you already know how it hangs.” He forced his usual cocky smirk, gripping the edge of the counter like it was the only thing keeping him tethered. “Is that what you came in for? Or are you actually here for ice cream?”

Billy let out a sharp laugh, shaking his head. “How’d you know I wanted something hot in my mouth?” He bit his bottom lip, looking Steve up and down, and, oh, no. No, no, no.

Steve’s heart slammed against his ribs, and he nearly choked on his own breath. Because now he knew. There was no mistaking this for just their usual posturing. No pretending it wasn’t flirting, or whatever the hell they’d been doing before. And now that he knew, it was so much harder to brush off.

In for a penny, in for a pound. 

Steve rested his elbows on the counter, tilting his head as he let his smirk linger. “That so? Pretty bold of you to assume you could handle me.” His voice was light, casual, but the warmth creeping up his neck betrayed him.

Billy’s grin widened, all teeth and confidence. “Oh, sweetheart, I don’t assume.” He let the words settle between them, watching Steve like he already had him figured out. “I know.”

Steve raised a brow, fighting the way his stomach twisted. “Big talk,” he mused. “You planning on backing it up?”

Billy let out a sharp laugh, shaking his head like he almost couldn’t believe Steve was actually playing along. His fingers tapped against the counter, a slow, steady rhythm, before he leaned in, voice dropping just enough to send a shiver down Steve’s spine.

“Quarry. Tonight. Me, some drinks, some weed…” His gaze flickered over Steve’s face, searching for something, an answer, a reaction, anything.

Steve hesitated not because he didn’t want to go, but because Billy knew he wanted to go. And he wanted Billy to suffer a little for it. But the pause must have stretched a second too long because, for the first time tonight, Billy’s confidence wavered.

Billy’s brows knit together, something unspoken flickering across his face before he scoffed, like he was trying to cover up the fact that he’d just given away too much. “It’s a small town. I get it.” His tongue darted out, wetting his lips before he tilted his head, voice a little rougher now. “Bring Robin. I’ll bring Heather. Call it a double date.”

Steve didn’t know Billy could be cute, but the way his hand drifted to the back of his neck, fingers rubbing absently like he wished he could take it back, the way his jaw clicked as he clenched it just a little too tight. Cute.

But Steve wasn’t about to let him stew in it. He leaned in just slightly, letting his pinky graze against Billy’s hand, a featherlight touch that made his pulse spike. “Better not disappoint, California,” he murmured, letting his smirk curl slow and easy. “Talkin’ a big game. Too big game.”

Billy’s grin was back in an instant sharp and all for him. It lit up his whole damn face, like Steve had just handed him exactly what he wanted on a silver platter. His tongue ran along his teeth, and his eyes dragged over Steve in a way that sent heat curling low in his stomach.

“Oh, I know, King Steve,” he purred, and shit. That voice. That look. It reminded him of how Billy used to break every unspoken rule in the locker room, how he’d watch Steve too closely, too openly, like he was enjoying it a little too much. Back then, Steve had chalked it up to some weird power play, another way to get under his skin. But now? Now it seemed like Billy had just been doing it for his own damn pleasure.

Steve huffed out a breath, shaking his head to ground himself. “You want some ice cream or not?”

Billy’s smirk deepened, and he leaned in just enough to make Steve’s breath hitch, enough for him to smell the faint trace of cigarettes and cheap cologne. “That depends,” Billy drawled, tilting his head like he was considering something. “You gonna feed it to me, pretty boy?”

Steve felt his ears burn. He rolled his eyes and turned, stepping toward the freezer draw like he needed a second to breathe. He’s doing it on purpose. He knows exactly what he’s doing. He immediately was back in control unfazed by his previous falter.

“Yeah, no, I don’t get paid enough for that” Steve scoffed, pulling the door open, gesturing to the options he had. Billy rolled his eyes but wandered over looking in, pointing at the boysenberry. Steve grinned a he started to scoop the ice cream into a cone  “Figures you’d like flavour with boy in the title” 

Billy made a show of looking him up and down, slow and deliberate, like he was already undressing him in his head. He held his hand up to his chest in mock offence “And what are you implying, Pretty boy?” he teased.

Steve couldn’t help the laugh that bubbled out of him as he handed Billy the ice cream over the counter “You tell me, California,” Steve shot back, letting his fingers linger just a second too long as Billy took the cone from him. He tilted his head, watching as Billy licked at the melting ice cream, slow and deliberate.

Billy raised a brow, amusement dancing in his eyes. “You sure you don’t wanna feed it to me?”

Steve huffed out a laugh, shaking his head. “Yeah, you’d have to start tipping for that.”

Before Billy could fire back, Heather strolled over, ice cream in hand, rolling her eyes. “God, you’re both such dorks,” she said, grabbing Billy by the arm. “Come on.”

Billy let her tug him away, but not before shooting one last glance over his shoulder. “Don’t be late, Harrington.” He smirked, turning on his heel and sauntering toward the door. Heather paused just long enough to throw Robin a wink before following after him.

The second they were gone, Steve exhaled sharply, running both hands through his hair like he could physically shake off whatever the hell just happened.

Robin, still perched behind the counter, propped her chin in her palm. “Oh, dingus,” she sing-songed, a wicked grin spreading across her face. “You’re so gone for him.”

Steve groaned, grabbing a napkin and launching it at her face. “Shut up.”

Robin barely flinched, too busy silently flailing, hands pressed to her cheeks like she was trying to contain a scream. “Heather,” she whispered, eyes wide with disbelief. “Heather freaking Holloway. Into girls. And into me.” She grabbed Steve’s arm, shaking him. “Do you understand how insane that is? Do you understand how hot she is?”

Steve let his head fall back with a dramatic sigh. “God, you’re unbearable.”

Truth or dare?

Basically, a double dare gone right?

BillyxSteve, RobinxHeather

https://archiveofourown.org/works/63634909

Full fic on ao3, snippet below

Steve and Robin were sprawled out on a poorly made mattress in the attic, the only usable piece of furniture in a space filled with forgotten boxes and dust-covered relics of someone else’s past. Despite the clutter, the attic was surprisingly clean: wood-panelled walls, a single lamp on the floor, and a window cracked open to let in the warm summer air.

It was the perfect hiding spot. They could still hear the music from below but at a much more manageable level where you could actually hold a conversation without needing to shout.

Robin had gotten annoyed with too much noise, too many people, too many guys who didn’t understand not interested . So Steve grabbed her hand and led her upstairs without a word. Now, she lay on her back, staring at the ceiling, venting about men while Steve sat cross-legged beside her, sipping his drink like he wasn’t included in that category.

They’d been working together for three weeks, and somehow, despite everything, they just clicked . One night, after a long shift, he’d suggested a swim and some drinks at his place. He got a little too comfortable, and let slip how much he liked her. It was weird he never used to get rejected. Then suddenly, he’s working at an ice cream parlour, and every day is a fresh new rejection.

Robin had made it very clear she wasn’t interested in him in the slightest. And in typical Steve fashion, he’d tried to play it off with a joke “You just have bad taste, I’m the perfect man, obviously you must not like men.”

And that’s when it hit him like a freight train. Oh… OH! Oh… wow, I really am stupid.

He could see the panic in her face, so he reassured her right away that it was cool , that it didn’t change anything, and that he really hoped he hadn’t screwed up their friendship. Because, honestly? He needed her. His only friends couldn’t just be kids, his ex, and the guy his ex was now dating. That was way too pathetic, even for him.

Robin, to his relief, had laughed and admitted she used to hate him in school, jealous that he could hold her crush’s attention so effortlessly. And Steve, still reeling, had just shaken his head and said, “My point stands. You have bad taste. Tammy is awful.”

It had turned into a weirdly great bonding moment.

That’s why he’d insisted on dragging her to this party in the first place. To help her find a girl she could actually get with. Never mind that Robin insisted his ‘gaydar’ was absolute garbage and he was going to be zero help.

Still, he figured it was worth a shot.

Even if, at this rate, they’d spend the whole party hiding up here instead.

They’d barely settled in when the attic hatch creaked open.

“Oh, come on ,” Heather groaned from below.

Then Billy Hargrove’s smirking face appeared in the opening. “Well, well, well,” he drawled, bracing his arms on the edge. His eyes immediately locked with his “What is the scoops troop doing up here? Gunna help me sail away on a sea of flavour” he cackled.

Steve groaned. Of course, Hargrove had shown up at this party. This was going to be worse than the first time Billy came into Scoops Ahoy.

His manager was there and made sure Steve gave the whole spiel. Which Hargrove obviously had memorised. Billy was all tongue and teeth that day. His grin was borderline aggressive, his laugh sharp enough to haunt him for the next few days.

Every time he thought his life couldn’t get more embarrassment, he was proven wrong.

He wasn’t going to let Hargrove win this time.

“Yeah yeah, get on your knees, I’ve given you something to taste” he bit back.

Hargrove was biting his tongue and grinning like a goon “Aww princess, don’t tempt me with a good time”.

Heather groaned “Could you stop standing with your dick in your hand and get up there?” she said, pushing past Billy so she could get into the room. She gave a polite wave before flopping onto the mattress like she belonged there. A drink in one hand, a joint in the other. “Just needed a place to smoke without every dumbass downstairs asking for a hit.”

Billy chuckled as he hauled himself up after her, pulling the hatch shut behind him before strutting over until he was standing way too close, his belt buckle practically in Steve’s face.

Typical.

The guy was always like this, swaggering into any space like he owned it, all sharp edges and knowing grins.

Billy looked down at him, bottom lip caught between his teeth as he gave Steve a slow once-over. Then, before Steve could even think about moving, Billy reached out, cupping his face in one rough, calloused hand. His thumb dragged over Steve’s cheekbone, slow, almost gentle.

Then came the light slap.

“I miss the purple I put there, pretty boy,” Billy murmured, voice low and amused. “Really brought out the green in your eyes, we aren’t interrupting anything are we?”

Steve groaned, batting Billy’s hand away. “Gee, thanks…Pretty eyes and all at the cost of being hit with a plate. Wasn’t even a fair fight, that’s, like… domestic abuse.”

Billy snickered, dropping onto the mattress beside him. “Yeah, well dinner wasn’t ready when I got home, was it honey …”

Steve rolled his eyes. “Why would you expect a trophy wife to cook? My job is looking pretty, sweetheart .”

Steve could see the way Billy’s face started to glow, his mouth opening to retort but Heather cut him off “If you two are done with your weird little foreplay routine, I’d like to get high”.

Robin snorted, sitting up a little as Heather was half draped over her legs. Steve gave her a suggestive brow raise, maybe there was hope for her “Hey Heather, Robin has never smoked, could you shotgun her?”.

Robin looked at him in fear not knowing what that meant “What me?”.

Heather gave a grin that rivalled Billy's; they were a match made in heaven hot, mean, and popular.

“I get to be your first” she said, shimming her shoulders a little as she looked at Robin. She placed the joint between her lips “Come on Bilbo, light me” she said. Steve let out a cackle at the nickname of course she could insult Billy with no fear of him attacking her back. “Can it, princess” he huffed. Billy leaned over lighting her joint with his zippo, closing it with a satisfying click.

Robin sat there confusion having never left her face.

Heather took a slow, deliberate drag, her eyes locked onto Robin the entire time. She pulled back just enough to let the smoke linger between her lips before tilting her head.

“C’mere, newbie,” she murmured, tapping her fingers against Robin’s chin.

Robin blinked, glancing at Steve in mild panic. “Wait, wait, what exactly is happening right now?”

Steve, still grinning like an idiot, gave her a little shove. “Relax, it’s just sharing the smoke. You’ll be fine.”

Billy scoffed, lounging back against the mattress. “Jesus, you’d think we were corrupting a kid.”

Robin shot him a glare before turning back to Heather, who was waiting patiently, lips still curled in amusement.

“Okay, uh… what do I do?” Robin asked, eyes darting between Heather’s mouth and the joint.

Heather tilted her head. “Inhale,” she said, voice low and teasing. Then, before Robin could overthink it, she leaned in, exhaling the smoke directly into her mouth.

Robin inhaled instinctively, coughing almost immediately. She smacked at Steve’s arm as he burst out laughing. “You absolute dick ,” she wheezed.

Heather just laughed, rubbing a hand down Robin’s back as she fought off the coughing fit. “Not bad for your first time,” she teased.

Robin, face slightly red, cleared her throat, laughing awkwardly.

Billy, watching with vague amusement “That was painful to watch,” he muttered.

Heather ignored Billy, stretching her legs out. She held the joint out for Steve but Billy tried to snatch it away. But before he could grab it, Heather pulled away just in time. She kicked at Billy “Behave, just let him shotgun you if you're that impatient” she huffed.

Billy groaned, holding up his hands in surrender. “Fine, fine. Ladies first.”

Steve decided right then and there that he adored Heather. She had Billy whipped , not in a way that made him submissive, but in a way that forced him to play nice . It was good to see that someone could keep him in check.

Heather finally passed the joint to Steve, who took it without hesitation, twirling it between his fingers before glancing up at Billy. “C’mon, Hargrove,” he said, taking a small drag. Smoke curled around his lips as he exhaled. “Or are you afraid you’ll choke worse than Robin?”.

Robin smacked his arm. “You are insufferable .”

Billy had been sprawled out lazily on the mattress, rolled his eyes but couldn’t quite hide the grin tugging at his lips. Steve had seen that look before the challenge . Billy was competitive to his core like he thrived off conflict. It was their dynamic, constant push and pull, sharp edges pressing but never cutting .

Steve should hate him. He should be wary, after everything. But there was something about the way Billy leaned into it , how he wanted Steve to bite back. No one in school ever fought back , not like this. It made something spark beneath Steve’s skin, a live wire waiting to catch.

Billy sat up, tilting his head as if debating whether this was even worth his time. He must’ve decided yes because he leaned forward, close enough that Steve could see the blown-out pupils and the flicker of amusement in his gaze.

Steve didn’t move, just took in a slow, deep drag of the joint. Smoking was a habit now, the only way he got any real sleep after everything with the Upside Down. But this wasn’t about winding down. This was about having some fun and making Billy choke.

He barely leaned forward, just enough to force Billy to come the rest of the way, to make him be the one to invade Steve’s space.

Billy let out a quiet huff of laughter. “Alright, sweetheart,” he murmured, voice low and amused. “Give me your best.”

Steve smirked, pulling the joint from his lips. Then, closing the distance completely, he exhaled slowly and steadily, the smoke curling between them. When Billy started to shift back, thinking he was done. Steve caught his face, fingers pressing just enough to hold him there. He wanted to invade Billy’s space right back, he deserved it.

But Billy couldn’t handle it, he jerked away, coughing hard.

Which, in turn, made Steve cough when a sharp laugh ripped out of his throat. He was still the winner in this.

“Damn, California. Thought West Coast kids were supposed to be seasoned pros., can’t handle the best”.

Billy took a deep breath, trying and failing to shake it off. “If you don’t stop laughing, I’ll give you something to choke on.”

He coughed again, completely ruining the effect. “Shut up.”

But it was too late, Robin and Heather were already cracking up, and even Billy, for all his grumbling, couldn’t stop the corner of his mouth from twitching.

For a moment, it was surprisingly easy between them. Like they weren’t sworn rivals. Like they weren’t supposed to hate each other.

Maybe they weren’t friends , but right now? Right now, it sure as hell felt close enough.

[foofygoldfish]

hi this is idk me being vulnerable or whatever

but uh if anyone ever wants to chat or like… discord or whatever? I’d like that?

[lesbiansanemi]

Currently trying not to vomit over the fact that I essentially just lost almost a thousand dollars brb

[the-casbah-way]

i found loads of pictures of my uncle i am going 2 cry

[raeathnos]

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