#are there gloves that you can use a touchscreen with or something??

[alltheshadesofamber]

wait a minute how does chuuya use his phone if he’s wearing gloves

[scary-grace]

(secret) santa, baby - part 9 of a shigaraki x f!reader fic

Shigaraki doesn't want to participate in the office's Secret Santa exchange, but when Toga promises to make it easy on him, he gives in. But making it easy for him makes it a lot harder for you -- you're the one who got his list. Office AU, no quirks. A fic in 12 parts. Divider by @ wcnderlnds

part i part ii part iii part iv part v part vi part vii part viii

part ix (snowed in)

When Tomura gets back to his desk, there’s a present waiting for him. Tomura’s Secret Santa doesn’t need REMEDIAL GIFT-WRAPPING, which means he can rule out anyone who was there as a suspect. Tomura peels open the wrapping paper and finds a pair of gloves – and a note. With the gifts, there’s always a note, and the notes have been getting longer. Whoever his Secret Santa is, they have more to say to him than they used to. Tomura’s weird enough that he likes the notes almost as much as he likes the gifts.

Dear Tomura, this one reads. I know I’m off-list again, but I saw these and they reminded me of you. A lot of the things I see remind me of you, but I think you’d be freaked out if I bought you most of them. I kind of want to ask Toga to ask you what you think of what you’ve gotten. If I’ve missed something obvious. Or if you’ve thought of other things you’d like since you made your list.

Tomura’s thought of other things, yeah. The problem is, he’s usually only thought of them after he’s opened a gift from his Secret Santa that has one of those things in it. Whoever his Secret Santa is, they’re good at this. Better than him, even if he knows how to wrap presents now. He keeps reading the note. I’d like to say I got the gloves in advance, but if I’m being honest, they’re extra. I saw the storm in the forecast and I thought about how cold it already gets down in the basement. I can think of better ways to keep your hands warm, but this is probably the most practical. Merry almost Christmas! Yours, your Secret Santa.

The gloves are lightweight when Tomura puts them on, but warm and soft on the inside – and they’re touchscreen gloves, so Tomura won’t have to take them off to use his tablet or his phone. They’re exactly right, just like all the other gifts Tomura’s Secret Santa has gotten him, but even as he folds the note and tucks it away in the same place he’s kept the others, he keeps getting stuck on the idea of other ways to warm his hands.

It’s fucking freezing in the basement, and it’s empty, even though it’s technically still work hours. Did everybody else just bail after the gift-wrapping thing?  If nobody else is here, Tomura’s not sticking around, either. He packs up his stuff and heads upstairs. Maybe he can get home before this storm or whatever it is kicks up in earnest. But when Tomura gets to the lobby, he finds out that he’s missed his window. The sky’s already darkened, and the parking lot is already covered in a layer of snow.

Tomura waited too long. If he hadn’t stuck around to wrap gifts with you – but even as he has the thought, he realizes that he doesn’t regret it even a little bit. It’s worth it, even if it means that he has to trudge through snow to the train station. You take the train home from work, too, don’t you? Tomura knows you had more work to do after the two of you finished the gifts. You told him so. What if you’re still here?

Your part of the office doesn’t have windows. Maybe you haven’t seen what the weather’s like. Tomura turns away from the front doors and heads back into the building to give you a heads-up.

You look surprised to see him, when he gets to your desk – but you aren’t unhappy. “Hey. Did you find, um – what are those?”

“The gloves? Secret Santa gift.” Tomura looks around your desk, trying to see if the gift he left you is anywhere. “Did you open yours?”

“Do you like them?”

“I’m wearing them.” If Tomura didn’t like them, he’d have put them in his desk and forgotten about them. He spots the stapled-shut paper bag he left for you this morning sticking out of your backpack. “Do you not like opening yours in front of people?”

“I was saving it so I’d have something to open tomorrow,” you say. “I heard somebody say that the office might be closed because of the storm.”

The snow. Right. There was a reason Tomura came up here, and it wasn’t just so he could see you again. “It’s already snowing. We should go now if we don’t want the trains to stop running on us.”

You look surprised. “You came to get me?”

“You take the train, too,” Tomura says. He doesn’t get why you’re looking at him like that. “We can walk together.”

“Okay,” you say. You smile at him, and Tomura’s face flushes badly enough that he actually considers covering it with his hands. “I’ll get my stuff.”

The weather looked bad when Tomura was just watching it through the doors, but once the two of you actually get out in it, Tomura realizes that it’s even worse than he thought. It’s the stupid wind. It keeps changing direction, blasting snow and ice crystals into his face no matter which way he looks, and the hood of his coat won’t stay up. His ears are freezing, even though his hair is covering them. It’s not a long walk to the train station, but Tomura knows he’ll have a splitting headache by the time he gets there.

“Here.” You’re wearing a hat and a scarf, and you take off the hat and offer it to Tomura. Tomura tries to say no, but you put it on him anyway, tugging it down over his ears. “I’m not the one who hates the cold.”

You’re right, but something about it strikes Tomura as weird. “How’d you know I hate the cold?”

“Everybody knows that.”

Tomura’s pretty sure everybody doesn’t. If they did, he’d get a lot more ironic let-it-snow shit from his friends around Christmas. There’s only one place you could have heard that, which means that you either know who his Secret Santa is – or it’s you. “Where did you hear that?”

“Sorry?” You’re rewrapping your scarf, pulling it up over your face. “Couldn’t hear you. The wind is really loud.”

The wind is loud and it’s getting worse. Tomura can ask you again once you’re at the train station and out of the weather. “Never mind. Let’s go.”

You and Tomura started out walking side by side. By the time you approach the train station, you’re walking pressed close together, your hand grasping Tomura’s arm, Tomura leaning into you as much as he can without falling over. Part of him feels stupid about it. You’re not fighting your way through a blizzard or something. The rest of him is too happy with it to care. His ears are warm and he’s wearing warm gloves that he got from his Secret Santa who might be you, and you decided you wanted to hold his arm without him doing anything. In spite of the weather, Tomura can’t count this as anything but a win.

The station platform is empty when you get there, and Tomura feels a hit of foreboding even before he sees that every arrival screen is flashing the same message. “Out of service?”

You fumble your phone out of your pocket, almost dropping it. “They just shut down. We missed it by five minutes.”

Fuck. “We can’t stay out here,” Tomura says, and you nod. You don’t have gloves. Your hands are shaking. “We should go back to the office.”

“They have to keep the heat on so the pipes don’t freeze,” you say. “And we can probably get the lights back on even if Maintenance turned them off.”

Tomura’s pretty sure Maintenance left before the two of you did. You were the last ones still in the building. Everybody else left because of the storm, and if Tomura had just left instead of going back to tell you, he’d have been on the last train home – and you’d have been stuck at the office in bad weather, by yourself. Tomura doesn’t like thinking about it. He doesn’t like thinking about it so much that even if he’d known for a fact that going back to get you would have meant he’d be snowed in with you, he’s sure he’d have gone anyway.

He waits for you to put your phone away, then grabs your hands in his gloved ones. “Do you want your hat back?”

“It looks better on you,” you say. There’s nothing on the planet that would look better on Tomura than on you, and Tomura almost says so, except the way you’re looking at him is enough of a distraction that he can’t get the words out in the right order. “Come on. Let’s get back before it gets worse.”

It’s already worse on the way back. There’s more snow on the ground and more ice crystals whipping around in the air, and Tomura’s shivering on every step. You aren’t walking with your hand on his arm anymore. This time you’ve got your arm wrapped around him, even though you’re shorter than he is, holding on tight as the two of you shuffle along. Tomura wants to get inside and out of the wind more than he’s ever wanted anything in his life. And at the same time, he’s dreading the second when you’ll let him go.

<- part viii part x ->

[mentallyshattered]

This is part 11 of the "What if Yuu didn't want to go back?" Series!

(I, the author of this work, do not consent to this work being crossposted/translated without my knowledge or used to train an AI, ever.)

Masterlist

By the time I leave, I have a ready-to-use phone and a phone case that somehow reminds me of both Grim and Pomefiore, courtesy of Rook. And, bonus: the touchscreen works through my gloves, so I can use it after class without taking them off and risking losing them.

Grim seems to like the charger more than the phone- naturally. He's a cat, the charger is a long thing that waves and dangles, that's what I figured would happen.

"No, Grim, don't bite that. Come on, let's put on our dorm uniforms and go find a nice stick to make a toy out of."

"Nice stick? How am I supposed to hold that?"

"You aren't. I have a piece of string to tie to it."

"So..."

"I can wave the stick around, and you can chase the string."

Grim's face lights up, and he magically changes into his dorm clothes without further instruction or prompting. I head into the closet.

The dorm uniform is incredibly comfy. The fabric is not only soft, but also tailored to fit me, and thermal in such a way that I'm never cold. I ought to wear this more.

When I reenter the room, Grim hops readily onto my shoulder. Off to find a toy, I suppose.

But, even as I search, something eats at me. It's nothing I don't recognize, but it's nothing I can just deal with- it's the knowledge that, out of all the people here, I am the only one with no magic.

Just knowing I've made it this far, so far, and I'm missing that one final thing- Grim wants to be a great sorcerer, so I either hold him back by keeping him with me 24/7, stick with him and watch as I pretend I'm okay with being so close to magic, and yet so far from having any of my own, or die.

I don't want to die. Not anymore. Not now, not when my death will actually hurt people. Not when there are people who will miss me and mourn me and wish I stayed. Not when my absence will open an unfillable hole in someone's heart.

I don't want anyone to feel that, because I've felt it myself, and it hurts. It hurts so much, like there's a part of you that's just void, and it's sucking the life out of you, bit by bit.

I felt that. For years, I felt that, killing me wholly and forcing me to live, day after night after miserable day, with no end in sight.

No. I won't die now. I'll wait until I've lost Grim and Vil and Rook and Epel and Korrak and Mandible and Deuce and Ace. I'll die when I'm just a distant memory of "one of our roomies in college," and "that classmate from my first year at Night Raven," and "the freshman with the flame-eared familiar."

I will die when I am nothing more than "that blurry memory of someone I knew and forgot."

"Monseur Mystery."

Rook's voice is soft, and tender, and worried, and caring, and kind. Kind. Kind, because he doesn't care about my lack of magic- he cares about me, the freshman with the flame-eared familiar. He cares about me, Monseur Mystery. He cares about me. Me, someone he knows and hasn't forgotten.

I needed that reminder. It's so quiet out here. My thoughts spiral and I can't stop it and there are tears streaming down my face, leaving little dark spots on Rook's dorm uniform.

I blink. Weren't we just on the ground? This ground is soft, like- oh, Rook moved us into a tree. I'm sitting on his thigh, not leaves. That makes sense.

No matter. With his arms wrapped around me and my arms wrapped around his waist, I am safe. That much, I know.

Grim is saying something. I hear his words, I know what they mean, but the dots go unconnected, and I take comfort in simply knowing he's here.

"Monseur Mystery, I hope you do not mind. Vil wishes to see you."

Vil. Another person to whom I am not just a distant, fading memory. Another person who cares about the freshman with the flame-eared familiar. Another person who cares about Yuu.

Rook is tapping on glass now. I am still crying, tears still running down my cheeks and into the fabric of Rook's uniform.

Another pair of strong arms wrap around me, pulling me into an embrace that's warm like the heat from a lit fireplace and strong like the house it's built into.

Secure. I feel secure here, held by two people who are, in some way, my parents, the first parents I've ever had, and never had, because, somehow, I still feel as though my life has yet to start. Like I've never been born, but I've died nonetheless.

Despite that, I feel safe and secure and loved, for the first time in what's not yet my life, but not the first, rather, just the most intense.

Back then, when Vil cut and brushed my hair, when I told them how I'd known Grim's name, I had tried to hold back my tears. I wasn't just sad, I was scared, scared this new world would be just as cruel as the last.

But, here, now, I let the sadness show in my sobs, in my sniffles, in my hiccups, in my tears.

For the first time, I am embracing sorrow, and I am nearly alive, closer than ever before.

The tears have stopped. The despair has lessened. The sadness has given way to joy. Faint joy, but joy nonetheless.

Vil is holding my face in his hands, meeting my eyes with violet irises filled with compassion, the likes of which is so intense I could never dream it.

"What's wrong? Why were you crying?"

I look away from him for only a moment, because that's all the time it takes for me to realize I crave his affection and the look in his eyes.

"All I need is magic," my voice is breaking, "and that's the one thing I don't have."

"You know," Grim pipes up, "remember the thing with the water glass? You said the ripples on the surface were because of the footsteps of the students walking in the hall."

"Well... yeah. That's what footsteps do."

"The footsteps of five people, all at least twenty meters away and trying to muffle their footsteps? On these solid floors?"

Wait. Grim has a point. Could those ripples have really been... me?

No. "There are a thousand things other that magic that could've caused that, Grim. Not all of them were there, sure, but only one had to be."

"Let me see your magestone." Vil's sudden request catches me off guard.

"Why?"

Vil just holds out his hand. "You'll see."

I hand him my magestone, and he holds it up to the light.

"Perhaps," he begins, "it is for the better that you know no spells."

The gem shines a beautiful black, all the way through- with the sole exception of three little lines of Pomefiore purple at the bottom that form a sort of upside-down trident head.

"Why is that, Vil?"

"Because," he smiles, "you would've overblotted by now if you used any magic."

"Overblotted?" For once, mine and Grim's voices are in total unison.

"Yes. Using too much magic, with no rest, causes blot buildup. But," he places my magestone back in my palm, "so do negative emotions."

"What are you?.."

"Do you know what blot requires, Yuu?"

"Uhh, nope."

Vil smiles, closing my fingers over my obsidianesque gem.

"Magic."

[charliecraftsthings]

Fingertip Gloves ver 2.0

Ever since I modified these gloves, I've felt they still needed improvement. As someone who doesn't know how to knit (yet), I'm still searching for how to make The Perfect Texting Glove.

On those first gloves, I cut some fingers too low, leaving too much bare finger exposed. I made a second pair, where I cut the fingertips higher, and those were great--until it got too cold out and I realised I had nowhere to hide my fingertips!

My latest idea is to cut a little slit in the finger, so I can poke my fingertip through, and pull it back if it's too cold. I'm using conductive fingertip gloves so I can still use the touchscreen, but can unlock my phone with the fingerprint scanner if I want. It's almost like my fingertips have hoodies!

Instructions after the break.

At first (light grey edging) I tried cutting the fingertip and then reinforcing. This made the slit bigger and sloppier than I wanted; when weaving in the ends, I used whipstitch to try to keep the opening tidier and prevent fraying. I might go over the reinforcement with a fuzzy haloed yarn.

On the second glove (blue), I used surface crochet before cutting the slit. This turned out much better! The margins were cleaner, the slit was narrower, and the whole thing felt better.

You can see the differences better when there's a hand inside:

Materials:

Gloves you want to modify

A thin yarn or thread for reinforcing the slit (I use Lang Jawoll Reinforcement Yarn)

A tiny crochet hook (I used 1.25 mm)

Embroidery scissors or seam ripper (something to making tiny, precise cuts)

Needle for weaving in ends (thinner than tapestry or embroidery needles)

Optional: method or marking the slit

Instructions:

Put on the glove and figure out where you want the slit to go. Generally it should fall at the finger joint or slightly higher. Mark its position.

Make a tiny incision in the middle of where you want the slit. Use embroidery scissors to snip one "leg" of the "V" the knitted yarn makes.

Using the reinforcement thread, make a slip knot on your crochet hook. Make sure to leave a long enough tail for weaving in (1.5 to 2 needle-lengths).

Use the tiny incision to begin surface crocheting (slip stitch through the fabric) around where you want the slit. You're drawing a perimeter.

After one round, do a second round of slip stitch, working in the back loop only (or however you wish).

Join and fasten off, leaving a long enough tail to weave in.

Take a deep breath.

Use the embroidery scissors or seam ripper to carefully, one stitch at a time, cut open the slit. I like to snip one leg of the "V", then pull out the second leg. I don't know if this is the best way, but it's how I do it.

Test the glove. If the slit needs widening or tightening, now is the time to do it.

When it fits nicely (like a glove, you might say), weave in your ends.

Text and unlock with impunity!

[demifiendcruithne]

@kiragecko would a bluetooth connector help you with listening to music while walking? i have Very Specific needs for my headphones (they have to clip onto my ear) and the only ones i can find only come in wired, but i can't attach some form of volume/music control to the headphones without a lot more wires. but i managed to find a bluetooth control on a clip that connects to my phone and has a headphone jack, and with that i can hit play/pause forward/back volume control as actual buttons

something like this. it easily clips onto clothing or onto a bag strap, although i don't know if you can combine it with wireless headphones since i specifically got it for wired accessibility

(fingerless gloves might also be an option, but i'm going to guess you've either tried them already or can't find any that work for you - i use them for more grip but it's a heck to find good ones...)

(and i don't have anything more to add on touchscreen-related problems besides that yeah these are good points and people need to take us into account so this is mostly a 'hey i might be able to suggest help with this one specific issue' reblog, but i don't mean it to outshadow the others at all or anything)

Replacing physical buttons and controls with touchscreens also means removing accessibility features. Physical buttons can be textured or have Braille and can be located by touch and don't need to be pressed with a bare finger. Touchscreens usually require precise taps and hand-eye coordination for the same task.

Many point-of-sale machines now are essentially just a smartphone with a card reader attached and the interface. The control layout can change at a moment's notice and there are no physical boundaries between buttons. With a keypad-style machine, the buttons are always in the same place and can be located by touch, especially since the middle button has a raised ridge on it.

Buttons can also be located by touch without activating them, which enables a "locate then press" style of interaction which is not possible on touchscreens, where even light touches will register as presses and the buttons must be located visually rather than by touch.

When elevator or door controls are replaced by touch screens, will existing accessibility features be preserved, or will some people no longer be able to use those controls?

Who is allowed to control the physical world, and who is making that decision?

[atplblog]

Price: [price_with_discount] (as of [price_update_date] - Details) [ad_1] Product Description Are you looking for something to warm yourself or your partner in the cold winter?Do you want some gift inexpensive but with decent quality and for your friends?If so, please take me home. MULTI-FUNCTION BEANIE HAT : You can use this multi-function beanie hat and scarf set together or separately as you will. It will keep your head, ears, face, hand and neck warm. Simple and classic never goes wrong. Knitting Garment Care: Recommend Hand Wash to keep its shape / Laundry bag is needed while Machine Wash / Hang dry FREE SIZE Touchscreen GLOVES SET The Unique and Practical 2 Touchscreen Fingers Capability design, very Convenient and Great for Texting/Typing/Riding/Driving and Writing in cold winter; Comfortable and high quality Magic gloves material with excellent elasticity, Stretches to fit most hands, You can easily get a custom fit according to your hands. Pair off with your favorite Outfit. Total Length: 8.26"-8.85" Hand Circumference: 7.08"-8.26" Product Dimensions ‏ : ‎ 22 x 18 x 5 cm; 200 g Date First Available ‏ : ‎ 27 November 2020 Manufacturer ‏ : ‎ Reffer Trade ASIN ‏ : ‎ B08P9FBWGC Item model number ‏ : ‎ No. 4678886 Country of Origin ‏ : ‎ China Department ‏

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[weerentheworld]

Quebec the good the bad and the cold

The good

The Quebec winter carnival 

Not only in terms of general awesomeness, but also in terms of value

I bought one pass for about $30 and got access to multiple carnival sites and activities!

it was thanks to this I was able to try ice climbing! I can’t imagine getting such bang for my buck in the us.

Jacques-Cartier National Park Snowshoeing Tour

As much as I loved the city it was really nice to be able to get out in nature. This also struck me as an especially well run tour. The guide was friendly and I really appreciated the snacks and bits of knowledge along the way. Run by Quadra Natures

Snow tubing near the ice hotel

This was unexpected but really fun! I’ve never been snow tubing somewhere they had this many runs!

Ice skating at Place D'Youville skating rink

ice skating right next to an old rampart! How neat is that?!

But also the price to rent skates was very fair the facilities were clean, staff was polite and I really appreciated that they had balance aids for the less experienced that the staff didn’t judge me for using.

The bad

(Honestly less the bad and more the wish i’d know or would recommend less section. This trip didn’t really have any true bad :) but for the sake of lining up with other posts in this format it seems only fair to write something!)

The winter carnival website

While the carinal itself is great, the website for the carinal can be a little challenging to find information on. It’s more focused on advertising exciting things, then giving practical information. Also I couldn’t find a way to sort by day. I also had to rely on other travel blogs to find essential info like how to get tickets once I was there.

The printed pamphlets and maps you can get on-site are organized much more clearly.

Snow tubing near the ice hotel

I wish I’d known about this before hand- but it wasn’t at all advertised when I booked the bus/ticket to the ice hotel. Knowing about it in advance would have helped me to better plan my trip.

It’s absolutely worth it, but it does run about $60 per person which is a price point it’s nice to know about in advance. Also know before you go: there are height restrictions for kids, and some of the runs need a min of 2 riders.

The cold

Depending on where you’re from and weather conditions when you visit you may not consider Quebec all that cold.

This section isn’t for you. This section is for other folks who are from a climate where we consider anything below 50 cold and don’t always have winter gear on hand!

What I wore:

3 pairs of pants (I tried less, it was too cold for me)

1 waterproof outer layer

1 water resistant insulated middle layer (these were also the legging I wore for a lot of the iceland trip)

1 thermal underware layer

3 torso layers

1 coat, with a waterproof shell and puffy lining

1 iceland sweater 

1 undershirt - ideally this should be something moisture wicking

1 blanket scarf

1 ski hat

2 pairs of gloves- although not at the same time. I couldn’t find a pair that was warm, waterproof, fit, and had touchscreen capabilities in time so I swapped them back and forth as needed.

2 pairs of socks - I really only needed one during the day, but it got cold at night

waterproof boots 

Do plan to bring what you need! I thought for sure I’d be able to easily find gloves/extra socks there but it wasn’t as easy as expected (although I didn’t look that hard in fairness, so it's really just that I didn't see those items on every corner)

[megananash-blog]

Amazing Black Friday Deals that You Can Shop Right Now!

Here is a list of some of some of my faves and items on my wishlist that you can get amazing deals on right now on Amazon for their Black Friday sales! 

FRAMEO 10.1 inch WiFi Digital Picture Frame - $47.18

This is a really good deal for a digital picture frame. They're normally about twice this amount. It's fun to be able to see all of the photos that aren't normally printed off come across the screen. Great reliving fun memories! 

Yeti Ramber Travel Mug 16 oz. - $22.50

This is my absolute favorite travel mug that keeps drinks hot or cold for so long! It is also dishwasher safe making it extra awesome and it's made form a tough stainless steel material! 

Nodpod Weighted (Gentle Pressure) Sleep Mask - $27.20

This is one of my favorite finds on Amazon! I love the gentle pressure of the weighted sleep mask and it also does a great job filtering light out. This sleep mask really does help me to fall asleep more quickly! Definitely recommend! 

Everywhere Belt Bag - $15.99

This bag is so cute and practical! It comes in other colors if pink isn't your thing. It can hold a good amount in a 2L size. Wear it crossbody or around your waist. 

Ecolution Patented Micro-Pop Microwave Popcorn Popper - $15.99

My mom gave this to me a few years ago as part of my Christmas present and I still use it a ton and it makes really great popcorn that you can add your own ingredients to so you know it doesn't have any added ingredients you don't want. And...it's delicious and fun for movie nights as a family! 

NUTR Nut Milk Maker - $169.99

This is one of the nerdy things that I think is really cool. I haven't tried it yet, but it's on my wishlist so I can make my own non-dairy milk at home. I've heard that it's amazing and works really well. It's not really on sale, but I still wanted to include it. 

Silk lined winter hat - $11.89

These hats are cute and simple to go with everything, but lined in satin to help it not be itchy if you're wearing the hat for awhile. 

ViGrace Womens Winter Touchscreen Gloves - $13.99

I have these gloves and they are so soft and warm plus they really do work with touchscreens! 

T WILKER 2Pcs Kids Winter Knitted Hats+Scarf Set - $14.69 

These are my fave for my kids! Both warm and so soft inside! My son hates things that are "itchy" and these were approved by him! 

Apple Watch SE -  $179

Amazing deal on this Apple Watch! It's perfect for everything that I need at a slightly cheaper price than if you want all of the newest features that I probably wouldn't even use. 

Shiatsu Neck and Back Massager - $36.79

I bought this for my husband last year and he actually uses it a lot. It's the gift that keeps on giving for both of us! Lives up to the hype and the 55,000+ positive reviews. 

Peloton Bike - $1,095 

Of course, this is quite the investment. If you love biking and the convenience of working out at home, then this is a great investment at a good price. Something to think about is the monthly membership is around $48/month so it feels similar to the price of a gym membership, but you can do it from home. There are also lots of other kinds of workouts on the app from yoga, barre, weight lifting, and more! I don't regret this purchase! The classes and teachers are always so good! 

Fire HD 10 Plus tablet - $109.99

I have this tablet and I'm a big fan! It's a great price for everything that I need, but still has great features! You can watch shows or movies, but it also works really well as a digital calendar or you can write notes on it with a stylus. It's exactly what I wanted at a great deal. 

Fire 7 Kids tablet - $54.99

My kids have these tablets and they are perfect for them! It has everything that they need at a great price and parental controls so you can make sure their screen time is safe and age appropriate. 

Kids Echo Dot (5th Gen) - $27.99

My kids have these Kids Echo Dot devices and they're really fun! You can tell the Alexa the age of your kids and they filter out music or material that isn't age appropriate. My kids listen to music, audio books, get weather updates, play games and more with this device! Definitely recommend! 

Levoit Air Purifier - $109.99

I just bought this air purifier a few months ago and I think it really helps with the air quality in our house! I'm very impressed so far especially since we added a dog to our house so hopefully it helps with the air quality and to prevent allergies. 

Yedi Bread Maker - $129.95 (with a $15 coupon that can be added in cart) 

This bread maker made the list of Oprah's favorite things in 2021. It's made from stainless steel so nothing unhealthy will get mixed into your bread. It has 19 settings to make many types of bread to your heart's desire including a gluten free option. 

Ooni Fyra 12 Wood Fired Outdoor Countertop Pizza Oven - $244.30

This is another one that is on my wishlist! Normally it's $350 so it's about one hundred dollars off. My research tells me that it makes the best pizza ever in about 60 seconds! 

*If you buy anything through these Amazon links, I may get a small percentage back as an incentive. These are still my real opinions about products that I have used myself and am giving my honest opinion about.

[caroldantops]

wanna be your victim, ready for abduction

ship: tentacle monster!wanda maximoff x reader

summary/request: mating season makes wanda moody. companion piece to infect me with your lovin’, fill me with your poison (not required, but recommended)

word count: 3.8k

warnings: dark themes and smut (18+ proceed with caution), dark dom wanda, dubcon, kidnapping, implied drugging and somno, noncon medfet, stockholm syndrome, pet play adjacent, forced intimacy, pet names (little one, pet, human), abuse, vaginal sex (reader receiving), tentacle sex, oviposition, pregnancy, breeding kink, size kink, praise kink

masterlist | monsterfucker celebration 2022 masterlist 

A sharp rush of electricity across your skin wakes you violently from your unconscious state. Your body reacts on its own, jerking in the bounds you had no idea you were in. The distinct smell of a sterile hospital room fills your senses, and you start mentally taking stock of any signs of pain in your body. Was there an accident? Were you carried to an emergency room? Do hospitals usually secure you to operating tables like this?

Other than the dissipating shocks still tingling through your body and the disorientation that still has your vision blurred, everything feels normal. You blink a few times, trying to adjust your eyes in the harsh light from the lamp angled at your face.

The room comes into clearer focus, and you're even more confused than you were already. It looks more like a lab than a hospital room. The light blue of the tile floor shimmers under the fluorescent lights, almost iridescent, like one of those pretty jellyfish when their translucent skin catches the light peeking through the ocean waves. There's the faint imprint of what looks to be a high-tech door on the wall opposite you, beyond another table similar to the one you're strapped to. You suppose the keypad next to the faint outline of the door is what slides it open. Next to you is a table with various medical tools. Scalpels, gloves, forceps. The one on the very end makes your eyebrows knit together in confusion.

What could be happening to you that warranted use of a speculum?

"Hello?" Your voice is raspy. Suddenly, you're made incredibly aware of how dry your mouth is. You wiggle in your bounds again. This time, they feel looser - perhaps from your sudden struggling earlier. You're able to squeeze your wrists out of the cuffs, which leave angry red marks where they dug into your skin. You rub them, pouting.

Nobody responds. You sit up on the table so that you can reach down and uncuff your ankles. The cuffs unbuckle easily, and you slide off of the table after that, looking to the other side of the room where you couldn't see before. There's a door on that wall too, with a matching keypad. You steady yourself, still feeling a little weak, before going over to that door. The keypad is a touchscreen. It lights up green as you tap it, but the text that appears is nothing that you can decipher, no language you've ever seen before. After aimlessly tapping to different screens, none of which you can read, the door shockingly slides open with an eerie silence.

You don't even get a chance to react before you're shoved to the ground by something - far too hefty to be a person pushing you down. The tile floor that you were admiring earlier does not offer you a soft landing, and you groan as you push yourself upwards. Your efforts are stopped dead in their tracks by your limbs being pinned to the floor.

Above you, a woman comes into view. Her wild mane of hair frames her stunningly beautiful face, her eyes piercing through you like daggers. For a moment, a wave of calm almost rushes over you at the sight of her. You're not sure why, really. Perhaps just your brain trying to cling to any semblance of hope that was torn away the second you realized that this was not a hospital.

Your eyes trail down her body, widening as they reach the bottom of her torso. Jutting out from her are what can only be described as dark tentacles, thicker and without suctions like octopi have, but tentacles nonetheless. A quick glance at your limbs makes you realize that they are what shoved you down and are pinning you to the ground. You tug at them experimentally, before they're slammed back down.

"You're not very smart, are you?" The woman says to you, tilting her head with slight amusement at the fact that you're still attempting to escape.

"Who the hell are you?" You try to sound intimidating, but you're sure that no matter your efforts, it's useless.

"Does it matter?" You don't know how to answer that. She watches your chest heave from the attempts at wiggling free, which somehow you're still trying. It's cute, seeing you struggle like this. She takes a single ounce of pity on you. "Wanda."

"Great, so what the fuck am I doing here, Wanda? And what the fuck are you?"

Apparently, you've pushed your luck too far, because one of Wanda's tentacles loops up and around your throat, giving you a warning squeeze. She lifts you from the floor, not even sparing you a glance or acknowledging your legs flailing as she carries you back to the table you woke up on.

"Put me do-ow..." The words get choked out of you as she squeezes your throat tighter. Wanda's eyes narrow as you continue to thrash in her grasp. She only lets up and releases her chokehold on you when your body is forced to stop struggling to preserve the little air she allows you. You cough, already dry throat desperate for any sort of relief.

"You're very lucky that you're only useful to me alive," Wanda states, tentacles finally unraveling from your arms. You don't even get the chance to protest or ask what that means - not that your voice would allow it in this state - before you see one of her tentacles spurt out a foggy red mist over your face, and your vision fades to black once again.

The smell of something cooking greets you as you finally come to. Your entire body feels sore, particularly between your legs. You remember the speculum on the medical table and wince. The chill of the room makes you suddenly very aware of your naked body. A few bruises litter your skin. You prod at one on your thigh, hissing at the pain.

Thin metal bars surround you, and you realize that you're in an oversized dog kennel. Wiggling your fingers through the crate, you try to find the latch on the outside, but it's got a blocky device on it that has the same keypad as the laboratory doors did. You huff and grab the soft blanket that’s crumpled up in the corner and wrap it around yourself.

The crate appears to be set up in the corner of a very quaint looking kitchen. That explains the smell. Two women’s voices fill the room. One is Wanda. The angle you’re at doesn’t allow you to fully see her face, but you can just barely make out her hair on the other side of the kitchen island. Sitting on a barstool on the island is a dark haired woman, dressed in a neat purple sweater.

"If you don't expose your human to your true form, do you not think they'll be afraid of you when the time comes?" Wanda asks the other woman, who snorts in response. “What? It’s a fair question, Agatha.”

“Oh, hon,” the woman, Agatha, laughs. “I know this is your first abduction, but you don’t have to act like it. Fun fact, humans tend to soften up more towards other humans versus hideous eldritch beings.”

"So?” Wanda huffs, stirring the pot on the stove that’s giving off the delicious smell. She doesn’t look nearly as scary anymore, tentacles tucked away elsewhere, wearing a long cardigan and mom jeans. For a “hideous eldritch being”, she’s rather adorable.

“You have stacks and stacks of trashy human romance novels on your shelves,” Agatha scoffs. “I shouldn’t have to explain why being nice to the creature you want to mate with is more helpful to you in the long run. Though, guess you always have preferred more instant gratification.”

The word mate rings in your ears. Is that why Wanda took you - to be some vessel for a freaky alien species?

Frantically, you try to mess with the keypad, only for it to flash red symbols at you. Even though you don’t speak the language, you know that means you’re not freeing yourself.

“You roll your eyes at me saying ‘you catch more flies with honey’, but I’ll have you know that my human never tried to escape from a kennel,” Agatha says, without even looking over at you. You freeze. Wanda whips around from the stove, looking much more like the terrifying monster she was earlier.

“What do you think you’re doing?” Wanda says through grit teeth, marching over to your cage.

“Nothing,” you lie. She narrows her eyes. Agatha is silently sipping her tea in the background, watching the mental tug of war with great amusement. To both you and Agatha’s surprise, Wanda simply presses her thumb to the keypad and opens your cage, moving so that you can crawl out.

Still wary of Wanda, you slowly stand up, holding the blanket tighter around your body. Wanda opts to ignore you and go back to the stove, leaving you confused on what to do. You stand there dumbly as Agatha keeps talking to Wanda about her own “pet”. Wanda has her back to you again, and you consider running before you remember the way she so easily overpowered you before.

There’s an empty stool next to Agatha. You tentatively go to sit in it, but just as you touch the seat, Agatha coughs and says, “Wanda, your pet is trying to get on the furniture.”

“Get down,” Wanda says firmly, shooting you a look over her shoulder.

“I want to sit down.”

“Then get on the fucking floor, human,” Wanda spits out the last word like it’s venom. She says it like there’s a hierarchy present, and she’s clearly the apex predator with you beneath her. The bit of self-preservation left in you finally takes over, and you sink to the floor next to the stool. “So, you can listen. Now, crawl over here.”

Humiliation fills your body as you follow Wanda’s orders, crawling the other side of the kitchen island and sitting near Wanda’s feet. You refuse to look up at her, keeping your head ducked down, staring at the hardwood floor. Two bowls are set down in front of you. One is filled with water, the other is filled with what appears to be some kind of stew over rice. You look up at Wanda.

"For me?"

"Can't have you starving now, can I?" Wanda gives you the first smile you've seen from her. Your heart leaps a bit.

"Can I have a fork?"

Agatha finds this very funny for some reason. You shoot her a look, but it's not very intimidating from your position on the floor.

"No, little one. Pets eat on the floor," Wanda pats you on the head condescendingly. When you give her a grumpy look and nudge the bowl away from you in silent protest, her hand reaches out for your head again. Only this time, she tugs your head backwards by your hair, tight grip making you wince. Wanda gets close to your face, eyes intense. "You eat and drink from your bowls, or you don't get any food or water at all."

She releases you aggressively, causing you to topple a bit in your kneeling position. You almost want to call Wanda on her bluff, remembering the comment she made earlier about how she needed you alive. But, your dry mouth and growling stomach have other plans.

You duck down to lap at your water, and you're so thirsty you finish half the bowl in record time before moving on to your dinner. Really, you have no idea how Wanda, who must be some sort of extraterrestrial being, learned to cook human food, but once you taste it, you're certainly not complaining. Wanda and Agatha keep talking about Agatha's pet, ignoring you as you devour your meal.

When you finish, you look up at Wanda. You don't know why, maybe you're hoping for some sort of praise for doing what you've been told. Something to tell you that you've satisfied her for now. She rewards you with such, patting your head and wiping the rice that stuck to your face before slipping a thick collar around your neck.

"What's this for?" You ask, playing with the shiny tag that dangles from it.

"In case you forget who's in charge and try to escape," Wanda says plainly, patting you on your cheek.

“Is all of this really necessary?”

“You ask a lot of questions,” Wanda doesn’t even look up from what she’s typing to answer you. This is the third time in the month you’ve been with her that she’s taken you down to the lab for a “check-up.” Whenever you ask about why she’s giving you full medical exams - and snarkily ask where she got her doctorate - she just shushes you and continues looking at your charts.

You assume it has to do with that comment Agatha made on your first night about mating, but even when you ask about that specifically, Wanda just ignores you and continues your exam.

“You don’t give a lot of answers,” you huff, swinging your legs so your heels hit the side of the bed. Wanda visibly scowls at the thumping noise. “Are you gonna steal my brains or take over the world or something?”

“Only if you keep annoying me.”

“So, that’s a yes.”

“Don’t worry about that, little one,” Wanda hums, finally abandoning the computer to cup your face. You’ve gotten used to her touching you by now, so you don’t squirm away like you often did in the first weeks. “You’ll get your answers very soon.”

“Wanda, it hurts,” you sob. “Please.”

Your limbs are pinned tight, positioned spread eagle on the soft bed that you had just come around to getting comfortable napping in. Wanda’s tentacles twitch slightly around your wrists and ankles, and she hovers above you panting hard, eyes closed in a mix of pleasure and desperation. One tentacle is pushing its way roughly into your cunt, thicker than anything you’ve ever taken before. That doesn’t stop her though. You’re not sure anything would.

“Too bad,” Wanda grunts, tentacle thrusting deeper inside of you. “Don’t you want to be good for me?”

“Y-yes,” you admit. As pathetic as it is, Wanda’s praise has fueled you a lot through your time held captive. You fight back so much that it’s rare, but when she is soft with you, it fills you with warmth that you want to bask in all day. “I’ll be good.”

“Good,” Wanda moans, rewarding you with her fingers on your aching clit. You almost scream at the stimulation, everything too much for your fragile body to handle. A burst of fluids gushes into your cunt, and you assume that means that Wanda’s climaxed. “Good pet.”

Alien anatomy will remain a mystery to you, however, because Wanda just doubles up on her thrusts inside of you. The extra fluid lubricates you enough so that it doesn’t hurt as much, and your eyes roll back in your skull as your body finally succumbs to the pleasure of being stretched and filled.

You hate that you ache to touch Wanda. Maybe it’s just your raging hormones or the forced intimacy that you’ve come to enjoy as of late. You want to wrap your arms and legs around her and pull her body into yours. You crave being able to nuzzle into her skin, maybe even mark her neck like she does yours. But that’s not in the cards for you. At least not now.

You’ll win her over.

It’s not like you have a choice in being here, might as well try to make the most of it.

"Stop that," Wanda scolds, one of her tentacles reaching out and bopping you on the head.

You ignore her, continuing to press your nose to the window, peering into Agatha's home beside yours. Agatha's pet is being tugged into her lap, and you gasp quietly to yourself as you realize that she's slipping a strap into them. "Human, what did I say?"

Wanda marches over to the window beside you, curiosity over what has you entranced overtaking her annoyance with you not listening. She shakes her head when she sees the scene you're watching.

"Little voyeur, are we?" Her hand runs through your hair as your breath catches. "You're lucky Agatha doesn't mind. I think she's actually been planning on this."

"Why don't you ever fuck me like that?"

"What?" Wanda's taken aback by your question.

"You always fuck me with these," you pat the tentacle that's slowly started wrapping around you. It squeezes around you as a warning, but you stupidly ignore it. "I've never even seen Agatha's tentacles."

"She's an idiot. She thinks that her pet won't resist if she waits to show her true form. Her pet will see soon enough.” The thought of the breeding period that the two women talk about still makes your stomach twist in knots. "I was kind and didn't deceive you. I showed you what I was right away."

"Kind is not how I'd put it," you grumble, moving away from the window. Regret immediately hits you as you're jerked back to the couch by Wanda's tentacles. She pins you to the cushions, closing the curtains with another tentacle so Agatha can’t catch a glimpse.

“I don’t appreciate how cocky you’re getting. Do you need a reminder of who you belong to?”

“How could I forget?” You try to avoid her gaze, but she grabs your jaw, forcing you to look into her eyes. It’s hard to tell what Wanda’s moods will be like. Sometimes, you’re able to push her buttons without much punishment. Other times, you’re almost immediately reprimanded for so much as being too slow responding. The drastic shift of moods is the worst part of everything. If Wanda was only cruel to you, you’d at least know to never step out of line, and it would be easier to deny how deeply attached you are to her. It’s almost like she enjoys giving you room to fuck up so she can break you in all over again.

“Would you rather be Agatha’s toy? Is that why you’ve been spying on her lately?”

“Maybe I should,” you growl.

“So, you like her better, huh? Is that it?”

“She’d be better than you! I hate you!” You cry. Wanda looks genuinely wounded by your words for a second, but it doesn’t last long. A tentacle is shoved past your lips, and you immediately gag on the appendage.

“You don’t,” Wanda says in a low voice. You swear you hear her voice crack. “I know you don’t. I see how you look at me. I feel you curl into my side at night. Hell, you were the one to ask to sleep next to me.”

You gurgle around her tentacle, tears streaking down your face. Wanda, overwhelmed by her own emotions, pulls back. You gasp for air, coughing a little. She cups your face, smearing your spit on your chin. Your eyes flutter shut at the comforting motion.

Always soothing the pain she causes.

“Say you love me.”

“Wan--”

“Say it. Say you love me.”

There’s a silent please left in the air. She’s desperate for it, you can hear it in her voice and see it in her watery eyes.

You could make her say it. You could hold that over her, if you wanted. But you take pity on her.

“I love you.”

Wanda knows you mean it. She doesn’t say anything back, just nods and pulls you close to her. You can hear her humming softly, something you’ve noticed she does when she’s upset. You crawl fully into her lap, sighing against her neck. She hesitates for a moment; but, as you settle she finally wraps her arms around you.

“Will you make that rice dinner tonight?”

“Of course, little one.”

Agatha always teased Wanda about how her breeding period made her moody. You didn’t put much stock in it until you got to see for yourself how drastically Wanda’s demeanor shifted after her rut.

Even though you made fun of her for being kind and introducing her alien body early on, it made it much easier on you when Wanda went into a full frenzy one day, pinning you down to the bed and fucking you for hours until you were filled with gooey, wet eggs.

It was drastically different than the other times Wanda had taken you. She didn’t tie you down with her tentacles, but rather held you close to her chest in her arms, breathing heavily against your cheek where she kept pressing kisses and mumbling praises, telling you how good you were doing, how well you were taking her, how pretty you were going to look full of her brood.

Wanda even let you touch her, allowing you to mouth at her tits, tugging on her nipples as she thrusted deeper and deeper into you. After she stuffed you with her eggs, she didn’t let you get up for hours, grabbing anything you needed from the side table with her tentacles.

Since your stomach had become swollen with her, she hasn’t snapped at you once. She’s constantly doting over you, always asking if you need anything and insisting on doing things for you. Though you had long since broken past her pets belong on the floor rule, sometimes you still sat between her legs while you watched television out of habit. But now, Wanda forces you to sit on the couch, propping you up comfortably with plush pillows.

You’re not sure what normal pregnancy feels like in comparison to alien ones, but you assume that human babies don’t come with an occasional subtle glow in your stomach that your alien partner is fascinated with. Wanda’s always touching you now, hands rubbing over your tummy, feeling her eggs shift inside of you.

“You’re beautiful,” she says one day while you lay on the bed with her reading. You look down and see her staring at your stomach, fingers tracing over the subtle outline of the eggs.

“Me or your babies?” You laugh, scratching her scalp as she presses a kiss to your stomach.

“Both, but mainly you.” Wanda crawls further up the bed, meeting your lips in a deep kiss. You moan as she bites your lip, smirking against you. She pulls away, and you see a little sparkle of mischief that you’ve never seen in her eyes.

“Why are you looking at me like that?”

“Nothing,” Wanda hums.

“Liar. Tell me.”

“Oh, I’m just thinking about how much I like you like this. Seeing you full of me.”

“Kinky,” you tease. Though, the statement makes your cheeks heat up with a mix of embarrassment and arousal. Her possession over you has shifted into pure devotion, and you were more than happy about that.

“Mhm. And as soon as these babies hatch…” Wanda presses a small kiss to your cheek and whispers against your skin, “I’m going to fill you up all over again.”

[hxneyandespressx]

since we’re alone, you can show me your heart

summary: what happens when derek gets a nightmare? the only one who can calm him down is his pretty boy

pairing: spencer reid x derek morgan (moreid)

word count:  1.9k

content warnings: mentions of gun and shooting

a/n: set after criminal minds season 11 episode 11 entropy

☆。*。☆。

Spencer ran frantically around his dark and messy apartment, picking up the case files and Chinese takeout boxes that had piled up on his antique coffee table. Few peanut oil stains stuck onto the wooden top. The anxious man took the nearest napkin, hoping that it was clean, and tried his best to wipe off the oil stains. Seeing that they wouldn’t come off, Spencer exasperatedly dropped the napkin onto the table and rushed over to his kitchen, grabbing the necessary cleaning supplies. He got his bottle of white vinegar and water, a pair of yellow rubber gloves, and an old rag underneath the kitchen sink.

By the time Spencer was done, every room in his apartment was clean to his standard. Not a book out of place, no dust lingering in the air. Spencer felt both scared and excited about having his co-workers come over to his place. He never had them over until today. He felt scared if a game, like truth or dare, made him confess his true feelings about his boyfriend.

Derek and Spencer had worked with each other for a long time. As the years went by, experiencing the highs and lows of being FBI agents together, the two of them felt their hearts yearn for each other, but neither of them acted upon it. They were scared of the possibility of rejection, tarnishing their friendship. It was not until Derek decided to break the ice and asked out Spencer. The young man was delighted to have his crush ask him out. It was the one thing that went right in his life.

Three months in and either of them hasn’t said “I love you” yet. Either of them was scared to frighten off the other. Saying “I love you” was a big commitment. They were trying to take things slow, not to rush each other, even though they had known each other for a long time.

The gang was heading over to Spencer’s for a little sleepover to relax as they hadn’t received any new cases within the past 2 weeks. It was nice to have a break from all the traveling and dealing with unsubs; however, it does get boring doing paperwork and in-office consultations for hours.

Spencer’s phone pinged multiple times and a bunch of text notifications came.

Hotch: Sorry, can’t make it. I couldn’t find a babysitter for Jack and Jessica is busy at work tonight. Maybe next time.

Tara: going out on the town with the ladies!

Penelope: sorry spencer but jj tara and i are having a ladies night :(

JJ: sorry spence! perhaps next time!

Rossi: Sorry kid. Forgot to tell you that I’m driving up to Montauk to visit a buddy of mine.

Spencer sighed and felt defeated. Everyone bailed on him at the last minute. Everyone except for Derek. That was fine with Spencer, as this could be a date night for them. Just then, the doorbell rang, indicating someone had arrived. Having a small smile on his face, Spencer scurried to the front door and opened it. It revealed one handsome Derek Morgan, who was holding a large pizza in one hand and a small bouquet of flowers in the other.

“I saw in the group chat that everyone else bailed on this.” Derek said.

“Yeah but this could be a date night for us.” Spencer smiled at his little proposition. Derek smiled, showing off his brilliant pearly whites, as he entered the apartment.

The couple spent their night-in watching movies, eating pizza, and Spencer going off tangents on his passions. Whenever Spencer starts to rant about one of his passions, Derek just stared at his little genius and smiled at how happy his boyfriend was. And that continued all night long, Derek listening to Spencer talk about 19th-century British literature, coupled with watching random movies of various genres.

Nearing 1 am, the couple laid on the couch, with Spencer in Derek’s arms. The tv was playing Julie & Julia in the background. Spencer was half asleep and noticed that Derek was sleeping already. He gently wiggled out of Derek’s arms and stood up from the couch, scratching his scalp and messing up his already messy curly hair.

“Hey. Let’s go to bed.” Spencer softly said, patting his boyfriend’s shoulder. Derek woke up, feeling groggy. Spencer led the way to his room, holding Derek’s hand. They both flopped onto the bed and Derek wrapped an arm around Spencer’s waist. They were used to sharing a room together, even a bed due to mistakes occurring at the hotels they stayed at when they were on cases. Sleep washed over them as the golden dust of the Sandman worked its magic.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

Standing across from Derek were Spencer and Cat Adams. The hitwoman had a gun pointed at one scared Spencer Reid. Internally, Derek was screaming. On the outside, he kept his cool and calm composure.

“Morgan, get out.” Spencer demanded.

“I’m not going anywhere.” Derek said, his voice shaking a little.

“Hm… I guess we’re back where we started. You and me with a gun.” Cat said without a care in the world, keeping the gun aimed at Spencer.

“Reid, it’s time.”

“No.”

“We don’t have a choice. We have to do it,” Derek said. Spencer kept shaking his head no. “We found your father.” the unsub stood there in shock for a few seconds, before rage set inside of her.

“You’re lying. I don’t like men who lie. You men are all the same.” Cat said as she gauged the trigger on her gun. She shot Spencer in the head and without hesitation, Derek started to shoot at the unsub. Derek ran over to Spencer and held his dying love in his arms. He tried to keep him alive until the paramedics came. The last words Derek said was “I love you” before his boy wonder went limp.

Derek woke up in the middle of the night in a cold sweat. He heard himself breathing heavily and felt anxious from the nightmare he just had. The frightened man groggily rubbed his eyes to get rid of the Sandman’s dust. Leaning his back against the headboard, Derek stared at the wall across from him, concentrating his eyes on one spot. He hoped that this technique would help him fall back asleep. Alas, he was shaken up from the nightmare.

The dazed man anxiously searched for his phone, wondering how much time has passed. Fumbling through the grey sheets and trying not to wake up Spencer, Derek found his phone, turning on the touchscreen, the blue screen lit up brightly. 3:20 am. Derek took a deep breath and sighed, leaning his head back onto the headboard and looked over to see his baby-faced boyfriend fast asleep. A soft smile appeared on Derek’s face, reminding him of his reality: Spencer being his angel.

Feeling restless, Derek pushed the comforter off of himself and quietly got off of the bed. He opened the bedroom door and went to the bathroom that was down the hall. His hands turned on the faucet and cupped together to gather the running water. Derek splashed cold water onto his face, making him more alert and awake. His eyes caught the sight of his face in the mirror. Smile lines decorated his face, which contrasted the dark circles forming underneath his eyes. Derek sighed and made his way towards the kitchen.

Derek has come over to Spencer’s place many times before, so much so he knows the way around like the back of his hand. With ease, his muscular hand grabbed a tall glass, with an accompanying coaster, in one of the cabinets above. He filled the glass with water from the faucet below. Loud gulps could be heard as Derek drank the water, cool and fresh like he had found an oasis. Just as Derek gently placed the glass on the coaster, his ears caught the shuffling feet of a tired Spencer.

“Derek?” Spencer tiredly said. “What are you doing up?”

“Just needed some water, that is all.” Derek said his half truth-half lie. The young man shrugged and went towards the refrigerator.

Unknowingly, Derek started to tap his fingers against the dark grey laminate countertop. Spencer caught the sound with his ears and turned to face his boyfriend.

“Derek? Are you okay?”

“Yeah? Why wouldn’t I be okay?”

“Because you’re tapping your fingers across the countertop.” Spencer pointed out. When the tired genius mentioned the action, Derek immediately stopped, his eyes glancing at Spencer.

“We’re profilers, Derek. You can’t hide anything from me.” Spencer said, feeling concerned for his best friend. The mousy-haired man felt like a hypocrite after saying that to Derek. During the many years he worked with the handsome man in front of him, Spencer developed a crush on him. At first, it was just a silly little infatuation, but as time passed, it changed to being a crush. The young man was able to hide it well. That was until Derek reciprocated his feelings. That same crush turned into Spencer dating Derek. In these past few months, Spencer wanted to tell his angel of a boyfriend that he loved him, but he was scared that Derek would run away from him, just like everyone else in his life.

“Ha– you’re right, pretty Ricky,” Derek said in defeat, hanging his head low. Spencer came up behind Derek slowly, hesitant to show some affection to his probably scared boyfriend. He mustered up his own fears and gave Derek a hug from behind, and felt his boyfriend relaxing in his arms. The couple stood in silence for some time, savoring the unspoken quietness between them.

“Remember when you had to go in as bait for Cat Adams?” Derek asked, breaking the silence.

“Oh– yeah. Why are you asking?” Spencer responded, not getting the hint where the conversation was going.

“Two weeks since that case, I had these nightmares. I thought I could get through with it, but I can’t. My nightmare was about that. I dreamt that you were shot by Cat.” Derek explained.

“Derek…” Spencer felt shocked while his heart was breaking. He felt like he had to do something. But all he could do was sit and listen to his boyfriend get everything off his chest.

"I wish this is a nightmare that I could just wake up from... but it feels all real... and I hate every second of it. I felt like I was going to lose you when it actually happened,” Derek’s voice cracked a bit as tears pricked his deep brown eyes. “And I don’t want this to repeat. I wouldn’t forgive myself.”

“I won’t let it happen again,” Spencer quietly said, caresses Derek’s cheek. “We will make sure she stays in prison, alright?” Derek brought Spencer in for a long embrace. The mousy-haired man wrapped his arms around his athletic boyfriend’s waist as he placed his head in the crook of Derek’s neck. The soft warmth coming off of Derek comforted Spencer, clashing with her cold pale skin.

“I just uh…” Derek said tiredly.

“Yeah.” Spencer replied, smiling softly. He knew in his heart that Derek said “I love you” to him.

“You know?”

“I know.”

taglist: @homosexualyearning / @ssajelle / @iconicc / @sunlightgalaxy / @pumpkin-stars / @hotchgans / @pen3mily / @hotchsbabygirl / @gravelyhumerus / @morcias / @notsosmexy / @cherrychris​ / @hqtchner / @girlbossjareau / @pagetsimp / @a-writers-ramblings / @morceid

[lucifer-nanezgani]

Driving with Mankai (A3! crack headcanon)

So a while back my family and I went on a road trip and while sitting in the passenger seat and listening to all the A3 character songs (EN only) I started daydreaming about what it would be like if the Mankai boys gave you a lift, assuming they could all drive. This is the result.

Spring Troupe

Sakuya: Doing his best. Scraped by with his tests and drives at grandma speeds, but you can’t get mad at him. Has a packet of half-melted party mix lollies in the glove box that he shares with you.

Masumi: Drives too fast with everyone else and too slow with Izumi. If you try and change his music he will not give you a lift again. Does not speak to you the entire time.

Tsuzuru: Drives a beat-up second hand car he got for cheap and somehow always gets stuck in traffic, but you two always have a good convo while waiting for the lights.

Itaru: A relatively normal ride, but if there’s an event on for one of his games, you will be ranking for him while he tries to give you instructions and drive at the same time.

Citron: Nobody knows how he got his license. Will probably regale you with stories about how back home he drove an elephant or something. Wants to spray-paint the sides of his car to say “The Citron-mobile.”

Chikage: he drives a bright green Volkswagen Beetle. Probably ran a red light once. He drives safely with you in the car but you can’t help but feel nervous. Very good at intimidating cops to get out of a ticket.

Summer Troupe

Tenma: He is not the one driving. You’re joining him in the backseat of his family car while Igawa drives and you sip coffee and talk about his times on set.

Yuki: Drives a pink Mini Cooper. Silent the entire ride. If you change his music, he’s kicking you out there and then. Have fun walking.

Muku: Needs lots of positive reassurance while driving. Constantly asking you if the temperature’s alright or if you want to change music. You take him out for ice cream afterwards.

Misumi: Got Kaz to help him cover his car in triangle stickers. Stops at every triangle sign he sees. Very slow trip but still fun.

Kazunari: Surprisingly conservative with his use of stickers and decals. Plays his mixtapes/playlists constantly and takes you to McDonald’s. Accidentally gets a ticket bc he was too busy vibing to notice you’d gone over the speed limit.

Kumon: Tried to deck his car out like a race car with Kaz’s help. Again, nervous driver but he’s doing his best. Has fuzzy dice that look like baseballs. Listens to baseball on the radio and if you try to change it he gets very dejected. Do not change the radio.

Autumn Troupe

Banri: Has a super tricked-out flashy new car with like a touchscreen and everything. Practically cruises along and makes small talk with you while driving. You kind of feel like a celebrity. If only he played something other than shitty club music through the speakers.

Juza: You’re riding on the back of his bike. He’s awkward bc you have to hold onto his waist and he’s touch-starved as fuck so it’s a quiet ride. You pass a sweets store and ask him to stop there to treat him to milkshakes and apologise for the weird ride.

Taichi: Saved up for years to get a cool car (it is cool, but not as over the top as Banri’s). Has a hat monster bobble head on the dashboard and sings along super loud to his favourite songs while driving. You join in- it’s carpool karaoke central there. Gets pulled up for running a red light by accident.

Omi: Also riding on the back of his bike. He’s less awkward than Juza but keeps asking if you’re ok back there. Harasses you about wearing a helmet properly and stops halfway and pulls some scones out that he baked earlier for you to share.

Sakyo: Will begrudgingly give you a lift but only when you really need it. Drives a plain white sedan. Lectures you about whatever reason you needed the lift for the whole while. Secretly hopes you need another one in the future.

Azami: His dad and Sakyo insisted on helping him pick out his car, so he got stuck with a plain black sedan. Blasts his rap music super loud from the speakers and flips off and honks anyone who cuts him off, but generally an unremarkable driver. Will punch you while driving if you change his music.

Winter Troupe

Tsumugi: Has had the same car since university. Got an Elvis CD his grandma lent him stuck in the CD slot and he can’t get it out. Makes lots of small talk to cover up the constant Elvis.

Tasuku: Got the first car he could find, so it isn’t super flashy. Silent the entire car ride since he doesn’t know how to ask you what music you want to listen to. Listens to a soccer match on the radio instead.

Hisoka: Tasuku and Tetsuro installed a marshmallow dispenser in his car. Can stay awake for 10-15 minute trips if you really need him to drive you, but will fall asleep at the wheel after that. Who let him drive.

Homare: His car has heated seats and he always uses the same air freshener brand to keep it smelling nice and the same. Will talk at you and make poems up the entire ride, but buys you a coffee or tea afterwards. Solely listens to the classical station.

Azuma: Probably picked you up late at night after you’d been drinking or partying. Drives a nondescript car and a master of the smooth turn. You end up spilling your guts to him in the passenger seat and he offers to cuddle with you when you get home.

Guy: ???? Fucker probably teleports.

[cheri-translates]

Gavin’s Official Art Book (Eng Translation)

Credits to @minjee98​ for sending me photos of Gavin’s official art book and requesting this translation!

This post contains details on Gavin’s outfits, items, backgrounds, and interviews with his CN voice actor, the Copywriting Team, Art Team, and Production team.

More: Kiro l Lucien l Black Swan l STF l NPCs l Loveland City

💙 GAVIN’S OUTFITS 💙

[ Leather Jacket ]

Like a gust of wind blowing from a time of youth, coursing through very long years, Gavin appeared before you. An unruly and intractable smile, a relaxed tone, and the corner of his shirt riding up with the wind at the front seat of the motorcycle...

Back then, you wouldn’t have thought that he would be holding onto your hand like this, accompanying you through countless sceneries.

[Note] Something cute is that the word “sceneries” in Chinese is 风景 (“feng jing”), which directly translates to “wind view”

[ Uniform - Jacket Version ]

If it weren’t for Gavin bringing you to the Special Task Force and telling you about the Black Swan organisation, you would have continued living in ignorance.

Shouldn’t you be glad that he was willing to tell you everything? It’s only because of this that you knew you had been protected all along, and could finally stand by his side. 

[ Gavin’s Shirt  ]

If a rainbow is a delight after a rainfall, and two rainbows are a delight of a coincidental destiny, the three rainbows that you and Gavin saw must definitely be a unique miracle.

As long as you’re with him, the two of you can definitely create even more miracles belonging only to the both of you.

[ Shirt and Pants ]

The summer wind, his mildly bashful smile, the white shirt with its slightly rolled up sleeves, and the side profile with the blue coloured roof reflected in his pupils.

There’s no need to specially reminisce that summer day spent coursing through the river of love with Gavin. It’s definitely shimmering brightly in your memories all along, isn’t it?

[ Swimming Attire]

Riding the waves on a surfboard, playing the bass underneath the lights, using a light cough to cover his shyness... These are the most beautiful memories of that year’s summer.

Back then, when you had looked into Gavin’s eyes, did you suddenly feel that your entire life would pass like this?

[ Camo Jacket ] 

On the day of releasing Pearly, the sunlight was warm and bright. A slight wind was blowing up strands of stray hair. Gavin held onto you, the two of you embracing the sunlight and wind.

Do you still remember? Him promising you the rest of his life back then, the bright amber of his eyes, and the answer you had given.

You said that you’d never let go of his hand.

[ Silver Grey Suit ]

You never would have thought the so-called “Meeting the Parents” would be such a nerve-racking thing.

It’s a good thing Gavin donned a well-fitting suit and appeared in time, protecting you from all sorts of tricky questions posed by your relatives. Or else you’d have been disorientated from the questions early on.

[ Swordsman Outfit ]

Which incident left the deepest impression on you during that year’s Qixi Festival? Was it Gavin’s swordsman appearance, his tender gaze under the moonlight, or was it... the sense of suffocation when you found out that his wire was broken?

If prayers truly worked, you would have been willing to make a prayer to the gods and spirits: Please don’t let him be put in danger again.

[ Wedding Attire ]

Although the wedding was just a filming activity, have you ever secretly anticipated it?

That path of fresh flowers the two of you walked along together, those bright and resplendent moments, and that person who had held onto you as you walked forward...

Being with him like this has commenced the true start of your lives. 

[ Black Jacket ]

The first time you spent Valentine’s Day with Gavin, the first time you received an exorbitant gift from him, the first time the two of you drank from the same beverage...

On that day, you experienced so many memorable firsts. And to him, these memories are definitely just as precious.

[ Army Attire ]

The pitch-black uniform and gloves, medals flashing with a cold light, and ice-cold handcuffs... You’ve probably never seen such a Gavin.

But even if he doesn’t recognise you at all, he will continue stopping you from getting involved in danger, and will keep your lost bracelet properly.

No matter what, he has always been a tender person.

[ School Attire ]

He’s already hurt but still has a look of happiness and wants to play basketball - are all boys like that?

Can’t you easily imagine how a young Gavin was definitely the type to lead a bunch of small boys at the front with the broadest smile on his face as they ran towards the basketball court!

-

💙 GAVIN’S ITEMS 💙

Communication device - I carry it on me. It’s indispensable.

Gloves - An accompaniment when on missions. When I’m with you, I'll take them off.

Photograph together - Every moment related to us and worthy of remembering have been properly stored.

Photoshoot pictures - Because it has to do with you, I [ I CAN’T READ HIS HANDWRITING ]

Universe cake - Only you can fulfil my wish.

Astral stone - That was the last time [ I CAN’T READ HIS HANDWRITING ]

Cute hair tie - I’ll only be like this in front of you.

Touchscreen phone -  Don’t bother about the rumours from school. Whatever you want to know, I’ll tell them all to you.

Shampoo - Next time, I’ll help wash your hair again.

Police badge - Memories of you in high school surface in his mind... it was truly a counter of a rebellious youth.

Bullets

Soft pillow

Ginkgo leaves

Letter

Phone keychain

Gavin’s house key

Lavender eye mask

Ginger tea

-

💙 BACKGROUNDS 💙

[ Gavin’s Room ]

Ever since the two of you reunited, life has gradually entered this minimalist-styled room. Without realising it, photographs of the two of you have appeared on the neat and tidy work desk. And the gloves you gave to him have been placed in the most eye-catching spot in the closet.

[ Gavin’s Kitchen ]

The kitchen, which didn’t have a full collection of ingredients, was gradually imbued with the smell of soot. The two of you have made several failed dishes together, but each time, he’ll smile and finish everything. The next time, will the both of you be able to overcome the curse of “dark cuisine” together?

[ Special Task Force Office ]

Here, you found out about the secrets of the Special Task Force, and also found out that the righteousness he has been steadfast in is hard-won. After that, he may never step into this place again. But you definitely trust in the conviction of his words.

[ Castle Steps ]

When he held onto you, walking up that serene spiral staircase, your heart was beating even faster than usual, wasn’t it? Did it stem purely from an anticipation of an unknown scenery, or was it from the unending stream of warmth from his palm?

-

💙 INTERVIEWS 💙

[ Interview with Ah Jie, the voice actor for Gavin ]

“I hope that while he remains steadfast to his convictions, he can live each day happily and optimistically.”

Q1: Teacher Ah Jie, having interacted with Gavin for such a long time, do you have any new insights regarding him?

Ah Jie: Mm, I do, a little. The most obvious thing would be how he has recently returned to his original self. Actually, things related to his mother, and the attitude his father adopts when interacting with him, have to a large extent changed his personality and the way he handles things. I still hope that while he remains steadfast to his convictions, he can live each day happily and optimistically. Love can make one more cheerful and carefree, and it’s pretty good.

-

Q2: Are there any characteristics of Gavin you appreciate a lot?

Ah Jie: I find one thing good about Gavin - the way he strongly perseveres in what he has decided upon. No matter whether it’s in terms of righteousness, his convictions, or feelings - once he decides on it, he’ll move forward without hesitation.

-

Q3: What do you think of Gavin’s Evol?

Ah Jie: I initially wanted to possess it, but... it’s not very useful considering Beijing’s weather. If his Evol was sufficiently powerful, could it blow away the smog? I’ll find a chance to ask him some other day.

-

Q4: Is there anything you’ve always wanted to tell Gavin, but haven’t?

Ah Jie: Even though he isn’t the type who knows how to hold a conversation with girls, he has changed for the better recently, and it’s a very large improvement. However, there’s no need to specially change. I think girls like how he is right now.

-

Q5: Has Teacher Ah Jie recently chanced upon a restaurant which you want to bring Gavin to?

Ah Jie: I recently discovered a very delicious and very spicy place. Next time, I’ll arrange to have supper with him there, haha.

-

[ Interview with the Copywriting Team ]

“He should be free and unfettered.”

Q1: The storyline of the game has several science fiction elements. What made you consider including science fiction elements in a game targeted at females?

Actually, we felt that romance is often underestimated. Love isn’t simply effete language without substance, or honeyed words. Love can give us courage, and bring us to a whole new world, opening new journeys, finding your unlimited self. A romance story is naturally appropriate to be melded with any other motifs. In love, we can explore various issues: personal growth, contradictions in society, the truth of civilisation, the rise and fall of history...  The story we wish to convey to the players is one of “the cruel competition between love and power”. This isn’t just a complex story with science fiction elements. Actually, it’s also very related to the lives of every person.

-

Q2: As an Evol agent, does Gavin work 365 without rest?

No, but he has to be prepared to accept sudden missions.

-

Q3: Why couldn’t Gavin keep Greenie alive?

He watered it too much.

-

Q4: If he uses his Evol, what’s the highest point Gavin can reach through flight?

As long as he wants to, he can fly as high as he wants.

-

Q5: Does Gavin really like eating noodles?

It’s not to the extent of "really liking” it. it’s just that he finds it convenient.

-

Q6: When deciding on Gavin’s Evol, were there any special considerations?

We felt that he should be free and unfettered, just like... a gust of free and easy wind.

-

Q7: In the process of interacting, does Gavin have any difficult-to-spot “moe points”?

His slightly clumsy way of expressing his care and consideration. For instance, asking “Were you happy to ride it once more” after taking the Ferris wheel.

-

Q8: In the 2018 Qixi Festival event, Gavin’s ancient garb left a deep impression on people. Why did you design Gavin this way?

A swordsman who comes and goes without a trace. A swordsman who can rush to the skies even after falling off a cliff.

-

Q9: Is Gavin a dog or a cat person?

Dog.

-

Q10: What do you think is Gavin’s most classic line? How did you think of it?

“As long as you’re in the wind, I can sense you.”

It just came out very naturally in the plot - that Gavin would say something like that.

-

Q11: In relation to Gavin, are there any scenes that you’ve always wanted to write but haven’t fulfilled yet?

More scenes imbued with the feeling of a youthful romance. For instance, kissing at the rooftop staircase. I hope it can be arranged soon.

-

[ Interview with the Art Team ]

“Your photograph must be placed even on the workbench of the secret base!”

Q1: In relation to the various scenes in Loveland City, are there are any real life references?

The answer to this question has already been discovered by some meticulous players. We have indeed made references to a few real sceneries, such as the The Bund.

We want to give players the sense that the romance is happening right next to them, which is why we’ve brought our city’s scenery into the game, so everyone can feel a sense of familiarity and realism.

-

Q2: Art Sisters, what you think of the “Papergames Art Style” as coined by players? What is the biggest difference between the art style in Mr Love Queen’s Choice and other games by Papergames?

Actually, we don’t really understand the meaning of “Papergames Art Style”, and we don’t know what it means specifically. It probably refers to how the tone and atmosphere are more clear and romantic? Even our own department finds that the art styles from different games are very different. In making a comparison, Mr Love Queen’s Choice is much “harder” (laughs). After all, our main characters are four adult men. Right now, the style is basically “hard but not coarse” - there are parts which require meticulousness and delicateness, yet can’t be too soft.

-

Q3: Have you ever considered changing Gavin’s hairstyle, for instance giving him a crew cut?

Based on his personality, he might have thought about it. After all, a crew cut is very convenient. But come to think of it, does everyone really want to see him with a crew cut?

-

Q4: Where does Gavin typically buy his clothes? Online or in the shopping mall?

When he thinks it’s about time to buy clothes, he’ll find time to go to the mall. Occasionally, he buys them online.

-

Q5: How many different scars does Gavin have on his body?

There are some especially obvious scars on his collarbone and back. There are many other non-obvious ones in other places.

-

Q6: Why is there such a big difference between Gavin’s initial design and the final design? Initially, why did you give him that somewhat “smart” hairstyle?

Actually, we tried out many different types of hairstyles in the beginning. Then, we selected the one which was most suitable, and then refined it. The “smart” hairstyle was just one of many.

-

Q7: How many different outfits does Gavin have currently?

It’s difficult to say. After all, he does keep buying new clothes. A guy’s closet is the same as a woman’s - forever missing one shirt, a pair of pants, a pair of shoes, a watch...

-

Q8: Flowers appear frequently in the game. Could I ask the Art Team which flower best suits Gavin?

White lilac.

-

Q9: When it comes to Gavin’s home decor, what do the Art Sisters find the most special?

What’s special lies in “the warmth only you know about”.

Although the monochrome colours appear cold and cool, the details reveal the dribs and drabs of your lives: Outside the windows, you can see ginkgo trees which a harbour special meaning to the two of you. Atop the shelf in front of the window sits the strong “Greenie No. N+1″. Your photograph must be placed even on the workbench of the secret base!

-

Q10: What’s most difficult to grasp about Gavin?

The ahoge on Gavin’s head should point in the opposite direction of the wind.

-

[ Interview with the Production Team ]

“He gives people a sense of security, like the ‘Ah Sir’ in Hong Kong films!”

Q1: Why did you produce a game like “Love and Producer”?

Producers: Since 2015, our company has already started producing this game. As a mobile game with romance at its core, it’s something not many companies have tried before. The company had a lot of discussions on the possibility of it. In the end, we decided to do it, and the reason for making constant iterations, updates, and persevering after three years is especially simple. No matter what age you are, no matter whether you’ve dated before, no matter whether you're married and have your own family, we believe that in every woman’s heart, there remains an anticipation for romance and heart-stirring experiences. Which is why we believe “Love and Producer” has a reason for its existence. This belief has always guided our production and operation process, and we hope we can continuously bring even more beautiful romance experiences to everyone in the future.

-

Q2: Where did the name of the game “Love and Producer” come from?

Producers: I don’t know if anyone remembers that in the very beginning, our tagline on the official website has always been “Love and dreams need to meet their match.” Why is this game called “Love and Producer”? That’s because the link between you and him not only encompasses the narrow scope of love, but also permeates into to your life journey together.

-

Q3: Are there any deeply hidden “Easter eggs”? Could you disclose them to us?

Producers: They aren’t really that hidden, but there are indeed some “Easter eggs” which should have already been discovered by some players. For instance, you can see a certain poster during City Strolls. In “Go See Him”, the coupling of certain outfits and sceneries could bring out a few hidden lines. We welcome everyone to give it a try.

-

Q4: If you were to catch criminals together with Gavin, how could you help him?

Producers: After much thought, we might only be bait...

-

Q5: What do the people in the Production team call Gavin?

Producers: Gavin, Old Gav, Lil Gav, Bro Gav.

-

Q6: How do the males in the production team view Gavin?

Producers: An envoy of righteousness, he gives people a sense of security, like the ‘Ah Sir’ in Hong Kong films!”. But sometimes, he’s like Andy Chan.

-

Q7: If you had Gavin’s Evol, what would you use it for?

Producers: Of course, I'll go for a flight!

-

Q8: If there comes a day when you can be as fearless as Gavin, what would you want to do most?

Producers: Serve... serve the motherland?

-

Q9: Lastly, do you have anything to say to the players?

Producers: This interaction between the Production Team and the players is already sufficient enough to cherish. The world we created has only become perfect because of your participation. Our days alongside Loveland City have already become an important stamp in our lives. This world is still constantly becoming richer and broader. Kindly look forward to it!

[delimeful]

not always what they seem

finished g/t space au commission for @legendsgates ! it was super fun to work on, i hope everyone enjoys!

warnings: dehumanization, treating people like animals, abduction, miscommunication, remus being remus, deceit, misguided but good intentioned light sides

-

“Hey, kid, wake up.” 

Virgil groaned, shifting to his side. It was still dark, why was someone bothering him? 

“There you go. It’s a great day outside, open your eyes already.” 

Wait. He lived alone. Who was talking to him?

Visions of chatty burglars or insane door to door salesmen breaking and entering flashed before his eyes, and he jerked upright with a gasp, eyes flying open. 

Darkness. He couldn’t see a thing. “What?” 

Virgil nearly poked himself in the eye in his haste to check his face for a blindfold. He should be able to see plenty; there was an annoying streetlamp just under his apartment window. Had he spontaneously gone blind? Had he been kidnapped? Was he in a trunk, slowly suffocating to death? 

“Hey, calm down. Everything’s going to be fine, don’t pass out on us now.” 

A burst of unhinged, echoing laughter nearly cut off the end of the sentence, and chills ran down Virgil’s spine. “Oh god. Look, I take terrible care of my body, you don’t want my organs, I promise.”

There was an aggrieved sigh nearby. Virgil hesitantly reached his hands out to feel the space around him. It didn’t feel like a car trunk. He was sitting up just fine. 

“I don’t think we’re being trafficked, but if we were, you’d be pleading your case to the wrong guy. I’m in the same situation as you.” A dull knocking accompanied the words. “Unfortunately.”

Virgil carefully turned his body to face the direction of the voice, squinting in case he could make out any sign of an attack. “...Right, sure. Care to fill me in on what-- what exactly that situation is?” 

The stranger only seemed sardonically amused at the bite in his voice. “We’re trapped in a room. There’s glass walls dividing the room into sections. There’s a little bit of light coming in through the roof, your eyes will adjust soon. That’s all I’ve got. Remember anything from before you woke up?” 

 Virgil shoved down the rising panic, rising to a tentative crouch with his arms outstretched for balance. He’d been… What had he been doing? “I… I don’t know.”  

Another sigh. “Yes, I assumed so.” The outline of a silhouette seemed to be coming into focus. Unless Virgil was just imagining things. “Thank you so much for being helpful.”   

He bristled at the tone, but before he could respond, another giggling laugh reverberated around them. 

“Don’t fret so much, figments,” a new, somewhat nasally voice said cheerily. “I’m sure your terrible and inevitably gory deaths will only hurt for as long as the dream lasts.” 

Virgil took a long, shaky inhale. “What the fuck.” 

“‘The fuck’ is Remus, the third occupant in our room. As far as I can tell, he believes this is all a hallucination brought on by sleep paralysis. Best to just ignore him,” the first stranger advised dryly. 

“I’m still ignoring you back,” ‘Remus’ returned in a singsong. Virgil almost couldn’t blame him. He’d really rather wake up and realize this was all a dream, too. 

He wasn’t going to bet on it, though. He stumbled forwards, feeling the walls for a door, a switch, anything. 

“Do you think I’m an idiot?” the unnamed stranger scorned. “I’ve already checked everything that could be checked. Nothing’s going to happen--” 

His voice was cut off by three quick, consecutive beeps from somewhere above their heads. Virgil turned his head this way and that, searching for an intercom or mechanical device nearby. “What’s that?” 

Neither stranger answered, and Virgil realized that this was something new just as one side of the room began to slide upwards like a garage door. He raised a hand as bright light poured into the room, backing up as far as he could. In the corner of his vision, another person was doing much the same.

Something large moved outside the room, its shadow falling on them and making it a little less difficult to see. 

Unfortunately, what he was seeing was impossibly horrifying enough to be real.

A huge figure, like a giant from a children’s fairytale, was visible from the torso up. It was wearing something close to a full body hazmat suit, its inhuman face visible behind a pane of red-tinted glass. Piercing red eyes were placed just slightly too far apart, and a shiny black shell covered the bottom of its face like a curved medical mask.

It leaned closer, and Virgil recoiled harshly enough to slam his back into the corner of the room. The eyes settled on him for a moment, before flicking over to the other occupants. Adrenaline surged through him, but there was nowhere to channel it. He couldn’t flee, and there was no way he could fight. He was helpless.

In the section next to Virgil, a short man dressed in formal wear stood carefully still. He was meeting eyes with the monster, his expression neutral and still. Where Virgil had felt like a deer in the headlights, this man acted more like a snake assessing prey. The only sign that he was unsettled was the white knuckled fists at his sides.

The monster made an unsettling sound, like a hum interspersed with clicks, and then turned its attention to the only human still laying on the ground, presumably Remus. A few rigid plates along its forehead twitched downward, and it chittered at Remus. 

Virgil caught what looked like mandibles protruding from under its face plate, and felt lightheaded. 

“Remus, I suggest you look alive,” the snakelike man muttered, attention still locked on the huge creature. Remus didn’t respond, though whether it was because of the monster or because he was still ignoring them was anyone’s guess.

A moment later, the monster reached up with a limb, the suit glove doing nothing to conceal the creature’s spindly, clawed fingers, arranged like an osprey’s talons. It tapped the glass between them, and Virgil was abruptly reminded of a child at an aquarium. The ‘room’ they were captive in was a mere box to this being. An enclosure.

Remus finally sat up, stretching lanky arms as though it was a normal morning. He cocked his head at the monster, squinting. “What are you looking at, you big bitch?” 

Virgil inhaled sharply through his teeth, but the monster didn’t react beyond its forehead plates shifting back up, and before long, it was looking down at a strange grey cube, flicking talons along its surface like it was a touchscreen. 

In his section, Remus had unfolded to his ridiculous full height, and was ambling up to the wall separating them. He smiled, something about it vaguely unhinged. “Hmm, hallucinations aren’t supposed to be this expansive! It’s almost like we’re actually here, captured by giant monsters that are probably going to stick us in a blender for a morning smoothie!” 

The snakelike man rubbed his temples, still holding onto his composure. He didn’t dignify the gory statement with a response, but Virgil was more than happy to. 

“Hey, it was Remus, right?” Virgil asked, and he saw the man nodding enthusiastically in the corner of his vision. “Please shut the hell up.” 

“Never been very good at that!” 

—-

Roman glanced up from the data sheet, watching as the new specimens wandered about and made little noises at each other. He couldn’t help but hum a bit at the sight; the little animals were so charming. 

“Roman!” a familiar voice trilled, and he turned to the lab’s entrance, clicking in greeting at the sight of his partners. Though he’d been uncertain about working with beings from other quadrants at first, they’d managed to overcome most of their original hurdles and now worked smoothly together. There was nobody he’d rather have as his research team, even with the disapproving twitch in Logan’s ears. 

“Dear friends,” he returned, gesturing widely and making all the specimens freeze up again. “I swear I haven’t opened a single sect, only gazed upon our newest finds. You’re going to love them Patton, they have the strangest little noises.” 

The Nilh wasted no time in scampering forwards, just barely prevented from bumping the enclosure by Logan’s tail tugging him back slightly. “Oh, they’ve already started communicating with each other? What about body language, did you have the vidfeed on?”

“Yes, and of course,” Roman gestured with a pointed flourish, “I have also followed procedures and had the cam on since I entered the lab, treasured nerds.”

Logan’s hand flicked in an exasperated gesture, but his ears were no longer angled down, so Roman counted it as a win. Patton tugged the Glanrim closer by the tail, using his multitude of hands to push him into his spot. “Look, Lo! I think this one is threat displaying at me! They’re all acting so differently, it’s going to be so exciting to figure out what sort of sounds they use!” 

Despite his professional demeanor, Logan’s eyes all widened with excitement as he bent slightly to inspect their samples. “There’s quite a variety in patterns and sizes as well,” he observed, voice low and resonant. The little creatures all seemed to stiffen at it. “I would almost believe them different species entirely if not for the similar body structure.” 

“They’ve even got little primitive outfits, see?” Roman pointed towards the calm one in the middle, eyeing the seams. “There must be a bonding purpose for it, like how some mammalian animals will use pigment-dyes for enhancing appearance to attract mates. The real question is, how did they all end up looking so different? Which one is closest to the traits that make one desirable?” 

“I don’t see any reason we can’t find out!” Patton responded brightly. “We’ve got three samples, one for each of us, so what say we each get started on recording all the information we can!”

“We only have three specimens, so it’s important that we don’t push too far with any of them. This is only preliminary work,” Logan cautioned. “That said, I agree. The sooner we begin, the better.” 

“I’ll take the yellow one!” Roman immediately chimed in, his wings vibrating slightly inside his suit. 

—

“There’s three of us, and three of them, so of course they’re going to eat us.” Remus remained blithely oblivious to Virgil’s glower. “It’s lucky there’s not one more, otherwise we’d have to rock-paper-scissors on who gets torn in half.” 

Of course, this was the moment that the monsters stopped their odd, chitter-click-buzz noises to turn back to the container, and the first monster, the red one, began to fiddle with the side of the glass. Virgil started to breathe heavily as there was mechanical clicking around them, and then the ground under their feet shifted slightly. 

Without another second of suspense, Red reached under the box and slid the middle section out like a book from a shelf. The man in formalwear went with it, stumbling slightly and pressing against the glass for balance. 

“Oh hey, you got the freaky insect one,” Remus said, waving cheerily. “Hope your death is really cool and gory! Try not to make it cooler or gorier than mine though!” 

“Very helpful,” the man hissed through gritted teeth, his eyes slightly panicked. Virgil stumbled forwards to the front of his section as though he could reach the other human through the glass, terror chilling him. It was a pointless gesture, but as he was carried out of sight, the man offered him a nod anyways. 

Remus seemed to be unfortunately correct about them being split up, since next the one with the six arms and rocky skin pried the tall man’s section out and left with it as well. That left Virgil with the last one, a monster whose face was covered in neat fur and long whiskers. It looked at him with way too many eerie slitted pupils, and Virgil couldn’t help but compare it to a predatory big cat. Maybe several predatory big cats.

Its gaze was nothing compared to its size, of course, and Virgil couldn’t help but drop to a crouch, curling in on himself as gloved hands curled around the glass box he was stuck in and lifted it with ease.  

The floor of the box was transparent, and he stared at the dizzying drop to the floor the whole transferring process. When there was finally solid ground beneath him again, he looked up and found that his box had been placed on a sterile, shining counter. 

Before he could get much of a read on his surroundings, a shadow darkened the floor around him, and he barely got to flinch before cool fingers were descending on him, lifting him from the box. 

The hold was firm and clinical; his arms pinned to his sides, and a finger under his chin to prevent biting. The pressure on his throat was just slightly too much, and Virgil let out a choked cough, struggling to breathe through his panic. 

Thankfully, it only lasted for a moment. In the next, he was released, and his hands and knees met a solid surface. He scrambled to his feet, glancing around. 

The bad news was that he was out of the relative safety of the glass box. The worse news was that he appeared to be in a warped version of a hedge maze, walls and corners twisting around him. The worst news was that the monster was still present, and now it was manipulating some kind of square device. 

A heartbeat later, the walls around him started to buzz ominously, making the hair on the back of his neck rise up as he pictured every Saw movie he’d ever seen. 

“Fuuuuck this,” he muttered, shifting to his feet and starting down the nearest path. He alternated between making sure he didn’t get too close to the walls and making sure the monster hadn’t moved or otherwise acted suspiciously. The creature was watching him unerringly every time he looked up, and having all those eyes on him didn’t help his increasing unease at all.

As he turned a corner, he was faced with something new, and automatically ducked away in case it was going to start shooting at him. The small orb continued to sit in the middle of the path innocently, at just the right height to take out someone’s achilles heel. 

Virgil shuddered and turned around, backtracking to the last fork in the path. He wasn’t messing with monster traps, no fucking way. 

Above him, the monster seemed to sigh slightly.

—-

“... just too timid,” Logan was saying when Patton re-entered the main area of the lab. “The specimen didn’t engage in a single puzzle during our session, not even one.” 

“What a puzzling situation!” Patton chimed in, carefully slotting his own specimen unit back into the container. Inside, the little creature continued to make a bizarre assortment of calls, not even in Patton’s direction. 

Logan exhaled shortly. “Am I to assume that your insistence on wordplay means that you had greater successes than us?”

“Well, you could go with that, but you know what they say about assuming!” he replied, tucking a pair of arms behind his back as he wandered over to the others. “The little guy seemed pretty aggressive, so I tried to see if there were any specific threat calls I could make out, but… it almost never repeated. Either they have very complex body language that I’m missing or my little friend is a few sticks short of a tree!”

The other two looked disheartened, and the linguist glanced over at Roman. “You two didn’t have any luck, either?” 

“No. My specimen barely participated in the trials I set up, and so I haven’t discerned what level of intelligence we are working with yet,” Logan gritted out, ears flat.

Patton tilted his head slightly. “Not even the treat ball? Most sentient life forms have no trouble with that one.” 

“No, no interaction at all. It may be worth looking for more compelling bait…” 

Roman cut in, antennae flicking in displeasure. “Anyways, mine was uncooperative too! I was trying to get a few samples of their outer shells to see what the fabric is constructed of, but it was so resistant after just one layer that I started getting worried that maybe removing any more would actually harm it.” 

“Good. Better not to risk damaging them.” Logan turned to the units, nose twitching as he thought. “There are other non-invasive tests we can try, but results might shift if we try different samples for different tests.” 

Roman click-buzzed in complaint. “That could take forever, though! We’re supposed to be coming up with significant research, not trading specimens around!” 

“Maybe, instead, we could observe all of them at the same time,” Patton suggested, getting both of his teammates’ attention. “After all, isn’t controlled engagement with multiple specimens one of the tests?”

Roman and Logan exchanged a look, before the latter inclined his chin, slowly. “It’s worth an attempt, at least. Just watch carefully for any signs of aggression. They can’t harm us, but they could certainly harm each other.”

---

By the time the monsters finally decided to put them all in a penned-in space with each other, Virgil was almost too exhausted to be worried. Almost.

He shuffled away from where the three bizarre creatures were looming over them, but carefully remained out of grabbing distance from the other two humans. He wasn’t stupid; he barely knew these people.

“Aliens,” Remus greeted them, holding his hands up in an exaggerated pose. “I’ve totally cracked it.” 

“You’ve totally cracked,” Virgil shot back, but most of his attention was on the well-dressed man. Or, formerly well-dressed, since now he appeared to have had all top layers except his undershirt removed. “Hey, what happened?” 

“Oh, is it not obvious?” the man hissed, arms crossed tightly. “I’ve been robbed. Clearly, this must all have been an elaborate mugging for my blazer and button up.”

Remus cackled. “Yeah right! That suit is cheap as hell!”

The man rolled his eyes, and Virgil couldn’t help but notice the way he was shaking. It didn’t seem like a fear shake, not with this man’s demeanor. “Okay, but are you okay? You seem, uh, cold.” 

“Of course I’m not cold. Why ever would a half-dressed, anemic man in a glass box be cold?” the man snapped. One of the aliens moved slightly, and their gazes all flickered up for a moment. 

Once it became clear no grabbing was happening, Virgil sighed lowly, pulling at his zipper and shifting the sleeves of his hoodie off. “You’re kind of a bitch, huh?” 

The man snapped his head around, opening his mouth to deliver a scathing retort, but Virgil interrupted him by tossing the hoodie at his face. “Excuse m-- oof!”

“Don’t spill anything on it,” Virgil muttered, ignoring the man’s perplexed stare. “You can pay me back with your name.” 

“... It’s Dee.”

---

“Did you see that?” Patton bounced on his toes, tugging at Roman’s talons. “It gave away it’s covering!” 

“Astonishing,” Roman replied, not tearing his eyes away. “Is it a social hierarchy thing? Did you see any familiar dominance displays?” 

“I… didn’t, actually,” Patton replied, face scrunching in perplexion. “Maybe this one is less attached?” 

“No.” They both turned to Logan, whose eyes had gone wide. “It was an act of assistance. The yellow specimen was shaking, likely from temperature exposure due to losing some of it’s covering. It was… kindness.” 

“Woah, what?” Roman clicked, antennae perking up. “But that would mean--” 

“Look!” 

At Patton’s cry, they all watched as the other specimen seemed to attack, almost jumping forwards to intervene. At the last moment, Patton’s arms pulled them back. “No, wait!” 

Though the small, gangly creature had flopped onto the shorter one, the action seemed to elicit no pained cry or battle screech, only mild grumbles as the two readjusted in their impromptu pile. The one that had given away its covering made a face before carefully folding into a sitting position as well, a seat that kept it between the aliens and the other specimens. 

“These specimens were all pulled from different locations,” Logan half-stated, half-asked. Roman nodded, eyes wide. “They can’t be nestmates. What in the galaxy is this?”

“They’re sapient,” Patton blurted, a hand pressed to his mouth. “The sounds, they’re too complex because they’re not calls, they’re words. Language.”

“Language? But, the planet was said to only contain primitive lifeforms!” Roman protested, wings flaring up in agitation. “You’re telling me… Oh man.” 

“The heat sharing, the communication, even the extreme caution shown in unfamiliar circumstances,” Logan spoke slowly, as though warming up to the idea. “It… does seem to be a potential explanation.”

They all looked back to the tiny bipeds, now seeing their every action in a new light. 

“Well, there’s only one way to be sure,” Patton said, lifting up a hand and waving it slowly in a generic friendly gesture. “We’ll just have to figure it out for ourselves, using our own judgement.” 

After a long moment, one of the specimens-- no, aliens-- waved back. 

[viltrumitesuperboy]

Sorcerer (Peter Parker x Loki’s Son Reader)

“Yoo-hoo” gave me memories of working at the rehab centre I was at over the summer cause this old lady forgot my name and would call me by “yoohoo.”

Requested by: anon

Yoo-hoo! I would like to start by saying I love your stuff! The way you capture all the characters is just so cool! If it interests you, could you write something with the reader being the son of Loki, and Peter crushing on him? Maybe the avengers are super weary of the reader because he's got the same kinda sass as his father, but Peters just like "wow so cool!" And has a little schoolboy crush? If it's not your thing, no dramas!

Word count: 1543

"Hey, Van Winkle. What's crack-a-lackin'?" you said, dropping into a seat in front of the TV.

"Sorcerer. I'm watching Star Wars. Finally got to that on my list, and Tony has all of the movies," Steve replied, respectfully pausing it to talk to you.

"Speaking of, why are you the only one who's so nice to me? Everyone else acts like I'm going to launch an attack on the city at any given moment like my father did," you said.

"I'm patient enough to deal with your sass. By the way, we've got someone under Tony's wing who's supposed to meet you today. Around 4 PM. He's still in school."

"How old is he?"

"15, 16?"

"Oh, cool! I'm way older in Midgardian years, but I'm a teenager in Asgardian years."

"Then why do you call me old?"

"Because you are. And you slept for 70 years so you're older than I am in your Earth years, Sleeping Beauty."

Steve scoffed and leaned over to ruffle your hair, then shushing you to continue the movie. You watched with him for a little bit longer before taking the elevator up to Stark's "party deck."

"Stark! What's this I hear about a child meeting me?" you shouted, finding him with his eyes glued to his holographic screens.

"Hey, kid. I know you've lived here long enough, so I'm sure you've heard of Spider-Man," he said. "I'd like you to watch over him for a little bit. He takes care of the little people, and I think I trust you enough to let you help him."

"Actually, he doesn't really trust anyone, so that's kind of a compliment," Pepper chuckled, entering the room just then. "We're going to let you train with Spider-Man for a little bit and you can see how you two work together."

"There's a bunch of Avengers in this building. Why are you calling the Asgardian demigod for such a small chore?"

"Cause I wanted to!"

A figure barreled in from onto the deck with a schoolbag on his back. He took his bag off and landed straight on the couch in a thump.

"Hey, what did I tell you about entering like that? You're ruining my furniture."

"Sorry, Mr. Stark! I just got really excited! I can't believe I'm meeting the demigod (Y/N)!"

He stood and jerked his head to face you. You inspected his mask; the only expression you could get from him was his mask's eyes.

"Oh my god, hey! We can go to the training room right now. I'm Spider-Man," he said, holding his hand out to you.

"Man of Spiders. I'm (Y/N), son of Loki," you replied, taking his hand.

"Like, the dude who attacked us Loki?"

"Yeah, but he's just misunderstood. Shall we?"

His body language seemed to become even more animated, despite it already being at its peak (or so you thought), and he motioned you to follow him to the training room. It was a big room and some people were already inside, so you both felt a little less on edge.

"Show me what you can do," you said, dropping onto a bench and nodding your head.

His posture seemed to change and he adjusted his stance as he nodded. He asked someone to spar with him, and it happened to be Bucky Barnes. His fluid movements, gymnastics background, and surprising strength was impressive, but it was clear he was pulling his punches. A couple of times, he used the webs from his wrists. Eventually, the sergeant had him pinned and pulled him up, complaining that he was pulling his punches, which made it seem like it wasn't the first time.

"I have to admit, you move well. Wonderful tactics, beautiful form. I do agree with Bucky, though. Don't pull your punches."

You called over Wanda, who you claimed was your only equal in the entire tower. Her understanding of the mind could rival your use of magic, and you took to the center where Bucky and Spider-Man had been fighting. The fight began almost instantly. You knew each other well enough but could never anticipate the other's next move. You both kept a tally of how many fights you've won, and so far she was only one ahead of you. This time you knew you'd be taking the win.

From Bucky and Spider-Man's view from the bench, it was friendly banter along with all kinds of magic. Red mixed with all the colours your magic released blended as obstacles continued to arise. He had never seen anyone who looked around his age delivering a punch or kick as beautifully as you. Your gracefully moving hands when using magic imitated the movement of a dancer, and eventually your hand shot up to hit Wanda with a padded platform. She laid there for a moment before moving to grab your arm with hers. You were yanked down next to her, and you both landed in laughter.

"Dude. That was so cool!" Spider-Man exclaimed, voice increasing in pitch. "That magic stuff was like whoosh!"

"You know this is the guy whose father nearly destroyed New York?" Bucky pointed out.

"But he knows magic!"

"Fair point."

"We'll train together tomorrow and see how it works out. For now I think you should do your thing and then go home," you said.

You both walked out of the room in silence, him nervously playing with his gloved hands.

"Thank you for taking the time to work with me," Spider-Man said. "It really means a lot. Can't wait to see you tomorrow."

"Go save your city, Spider-Man," you chuckled.

He put a hand on your shoulder in a gesture of thanks before taking the elevator down. You smiled to yourself, deciding you would thank Stark personally for finding you a friend.

The first few days working with him were him in awe of your powers, and you had to nudge him when you were training to get him back to the real world. He was so fascinated by your magic and you couldn't blame him. It sometimes surprised you with its beauty. Even your personality left him enamoured. The rest of the team was wary of you and treated you like a child, but you pretended it didn't faze you and always had a good comeback for their comments.

Once he was used to your powers enough, you started going into the city. He liked getting into the action a lot more and you liked to use your magic on the side, so it worked out. Sometimes he'd use his strength to carry you as he swung, and sometimes you'd create holds for him to swing his webs onto if you were by shorter buildings. Crimefighting was easy. You both were good at fighting, and having two people who were exceptional at their skill meant easily helping each other if one was in trouble.

You met Tony Stark's intern weeks after you had been working with Spider-Man. Peter Parker, a dorky teenager who really loved science and the Avengers, stopped in awe of you.

"Hey. I'm-I'm Peter," he introduced.

"(Y/N). You know me?"

"Yeah, you're just on the news sometimes. Helping Spider-Man, and you're a really cool magic user. I mean, all magic is cool."

You gave him an amused smile, watching him fiddle with some touchscreen pen in his hands. You took a seat next to him and watched him work for a while.

"When did you get your powers, Peter?" you asked. "Not every day you see a teenager playing vigilante and taking down crime every night."

Peter stopped and looked at you with wide eyes, his pen gripped tightly in his hand.

"You can break that if you squeeze too hard, but you know that," you chuckled, using your magic to ease the pen out of his grip.

"How-How did you know?"

"Same voice, same mannerisms. You're also not that subtle. It only took me a few minutes to realise you were Spider-Man."

He was silent for a few moments more. Just when it was about to get awkward, Natasha walked in.

"Oh, it's you. Peter, you have that mission report ready?" she asked. "I can take it up for you if you want."

"Oh, yeah! It's right here."

He started fishing around in a drawer behind him.

"I thought Stark was joking. Why are you hanging around Merlin here?" she questioned, leaning on a table.

"Because we're friends!" you chimed, flashing her a wide smile.

She gave you an unimpressed look, leaving as soon as she got Peter's file. You shut the drawer behind him with a flick of your hand.

"That is literally so cool," Peter said.

“I wish other people thought that.”

“Then I’ll fight them because they’re wrong!”

“You wanna take on literally every Avenger that isn’t Steve Rogers?”

His mouth snapped shut and you laughed.

“I’m not exactly liked around here. But it’s nice to have a change.”

You put your hand on his with a warm smile, and he returned it. The warmth of his hand holding yours as he continued to work would stay with you for years to come.

[wanderingcas]

Safe and Sound. Commission for @starsmish 3.5k words

. . . 

Castiel leans back against the wall adjacent to the men’s bathroom, looking down at the watch-face poking out of his sleeve. People stare at him curiously as they filter in and out of the restrooms. Castiel smiles politely back, all the while keeping his eyes trained for a specific face: one with bright green eyes, a jawline that Castiel is positive would cut glass, and dusty blonde hair. 

He was assigned to Dean Winchester approximately two weeks ago. What Castiel originally thought was going to be a low-key assignment, protecting Lawrence’s newly-appointed councilman is turning out to be one of his more difficult cases. 

The first red flag is that Dean’s family hired Castiel without informing Dean at all. According to the family, Dean had been receiving death threats from an alt-right group so cleverly named “the Trumpers” because of Dean’s very liberal agenda in his politics. The family was concerned. Castiel assumed that Dean was also concerned. 

But when Castiel walked into the room and saw Dean for the first time, saw the equal parts of surprised and pissed off look on Dean’s face: that was Castiel’s second red flag. 

He checks his watch again. It’s been 20 minutes. 

“Goddammit.” Castiel pivots and swings through the bathroom door. He opens each empty stall. He does a useless circle around the empty bathroom. 

“God damn it,” he says again, voice echoing off the tiles.

. . . 

It isn’t hard to find Dean, as the workaholic councilman is parked where he usually is: his office.

Castiel smacks a styrofoam cup onto Dean’s desk. Drops of cold coffee spring to liberate themselves through the plastic lid’s opening. “You forgot this.” 

Dean’s eyes barely leave his computer screen. “Mm,” he replies. He picks it up; sips. Grimaces. “That’s disgusting.” 

Sitting in a chair across from Dean’s desk, Castiel says, “Yes, Dean. That’s because it’s cold. Because you left it. Hours ago.” 

“Huh,” Dean says.

“When you left a location without informing me,” Castiel continues to explain. “Again.” Dean still doesn’t look up. “That’s dangerous,” Castiel adds.

“Uh-huh.” 

Castiel kicks the desk with the toe of his foot, making it rattle. “Are you even listening to me?” 

Dean finally takes his hands off the keyboard, folds them in front of him. “Cas. I have more important things to do than listen to you bitch about how you failed at your job. Again.”

“You can’t keep running away from me,” Castiel says tightly. “I can’t keep you safe if you’re constantly running away.”

Dean leans back in his chair, laces his fingers behind his head. “I dunno, I’d call it more like… walking briskly. Not my fault that you’re too slow.” 

“I was waiting for you.” 

“Huh. Didn’t see you.” 

“I was waiting,” Castiel continues, leaning forward, “as I was all the other times when you’ve attempted to ditch me. During that press conference on Wednesday, at every grocery store you go into, at the restaurant last night—” 

“Well, you being on my date was a little weird, to be fair,” Dean says.

“Dean.” Castiel pinches the bridge of his nose. “You hired me to protect you. I can’t do that if you won’t allow me to do so.” 

“My family hired you,” Dean corrects, “and based on some stupid disorganized Trump fanatic group that couldn’t even find their own ass if it was handed to them. Nothing’s gonna happen, okay? I’m keeping you around to make my brother chill out. That’s it. I don’t need your damn protection.” 

“I disagree,” Castiel says. “I’ve been monitoring tagged posts with your Twitter username, and some of them are violent death threats. From multiple extremist groups. Additionally, you did a very poor job at hiding the letter you received that depicted a very graphic drawing of you getting eaten alive by hellhounds.” 

“But that’s all they are, Cas,” Dean says. “Threats. Nothing’s actually happened. You’ve been up my butt for weeks; have you seen anyone stalking me? Confronting me personally?” At Castiel’s reluctant dissenting head shake, Dean says, “See? It’s fine. Nothing to worry about.” 

Castiel hasn’t known Dean long, but he can identify three qualities in him: stubborn, handsome, and fiercely loyal to his family. Castiel straightens in his chair and plays his last hand “Elections are coming up,” he says. “That’s when people get most heated. And if you’re ignoring the seriousness of the situation, there may be an attack on you that could get multiple people hurt if it’s not intercepted. Like the woman you were on a date with last night.” Castiel takes a breath, attempts to hit home. “Or your family.” 

It has the desired effect: Dean’s face becomes stormy and still. He slowly points a finger at Castiel, jabbing with it in the air. “Don’t you dare bring my family into this.” 

“I am not doing so. The people who are threatening your life will.” 

Dean sits, stone-faced, until an unheard noise makes Dean snap to attention. “All right, Cas. You wanna play it like that? Then here’s what I think: you’re bad at your job. It’s why you work as an independent contractor who costs next to nothing to hire. You’re shitty at your profession, and you’re blaming me for it. I’m not a ninja, and yet I slip past you every goddamn time. You think that’s a coincidence?” 

Castiel clenches the fabric of his pants, bunched at the knees, willing himself not to take the bait. “If this whole thing is some sort of ridiculous self-punishment—”

“Where the hell did you pull that out of your ass?” Dean scoffs.

“—from that attack last year that hurt your brother, instead of you, because he got caught in the crossfire—”

Dean says, voice raised and sharp, “Don’t you dare bring that up, you son of a—”

“You could really get hurt, Dean!” Castiel shouts above him. “This isn’t a damn game. No matter what your problem is with me, or with having protection in the first place, you have to face the facts.” 

They stare at each other in a moment of silent standoff. The hallway beyond Dean’s office’s open door has gone tensely quiet. 

Dean stands and pushes his chair back harder than necessary. “I did a little digging on you too,” he says, a little too calmly. “You were fired from the former Secretary of State’s detail because you made a mistake on the job. It’s classified, obviously, but I’m willing to bet it had to do with that bomb making its way to the East Wing. Am I on the right track?” 

Castiel clenches his jaw. “The whole security detail was fired,” he says. “Not just me.” 

There’s a flicker in Dean’s expression—a softness that Castiel had not seen yet from him—but it’s gone as fast as it occurred. He replaces it with a condescending smile. “Pretty hard to protect anyone properly after that piss-poor mistake, huh?” 

Something in Castiel’s chest splinters. “All right,” he snaps, the backs of his knees smacking the chair as he stands. “Message received. I’ll resign from protecting you, effective immediately. You won’t be hearing from me again.” 

“Peachy,” Dean shoots back. He falls back into his chair, trains his eyes once again onto the computer screen again. 

Castiel has his hand on the knob, clenching it so hard it could shatter. “Whatever your opinion of me is; I hope you think about what I said.” He turns the knob sharply against the silence behind him, says, “I don’t want to see you get hurt,” before slamming the door behind him.

He takes the stairs that are down the hall from Dean’s office. His feet hitting the metal stairs echo sharply in the empty space. Striding through the lobby of the office building, he narrowly avoids connecting shoulders with a group of men who are walking quickly in the other direction.

When he gets outside, he doesn’t know what to do. He pulls his scarf against the wind. As is the theme of the week, people look at him strangely as he stands there, staring down at the sidewalk. The sun begins to slump in the sky. 

“Idiot,” he says to the ground, as if to explain. “He’s a goddamn idiot.” 

Despite this, he knows he has to go back in. 

He’s clenching and unclenching his hands, indecisive, until his phone begins vibrating violently in his coat pocket. He scrambles to take it out with his stiff fingers and pulls off a glove with his teeth so he can hit the green button on the touchscreen. “Hello?” 

“Cas—” says Dean’s voice, cut off by something that sounds like static. 

Castiel holds the phone closer to his ear, listening intently. “Dean? Hello?” 

“Cas—” says Dean’s voice, again, this time more desperate. It sounds like some sort of fabric is being rubbed against the receiver, making the connection fuzzy. A few odd thuds are heard over the receiver. 

“Dean, what’s going on? Where are you?” He hears Dean’s voice again, but this time it’s not forming a word—more like a cry. The realization of what’s happening dumps over Castiel like cold water. 

“Fuck,” Castiel says. 

Like a shot out of a gun, he whips around and bolts through the revolving doors. He holds the phone to his ear like a lifeline with one hand, pushing people out of the way with the other. “Dean, hang on!” he shouts into the phone. “I’m coming, just hang on! Call the police, tell them to come to office 202!” he barks at the bewildered doorman as he sprints by. 

He was only gone for ten minutes, he thinks desperately. Or twenty. How long was he standing outside?

Castiel dashes into the stairwell he used earlier to leave. As he begins sprinting up the stairs, he hears the grunts and thuds he heard over the phone become a reality.

Castiel throws his phone aside and increases his speed, taking two stairs at a time. He sees a group of men all huddled around one broken one. He jumps at the back of one of the men, barely slowing his sprint, knocking him to the ground. 

Seeing Dean bleeding and curled up on the ground brings out something primal in Castiel. He kicks a man over the railing, barely hearing the thump that follows. He punches a man with one fist and pivots to scissor-chop a man’s neck with the other. Castiel barely sees how many people there even are, barely stacks the odds in the fight: he just knows that Dean is in danger, Dean needs to be helped, Dean needs protection. 

Among the chaos, Dean has teetered to his feet and is fighting beside Castiel, landing the occasional second blow after Castiel deals the real damage. Castiel grabs Dean by the arm, leading him toward the door that opens to the hallway. He fumbles for his taser, aiming and firing at a man running toward them. 

“Go to your office and lock the door,” Castiel tells Dean, already pushing him into the hallway. He sees an argument in Dean’s eyes; Castiel barks, “Go!” 

. . . 

In the end, one man against six is a bit stacked, even for a trained bodyguard. He’s caught in a headlock and can barely see out of his left eye by the time the police arrive. 

As soon as his neck is free, the police shouting at the assailants to get on the ground around him, he stumbles into the light of the hallway and runs toward Dean’s office. 

He finds Dean with the EMTs, a blanket being put around his shoulders, a stretcher prepared for him to be taken to an ambulance downstairs. 

Castiel stands in the doorway, waves off the medic trying to treat him. “Focus on the councilman,” he snaps. 

Castiel walks beside the stretcher as they wheel Dean out of the building; Castiel can tell that Dean is pretty hurt since he barely protests to the special treatment. 

When Dean reaches for Castiel’s hand, he decides that Dean is downright delusional; nonetheless he grabs Dean’s hand tightly, refusing to let go during the whole ambulance ride to the hospital. 

. . . 

“Cas.” 

Castiel raises his head from where it’s cradled in his hands. His delirious mind mistakes the voice for Dean’s; a few blinks into the fluorescent hospital lights confirms that it’s Sam Winchester looming before him. 

He feels a whole new wave of shame overtake him. “Sam.” Castiel wipes a shaking hand over his face. “God. I don’t know how to—” He stutters out a breath. “How is he?” 

Sam sits in the plastic chair next to Castiel’s. “He’s stable. A few broken ribs, concussion… nothing too serious, though. They’re going to keep him overnight for observation.” 

Castiel nods. He can’t sit still, has a weird tremor in his leg. “I am so sorry,” he whispers. 

“How long have you been here?” Sam asks. 

It’s a ridiculous question that Castiel couldn’t care less about the answer to. “I don’t know. What time is it?” 

“They brought Dean in six hours ago,” Sam says. “I got on a flight as soon as you called me.” 

Castiel nods numbly. He doesn’t even remember that phone call. Or where his phone is now. 

“Cas.” Sam puts a hand on Castiel’s shoulder; he flinches at the touch. “Have you had anyone look at you?” 

“There was a nurse,” Castiel says. He vaguely points to his swollen left eye. “Stitches.” He can’t meet the younger Winchester’s eyes. It makes no sense that Sam’s being gentle or caring to someone who so tragically and stupidly let his older brother down. If anything, Sam should be shoving lawsuit papers underneath Castiel’s nose.

“They arrested all the guys that attacked him,” Sam says. He huffs a laugh. “Although the majority of them had to be hospitalized, too, after the number you did on them.” 

Castiel clears his throat against the scratchiness that’s rising up in it. “Dean fought back, too.” 

Sam chuckles, shakes his head. “Of course he did.” 

They sit in silence, as nurses and white coats and stretchers scurry by. Castiel keeps his eyes on the scuffed linoleum floor that’s yellowed with age.

“It wasn’t your fault,” Sam says, shattering the silence. 

Sharply rising to his feet, Castiel says, “Don’t.” 

Sam stands with him. “Seriously, Cas, it wasn’t. Dean was being difficult. He ignored the dangers—and you can probably tell by now how freaking stubborn he is. I’m honestly surprised you lasted this long with him.” 

“I should have stayed by his side, no matter how much he complained,” Castiel says. “It’s part of the job. I didn’t do my due diligence, I didn’t protect him, I didn’t even see this attack coming—”

“Cas, whoa, slow down.” Sam puts a hand on his shoulder again, pulls him to face him. “These guys that attacked Dean aren’t even an alt-right group that was contacting him with those death threats. It was a completely random attack. They saw Dean go into the building and they impulsively decided to go in.” He looks imploringly at Castiel. “I don’t blame you, not even for a minute. And neither does Dean.” 

Castiel feels something thrum through him. “He’s awake?” 

“Yeah. And he’s asking for you. That’s why I came out here.” 

“I don’t—” Castiel shakes his head. “I don’t think I can—”

“I think he wants to apologize,” Sam continues, “Which for Dean is … well, frankly, a minor miracle. So don’t pass up this opportunity, okay?” 

Castiel looks for a moment at Sam’s reassuring smile. “I’ll go,” he finally relents. “At the very least to apologize to him.” 

“Whatever makes you two stubborn idiots talk to each other,” Sam says with a gentle pat on Castiel’s back. 

Dean’s hospital room is a private room with a security guard stationed in front of it. Castiel doesn’t meet the guard’s eyes as he walks in. 

Dean is on the bed, hunched over a sprawl of papers on his lap. He’s shirtless, bandages wrapped around his bare torso.

Castiel stands there for a moment, mouth open, staring at the scene. “What the ever-loving hell are you doing?” 

Dean looks up. “Hey, Cas,” he says with a lopsided grin. 

“‘Hey, Cas’?” Castiel spits out. “Are you kidding me? You’re doing work?” Dean opens his mouth to argue, barely gets a word out before Castiel is striding over to him and snatching the papers from him, dumping them on the floor. “And you shouldn’t be half-naked in a hospital where you can catch a cold,” Castiel continues, snapping Dean’s hospital gown in the air before depositing it on his head. “Put that on.” 

“Jesus, fine,” Dean tentatively putting his arms through the sleeves, wincing at the disturbed bruises on his skin. “I didn’t realize Sam hired a nanny instead of a bodyguard.” 

Castiel sits in the chair adjacent to the bed, bristling. “I won’t have you getting hurt on my watch again, Dean,” he snaps. “Not for the last few hours I’m in your employment.” 

Dean blinks. “Are you quitting?” 

Castiel looks at him incredulously. 

“Okay, yeah. Well, I probably owe you an explanation.” Dean shifts minutely in his bed. “And an apology.” 

Seeing Dean vulnerable deflates Castiel from any anger. “No, I have to apologize. If I had been there—”

“But you weren’t, because I pushed you away, Cas. The things I said to you…” Dean rubs at the eye that’s not bandaged, huffing out a sigh. “I said those awful things because I knew pissing you off wouldn’t make you go away; hurting you would. I know how to find people’s weak spots and apply pressure. It’s why I’m in politics I guess.” 

“It’s not like the things you said to me weren’t true,” Castiel says softly. “You’re right in that I did get fired. That I failed at my job. Similarly to how I failed at this one.” 

“No, Cas, that’s not it. You’re human, okay? But I just—” Dean pauses. Frowns down at his hands clasped over the thin, blue hospital blanket. “Sam was attacked last year. You know that. He didn’t get hurt, but—those people were after me. And I didn’t protect him. My whole life, it’s just been me and Sam against the world. I always protected him, kept him safe, and last year I realized that I just… can’t anymore.” He laughs, but it’s humorless. “It was fucking depressing.” 

Castiel blames it on the lack of sleep when his hand reaches out and gently grasps Dean’s arm. “Dean…” 

“And then Sam hires you because he thinks that I can’t take care of myself, and I just saw red. I saw you as this, I dunno,” Dean waves a hand in Castiel’s direction, “physical manifestation of everything I can’t do: take care of Sam or even myself from a bunch of crazy lunatics. I took it out on you. And I’m sorry.” 

Tightening his grip on Dean’s arm, Castiel says, “I shouldn’t have left you.” 

“It’s not your fault, Cas. Seriously. I don’t blame you for a second.” Dean wraps the hospital gown tighter around himself. “I blame myself, for being a coward. Not really facing the dangers that are out there.” 

Castiel shakes his head. “Dean—”

“I know there’s bad people on both sides,” Dean says, words rushing forward. “I just wanted to… I dunno. Be one of the good guys. Be brave.” 

“You are brave,” Castiel says. “You’re assertive in your beliefs, you don’t back down from your opinions just because someone dissents. That’s brave.” 

Dean shrugs, pondering on that for a minute. The heart rate monitor beats a steady thrum in the silence. “That means a lot,” he finally says. 

“Good. Because it’s true.” Castiel adds, firmly, “And protecting you has been an honor.” 

There’s a rise of color on Dean’s cheeks; he chuckles, “Jesus, Cas, buy me dinner first.” 

Castiel smiles. He pulls his hand back; as he does, Dean grabs it, just as firmly and decisively as he did while riding in the ambulance just hours before. 

“I’ve been an ass,” Dean says, “and I would understand if you don’t want to. But honestly, Cas, I want you around.” 

Castiel tries to take his hand back, but Dean holds tighter. “No, Dean. I think you’re incorrect. I wouldn’t keep you safe, I’d just—”

“I was safe until I pushed you away,” Dean says. 

Castiel can’t argue with that. He looks away from Dean’s green eyes are imploring. “I suppose that’s true,” he admits.

“I won’t do that again,” Dean says, “seriously. I’ll let you do your job. If I promise not to keep trying to dodge you, and at least, uh—try to be less stubborn and make your life easier… would you—” 

It’s the lack of sleep, Castiel thinks, it must be, because his mouth is moving and is interrupting Dean to say, “Yes.” 

Dean gapes at him. “You really want to—”

“Yes,” Castiel says again. More sure this time. He squeezes Dean’s hand tighter. “If you promise not to leave me standing in front of bathrooms again as you climb through the windows, then yes, I will stay. Keep you safe.” 

The smile Dean gives Castiel is blinding and beautiful, and if Castiel were hooked up to that heart rate monitor, it would be going wild, giving him away. It’s the first real one that Castiel’s since he started protecting Dean.

“I promise, Cas.” 

[incoherentbabblings]

An Endless Hope (3/9)

After a horrendous blizzard falls over Gotham, Tim undergoes a sharp change in character before disappearing. Upon discovering what has become of him, Stephanie sets off on a solo journey in a magic realm to bring him home, meeting some faces which seems awfully familiar along the way.

Archive Of Our Own Link Click Click!

On her way down to the botanical gardens, Stephanie’s mother rang.

Fumbling trying to hold onto her box of roses, Stephanie answered the phone. Her feet crunched loudly as she crossed the snow-covered grass. She flapped her fingers free from the mitten cover so the fingerless gloves could allow her touchscreen to work. She had worn Tim’s gloves since he had vanished, feeling like punishing herself for how she had failed him.

“Hi mom!”

Ooft, her fake cheeriness hurt even her own ears.

“Steph, are you okay? I hadn’t heard from you all week!”

Stephanie nearly dropped the plants in her fright. “Oh God. Mom, I’m so sorry. I’m safe. Promise. Are you okay?”

“Living out the hospital currently, thank you for asking.”

Shame flooded through Stephanie. “I’m sorry mom.”

Crystal sighed, deflating. “I guess I didn’t call either. It’s just been non-stop here. So many people needing help from the streets.”

“I can imagine. We couldn’t do anything the other night. It was too cold even for us!”

“You’re all good then?”

You meaning Tim, but Crystal would never say Tim’s name until held at gunpoint probably. He was just that boy, or him. It was sort of funny that – not only had Tim and Stephanie’s outlook’s on life undergone a flip – so had their relationships with their partner’s parent. Bruce liked Steph after a few years of tribulations (or so she thought), but the same time had not been kind to Crystal’s estimations of Tim.

Certainly, telling Crystal that Tim had kicked Stephanie the other night and run away would not have added positive points.

Stephanie swallowed dryly, not sure if she should lie for a moment, but ultimately sided on the side of fibbing. Her mother had enough to worry about at the hospital. Stephanie entering despair and seeking help from a misanthropic villain would not help Crystal do her job.

Yes, lying was the better option at the moment.

“We’re both good. We’ve got a lot of time to kill, we’re out at the botanical gardens today.”

Crystal sucked in air between her teeth. “Hmm. Okay, but Stephanie, try to remember to give me a call once a week. Just to stop my hair from completely falling out from stress.”

“Yes mommy.”

“Be good.”

And then the call ended.

Stephanie loomed outside of the greenhouse. It was covered in a thick layer of snow, thick enough to discourage entry. But there was a huge amount of warmth showing up inside, almost like an igloo, which was how she guessed this was where Ivy was. Stephanie looked for a way in, then sighed. Knocking on the door would probably be the best bet.

Ivy was at best indifferent to humans and at worst homicidal. She tended to lie low however when natural events knocked everyone back. Nothing levels the playing field of humanity like nature. Still, Stephanie was taking a gamble. She knew this. She was banking on Ivy having information Steph only had circumstantial reasons to think she held.

But Stephanie was desperate. And when she was desperate, her brain tended to throw things like caution and logic to the wind. Act on your gut, it’ll get you there in the end.

Except that one time when it really didn’t.

As far as Stephanie could tell, she had few other options, and she wanted to give Bruce some kind of information outside of a missing boy and car. If it meant risking her life and giving up her flowers, so be it.

Stephanie knocked, then opened the glass door, and slid inside.

It was swelteringly warm in the greenhouse, filled to the brim with plants and flowers which did not belong in the United States, let alone New Jersey. Stephanie stumbled into the fishpond, disturbing small lily pads.

“Excuse me? Poison Ivy?” She gulped, fear apparent on her features, as she tried to locate the green lady amongst the foliage. “Doctor Isley?”

“The only people who still call me doctor are those mocking me.”

Pamela’s voice came from behind, making Stephanie jump in the frigid water.

“I’m not mocking. I promise. I… I just…”

Ivy looked down at the roses in Stephanie’s arms and frowned. Steph held them out for her to take. “I wanted to give you these. My boyfriend and I were trying to grow them, but he went missing during the storm. I’m trying to look for him, but I need someone to look after these until I get back.”

Ivy raised her eyebrows, unimpressed. “And I was your first choice to nanny? Hilarious. Get out. One warning.”

“No please. I’m not mocking I swear.” Stephanie brazenly trudged forward deeper into the water. Ivy looked bemused, but Stephanie knew her interest in this strange young woman wouldn’t last too long. “I want you to look after them, but I also wondered if you knew anything about this storm. I would give you these to look after in exchange for information and to let me look for my boyfriend.”

Pamela looked at the flowers, then at Stephanie.

“Your lover isn’t the only one missing in a snowstorm.”

“I don’t think this is just a snowstorm. Batman and Robin have gone chasing a lead, but I think they’re looking in the wrong place. I don’t think it’s an easy fix.”

“No. It’s not.” And finally she took the flowers from Stephanie, gently stroking the petals. “What happened to the red? They haven’t settled.”

Stephanie gulped and told a half lie. “An accident. They fell. They had their own box, but it broke and I tried to… I tried.”

Ivy snorted. “Not good enough. I’ll take them off you. You can leave now.”

Stephanie slowly got out of the water. “But you said this isn’t just any old snowstorm. Do you know who caused it? Or what?”

Pamela turned around, clambering onto a vine which lifted her high above Stephanie.

“Nothing natural,” She said dryly, chuckling to herself. “Why do you care so much?”

“If I can know what caused it, I can fix it.”

Pamela rolled her eyes. “And bring your beau home.”

“Yes.” Stephanie uttered, glaring at Ivy.

“Listen little girl. All I know is, the cause is not of this earth. Not to be found in a machine. Not to be found in men. Something else.”

Stephanie followed Pamela waltzing around two levels up, craning her neck as she moved around on the floor.

“Like magic? Because I know someone who knows something about magic. This can’t be good for your plants, right? Don’t you want the cold to leave?”

Pamela flicked her wrists and the doors flew open, tree branches holding them to allow the frigid air in.

“I want you to leave Miss Brown. Good luck getting the storm to end, and good luck finding that sweet boy of yours. Maybe when Mr Drake-Wayne returns, I will trust you with these roses again.”

Stephanie tried not to appear shocked that Ivy knew her and Tim from sight and inference alone, but she was nakedly frantic.

“But I—”

“It’s magic. Magic not from this world. That’s all I can tell. It will pass. Let it do so on its own you stubborn girl.”

“No. I need to know Tim is safe.”

Ivy dropped down once more and got uncomfortably close. She raised a green hand and cradled Stephanie’s cheek. Stephanie, for her part, stared right back, unafraid.

“I don’t enjoy humans and their little love stories. Who cares if this boy comes back to you? There’s always another.”

“…Not abandoning him. Not giving up. It’s a thing for me.”

“Hmm.” And in an unintentionally mocking manner, she curled her fingers into Stephanie’s hair, loose strands reminding Ivy of vines and Steph of how much more comfortable the motion was when it was Tim holding onto her. “It’s all a bit pathetic honestly.”

Stephanie swallowed bile, resisting the urge to spit on Poison Ivy to get her to back off.

“You know more than you’re telling me.” Stephanie pushed.

It seemed Ivy had had enough of Steph and took a step back.

“Leave.”

Stephanie noticed too late that a vine had curled its way around her ankle. Looking down, her stomach dropped, but before she could say anything, the vine tightened, flinging her back and out with a squeal. She landed on a large mound of snow, unharmed, but stuck with her legs flailing around. She heard the distinct solid thud of the greenhouse doors slamming shut.

“Oh, come on!” Stephanie wiggled, trying to loosen up the snow around her torso.

What a waste of time. Of course, this storm wasn’t natural. They’d known that from the start. And now she was stuck in snow, and she had given up her roses. Her beautiful roses that she had invested far too much emotional value in. Why couldn’t she do one thing right? Every solution she tried made things worse. Like a curse. Hold onto hope, because she certainly had nothing else going for her.

Swinging her ankles, she screamed, which soon morphed into a cry. Snow crumpled and went in her mouth, making her wail.

Bad day, bad week, bad life…

Someone seemed to take pity on her, and grabbed her black legging covered ankles, dragging her out from her snowy prison. Snow went up her jacket and top, making her squeal in discomfort.

To her surprise, the person who tugged her out had bright blue skin.

“Klarion!” She exclaimed.

“Oh good! It is you. I followed the smell of Christmas and desperation.”

Stephanie sat up, shaking her coat free of snow, despair momentarily forgotten.

She had helped Klarion the witch boy once or twice, never of her own free will, but still. He was harmless enough, to her at least. He smiled widely at her, but in a way which was not reassuring. Her own smile turned brittle, then cracked and fell into misery. She was still reeling from the useless encounter with Ivy. It had maybe narrowed down where to hunt akin to reducing the search from a needle in a haystack to a grain of sand in a rice bag.

Disoriented and directionless were two words that came to mind. She tried very hard to not let her frustration seep into her acknowledgement of Klarion (who looked entirely too happy to see her), but still, her tone had some bite to it.

“What is it? Does Teekl need a new girlfriend?”

“Oh no,” He said, and sure enough, his ginger cat familiar hopped up around his shoulders, acting like an oversized scarf. “I have come to help you this time. I understand you are a friend of a friend of mine. I have many of these here nowadays.”

The last thing Stephanie wanted was a distraction, however well meaning, from trying to melt the snow and find Tim. She held up an apologetic hand.

“I’m sorry Klarion, but you’ve caught me at a really bad time and –”

Klarion, in his silly little pilgrim outfit and pointy black hair, bit his index finger. “Oh, I know! I know how you are feeling. You saw me when Teekl ran away… oh I was crestfallen. And before you so did Timothy!”

Stephanie, still sat on the snow, gaped. “You know Tim?”

Klarion seemed shocked she did not know. “You mean he never mentioned me? Why, we saved the world together, and Teekl, who is my world, a year or two ago. At least I think it was… time is funny here.”

Hope sprung anew in Stephanie’s chest and she rose, holding onto Klarion’s forearms.

“Then you know he’s missing?”

“Exactly! I am here to help you bring him back home and…brr… end this winter.”

“Oh! Klarion! You’re a godsend!” She hugged him tight. “What do we need to do?”

“Come, come! We must go to the river. Perhaps call your family. This trip may take a while.”

 *****

 “Oh my God you’re blue.” Cassandra exclaimed as Stephanie and Klarion arrived. Duke looked equally dumbfounded. The wind was icy, whipping around the pebbly ground underneath Kane bridge. It pierced Stephanie to her core, but Klarion seemed – as always – unaffected by his surroundings. Sighing, Stephanie waved vaguely between a politely smiling Klarion and the two batfamily members.

“Cassandra, Duke, this is Klarion. Klarion, this is Cassandra and Duke. They’re Tim’s siblings and friends of mine. Klarion is a witch who’s a… friend… of mine and Tim’s.”

“Hi…” Duke waved. Klarion bowed, and Cassandra made a woompf noise. She did not have a good history with magicians and took a cautious step back and behind Duke. Teekl appeared on top of Stephanie’s car, then leapt into Duke’s arms. He caught the cat, exclaiming, whilst Cassandra flinched away, not enjoying the vibes the witch and his familiar were giving off. It was off kilter and feral. Unmanageable and unpredictable.

“Right.” Klarion said, peering across the river with a dramatic step forward, looking like a Smurf pilgrim pioneer. “Are you ready to go?”

“You haven’t told me anything. Where are we going?”

“Not we. Just you.”

“Alone?”

Cassandra pushed Duke forward, calling over the wind, “What’s going on?”

Klarion ignored her, speaking only to Stephanie. “Hmm? Oh, you don’t know about the storm and its creator?”

“Only that it’s not of this Earth.”

“Indeed!” Klarion sounded entirely too cheerful. “You have been to my realm Stephanie, but there are many others to explore. The lady who caused this storm usually stays within her own, but sometimes she gets bored, and likes to go exploring.”

Stephanie slowly put the pieces together. “So… a magic… lady did this?”

“Magick. But yes. She likes to pick up people sometimes. I try to keep quiet track of my friends, and I noticed Tim had disappeared a few days ago. That coupled with this nasty weather of hers, well, one does not have to be a detective to put the pieces together!” Klarion nudged Stephanie in the gut, trying to be playful, but she only looked sick at his words.

“How do I bring him home? Will she hurt him?”

“Yes. She doesn’t mean to of course, but she likes humans so much. They freeze thanks to her though. She is sad for a little while, then decides to try again. Something we do not want for Tim.”

“No.” Stephanie breathed.

Klarion’s look became sympathetic. “He was very cruel before he left wasn’t he?”

Stephanie said nothing, and Klarion tutted. “It’s her way. She is not fond of a human’s warmth, not realising it is what makes them such.”

Cassandra meanwhile stomped her foot. “Who is ‘she’?”

“A Snow Queen!” Klarion gestured around him. “In case that was not obvious from the weather. Fey. Magick.”

“Fairy-tale.” Duke finished, blinking in realisation. “It’s just like a fairy-tale.”

“Is it?” Klarion shrugged. “I don’t know what that is. Regardless, Stephanie, you should be the one to melt his heart and bring him home. Since you’re the one who lost him.”

She tried not to let his matter of fact manner of speaking sting. “Why just me? Why can’t I go get my Batgirl suit? Why can’t you come with me? Or Cass and Duke?”

“Wait, he knows your secret ID?” Duke muttered, three steps behind Steph and Klarion’s conversation.

“Oh dear, Stephanie. You are going to be sick of this reason soon I am sure.”

She laughed brokenly. “It’s magic reasons huh?”

“Magick. And yes. Remember, the rules are very different in different realms. And names matter. Timothy Jackson Drake has been taken from Stephanie Brown. Stephanie Brown must be the one to bring Timothy Jackson Drake back. Anyone else entering will be kicked out. Their purpose does not fit with the rules. One human over there is bad enough… two!  Oh dear. Three? Four? It will end terribly!” After his worrisome but somehow cheery doom of a lecture he held out his hand for Steph to take. “Here, I will share with you what I use to keep an eye on you and Tim. It will feel like an instinct to a human, pulling you in the right direction.”

Stephanie took off her (Tim’s) gloves, then held Klarion’s right hand. It was painfully warm. Soon enough her heart jerked, and she stumbled forward, almost careening onto the frozen river. Cassandra caught her and pulled her back.

“Oh!” Stephanie huffed, her heart legitimately aching from the separation.

“You will get used to it. Follow that pull, and you will find Tim. Remember, magick is not just something you do; it is something to hear and feel. Remember that and you will find our friend. I know you will succeed and find him before his heart freezes for good.”

Klarion smiled in that weird manner of his. Supposedly reassuring and bright but to the three humans standing by the river, it was unnerving and dissonant with his message.

Duke shook his head. “All well and good for Tim, but what about the storm? It’s been a week of this, how much longer? Is Stephanie going to fight a witch with her bare fists too?”

“Oh my God.” Stephanie groaned, crumpling in on herself. Cassandra remained curled around her, protecting her from the wind.

Klarion looked up, shielding his eyes against the glare of the white clouds reflecting off the white ground. Stephanie herself felt like she had been squinting for her entire life, like her eyes would never be fully open again.

“The storm will dissipate soon enough. She got what she came for, and this leakage will fade the further into her realm she returns. This is a problem which will fix itself. Tim however, will need a bit of help.”

“But why Tim?” Stephanie asked, desperation for him blending with relief for Gotham. “Of all the people on this planet, why target him?”

“That I do not know.” Klarion clapped his hands. “Come now, the more time we waste the less time you have to catch up.”

“But Bruce and Damian aren’t here.” Cassandra urged. “We should wait. There may be another way… so that Stephanie doesn’t have to go alone?”

At that moment the wind picked up, screaming it was so fierce, pushing the group away from the frozen water’s edge. She didn’t understand why, but it made Stephanie’s hackles rise. It felt like a challenge, or a warning. Don’t follow.

She was a squishy human. Klarion was seemingly willing to send her alone into a realm where that was not the norm. Whatever she would be hunting, it was strong enough to bring a city to a standstill by just leaking across the border. She didn’t know where she was going, or for how long. She didn’t know if she would make it to Tim, or what to do when she found him. How would she bring him home? What if she got there (wherever there was) and it was too late? What if she failed?

But what was the alternative? If she didn’t go, she failed Tim. If she went, there was still a chance she would fail Tim.

Just a chance.

The wind died down, and Stephanie got up, displacing Cassandra. Everyone watched as she went back to her little purple car and pulled out her satchel.

“I’ll go.”

“Stephanie.” Cassandra’s voice was unabashedly worried, and Duke did not look any happier with her decision. Stephanie ignored them.

She tossed nearly everything out of her bag – her purse, her phone, her keys, her umbrella – leaving behind a bottle of water, Bruce’s scarf that she had held onto (just in case she found Tim…just in case he was cold) and a bag of dried apple slices.

It was anything but a suitable bag of provisions for a journey which had no destination or time stamp, but Stephanie’s stubbornness had clicked on, and she had made up her mind.

“You can tell Bruce I have gone to bring Tim home. I may be a while. But he has to trust me to do it. I can do it. I will do it. You believe in me Klarion?”

“Oh yes. Absolutely.”

“That’s good enough for me.” She looked to Duke and Cass, who had both paled. “You can cope a while without me, yeah?”

Klarion had moved down to the river, and held out his hand once more.

“Don’t joke! Stephanie this is insane!” Duke exclaimed. Stephanie leapt down to join Klarion on the ice. Duke and Cassandra went to follow, but with a wave of Klarion’s hand, they were shoved back several feet. The two rushed back to the edge but were somehow unable to make the final step onto the frozen river.

“You should trust your friends!” Klarion called out.

Stephanie looked up at the two on the riverbank and smiled reassuringly. “Cover for me with Bruce, yeah? I’m fixing a mistake. For honest for real.” Stephanie took Klarion’s hand. “How do I get into that world?”

“I cannot go with you, but I have opened the way. Cross the Gotham river, and do not drown.”

Stephanie looked at their feet on the ice. “It’s frozen right now. Really frozen.”

“Not for much longer. The storm is moving north very fast. Spring is coming.”

Stephanie pulled out Bruce’s scarf and wrapped it around her neck. Then she adjusted Tim’s gloves, recovering her fingertips with the mittens. She breathed into the wool, feeling it warm her neck and cheeks. She muttered to herself a small pep talk.

“Okay. Cross the river. Follow my heart. Melt Tim’s heart and bring him home from a human obsessed ice witch. Easy-peasy. It’s like a fairy-tale. Just like a fairy-tale.”

“I wish I knew what that was.” Klarion gently shoved her away from him. “Remember Stephanie. Different realm, different rules. It will turn your human head inside out if you are not alert. It has happened to Tim. Do not make the same mistake.”

The river was covered in several inches of snow, but even so, Stephanie felt unstable, like she was standing directly on black ice. Slowly she turned, took three steps, then whipped her head back around.

“Wait my mom!”

But Cassandra, Duke and Klarion were gone. Instead it was an endless frozen lake, with the only land viewable across the bay as she slowly returned to facing forward. The sky was piercing pale blue, and already she could feel the temperature rising.

“Oh. Oh my God. Steph, what have you gone and signed up for now?”

She then took a breath, and began to cross the frozen river, heading straight for land.

Back on regular Earth, Duke dropped Teekl when Stephanie vanished. Klarion waved goodbye to the open air, then turned around to see Cassandra and Duke glaring at him.

“She will be fine.” He said, for once reading the atmosphere.

“You’ve sent her to die! Both her and Tim!” Cassandra yelled. Klarion looked mortified.

“I absolutely have not! What a lack of faith you have in your friend.”

“It’s not a lack of faith knowing someone going on a magical journey with no destination with nothing but the clothes on their back is suicidal.” Duke bit out. “I hope Batman wrings your neck.”

“Is that something he does?”

“Sometimes.”

“Oh dear.” And then Klarion stepped back off the river. “Nevermind. I’ll head off now, nothing more to be done here. Stephanie will succeed. It may take a month or two, but be patient.”

“Two months?”

Everyone turned to see a very angry Batman looming from above under the bridge, Robin perched a couple of beams down. Both looked like they were genuinely considering strangling Klarion. Teekl hissed at the perceived threat. Klarion simply shrugged with his entire body.

“Or a year. Just be patient! Trust in her!” With a little uncomfortable laugh, Klarion portaled himself away, his voice echoing through the open air.

Cassandra and Duke gulped as Bruce landed in front of them.

“Care to explain how Tim and Stephanie went missing?”

“It…It was…” It was Duke’s turn to take a step behind Cassandra, who grew very puffy.

“It was magic! Or something stupid like it. Can’t you call for help?”

Damian looked out at the river. Everyone could hear new cracking noises, and the ice began to crumple under the weight of the thick snow it held up. It was still bitterly cold, but Klarion was right. The worst of the storm had passed. Gotham would recover.

Tim and Stephanie were another matter.