harus-simp

[unluckylanterns]

New skill unlocked

Turns out I can read people now, yippee new skill!

Saw something in a certain chat today that validates every negative emotion I have towards someone.

The things stated were bad, and I’m not happy about that.

but I’m so fucking glad I wasn’t just hating on someone just because of a gut feeling.

trust yourselves darlings.

[soundofseventeen]

We Belong Together (Part Six)

If it wasn’t for the fact that me and my sister are gonna watch Seventeen tonight, this update would’ve been postponed to tomorrow, so thank her.

Word count: 2017

Deciding to take a longer lunch than usual, Jihoon first opted to go to your apartment, but he wasn’t sure how long it took him to realize that you were at work, so he decided for the benefit of his bandmates, he stopped by your workplace, expecting to see you there, but no matter how many times he went through the aisles, he couldn’t find you, and he felt dumb for not knowing that you had a life outside of Seventeen. You rarely told them, but it was there.

“Can I help you with something?” Jihoon wondered if it was the same coworker who often got on your nerves. The way she asked him made him think so.

He shook his head. “Just looking.” Looking for you, any sign that you were alive but no such luck. He was really starting to wonder what happened, but it wasn’t his business. Instead, Jihoon circled the entire place a couple more times just to spite your coworker  and decided to buy a big box of ramen. 

“Where’s Y/N?” Jihoon asked, trying to look as uninterested as possible when he finally decided he was done with shopping. (That and ever since you started delivering exclusively to Seventeen at Pledis -to be charged whenever one of them dropped by to pay for everything, he admitted to himself that he got used to seeing you a couple times a day as opposed to a couple nights a week. But it had been a while since you stopped by; same for them going to your place.) 

“Didn’t you hear? Y/N moved.” Your unnamed coworker said this as if were not only old news but a big inconvenience in her life 

“Oh, okay. Um, I’m just here to pay for the stuff that’s been brought to us for the month. It should be under either Jihoon or Seungcheol.”

The bill had turned out to be of a lesser amount than he expected it to, so he paid what was owed and even took some extra things for the members since they were only a third done with the work. After arguing with her to see all the receipts, he noticed that some were torn out, and he had a hunch you either paid for them or had been paid in the same visit by one of the boys. (Which wouldn’t have made sense considering any of them would’ve paid it all at once.)

And on his way out, he bumped into your bosses who were just coming back from somewhere so they didn’t have time to chat with him, not that Jihoon minded. He was already later than usual.

But the fact that you left without saying anything didn’t sit well with him and after asking Ahnjong about it once he stepped foot in Pledis, he was left pretty confused. He knew she was hiding something but when Ahnjong promised something would change soon, he let her go, but he was still distracted the entire afternoon to late evening, meaning he fumbled the choreo multiple  times until Soonyoung called for a break and he ran to his phone to send you text after text to call you out. Or at least, he tried, but every time he wanted to press send, he erased everything until a new thought formed.

“Did you get it all out of your chest?” Seungcheol asked with his mouth of food.

“What?”

“You’ve been so out of it since you came back from visiting Y/N. Did something happen?”

“I didn’t visit Y/N. I went to pay our credit bill and I came straight back.”

“Oh. I just thought that since you guys have been hanging out a lot-”

“We haven’t been hanging out. I mean, we went to the movies a couple weeks ago-” Well, shit, so much for being discreet, but he was annoyed so he needed to think out loud.

“And bowling on that one Saturday,” Soonyoung chimed in, poking his cheek. He plopped himself on the floor next to Jihoon, helping himself to Seungcheol’s fries. “Wait, what about last month when you had Y/N in the studio and it was like almost two am-”

“I told you that it wasn’t what it looked like!” Jihoon could feel his cheeks burning at the memory of being caught draping one of Jeonghan’s blankets on you. You had literally been running back and forth between your job and Pledis, helping him stock up on the snacks and non perishable foods as a reward for all the hard work they’ve been putting in, as well as the long days ahead where the cold floors would be their makeshift bed until they could actually go home. (While a lot of the weight of being responsible for their futures had been lifted from his shoulders, it would never leave him completely. )

You had just told him that you were gonna sit for a minute and the next thing Jinhoon knew, you had fallen asleep and instead of waking you up and telling you to go home, he let you stay there while he flipped back and forth between his songwriting until he heard you shivering and turning over to stay warm, so he pulled out a blanket from under his desk and covered you, smiling a little at how you didn’t complain once. 

Unfortunately, Soonyoung barged in at that moment, ready to ask about something when he saw him, and Soonyoung started jumping up and down like a madman, pointing and would’ve shouted at Jihoon, had Jihoon not shushed him. And now that meant never living it down. 

“Did something happen?”

“No; Y/N just moved and no one bothered to tell us.” He took that a lot more personally than he should’ve, he wasn’t gonna lie. “I thought we were all getting along great and then this happens.” He frowned, standing up. “Let’s get back to work. We have a long way until we finish this shit and then we can go home.”

“Are you sure you’re gonna be able to concentrate?” Soonyoung asked. “You’ve been out of it and when that happens, we’re here at all hours of the night. Now why don’t you call or text or whatever you wanna do so we can finish this and then go home.”

“I don’t wanna,” he mumbled. “Let’s do this so I can move on with my life.”

“I told you his crush on Y/N was obvious,” Soonyoung mumbled under his breath and Seungcheol guffawed. “Now that means none of us can make a move!” He dramatically clung onto the leader’s shoulder before sobbing. 

“I don’t like Y/N like that,” Jihoon scoffed at his friend’s antics. “I just really enjoy having company.”

“Bullshit!” Junhui, who was on the other end of the room, was pretty much in his face in the blink of an eye. “Last time I wanted to hang out with you, you literally shoved me out of the room and told me you were busy.” He pointed to Jeonghan next. “And then when Jeonghan invited you for coffee, you left him in the middle of his sentence because Y/N called you and told you about….you know what? You didn’t even tell us.”

“My personal life is personal. If you guys wanna spill all your dirty little secrets to each other, go ahead.” His phone chimed, his heart picking up speed when your name showed up on the screen. He opened your message, read it and put it back in his pocket. “Now can we call it a night, or can we finish this choreo?”

“Was that Y/N?” Seokmin wiggled his finger at Jihoon before booping his nose.

“Yes, now let’s do this already.” He was already on his feet, ready to practice his moves and go home to see you….wherever you were. “Okay, play the music; I think I know where I’m going wrong.” 

He tried not to notice the nudges and disbelieving looks from his friends but he didn’t miss the way they looked at him when he finally nailed the final move and he left the practice with more ardor in his system than he felt when they debuted, not once looking back.

He hailed the first taxi he saw and showed the driver your address and all but held onto the headrest, yelling into his ear to speed up and when they arrived at an unfamiliar home, he threw all his money at the driver and ran up to the building, confused when his rationality caught up to him and he wondered why he did this without thinking. You ditched him without a word, or even a warning. For all he knew, this was a set up. Still he rang the doorbell hesitantly, pulling out his cellphone in case he needed backup.

Instead, when you opened the door, you were pulling your hoodie down and stuck your hands into your pockets as quickly as you could. You smiled at him, which only made Jihoon more nervous.  “Hi, come in. I ordered pizza in case you were hungry.”

Jihoon frowned, checking the time on his phone and still feeling unsure when he concluded that it was too late for any place to deliver. “How-”

“I have a friend who did me a favor.” You reached for his hand, bringing him inside. “Let me give you a tour.”

“Wait, you live here now?”

You nodded. “Yeah. I have a lot to explain. Well, not a lot but I kept you -and the guys- out of the loop long enough.” You guided him through the house, showing him your favorite spots as of now and gloating at how much room there was now. It wasn’t much to brag about, realistically, but you were proud of calling a house your home as opposed to a dingy apartment. You were even able to show him the rooftop and told him exactly how you wanted to decorate it up here.

Then you sat on the floor in your living room, the lukewarm pizza on the coffee table, and you picked them out of the box one by one.

“So, why did you move?” Jihoon finally asked with his mouth full. “What was wrong with where you were?”

“I, ah, don’t really like staying in one spot for too long,” you admitted. “Before I even moved, I was planning on quitting my job to look for another one. And then my boss asked me if I’d be interested in a manager promotion and I said yes. Which means I got paid more so I moved instead,” you finished sheepishly.

“Well that explains why none of us saw you for so long. When your coworker said you moved, we...well I, thought you moved out of the city or something.” You could see the way his face reddening at the confession, but when he smiled at you, you lost your train of thought. “I’m glad you didn’t.”

“Truthfully, I didn’t even plan on staying in Seoul for so long. I actually planned on going to either Japan or the US to see what else I could do….even if it isn’t so easy to just up and move.” You weren’t sure that you could look at him anymore. “But I guess I found a reason to stick around for a little more.”

“Good.” When Jihoon peeked at you, he could see you looking down at your dinner, smiling to yourself. Maybe the boys were right. Maybe he did have some kind of crush on you and maybe you even felt the same way. Without thinking twice, he inched his hand towards yours, heart thumping out of his chest when his pinky finger linked with yours and exhaling a deep sigh of relief when you didn’t pull it away. And then his heart stopped beating when you scooted closer to him and rested your head on his shoulder.

“Hey Jihoon,” you mumbled after a long moment of silence. Truth be told, you were comfortably drowsy just sitting with him.

“Yes?”

“Stay the night?”

“Okay.”

[thiswasinevitableid]

The Wicked House

Prompt for the 31st was: Wicked. Thanks to @thats-amnesty-babe and Morgan E Ashton for the help brainstorming.

Duck whacks his hands together, clearing the dust from them, before raising a hand in friendly farewell to the movers. He picks his way through the boxes, up the stairs, and to his bedroom. Opening the door sends a bolt of dark, fluffed-up fur into the hallway.

“Yeah, yeah. I’m sorry fuzzball, but I couldn’t have you bein underfoot or runnin out the door.” He scratches the cat behind her ears, and her affronted glare gives way to forgiving purrs. 

He unpacks for awhile, finds a good luck note from Juno tucked in the winter coat she gave him (“I mean it, Duck, winter up there’s a hell of a lot colder than here in West Virginia”). Orders pizza, gets the kitchen table set up in time to eat it. Flips through his to-do list for the next few days as he does. 

ka-BOOM

Winnie yowls and runs from the room as Duck nearly falls out of his chair. 

“What the fuck?” He dashes outside, expecting to find an exploded car or downed powerline.

He finds nothing of the sort. None of his neighbors are even poking their heads out. There’s a smaller boom, from the house next to his (his is on the corner, so only has one neighbor). 

“Well, Woodbridge finally managed to offload one of these places, huh?”

He turns to find a rather prim looking woman walking a furious looking Pomeranian. 

“Beg pardon?”

“You’re the first person to buy any of the houses near that wicked place in years.”

Duck looks around again. Every house on the block, save for his own darkly painted victiorian and the brightly painted one next to it, has a sun-worn for sale sign in the yard. 

“What the fuck?”

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

“Oh, so you’re the guy who bought the house next to Indrid Colds place?” The man at the grocery store asks as he rings him up. Duck  was overjoyed to find a real mom and pop place near his house and Leo, the owner, has been chatting with him.

“So it seems.”

“Don’t let folks make you too jittery about it. Indrid’s an odd guy, but he don’t mean no harm.”

“What the hell does he do? All kinds of weird lights and noises and shit coming from that place.”

“Not a clue. Seems like you’re in a better position to find out than most of us.” He tilts his head towards the beer Duck is loading into a bag.

“Dunno, kinda like havin all my limbs. Not sure I’ll keep ‘em all if I go in there.”

Leo shrugs, “suit yourself.”

As Duck walks home with his groceries, he mulls over the suggestion; sure, the loud noises aren’t great, but they no worse and no more frequent than a loud party or a neighbor with barky dogs. 

He sets the bags down on his front step, fumbling to find which pocket he put his keys in. 

“Don’t move!”

He freezes, finds a tall man with silvery hair moving purposefully up his drive. He’s in a long, silk bathrobe and bunny slippers, bright red glasses perched on his nose. When he places his hands on Ducks shoulders and starts moving him back off the porch, Duck tenses, tries to pull away.

He can’t. The man is surprisingly strong for such a beanpole.

“Hey, pal, look-”

“No, you look.” He points a finger, and Duck squints for a beat before seeing it; a black widow, dangling on a thread as she lowers down from his door frame. 

“Shit, almost walked right into her.”

“Yes, you did. I thought you might prefer not to.”

Duck takes another look at the stranger, including the spot where his hand is still resting on Ducks arm. The other man follows the gaze, pulls his hand back apologetically. 

“Gonna go out on a limb here and say you’re Indrid Cold.”

“Oh, you’ve heard of me!”  Indrid smiles brightly, only to have the expression falter, “oh, ah, you’ve heard of me. I can’t say I blame people for trying to warn you away from me, given my reputation.” The last few words come out so soft and resigned, the kind of vulnerability that’s either a trap or the truth of someone who has gone a little too long without the benefit of the doubt.

“Reputation don’t matter half as much as your actions. Far as I’m concerned, the only thing I know you done for sure is save me from a nasty spider bite.” He smiles kindly, holds out his hand, “I’m-”

“-Duck Newton.” Indrid takes it, shaking it with an oddly wide smile. 

“Uh, right. Well, I’m gonna get rid of that widow, but if you wanted to come in for a beer or coffee or somethin I wouldn’t be opposed.”

“That sounds wonderful but, oh, oh dear, um, excuse me something’s just come up. Hope to see you again.” He dashes back down the path, down the sidewalk, and up the steps to his bright yellow door. 

“Huh.” Duck watches the door for a moment, then goes to get a broom. 

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

The diner smells like eggs, bacon, and butter when Duck steps in from the chill of the early September air. 

It’s quiet, but he settles on a spot at the counter all the same, in case they need the booths for bigger groups. 

“Good morning,” a cheerful, somewhat crunchy-granola looking blonde woman greets him, pad in hand “any coffee or tea this morning?” 

“Coffee, please.”

“You got it.” She spins, grabs the pot, and pours him a mug. Several of the flatops are where Duck can see them, being worked expertly by a man who must be well over six feet tall. Whatever he’s moving about on them smells incredible.

“Ready to order.”

“Whatever he’s cookin right there.”

“Hash it is.” She smiles again.

The cook nods, and as he sets to work he asks, “you just passing through?”

“Naw, moved here a few weeks ago, got a job in the national forest.”

“Right on.”

“Oh yeah.” A voice behind him says, and he finds two older men sizing him up, “you’re the fella who got duped into buying next to Cold’s place.”

“He’s a man, Clarence, not fucking black mold.” The cook grumbles.

“How’s living next to the wicked witch treating you?” The second man, in a red ball-cap, asks.

“Warlock.” Says a clipped voice. It takes Duck a moment to see it belongs to the man going over receipts at the register, slick dark hair flecked with grey and face movie-star handsome, “if Indrid did have those abilities you all seem convinced he does, he’d be a warlock, not a witch.”

“How would you know?” Red cap retorts.

“Ey, shut up Jim, you know the boy was in the CIA. Better not disrespect him.”

“FBI, not CIA

“All I’m saying is that wherever Cold goes, disaster follows. Not to mention the man’s a known f-”

“One more syllable and you’ve got a lifetime ban.” Barclay points the spatula towards the men.

In the midst of the standoff, the bell dings. 

And Indrid Cold walks into the diner.

 He’s bundled up like it’s snowing, walks up to the counter and pauses when he sees Duck. 

Duck pats the stool next to him, “Nice to see you again, neighbor.”

“Likewise.” Indrid gives that odd smile again and sits down, “Good morning Barclay, Joseph.” He nods first to the cook, then the man at the register, “Oh, and hello Dani. The usual, please.”

Dani grins, turns to one of the drink machines and comes back moments later with a cup of cocoa.

“I can’t handle how bitter coffee is, even with sugar.” Indrid says, two seconds before Duck is going to ask him why that drink.

“You’re braver than I am, that much sugar this early’d have me on the ceilin.”

Indrid smiles softly, “Lightweight.”

Duck barks out a laugh, making Indrid snicker as well. 

“Any plans for this weekend, Duck?” 

“Got some new model ships to work on, might go for a hike, nothin too excitin.”

“You don’t get enough hiking at work?” Indrid cocks his head.

“I mean, not really? It’s different when I’m on my own; I don’t got an agenda or shit I’m supposed to be takin care of. I can just go at my own pace.”

Indrid makes a noise of understanding right as Barclay sets two plates down. Indrids’ is piled with pancakes and strawberries. 

Barclay points a can of whipped cream down at the plate, “say when.”

The tower of cream is almost a foot high before Indrid goes, “when.”

As they eat, they chat about this and that, though mostly Indrid asks Duck about his move, and how he’s liking the town. Then he muses, “I’d like to go hiking sometime. I really ought to get out a bit more.”

“You can come with me sometime, if you want.”

“Really?”

“Sure, long as you don’t mind me talkin about trees.”

“Not in the slightest.”

Duck raises his glass in cheers, “well, if you decide you want to, you know where to find me.”

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

Duck balances the plate of cornbread (his fathers no-fail recipe)  in one hand as he lifts the other to knock on the door.

“Come in!” Indrid calls a half-second before his hands meets the wood. 

The inside of Indrid’s house is laid out much the same as Ducks own. This is where the similarities end. There are drawings scattered everywhere, pinned to walls and strewn across tables. Art and posters and letters cover the walls, each of which is painted a different color.

As he makes his way into the kitchen he notices chalk and bottles of salt, piles of old books, and many, many, many sweaters. 

Indrid is at the sink, filling a kettle with water. 

“You’re right on time, I was just making myself some tea. Though I can make something stronger if you prefer.”

“Tea’s fine.” Duck sets the plate down, “figured I oughta make a proper, neighborly introduction.”

He leaves out the part where, in the two days since they spoke at the diner, he’s thought about Indrid quite a bit. And that whenever an explosion or other odd occurrence came from next door, Ducks’ first response is no longer annoyance; it’s worry. What if something bad happened and Indrid had no one checking on him?

“I’ve been thinking” Indrid sets a mug down in front of him, sits across from him at the rickety table, “there’s a little get-together at the Lodge, that hotel on the edge of town, this weekend. If you were interested, we could hike out that way and then stop by after.”

“You know the folks there?”

“I do. Barclay and Joseph live in one of the cottages, Dani lives in the lodge proper, and they were kind enough to invite me to movie night once. I suppose I found my people, so to speak, there even if I still am a bit solitary.”

“Be happy to come, like to get to know more folks in town myself.” Duck glances back from examining some nearby drawings, and immediately knows he gave the right answer. Indrid is looking at him like he hung every star in the sky. 

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

Ducks’ gotten used to the occasional smoke detector cry from next door.

But this one isn’t stopping. 

He grabs the fire extinguisher from under his sink and bolts out one front door and into another. 

Smoke drifts down the stairs and Indrid is nowhere in sight. So up the stairs he goes, turning into the room where the smoke is the worst. Mercifully, there is no actual fire, just clear signs of one being hastily and messily put out. He opens the windows, and after a few minutes of cross-breeze the alarm shuts off. 

It’s only then that he hears a tap running and someone muttering. 

He crosses the hall, finds Indrid glaring into the mirror over the bathroom sink, trying to sooth a nasty looking burn on his arm. 

“Shit, what happened?” 

Indrid stares at the water, “just an accident. I was careless. I’ll be alright.”

“Here, lemme look at your arm-yeah, okay, I’m gonna go grab my first aid kit from my place.”  

He’s out and back as fast as he can manage, returns to find Indrid sitting on the toilet lid, sulking. 

Duck holds out his hand and Indrid flops his wrist into it. As gently as he can, Duck tends to the burn. It’s not bad enough to need a hospital, but it’s still a nasty looking mark.

“What were you tryin to do?” He asks softly.

“You wouldn’t believe me if I told you.”

“Try me?”

“I have certain...abilities. Magic. Most of it related to seeing the future. But some of it is more general, or is in other fields of the discipline, and I was trying to use one field to influence a future and it backfired.”

Duck considers him a moment, then gently squeezes his hand, “hey, it’s okay if you don’t wanna tell me. Don’t gotta make a story up on my behalf.”

“I’m not MAKING IT UP!” Indrid shouts, yanking his hand away and standing up.

“Indrid, you don’t expect me to believe-”

“ What? That I’m stuck seeing futures I can’t stop, stuck with powers I still can’t fully control, that I’ve made myself an outcast time and again all because of these blasted things.” He rips off his glasses and chucks them down the hall. Crumples to the floor, head in his hands.

Cautiously, Duck scooches across the hardwood. He wants to reach out, to soothe the tensed lines of Indrids’ body. But he’s not sure that’s what Indrid wants. Not sure if he’s royally fucked everything up.

“Okay, I’m listenin.” His voice, gentle as it is, may as well be coming through a megaphone for how Indrid flinches. Then he looks at his newly bandaged arm. 

“Ten years ago, I bought those glasses from a little curio shop. I thought they were stylish. I put them on when I got home and everything changed. Long story short, the glasses are a conduit to a demonish creature. When I put them on, he became my patron. I gained his ability to see the future, as well as some other powers. I panicked, tried to take the glasses back, but the store was simply gone. Turns out if I try to forsake his gift, it will go very badly for me, so I have to wear them all the time, save for sleep and things like that.”

“Jesus.”

“I’ve been trying to use my powers to stop the disasters I see coming but so often it doesn’t work, and then I have to watch it play out in real time after seeing it again and again in my head.” He stands, slowly, and walks to retrieve the glasses, “or when I try to do enchantments, sometimes things go haywire. Did you happen to see the little succulent garden in the living room?”

“You mean the one that’s as big as your coffee table?”

“Yes. That was originally two succulents. I bought them as a housewarming gift for you then decided maybe four was better. So I tried to magic up two more. And got a garden instead.” He’s still as he speaks, glasses held in his palm, “It isn’t all bad. I have been able to stop some things, and I’ve gotten much better at magic. But the failures so often dwarf that.”

“Indrid?” Duck stands in the bathroom doorway, waits for his friend to turn around before continuing, “thank you for tellin me all that. And I’m sorry I didn’t believe you.”

Indrid’s smile is weak, but genuine.

“Are there, uh, things that help when this happens? You seem real upset and if I can help you feel better, I’d like to.”

“T.V, the mindless kind.”

Duck holds out his hand, “C’mon, let’s go downstairs.”

Indrid settles on the violet couch, wrapping himself in a thick blanket as Duck flips channels. 

“You’re from West Virgina, right?”

“Yep.”

“Then you may be familiar with my patron. I don’t know his true name, but everyone just calls him mothman.”

Duck drops the remote.

“Mothman? As in Silver Bridge, Point Pleasant, TNT plant, and all that shit?”

“Yes.” Indrid says mildly. 

“Holy shit.” He fishes the remote from under the couch.

“That’s a remarkably succinct reaction.”

“Hush you, you know I ain’t a man of many words.”

“Duck, two days ago you talked for half an hour about Kudzu.” Indrid shoots him a teasing smile, and Duck elbows him lightly. 

“Oooh, a Halloween cooking championship! Let’s watch that.”

Duck sets the remote down, joins Indrid under the blanket when the taller man opens it for him.

“You doin anythin for Halloween?”

“No” Indrid sighs, “I love it, but after the ‘living pumpkin incident,’ parents stopped letting their children trick or treat here.”

“Hmmmmm” Duck rests his hand just beside Indrids’, strokes it absentmindedly with his pinkie “y’know, Indrid, I think I got a way to fix that…..”

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

Duck waves goodbye to the group of trick or treaters as they scurry back down the walkway. He has to hand it to Indrid: the man really has an eye for decoration.

The yard is strung with glowing cobwebs and purple lights, bats made of purple shadow and glitter flitting through the air.  The multitude of Jack’O Lanterns flicker in a rainbow of colors, thanks to Indrid doing an enchantment on the flames. 

Ducks house is equally festive, Indrid choosing orange lights and one (magically) large pumpkin to contrast with the dark wood of the building. Currently Aubrey (Dani’s wife) and her giant rabbit (Dr Harris Bonkers, PhD) are seated on Duck’s front step on candy duty. Duck had asked for his new friends help after realizing just how nervous Indrid was that something would go haywire, and decided it was best if he was there to keep him company.

It’s been a successful Halloween so far; no explosions, no disasters, no decorations accidentally coming to life. He and Indrid chat between visitors, The Creature from the Black Lagoon plays in the background, and both of them have eaten more candy than two grown men probably should. Not a single kid who’s come to the door seems afraid of Indrid. Some are curious, and some have parents that definitely watch them closely. But most are just happy to get candy.

Best of all, whenever they’re seated on the couch, or waiting to open the door, Indrid holds Ducks hand, or sighs happily when Duck rests his arm around his shoulder.

The groups are becoming less and less frequent, and stars peek out from behind the clouds, when Indrid turns to him.

“Thank you, Duck.”

“Hey, wasn’t gonna miss an excuse to hang out with you and poach your candy.”

Indrid chuckles, “Not just for that. For everything, for being kind, for getting to know me and not writing me off as wicked. I-” He falters, turns away suddenly.

Duck may not have foresight, but he’s perceptive all the same.

“Want me to finish that sentence for you?”

Indrid looks at him wide-eyed as the ranger steps into his space, “Please.”

“I wanna get to know you better.” Duck grins, moves to pull Indrid to him.

Indrid beats him to it, grabbing his shirt and pulling him into a kiss. Ducks back hits the door, Indrids fingers digging into his hair. He holds him tight, and as demanding as his kisses are the taller man’s whole body is shaking like the last leaf on a tree.

When they pull apart, Indrid rests their foreheads together.

“Yes, Duck, I would very much like to get to know you better.”

Duck kisses him again, keeps him close as he whispers, “well, happy fuckin halloween to me.”

Indrid kisses his cheek, “Indeed.”

[szopenhauer]

Do you have pockets in anything you are wearing currently? I don’t

Have you ever tasted your own tears? it’s hard not to when you cry so often

Do you hang your clothes outside or put it in the dryer? outside, not during wither tho

Do you like the letter q or the letter z better? Z

Do you do anything weird in your sleep? who knows

How many times can you jump in jumproping? I didn’t jump for a long time now so I dunno if I can jump as many times as I used to - doubt it

Do you like the beach? I like wet sand, beachcombing

Have you ever built a sandcastle? I suppose, I want to do that again sometime

Is there a mirror in the room that you are in? not a hanging one

What color is your comb? one is white and other two are red

When did you pull out your first tooth? I don’t remember

How old were you when you said your first word? same

Have you ever had a pet rabbit? hell no

Do you like the autumn? it’s fine unless weather gets really cold and snowy

Are you good at drawing? a bit

What is your Hogwarts house?  Ravenclaw?

Have you ever seen the Percy Jackson movie/s? nope

Ever seen Glee? fragments

Do you like Demi Lovato? Name a song by her. not a fan

Tarzan or The Lion King? Tarzan, from Lion King I only liked Timon and Pumba and I didn’t cry when Mufasa died

Lilo & Stitch or Moana? Lilo and Stitch

Hercules or Pinocchio? Hercules

Rugrats or Powerpuff Girls? Powerpuff girls

Ever seen Pretty Little Liars? no

Baking or dancing? dancing 

Sports or shopping? shopping

Blue or yellow? yellow

Green or pink? green

Did/do you go to a public school, a private school, or homeschool? public

Do you have a secret sideblog? not anymore

If you could teleport anywhere in the world right now, where would you go? if I could teleport once I would save that ability for special occassion like emergency but if I was able to teleport whenever then hmm...

Do you have/would you get your nipples pierced? nah

How would you spend a million dollars? buy an apartment, help my parents, live better *maybe even make a movie?

What’s your pet peeve? I have so many

Do you like paper books or ebooks better? paper

If you could live in a fictional world, what world would you pick? Moomin valley

If money was no object, what would your wardrobe be like? big hahaha

If you could marry any celebrity, who would you pick? well I don’t know them personally so it’s hard to say - just choosing based on their look? hmm...

Who do you text the most? my gf

If you had to choose, which sibling would you live with? I only have a sister so... I would prefer not to live with her again, thx

When was your last date? last week

Are there any people at your job who absolutely hates you? if I had a job...

Do you prefer cool, warm or neutral colors? depends

Have you ever taken art classes? I have

Do you know how to work a cash register? I hope I didn’t forget much about it

Fact or fiction novels? fiction

Do you think you’re a clingy person? am I?

Do you enjoy kisses on the cheek? not really

How often would you say you disagree with your parents? often with my mom, rarely with my dad

Have you ever slept with your window open? nah

What color are your mother’s eyes? brown

Do you cry easily? very

Have you ever been into a court room? field trip in middle school

How many necklaces would you say you own? too many as for someone who never wear them.

What time do you plan on waking up tomorrow morning? wish I didn’t have to

Do you enjoy receiving souvenirs? buying them myself

Do a lot of people dislike you or is it the other way around? it’s both ways

What’s the worst part about school? bullying, grade stress, unhealthy eating, sitting all day long, walking there in the cold and snow during winter etc.

Would you ever consider going on a cruise? nah

Do you still act childish most of the time? often

Did you ever enjoy gym class? at times I enjoyed PE

What is your biggest insecurity? dunno which is biggest, I have plenty of them

Have you ever painted a room alone? not alone but helping

Speaking of which, when did you last paint your room? ages ago

Do you know how to garden? but don’t like to

Do you have any bad habits? shitload

How old were your parents when they had you? in their 30s

What is the most amusing thing on the internet, in your opinion? memes?

Do you try to spend a lot of time with family? compared to some people I spend lots of time with my parents

Do you need to clean your bedroom? yeah

What do you plan on doing with the rest of your life? we’ll see

Which decade were you born in? 90s

Are you good at giving advice to people? but not myself

Is there anyone out there who makes you feel completely useless? I am useless

Do you like texting or calling people more? text

Do you have a lot of friends? I don’t really have friends

Have you ever thought of someone as useless? myself for example

Can you count to ten in another language other than your own? english, polish, russian

Does photography interest you at all? kinda

Do you think you’re a good singer? am not

Do you think you have a good sense of style? I have my own style

Do you enjoy reading often? not often

Are you afraid of lifts? I prefer to take the stairs

How exactly are you feeling right now? Why do you feel the way you do? emotionally/mentally bad because of family and health issues mostly, physically my usual so not the best but can’t complain much

Has the last person you held hands with, ever told you that they love you? yes

Which do you think is the worst - saying something and then wishing you hadn’t, or not saying something and wishing you had? saying smth and wishing I hadn’t is worse to me

When was the last time you saw your grandparents? I saw my grandma almost 3 years ago

Have you ever felt really attracted to someone, but been deterred because you found out they didn’t have a very nice personality? omg more than once

Have you ever hugged/kissed someone you’d only just met? hugged, not kissed

Would you ever apologize for something that wasn’t your fault? I do that sometimes

Has anyone ever cried in your arms before? sure

Do you keep a lot of things from your parents? basically nothing

Using one word only, describe the day you’ve had so far. Sunday

Have you been annoyed at someone/something today? I still am  Are you avoiding anybody at the moment? you could say that Is rap your favorite genre of music? it’s not Have you ever lasted a relationship longer then two months? yep Is it safe to walk around your neighborhood at night? not for me Are you a fan of heights? nah but I’m not super scared of heights Rate your typing speed on a scale from 1 - 10? almost 10

Do you text more then you talk on the phone? obvi Are you scared to grow old? to get more ill

Do you use a dishwasher or wash dishes by hand? by hand, I hate dishwashers

What is the best pharmacy near you? they’re not that good 

Do you use public transportation? yup

How much does it cost for you to laundry (if you use a slot machine)? we have a washer at home

Do you make your bed every day? I’m lazy and it’s unhealthy to so I don’t

Do you save receipts? depends

Do you use re-usable bags at the grocery store? yep

Have you ever burnt yourself with the glue gun? slightly

Wall calendar or desk calendar? pocket :P 

Does your home have a basement? it does

How often do you clean? clean what?

How often do you go grocery shopping? often

Ever bought a lottery ticket? few times

Do you gamble? online for free at times

Do you ever sleep on the floor? sleepover

Which room do you stay in the most? mine

Ever worked two jobs or more at once? noooo

Do you live in an apartment, condo, house, or dorm? house

How often do you go see a doctor? too often

Do you have acid reflux? chronic

Do you snore? no

Are you on birth control? I’m asexual and into women 

Do you put on make-up in the bathroom or the bedroom? I did it wherever

What is the first site you go to when you turn on your computer? fb

Which email service do you use? wp

How often do you check your email? usually rarely

How old were you when you got your first phone? I was in middle school

Did you own a Britney Spears album? I don’t listen to Britney Spears

What sites are you on? plenty

Does the door to your room have a lock? I wish, it has a funny stuffed/plushie one What type of skin do you have? mixed Ever gotten beer poured all over yourself? luckily not, gross *from what I remember someone poured wine or beer on my shoes once in the store by breaking the bottle and didn’t pay for anything  Who’s the last person you had a sleepover with? John  Who’s the last person you wanted to kiss? my gf Can you keep a secret? not really When’s the last time you went on a walk? this evening

Do you feel uncomfortable when people you hardly know confide in you? if they use me 

Have you ever regretted what you said in drunken conversation once sober? never been in such situation

Is there anything coming up which you’re dreading? it’s complicated

Do you ever do tedious tasks just to keep your mind occupied? I have my usual things/distractions that I do everyday

Have you ever lived with somebody with truly repulsive habits? could say so?

Do you tend to say things because they’re appropriate not because you mean them?   sometimes

What was the last thing to fascinate you? smth I saw on the internet?

What was the last thing to annoy you? someone close to me

When did your hard work last pay off?   basically never

When did you last feel a need to be alone? almost always?

When did you last REALLY want to go out but couldn’t for whatever reason?   covid and my other health problems but also money

Have you ever eaten chocolate for breakfast? nooo

Do you like balloons? I do (don’t worry tho I can do without them)

When will you next go to the beach? *shrug*

If you have pet fish do you bother to name them?   if I had fish I probably would name them

Did you ever read the Terry Pratchet “Disk World” books?   I hate Pratchett

Do you keep your eggs in the fridge? of course

Have you ever owned chickens? I wanted to

Do you like classical music? at times, some songs

When did you last listen to music?   this day

[thepartyresponsible]

I have so many ideas about what love could start a war is - I need to know! And not beyond repair sounds amazing just from the title - it sounds like a Jason Todd life motto (or really, for the person paired with him)

ha! i love the idea of “not beyond repair” as jason’s motto. that’s amazing. i talked about that fic right here.

love could start a war is the sequel to shatter together. it’s still in pretty early stages, but here’s how the story starts.

warnings for violence and preemptive apologies for the cliffhanger.

It’s not a regular thing, him and Jason. It’s not a thing at all, and Clint keeps remindinghimself not to think about it like that. It’s just that, every now and then,when he picks up a job in Gotham, he’ll check in with Jason, just to see him.And Jason never tells him to cut it out, so Clint keeps coming back. Because henever learns. Because, no matter how many times he’s taught, he still hears You can stay as Yes, please stay.

In the beginning, he haunts rooftops, wanders the skyline atnight, puts himself where Red Hood is likely to find him.

“Hey,” Jason says, the first time Clint sees him after thenight they met. He pulls his mask off, and his hair falls across his forehead,black and curling, sweat-drenched at the roots. The grin he gives him couldbreak hearts at fifty paces, and here’s Clint, like an idiot, standing at pointblank range.

God, he’s doomed.

“Looking for me?” Jason prompts, when Clint doesn’t sayanything.

“Maybe,” Clint says, trying for cool. “Yeah,” he says,immediately afterward, because he’s not cool. He’s never been cool. Not in hiswhole damn life. He points at Jason’s helmet. “But, if you’re busy, I can–”

“Not busy anymore,” Jason says. It’s nice, that edge ofinterest in his voice. He sounds like he’s happy to see him. “Patrol’s over.”Jason gestures down at the alley, at a motorcycle waiting below. “Wanna get abeer?”

“Yeah,” Clint says, shoulders relaxing. “Sounds good.”

The next time he’s in town, Clint tracks down the bike and thenwaits for Jason to come back to it. The morning after that, when Jason wakeshim up by working a line of kisses and bites from his collarbone to the edge ofhis jaw, he gets Jason’s phone number.

“Just call me, alright?” Jason says, when Clint stares downat the number, written out in bold, jagged handwriting on the back of acrumpled takeout receipt. “You’re too pretty to stand on street corners,waiting for me. Someone’s gonna steal you.”

Clint rubs at his face to hide his blush and wishes he didn’tblush at all. He hasn’t seen Jason blush, not once, and the things Jason saysshould make anyone blush. They canmake Clint blush for days afterward. The things Jason says can send Clint’s bloodrunning several different directions, and he tries not to think about them whenhe’s working. Or in public.

“Don’t be an asshole,” Clint says, but he folds the paper upcarefully and slips it into his wallet.

Jason stares at him for a second with that pinched,skeptical look he gets whenever he hears something he doesn’t like. “I’m notbeing an asshole,” he says. “You’re fucking gorgeous. Don’t stand on streetcorners in Gotham after dark. That’s a real good way to end up less pretty.”

“I’m gonna take a shower,” Clint says.

Jason sighs like Clint’sthe one being weird and difficult, but he climbs in the shower about twominutes after Clint, so he doesn’t seem like he minds all that much.

Clint calls the next time, and Jason answers on the secondring, with a short, unfriendly, “What?”

“Huh,” Clint says, “that’s how you answer the phone?”

“Clint?” Jason’s tone changes, drops to neutral. Or whatClint had thought was his neutral,until he heard the way Jason greets everyone else. “Sorry. Didn’t know thenumber. Thought you were someone else. You in town?”

“For a couple days,” Clint says. “Gotta work tonight, butthen I’ll be around.”

“Okay,” Jason says. “You gonna stop by after? I can leavethe door unlocked, if it’ll be late.”

“In Gotham?” Clint says. “You’re gonna leave the doorunlocked in Gotham?”

“Sweetheart,” Jason says, with a laugh in his voice, “anyoneballsy enough to come after me in this town isn’t gonna be stopped by a fuckingdeadbolt.”

He doesn’t mean anything by it. Clint remembers Jason calledsomeone sweetheart in the bar, onthat first night, and then he’d smashed that guy’s face into a pool table, soclearly it’s not an actual term of endearment. It’s not a petname. It doesn’tmean anything.

“I’ll be by,” he says. He hadn’t planned on it. But hedoesn’t care what his plans were. “Lock your door, though. I’ll pick it when Iget there.”

“Look at you,” Jason says, sounding amused and maybepleased. “Guess I’ll see you later then.”

“Sure,” Clint says, and hangs up before he says somethingstupid like Looking forward to it or It’ll be good to see you again.

After that, Clint always calls, and they plan to meet atJason’s apartment, or at some bar, or in a series of 24-hour diners. Jason’sonly late once, and Clint isn’t worried,because it’s not his place to worry about him, but he goes looking anyway, justto pass the time.

He finds Jason in an alley, fighting three men. All three ofthem have knives, but Jason’s fighting with his fists, and his body armor isgood enough that there isn’t much blood. But there is blood, and it bothers Clint, seeing it.

Clint drops all three of them, arrows punched right intotheir hearts. He waits on the rooftop, catching his breath, while Jason collectsthe arrows and then climbs the fire escape to meet him.

“Hey,” Clint says, when Jason steps onto the roof, arrows inone hand and helmet in the other. “Sorry, didn’t mean to interrupt your work.But the bars close in an hour, you know? Kinda want to get a beer.”

“Fuck the bars,” Jason says. He walks right up to him, pinshim against the nearest gargoyle, and Clint can feel the warmth of him, throughall the leather and body armor he wears. “I’ve got beer at home,” he says,mouth right against his throat.

“Shit,” Clint says, tipping his head back to give him moreroom. “Okay, sure. We can go wherever you want.”

So it’s not a thing, but it’s a recognizable pattern. Everytime he calls, Jason lets him in. They never say goodbye, because Clint alwaysleaves when Jason isn’t looking, sneaks out while he’s in the shower ordisappears after Jason goes out on patrol. And that’s shitty, probably, justleaving like that, but Jason never calls him on it, so maybe he doesn’t mind.

It’s not a thing. It’s nothing.

It’s still the closest thing to an actual relationship witha person that Clint’s had since he left the circus. Unless you count AgentCoulson, who’s been dogging him for at least two years. Which Clint sure ashell does not, because he’s runninglow on scraps of dignity but isn’t completely in the red yet.

Whatever they have, it doesn’t explain why Clint’s here,standing outside of Jason’s apartment at a truly unholy hour of the morning,pounding his bloody fist against door.

“Fuck,” he says, quietly, to himself, and tries not to swayin place.  

[ifishouldvanish]

Receipt In the Bag? (Part 3)

Screaming Orgasm

SUMMARY: Everyone in town dreads checking out at the Dark Star Pharmacy when Lacey French is working the register. Well, everyone except Mr Gold. THIS CHAPTER: These two needed to bond someplace other than the checkout line. This is the most ridiculous thing I have ever written. Sorry. RATING: T WORDS: 1,357

[Read on AO3]

Part 1: Duct Tape and Rope Part 2: A Gallon of Bleach

The Rabbit Hole is generally the last place where Mr Gold would care to spend his free time, but with Lacey French seated next to him, he can't help feeling like the luckiest man in the world. She's told him all about the various customers she's gotten all day, and how this one guy bought like, five hundred scratch-off tickets and held up the line while he scratched them all off. Worse still, the next person in line had the fuckin’ nerve to blame her for the wait.

That Lacey is still able to consistently bless everyone with her delightful sense of humor while dealing with such utter reprobates all day long speaks highly of her character, Gold thinks.

“One Screaming Orgasm.” The bartender says, sliding the cocktail across the countertop and tucking the tab under the glass. Lacey checks the total and reaches for her purse.

“No, no.” Gold insists, plucking the tab off of the counter. “I'll get it,” he says, sliding his wallet out of his coat pocket.

“Aww. Thank you, baby.” Lacey stretches toward him to plant a kiss on his cheek. “You're so sweet.”

“Not as sweet as you, Miss French.” He croons, drawing a finger along her jawline and inviting her in for a soft kiss on the lips. “Not even all the candy in aisle seven can compare...”

Lacey bites her lip and they gaze into each other's eyes. After all, it was in aisle seven that they first met. Mr Gold remembers that glorious afternoon like it was only yesterday.

  “Mr Big bar, huh?” The woman asked, taking a break from stocking the bottom shelves to peer into his basket.

“Oh.” Gold chuckled awkwardly as he met her startlingly blue eyes. “Yes.”

She let out a snort and shook her head. “You know what the uh, slogan for those used to be?”

“No, I-- I’m afraid not.”

She reached up to the other shelf, taking another long, thick, Mr Big bar into her hand. “When you’re this big, they call you mister,” she told him, wiggling her brows and grinning ear to ear before placing it back on the shelf.

“...Oh.” He smiled politely and continued browsing the shelves, not quite sure what to say to that.

“Hey. You’re um… Mr Gold, right?” She said, rising to her feet and leaning against the stock cart. She was looking at him in a peculiar way that made his mouth feel dry and his palms sweaty.

“That’s… always been my name.”

“...Right.” She said, a knowing little smirk tugging at the corner of her mouth. “Well, I’m Lacey. Let me know if I can help you find anything.” She eyed him for a moment longer, biting her lip, and winked. “...Mister Gold.”

She pushed the dolly around the endcap and to the next aisle, her hips swaying from side to side with each step in her practical, slip-resistant shoes. It was in that moment that Mr Gold realized grocery shopping would never be the same again.

 “And you, sir?” The bartender coughs, pulling Gold out of his blissful reverie.

“Oh, I… Scotch. Neat.”

Lacey stops sucking down her cocktail. “I'll um, get the next one.” She says around the straw.

“No, no, no,” he tuts. “Have as many as you want-- it’s all on me, sweetheart.”

She narrows her eyes at him and wets her lips. “As many orgasms as I want?”

Gold leans in closely, brushing his lips against her ear. “Until you can hardly walk, my dear.”

“Mm…” She moans and slides a hand over his thigh. “...You'll have to give me a safe ride home then.” She whispers.

He pulls away a little to smile at her. “I'll give you a safe ride to wherever you like--” he says, rubbing their noses together, “my naughty little customer service specialist.”

Lacey giggles and gives him a playful slap on the wrist.

“Alternatively,” he adds huskily, tucking a lock of hair behind her ear. “I could give you some cab fare. Or wait with you while a friend picks you up. ...Would you like that?”

“Oh, I’m up for just about anything, baby.” She murmurs as the bartender sets his drink down with a thud.

He brushes his thumb along her cheek. “We’ll just have to see where the evening takes us, now won’t we?”

“Maybe it will take me hard and fast on the floor or against the wall.”

“Miss French--” he scoffs, “you’re incorrigible.”

The bartender, still standing over them, clears his throat. “Your scotch, sir.” He says, nudging the glass closer to him.

Gold huffs and rolls his eyes at the interruption. “Yes. I can see that.” He mutters, and the bartender mumbles a quick apology as he scurries off to the other end of the bar.

“You know, my job title is actually customer service manager .” Lacey informs him proudly.

“Hmm.” A sly grin spreads across his face and he eyes her appraisingly for a moment. “That must be what it is, then.”

She furrows her brows. “What what is?”

“What makes you so--” he takes her hand and presses a kiss to it, “completely irresistible.”

She bites back a smile, glowing under his praise. “You think so?”

He gives her a sidelong look as he sips his drink. “Well, I do love to see a woman in control.”

Lacey scoots to the edge of her seat, sliding a hand over his. “The other day-- when Will was working the register-- this lady tried to combine coupons, so I told her-- ‘Sorry lady, but that's just like, against store policy.’ And because I become acting manager whenever Mr Clark is out, she just had to like... deal with it.”

“Mm… Pity I wasn't there to see that.” Gold moans. “I might have to try combining coupons one day just so you can reprimand me-- my little retail vixen.”

“You know…” Lacey fingers at his tie teasingly, “if you uh, really wanted to get in trouble, you could write more than one bad check in a six-month period.” She says. “Or a single bad check for three hundred dollars or more in merchandise.”

“Oh?” He licks his lips and scoots closer. “And what might the punishment for that be?”

“We make a copy of your ID to put on file, and for the next three months, you're only allowed to pay cash. Store policy.”

Gold shivers and shifts in his seat. “You know how to drive a man absolutely mad, sweetheart.”

“Well, I might make an exception for you,” she says, eyes focused on him as she circles her finger along the rim of his glass. “...My number one customer.”

“Oh no.” He blushes. “I insist you punish me using the full extent of your authority--” he says, leaning in and nuzzling her neck. “... customer service manager.”

“Oh? You like that-- don't you, baby?”

Gold inhales deeply. “I do. But-- you would violate store policy for me?” He clicks his tongue. “Such a bad girl...”

Lacey licks her lips and grabs his tie again, eyeing him hungrily. “Say that again, baby-- Tell me I'm a bad girl.”

He can't fight the cocky little grin that blooms across his face. How could any man refuse such a request? “...You're a bad girl, Miss French.”

With a tug of his tie and a little groan, Lacey's in his lap with her mouth on his. The Rabbit Hole falls silent as their tongues slap and tangle together. Someone drops their glass, and not even the crashing sound it makes as it shatters onto the floor is enough to tear them apart. Their groans and gasps for air fill the establishment, much to the other guests’ revulsion.

It isn't until the collective disgust wears off and everyone returns to their small talk and billiard games that they finally part from each other.

Lacey catches her breath and wipes her face with the back of her hand. She cups his face in her hands and wets her lips. “Take me home already, you sexy little man, you.”

Oh yes. He was, in actual fact, the luckiest man in the world.