#bad guy enjoyer here i do apologize *smug*

[shamefulzombie]

Reading Ragnarok now, and I can't wait to see the Itarims designs when the webtoon does come..

[evacado3]

His princess ❣︎

joongooxreader pt1 pt2 pt3/3

Word count: 1393

When the chairman asked to see you personally, the first thought was definitely, I'm getting promoted.

This is it, after working full-time with that dimwit, I'm getting promoted~ And I might finally get a chance to work with Gun! You squealed at the thought, skipping through the hallways in delight, faintly humming a song.

In front of his door, you smoothed out your suit, a brand new one just for this exact event. Taking a deep breath, you pushed open the door. But what awaited you was a little, no, a lot different to what you expected. A smug-looking man, manspreading on the couch, and the chairman sitting straightly.

"Princess, I missed you!" Goo exclaimed, not too surprised when you shot him a glare. Ngl, after working with him for nearly two weeks, it's shocking how much he grew onto you. Is this his manipulative side everyone talks about?

Maybe the gut feelings were mistaken, maybe the butterflies that erupted in your stomach when the nickname 'princess' was used, were simply all an illusion.

Oh, but he noticed, how that glare was far softer than before. How your eyes would linger on him a bit longer every time he treats you after work. How you wouldn't protest about his sickly sweet nicknames anymore, how you'd enjoy his company.

The chairman snapped you out of your trance, "Take a seat." You plopped down on the place besides Goo where his hands patted. Honestly a little confused as to why you complied without complaint. You might not catch it, but his smirk widened more seeing you so obedient.

"I don't think you've heard, but you've made quite a name for yourself, miss y/n."

You tilted your head in perplex, and why on earth was Goo gawking at you like that. Creep.

"Goo's princess."

"Pardon me?" your neck snapped towards the strict man. you couldn't find an ounce of insincerity on his emotionless face. Dead silence rang through the room till Goo's laughter burst out in amusement.

Oh lord how you were wrong, let's never underestimate your gut feeling. The butterflies are going insane upon his laughter, wait, why are my cheeks burning?

"Princess! This is unexpected, but what we're trying to say is ..."

The sentence echoed throughout the room.

"What did you say?"

"I said, what we're trying to say is, you'll stay working with me, sweet pea!"

Hold on, haha I'm so tired I'm hallucinating. Right?

Your face was blank, well more like restrained.

All you were thinking about was should you risk it by yelling in the chairman's face. Though in the end, you'd rather not lose your job. So you took a big breath, "What's the meaning of this?" you said exasperated.

Goo brushed his hair back, standing up with hands behind his back. "Well, I suggested to the chairman, since more people will be targeting you now, there's no need to change and put other people into danger! Right? Miss y/n." he announced proudly.

The first use of your name to ever fall out of his lips.

"Do you have a fever princess? You're a bit red." Goo mentioned. This man needs to stop examining you like that, with those tempting eyes. You didn't even notice he took off his glasses until you finally looked him in the eye.

"I-I'm fine, just recovering from the shock." you blurted out. "But president, does that mean I have to stick with this moro- I meant Goo, until the rumors are resolved? And without increasing my salary?" you sulked.

The man cut off Goo before he could speak, "If a raise is what you're looking for, that's already done. But about the rumors, they won't go out after a day."

To be honest, your face is more green than red. Hold on, didn't I come here just to work with my beloved jonggun, time out, what's going on.

"Please just tell me what's gonna happen." sighing loudly, you lean forwards, massaging your forehead with one hand.

"I'm going to make you collect debts with joongoo instead of jonggun."

Ok, that's it. You blew up. "Wait! Chairman please, you cannot be serious about this!" Man did your dreams just wash down the drain in front of you, yeah it did.

"Buttercup, you don't have to worry about working with me! I'm reliable you know?" Goo grinned, seeing you speechless gave him another level of refreshment.

A fly might have gotten into your mouth, but that's all nothing compared to the bullshit you've just heard. Your mouth wide open, trying to digest the info you were given.

"Hold on, so you're telling me, to work every day plus night, full-time, no rest while dealing with a fool AND putting my life on the line?"

"You're pay is increased by 50 percent."

"Deal."

----------------------------------------------⌫

"Hey boss, it's them! Goo and his woman!"

You rolled your eyes hearing those words, crossing your arms, "Gosh could people stop saying that?"

Goo turned around to smirk at you, "I could get used to this, in fact, I think this is fantastic!" He turned back only to meet the eyes of the gang's boss. Oh how he terrified him with his menacing smile, a signature one of course.

"Jackass," you muttered under your breath.

"Hey, you give me a new nickname every time don't ya. What about hubby, or even prince char-"

"No way! There's no charming thing about you, I'll stick with my nicknames thank you. But anyway, why is the leader quivering like that?"

Something's not right.

"You've got to be kidding me.” you groaned.

The head only chuckled tensely, “M-mister Goo, you certainly are early, would you like something to drink? Or..." he scratched the back of his head. I wish I could tell him to drop that fake ass smile.

Goo checks his watch with a grimaced face, "No, we're just on time. Now if you would kindly show us what you've prepared?" he leaned towards the boss.

The leader avoided eye contact with the towering man, mumbling a few words. "Huh? I can't hear you man, hold on, you do have the money right? My schedule was delayed and I've given you guys three extra days!" he made a pissed-off face, "I was gonna grab dinner after this, so let's clear up this misunderstanding. Fast."

This doesn't usually happen frequently, the sum isn't even that difficult to make. Unless if you're not good with money, but then why would you make a gang?

Do I just have bad luck, still I'm glad I'm not wearing anything too expensive. The crew didn't look too pleased with Goo's statement, one by one they begin taking out their weapons.

"Princess, behind you~"

You sighed while murmuring some curses, lifting your arm and slamming back your clenched fist, whacking the guy's nose. Why am I always the option for a hostage? Sighing even more, you asked, "You want help?"

"Yes please cutie, but if you keep sighing like that, you'll get shorter!" The audacity of this man to insult you while fighting off people like it's such a daily thing.

Upon his mockery, you decided to just not help, walking away from the scene and ignoring his whining apologies. Instead, approaching the boss on the side, flinching when he felt your firm grip on his shoulders. What a pussy, you thought, is he shorter than me?

"Don't come near me! Guards, hey!" he shrieks, earning a loud snicker from you. "You call yourself the boss? Hey, look at me. Your guards aren't coming ok? You'll have to deal with me."

You grinned, one that sends chills down his spine, making him back off into a corner. Goo should be done soon, even if he isn't, he's gonna rush. Just to see the daunting expression on your face when you finished your job.

Then at the end of the day, he'll award you for your hard work. Even taking a nice short stroll with you, treating you some ice cream. Things like this are what makes work tolerable, it's not far-fetched to even say enjoyable. Though you'd never admit.

And he won't stop spoiling you, not until he loses interest. But maybe, just maybe those little butterflies are also fluttering in his tummy. Somethings telling him this isn't just about interest, it's a lot more.

After all, you are his princess.

[a-singleboat]

LA Girl

Word Count: 3.5k

Request: Since requests are open, can I ask for one where Shayne Topp has secretly been dating an Alt girl (piercings, coloured hair, tattoos ect) for months and she has anxiety and is nervous about meeting the squad as she feels like they’re gonna judge her for being so different to him so Shayne introduces her to Damien first alone and Damien automatically likes her and they click really well so she tells him she’s ready to go public and meet the rest of the squad and they all accept her?❤️ - Anon

A/N: I hope you guys like this! It took me a while to conceptualize it at first but then the rest came pretty naturally :D

Warning(s): Mentions of oral sex (male receiving), swearing, mentions of sex, self deprecating thoughts

You never really liked living in Los Angeles. Most days it was too bright and there were too many people, too many tourists. Yeah, you hated living here. That is, of course, until you met Shayne. 

At first, it appeared that you and Shayne were as different as night and day. Literally. He was the perfect LA Boy, with his blonde hair and his trim physique, always looking like the sun while you… you liked your dark colors and vibrant hairstyles, not to mention your multitudes of piercings and tattoos. In the mornings that you did spend together, Shayne liked to trace them with the tips of his fingers before the day started. 

These past few months with Shayne have been euphoric, for lack of better words. It seemed you were forever stuck in your honeymoon phase together but even you knew that it couldn’t last forever. The first fight you’d have, the first disagreement, stemmed from your own insecurities. 

As you’d mentioned before, Shayne looked like the perfect LA Boy, as did the rest of his friends. He didn’t stand out while walking the length of Hollywood Boulevard and he certainly didn’t catch any of the police officer’s eyes when he went to the bank. 

Which is why you weren’t so sure you wanted to meet them, his friends that is. You were sure that they would judge you for your alternative fashion choices, just like everyone else did. 

“They’re not like that,” Shayne tried to convince you for the umpteenth time that day. You had just finished washing the dishes, using your day off to catch up on chores you’d neglected during the week. Shayne was supposed to be completing his coursework for his degree but instead he’d decided to pester you with this topic once more. 

“My friends are super supportive and they just want to meet you,” he tried again. “And if they say anything then they’re not really my friends. They’ll love you, I promise.”

You picked up the laundry basket full of clean clothes from beside your front door, dumping the basket out on the couch. You cleared off a small section on the coffee table so that you could fold your laundry. 

“I’m just worried,” you confessed, folding a cropped shirt in half twice before dropping it into the laundry basket. “You say that they’re supportive and that they just want to meet me but you also just said, ‘if they say anything.’ Shayne, if I really didn’t have a reason to worry, you wouldn’t have thrown that in there.” 

“Okay, that was my bad,” he admitted, “but I’m serious. You have nothing to worry about, they’ll all love you.”

You gave him a weary look, folding a pair of black cargo pants over your arm. A few weeks ago, you’d met Shayne’s parents and while they were two of the most loving and welcoming people you had met, you could still see the discomfort and unease hidden behind their eyes. They expected someone different, with less tattoos and piercings most likely. They probably weren’t expecting their blonde baby boy to be with a neon-pink-haired twenty-something with daddy issues galore. 

“Okay, how about this,” Shayne took the pants from your hands, folding them and setting them onto the coffee table. “I’ll invite Damien over to mine for dinner tonight as a tester. If everything goes well with him, then maybe you’ll consider meeting everyone else?”

You took up your cargo pants once more, settling them in the laundry basket with the rest of your folded clothing. You had less than half the original pile left, the rest of the clothing being mainly bras and socks that still needed to be sorted. 

“Okay,” you gave in. What was the worst that could happen?

As it turns out, completely forgetting that Damien was due to arrive any moment at Shayne’s apartment was the worst thing that could happen. His best friend’s first impression of you would forever be this: you on your knees with Shayne’s dick halfway down your throat while you gave him a before-dinner blowjob. 

Embarrassment burned through your entire being as Damien realized what was happening before he closed the front door and called out, “I’m so sorry, I should have knocked!” 

You looked up at Shayne who couldn’t decide between being mortified and being smug. It took everything within your power not to punch him in the dick, considering it was literally right there in front of you. 

“Go… take care of yourself,” you awkwardly chuckled, patting his thigh lightly. “I’ll let your friend in and hopefully not die from embarrassment on the way.” 

Shayne scrambled up off the couch and into his bathroom while you opened the container of mints you kept under the coffee table for these types of instances. Not that you and Shayne expected people to walk in during any of that normally. You washed your hands at the sink while you chewed the mint, giving yourself a moment to breathe before even thinking about opening the door.

Once you’d calmed down enough, you opened the door for Damien, unable to meet his eye as you let him in. 

“Uh, sorry you had to see any of that…” You closed the door behind him, double checking the lock to make sure it was still working. “We don’t usually do it out here, um--”

“You don’t need to explain yourself,” Damien tried to save the night. “It’s not like I haven’t seen Shayne’s dick before--I mean--Not in the way you’d think--”

The two of you dissolved into laughter, still thinking of a way to dig your way out of the hole you’d awkwardly made. When Shayne was telling you about Damien, he did mention that he was possibly the most awkward of his friends which made him the perfect ‘test monkey’ for the night. 

“I should’ve knocked,” Damien settled, an apologetic look on his face. “Shayne gave me a key a while back and I usually just let myself in but that’s really no excuse. I’m sorry.”

Shayne had also mentioned Damien was the most polite out of them all. Not that the others weren’t polite, because they were. He had meant it in the way that Damien would apologize for existing if he could (which he has done before). 

“It’s okay, really. Though, we might have to tweak the story of how we met for future conversations.” You made your way into Shayne’s little kitchenette. “Do you want anything to drink?”

“Water is fine,” Damien said, moving to sit in one of the chairs at the high table. You grimaced at the couch, making a mental note to grab some disinfectant once Shayne came out of the bathroom. “And yeah, we’ll just leave that part out for future retellings.”

You pulled a glass from one of the cabinets, filling it with water from the Brita. You added a few ice cubes as well, smiling as they clinked against the sides of the glass. 

“So, how did you and Shayne meet?” Damien asked, thanking you for the glass. You took up the other seat, crossing your right leg over your left. 

“At the tattoo shop I work at, actually,” you played with the end of your belt, twisting the fabric over your hand until it covered your knuckles. For this meeting, you’d decided to tone down your wardrobe--less chains and more softer fabrics. Your pleated skirt had been exchanged for the black cargo pants you’d folded earlier. That paired with a simple side release buckle belt and a structured white top for contrast, this was probably the most “tame” you’ve dressed in a while. 

“He came in with another friend of his, Paul, and sat with him while I worked on a piece for his sleeve. After that, I gave him my number in case he ever wanted to get a tattoo himself and the rest is history.”

“I can’t believe Paul technically met you before I did,” Damien said in disbelief. You heard the toilet flush and the sink turn on which meant your boyfriend would be joining the two of you soon. 

The awkwardness between you and Damien had faded slightly but you could still feel the tension in the air. Shayne opened the bathroom door and you looked over your shoulder to watch as your no longer disheveled boyfriend entered the room. He’d changed his pants, which was fair, and he was holding the disinfectant in hand as if he’d read your mind. 

You hopped off the seat and took it from him, spraying down the entire couch while he greeted his friend. 

“Really sorry you had to see that,” Shayne said, laughing as they clapped their hands together. “We would have disinfected the couch either way, just so you know.” 

Damien laughed as you finished cleaning off the couch, setting the disinfectant on the coffee table. You couldn’t be bothered with putting it away in the bathroom right now. 

“Well, this is Y/n, my girlfriend,” Shayne pulled on your arm until you settled into his side. You gave a small wave. “And she made Italian for dinner so unless you now want nothing to do with me, we can start eating now.” 

“Sounds great.”

Once you actually got over the initial awkwardness, your night actually turned out enjoyable. Damien was extremely funny and nice, just like Shayne had said. He’d even asked about your job and your own tattoos, expressing his own thoughts about getting one or two done himself. 

“If you get it done at my shop, I can get you a discount,” you offered, taking a sip of your water. “Friends and family get twenty-percent off, though that doesn’t include the tip.” 

“Really?” Damien asked. He looked shocked that you’d even offer to tattoo him, let alone provide him with a discount. 

“Yeah,” you grinned. “Just let me know when and we can set up an appointment.” 

“That’d be amazing.”

The three of you were sitting on the couch now, you and Shayne sitting on the side closest to the window while Damien was on the other end. His body was angled toward the two of you as “The Office” played quietly in the background. 

“Does this mean I’ll be seeing you around more?” Damien asked. “Shayne always comes alone to out-of-work get-togethers and Courtney’s been pestering him to bring you around for some time now.”

“She has?” you looked up at Shayne, asking if that was true. 

He nodded. “Why do you think I’ve been so insistent on getting you to meet my friends? They all want to meet you.”

“It doesn’t help that you’re all he talks about,” Damien chuckled. “I swear, every other word from his mouth is something about you. Whether it’s wondering what you’re doing to wondering how you’re doing, it’s always about you.” 

You reached up and patted Shayne’s cheek lightly. “Aw, babe. You think about me? How embarrassing.”

  He swatted your hand away, chuckling as you giggled at the shared joke between you. 

You talked for a little longer, sharing stories between the three of you before Damien caught sight of the time. 

“I should get going,” he said, standing up. You got up as well, giving him a hug before letting him and Shayne say their goodbyes. Once Damien had left the apartment completely, you released a breath you didn’t know you were holding in, you shoulder relaxing. While Shayne was an extrovert, you found yourself physically and mentally drained from hanging out with just one person. 

The entire experience was new for you. Since you’d started dressing how you wanted to dress and expressing yourself accordingly, there have been people less than willing to be nice to you or show you any sort of kindness. It was mostly linked to the fact that people thought that if you wore black, put on lots of make-up, had piercings, and had tattoos you were a bad person and an even worse role model. Not only was that hurtful, it made you very self conscious about meeting new people. 

“That wasn’t so bad,” Shayne said, pulling you in for a hug. You sunk into his arms, wrapping your own arms around his torso. 

“It wasn’t terrible,” you replied, your words muffled by the fabric of his shirt. You turned your head sideways so that you could hear his steady heartbeat, allowing it to lull you into what felt like security. “Though, the beginning could have been better.” 

“We’re never speaking of the beginning again.”

“Agreed.”

Shayne started to sway with you in his arms, pressing a kiss to the top of your head before letting go. “So how do you feel about going to brunch with the rest of my friends on Saturday?”

After meeting Damien, your anxiety had subsided. No longer did you think you would be judged for the type of clothes you chose to wear but this time the anxiety of meeting so many people at once surfaced. When you didn’t respond, he looked down at you worried. 

“Tell me what’s wrong.” 

“I just…” If you said what you were thinking out loud, you knew you were going to sound ridiculous. “It’s nothing.”

“No, really,” he frowned, “tell me what’s wrong. Bottling it all up inside won’t work this time.” 

You sighed. “I--Shayne, you’re perfect, you know that?” 

“I wouldn’t say perfect but…” You dug your fingers into his side, causing him to laugh. “Baby, what’s wrong?”

“It’s just that you’re the perfect LA Boy and I look nothing like the perfect LA Girl that you so clearly deserve. I mean, Damien was nice but that’s literally just how he is. What if your other friends think I’m, like, a terrible influence on you with my millions of piercings and tattoos and attention-seeking hair and--”

He cut you off with his lips, arms pulling you in impossibly closer and effectively stopping you in your tracks. 

When he pulled away, you fixed him with a playful glare. “Shayne Robert Topp, you did not just pull a movie cliche on me while I was airing out all my concerns to you. Apologize right now.” 

“I’m sorry,” he said, pressing another kiss to the top of your head. “But, Y/n, you don’t need to be the ‘perfect LA Girl,’ you’re perfect the way you are. That doesn’t mean I’d like you any less if you decided that you did want to become whatever you think is the ‘perfect LA Girl’ because I’d like you no matter what. I just like you.”

“Even if I went bald?”

“Even if you went bald.” 

You’ve said it once and you’ll say it again: you fucking loved this man. 

“I love you,” you said, pouting your bottom lip. You felt the tears prick at the corners of your eyes as you looked up at him in adoration. 

“I love you, too.” 

By the time Saturday rolled around, you were ready to meet the rest of Shayne’s friends. Most of your anxieties had been successfully quelled, though they still lingered. You had gotten your hair done again the day before, meaning you were now sporting a bright neon green. You matched your makeup to your vibrant new dye and picked out a heat-appropriate outfit. 

“Are you ready to go?” Shayne called from your front room, interrupting your self-admiration session. You gave yourself one last look in the full-length mirror in your room before slipping on the pair of DnD dice filled platform shoes that added at least three inches to your height. 

“Ready.” You stopped to pose in the doorway, the bottom of your shirt riding up as you leaned against the wooded frame. “Baby, how do I look?” 

Shayne looked up from his phone, his jaw dropping the second he laid eyes on you. A blush settled nicely onto your cheeks, as you grew shy under his gaze. He dropped his phone on the couch and crossed the room in three long strides. He pulled you in by the waist, pressing a kiss to your lips. You melted into his touch, a giddy feeling spreading through your being as your arms looped around his neck, bringing him closer. 

“You look amazing,” he breathed, pulling away. You giggled as you realized that a bit of your black lipstick had transferred off onto his lip. You reached up and wiped his top lip with your thumb. 

“Thank you,” you giggled, rubbing your fingers together until the black rubbed off. “What time did your friends say?”

“We’ve got some time…” his fingers crept up your side, dipping under your shirt and tracing the band of your bra with his thumb. 

You smacked his hand. “Naughty boy.”

You didn’t end up leaving the apartment for another thirty minutes, though you couldn’t complain about it. Still, you ended up making it on time. From where you’d parked on the street, you could see Shayne’s friends spread across two connected tables, laughing on the patio. 

Damien was the first to spot the two of you, standing from his seat and calling out, inviting you into the sectioned off area. You took up residence in the seat closest to him, leaving Shayne to take the seat on your other side. 

“You guys, this is my girlfriend, Y/n,” Shayne introduced you to everyone at the table. There were nine other people sitting at the table. You recognized maybe six of them from the videos you’d watched, while the other three were most likely spouses (considering how close they were sitting next to who you assumed were their significant others). 

“Hi, Y/n!” the blonde sitting next to Damien greeted. You recognized her immediately as the inspiration for Shayne’s alter ego, Courtney Freaking Miller. 

You smiled politely as everyone went around introducing themselves to you, from Olivia and Sam to Sarah and Claudio, you didn’t feel out of place for one second. The hand that had been tightly intertwined with Shayne’s relaxed as you grew even more comfortable around his friends. 

“So Damien told us that you worked at a tattoo parlor,” Ian inquired, propping an arm up on the table and resting his chin in the palm of his hand. On his left sat Anthony, who also looked interested in your answer. “And Shayne did, too, I guess. Did Damien tell you that your boyfriend literally never stops talking about you?”

You giggled. “He did tell me that and I find it adorable that he can’t go a second without missing me.” 

“I wish Peter was like that,” the purple haired woman, Mari, complained playfully, nudging her husband’s side. Peter just laughed it off, casually putting his arm around her shoulders. 

“You do not,” he refuted. “You get flustered when I even mention you to my friends.”

She huffed, though there were no traces of anger to be found on her face. “It’s the sentiment that counts.”

Courtney put her menu down, reaching over to grab her glass of water. “I’ve always wanted to get a tattoo. Y/n, yours are so pretty.”

You felt the heat rise to your cheeks at the compliment. “Thank you! I actually did most of them myself.” 

Courtney’s eyes widened at that. She reached over Damien, who had leaned far back enough in his seat to allow her to do that. She motioned at your sleeve, specifically at the roses that decorated the back of your forearm. They were cliche and most likely overused but you just thought they were pretty. 

“Those? You did those yourself?”

“Yeah!” you said enthusiastically. You offered your arm out, allowing her to take a closer look. “My friend, Alyssa, designed it for me and as soon as I was trusted to wield an actual tattoo gun, it was the first piece I worked on.”

“That’s insanely cool,” she gushed, tracing a finger over one of the larger roses. “And you’re insanely talented.”

“Thank you!”

For some reason, Courtney was originally your biggest concern. Most of the insecurity had sprouted from the constant online presence of the ship Shourtney, which Shayne assured you was nothing but a meme. And you trusted your boyfriend, and though you didn’t know Courtney, you trusted her too. But sitting here, at the same brunch spot as her, sharing the same meal as she was, all your fears washed away. 

It was incredibly difficult not to like her. Not only was she extremely nice, but insanely pretty as well. Though you had to accredit most of your confidence to Shayne, who only had eyes for you despite everything else. You’d thought that you would find yourself vying for his attention in front of everyone but not once did he leave you to flounder. He was always there, ready to step into any conversation you were having. 

When you’d all finished your meals and began to wrap up the late morning, you couldn’t help but show your gratitude for your amazing boyfriend by pressing a huge kiss to his cheek, whispering that you loved him while everyone had grown content in their own little conversations with each other. 

Content, he grinned and his arm around your shoulders tightened just that much more as he used his free hand to tilt your face up towards him. He pressed a kiss to your lips, keeping it short and sweet, before pulling away and whispering, “I love you, too.” 

TAGLIST

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[sachigram]

With Teeth Chapter 4

((click here to read on ao3!))

The next few days pass by normally for Shizuo. He's been making more of an effort to be social, doesn't want to make his friends feel left out of his life. He could see how it hurt them before when he pushed them away. As a result, he has more things to do, and he feels better than he has in ages.

Tonight, he's sitting across from Tom, next to Vorona. They're all having drinks to celebrate a successful week at work, and Shizuo is looking forward to the weekend. He doesn't have any plans on his off days, but he likes not having to worry about tracking down some low-life, even if he's only free of it two days a week.

“Any plans this weekend?” Tom asks them both. He's flushed, clearly tipsy already. Shizuo has a high tolerance, and he's pretty sure Vorona does too, because she's drinking faster than either of them, and she seems perfectly sober.

“Negative,” Vorona replies while Shizuo merely shakes his head. “I may go to the bookstore tomorrow.”

“Your checks all go to books,” Tom says. “You should live a little.”

“To acquire knowledge is life's goal.”

Tom looks from her to Shizuo and raises his eyebrows. Immediately, Shizuo feels like Tom is about to do something stupid.

“Why don't the two of you hang out together? Since neither of you have plans.” Tom sips his drink, a smug look of satisfaction on his face. Shizuo's blood boils.

“I—“ he starts, but is interrupted when Vorona speaks.

“That would be nice.”

“Huh?” Shizuo asks, turning to face her. She's looking at him with her usual indifferent gaze, not the least bit affronted by the idea.

“If it would be agreeable for Shizuo-senpai, I see no reason we cannot meet tomorrow,” Vorona says, and she tosses back the rest of her drink. It's straight gin, no mixer, no rocks, but she doesn't even flinch. Just the smell of it has been burning Shizuo's nose.

“Oh, um. If you want to,” Shizuo says, unsure of what's even happening.

“So it's a date then,” Tom announces, and he goes to get them all more drinks.

***

“You shouldn't have done that,” Shizuo grumbles later, after Vorona has split away from them to go catch her train. “You made her feel like she had to agree.”

“Shizuo, come on, man. How do you miss the way she looks at you? She's had a thing for you since she started working with us.” Tom is stumbling a bit as he walks, and Shizuo considers letting him face-plant if he falls.

“She does not. And even if she did, what the hell am I supposed to do about it?”

Tom looks up at Shizuo, giving him such an incredulous look that it's almost reminisce of the way the flea looks at him.

“What are you supposed to do about it?” Tom repeats, and then he laughs. “Oh, my god. You're killing me.”

“Shut up, you know what I mean. I'm not someone that anyone should have a thing for. I'm dangerous, and it's only gotten worse.” Shizuo looks up at the sky, sees the lights of airplanes flying overhead. “I don't want to hurt her.”

“You don't hurt people who don't deserve it,” Tom replies, and Shizuo thinks of that strange dream he had before, the one where Izaya was there, seeing his worst memory. “Give yourself some credit, would you? Have fun. Try to be happy.”

“I am trying. This is a bad idea.”

“Well, too late now. If you stand her up, you really will be an asshole,” Tom says, and then he falls on his face. Shizuo makes no move to help him up.

Shizuo doesn't sleep that night. He's too anxious about his “date” with Vorona, has no idea what they'll do or what they'll talk about. He's tried before to think of himself as the kind of guy who would be lucky enough to have a pretty girl on his arm, but it's always too much of a fantasy, something unattainable and pointless to hope for. Vorona is strong, and she's seen him fight, knows what he's capable of, but it's different to behold someone dangerous from the sidelines and then up close, when it's turned on you. He imagines her look of indifference changing to real fear when he lunges at her, and he doesn't realize until he's waking up that he actually managed to slip into unconsciousness.

“Fuck.” He gets up from the bed, moving to the bathroom to splash cold water on his face. He's terrified of what will come, of what he is. More than anything, he's sick of being so terrified. His reflection is older, maybe wiser, but all Shizuo can see is that same snotty kid who hurt someone he wanted to protect once.

***

He meets Vorona at the train station. She's dressed the same as she always is, and he's grateful she didn't do anything different in her routine for his sake. She lifts a hand in greeting, studying his face.

“You appear tired,” she says.

“Yeah. Didn't sleep well last night. Sorry.”

“No apology necessary. Perhaps we could get coffee first, both wake up a little more.”

As it turns out, following Vorona around isn't too different from trailing after Tom. She doesn't talk nearly as much, but she doesn't seem to mind taking the lead, and she doesn't take his silence as disinterest. They wind up going to the bookstore Vorona mentioned, grabbing coffee from a little kiosk outside before wandering the aisles. Vorona picks up a book every now and then, explains it to Shizuo in a way he can understand without being pretentious about it, and he finds that he's actually enjoying himself.

After Vorona purchases some new books, they make their way down the street to a restaurant she says she's been wanting to try. This is the part Shizuo was worried about, having to sit alone with her and have her realize he's got absolutely nothing interesting to say, but they manage to keep the conversation going. It's easier than Shizuo expected, and he finds himself thinking he should thank Tom later for setting this up.

“You seem happier than before,” Vorona says when they're walking out of the restaurant. “You were so quiet for so long.”

Shizuo opens his mouth to ask what she means, but he thinks he knows. He was feeling sorry for himself after the bite, wanted to keep everyone out, pushed them away. He is happier now than he was then, but he's still a coward, and he's still scared of anyone learning his secret.

“I'm better now,” he says, feeling that it's true.

“I am very glad,” she replies, and she gives him a rare smile.

That night, as Shizuo walks home after escorting Vorona to the train station, he feels his phone vibrating in his pocket.

“Yo,” he says, picking up the call.

“How did it go?”  Tom asks.

“It was...nice,” Shizuo says. He can practically feel Tom's frustrations through the phone.

“Nice? That's not telling me anything!”

“We had a good time. It was much better than I thought it would be.”

“I guess that's all I'm going to get from you. Either way, I'm glad. I think you'll both be good for each other.”

“Yeah,” Shizuo replies. For the first time in his life, he can picture a girl on his arm. “Me too.”

***

The days that follow are slow, but enjoyable. Shizuo goes to work, hangs out with Tom and Vorona, makes plans to spend time with Vorona again on the upcoming weekend. He's almost able to forget all about his ailment, and the bullshit alliance he has with Izaya, who has been silent since storming out of his place the morning after the full moon. Shizuo will have to see him soon so he can stock back up on his potion, and he's not looking forward to it. Part of him worries what Izaya might do if he learns Shizuo is dating Vorona. Izaya wants to ruin every good thing in Shizuo's life. There's no way he wouldn't interfere.

Still, Shizuo is enjoying his period of peace. He's able to sidestep his involuntary entanglement with the other world, with Izaya. He's enjoying feeling like himself again, whoever that may be.

Friday night, before his date with Vorona on Saturday, he's able to find sleep easily, but it doesn't feel like sleeping. He closes his eyes in his room, opens them somewhere else. He hears the sounds of crying, of screaming, and while he should move away from it, he finds himself moving closer. There's a familiar scene before him, one of himself standing in front of a small boy cowering in a corner while two toddlers scream in their cribs. It feels like he's been here before, but he can't place why, not until the small boy looks up at him.

“Izaya,” Shizuo breathes. He doesn't know his own age here, but he can see how small Izaya is, how scared. It's unsettling. Shizuo has never seen fear on Izaya's face before.

“Who are you?” Izaya asks him, looking up at him with wonder.

“You don't know me?” Shizuo asks in disbelief. Izaya has his webs of deceit stretched over everything, over everyone, so time and space probably mean nothing to him either. But when Izaya shakes his head, Shizuo finds he instantly believes him.

“Am I dreaming?” Izaya looks around. “Are you a vision? You're not a ghost, right?”

“No,” Shizuo says. “I'm dreaming. I don't know what the fuck you're doing. You're a witch, right? You've gotta be the one doing something.”

Izaya flinches at the word “witch”, and he looks nervously around himself before looking back up at Shizuo.

“Stop looking at me like that,” Shizuo snaps, and Izaya flinches even more. Shizuo feels concern for the kid in front of him, even knowing who he is, or at least who he'll grow up to be. Is this real? It's not real; it can't be real. It's a dream, one of those lucid dreams he's heard about. He'll ask Shinra about it later.

“Your mind is loud,” Izaya says, and he stands up, padding across the floor to stand in front of Shizuo. How is the flea so tall? He's a small kid, can't be more than twelve if the twins are still toddlers, but Shizuo is looking in Izaya's eyes. Izaya snorts, amused. “I'm not tall. You're the same height as me.”

Shizuo looks down at himself, realizes he's a kid here, too, but with all his memories of the future. He looks back at Izaya, dubious of him, and the amusement drains from Izaya's face.

“You really don't like me,” Izaya says, and he fidgets.

“You ruined my life,” Shizuo spits. “Or you will, anyway.”

“Oh.” Izaya's voice is small. “I've sensed terrible things to come in the future. Things for myself, especially, but I don't know how to stop any of it. I don't think it can be stopped.”

“The future is shitty already, but you make it worse. You enjoy making people suffer. The Izaya I know is—“ Shizuo stops himself, realizes he was yelling. Izaya seems terrified of him, but also curious, his eyes shining even in the darkness of the room.

“You're the realest vision I've ever had,” Izaya says. “I hope I remember you. I forget them sometimes when they're over.” The lights of the room begin flickering on and off, and Izaya puts his hands over his ears. “Go away!” he shouts towards the corner of the room.

“What's happening? Who's doing this?” Shizuo asks, feeling like he should protect this child version of his greatest enemy. The Izaya before him is just a kid, and Shizuo doesn't know how or why, but he can feel how incredibly lonely Izaya is.

“A ghost,” Izaya replies, and he narrows his eyes at Shizuo as if daring him to argue. “I see them all the time, and they want me to help them, but I don't know how. They won't listen to me when I say that.”

“Where are your parents?”

Izaya shrugs, and Shizuo feels rage boiling inside him. He remembers hearing from Shinra once that Izaya's parents were never around, that Izaya raised the twins practically on his own. Mairu and Kururi are weird, certainly, and Shizuo isn't fond of the idea of letting them anywhere near his own brother, but he think they're good kids, all things considered, especially if this is how they were raised.

“My grandparents are around,” Izaya says, seeming to read Shizuo's thoughts. “Or, they will be tomorrow. They already came by today to bring food.”

“That's so fucked up,” Shizuo blurts, and to his surprise, Izaya smiles.

“My parents aren't bad people. They're incredibly busy, and they weren't expecting to have more kids.” Izaya looks to the the twins, who are watching him, still warbling even though the lights have stopped flickering for now. Their little hands are reaching towards him through the bars of their cribs. “As for my grandparents, they're not in great health. They can't do much to help aside from cooking and checking in every now and then.”

“Sounds like a lot of excuses,” Shizuo says, thinking of his own family. His mother never even wanted to leave their family overnight, much less weeks, months at a time. Izaya shrugs again.

“Maybe so. It doesn't matter much to me anymore. They never listened to me even when they were here.” Izaya studies Shizuo for a moment. “Your mind is—“

“Loud, yeah. You keep saying that.”

“It's more than that! It's like static and whirlwind mixed together. I can feel you wanting me out of your head, but you keep letting me back in, pulling me in, really. It's like you want me to hear you.”

“I don't,” Shizuo says flatly. “How are you doing any of this, anyway? I'm not anywhere near you in the present right now. Why are we sharing the same dream?”

“How should I know? I was born with this power, but I don't know how to use it all yet,” Izaya says, and Shizuo frowns at him, wants to bring up the future and all the terrible things Izaya will do once he does master his stupid power, but it would be pointless. This Izaya has no idea of the future, probably isn't even real. This is a dream, probably, Shizuo's brain attempting to humanize the flea.

“You called me a witch,” Izaya murmurs, more to himself than to Shizuo.

“That's what you call yourself,” Shizuo says.

“I've never had a word for it before. I just knew I was...different. People romanticize it, you know, being different from everyone else. Standing out. Maybe for a while, it was fun. But lately I'm like an island in myself, and every day the distance to the mainland grows.” Izaya pauses, as if hearing himself say so out loud is illuminating in some way. “I'm being dramatic, aren't I? I didn't mean to say any of that.”

“I know what you mean,” Shizuo finds himself saying. He doesn't elaborate, but he doesn't really have to. He can feel Izaya in his head, like a prickle on the edges of his subconscious.

“Why aren't we friends?” Izaya asks, and the question is so earnest, so innocent, that Shizuo finds himself bolting upright in his bed, jerked back into wakefulness.

“Fuck these fucking dreams,” he hisses, rolling over to check his phone. It's a little after seven in the morning, an hour before his alarm was set to go off. He's already got a message from Vorona, telling him she's looking forward to their outing.

He doesn't know why he can't get Izaya's face out of his mind.

***

Shizuo's second date with Vorona goes well.

They meet at Sunshine 60, have some drinks with their food. Conversation comes easier this time, and there's hardly any silence between them. While they walk, Shizuo finds her hand in his, and he doesn't hate it. Her hand is soft, but not too soft. She has the same callused hands he does, and it reminds him that she can take care of herself, that she can handle him, so long as he's careful to remain human around her.

He drank enough to have a little bit of a buzz going as they make their way up towards the observatory. Vorona says she hasn't seen it yet, and wants to. It reminds Shizuo that this is the sort of thing people who visit Ikebukuro find exciting, while it remains mundane to the locals. He trails after her as they walk, and he doesn't know why he notices a familiar face off to the side, outside a comic book store, but he does notice, and he stops in his tracks. Vorona looks up at him questioningly.

“What is it?” she asks.

“Hey, I'll meet you up there. I need to ask someone something really quick.”

Vorona studies him. “Affirmative. I will go on ahead.”

Shizuo watches her go for a moment, and then he turns back to the comic book store, making his way through the crowd. A redheaded man is leaning against the building, his arms crossed. He grins up at Shizuo when he notices his approach.

“Well, well. Heiwajima Shizuo. To what do I owe the pleasure?”

“I don't remember your name,” Shizuo says bluntly, and the man laughs.

“Yeah, why would you? I'm sure you've got more pressing things to manage these days. You can call me Akabayashi, if you bother to remember it.”

Shizuo recognizes him from all that shit with Akane. Akabayashi also was there with the twins that day at the dojo, Vorona's first day of work.

“You know, don't you?” Shizuo asks, keeping his voice low. Akabayashi raises an eyebrow.

“You'll have to be more specific.”

“Cut the shit. You know what I am, and you know who did it. I wanna know why.”

“Well, let's see,” Akabayashi says, scratching his chin. “As I recall, you don't keep your head down much. In fact, you've gotten involved in plenty of things you shouldn't have been. You know that already, so your pressing question really is who, isn't it?”

“I already know Izaya ordered it. I wanna know who it was that did the dirty work.” Shizuo glowers at Akabayashi, hating how amused the man seems. He's not scared of Shizuo in the least. It's refreshing, but it's also irritating.

“Don't make assumptions that we take orders from the likes of that brat. Anyway, yeah, I know who did it, and so would you, if you saw him. He's laying low for now, under orders. I can't give you a name. You understand.”

“Bullshit, I do!” Shizuo snaps, and he lifts Akabayashi up by the collar of his suit. “Give me a name, dammit! It's the least you fuckers can do after you all stood back and let me turn into this— thing!”

“This is the problem with youngsters like you. You're too emotional. It's okay, kid, I was like that before, too, but this city has a way of beating passion right out of you.” Akabayashi doesn't seems concerned at all, even as his feet dangle. In fact, he looks like he's having a blast. “You'll know in due time. A little patience would do you good.”

“It's been seven months,” Shizuo says, offended at the idea he hasn't been too patient already.

“And? What do you want, a medal?”

“You fucker—“

“They had it! They really had it!” A small, excited voice says, and Shizuo finds himself looking down into the wide eyes of Awakusu Akane. She's carrying a bag from the store, clearly over the moon about her purchase.

“I'm glad,” Akabayashi says. “You can tell me all about that story of yours while we get lunch.”

“Shizuo-san...” Akane whimpers, and Shizuo releases Akabayashi. “You're not here to fight, right?”

“I was thinking about it,” Shizuo admits, “but I decided against it.”

“I'm not ready to fight you yet!” Akane says, her voice more determined now. “But I will be! I'm trying extra hard at the dojo, and I can challenge you soon!”

“I look forward to it. Just don't work too hard, okay? Getting strong means taking it easy sometimes, too,” Shizuo says, putting a hand on her head.

“Right! I'll do my best!”

“Anything else, or can I take the little miss to our lunch date?” Akabayashi asks, and Shizuo glares at him.

“I'll ask you again later.”

“Go for it! Maybe I'll give you an answer. Maybe you could ask that information broker friend of yours, too.” Akabayashi turns on his heel, pulling Akane along with him with one hand, his cane in the other. “Or then again, steer clear of that one. He's not right in the head.”

“Bye, Shizuo-san!”

Shizuo growls after them, and then he goes to meet Vorona. Akabayashi was right; Shizuo does have more pressing things to worry about.

***

After parting ways with Vorona at the train station again, Shizuo considers going to see Shinra and asking about the dreams he's been having, but he decides he'll do it later. He had a good day, and he doesn't want Shinra dampening it with his overstepping. Especially while Shizuo has something else even more terrible to deal with.

He knocks, and it takes a few moments for the door to open. Finally, an irate brunette appears, glaring at Shizuo.

“What do you want now?” she asks, and her voice sounds accusatory, as if Shizuo is interrupting more than just her current peace.

“I'm here to see Izaya,” Shizuo says, and she rolls her eyes.

“I didn't think you were here for anything else. Come in, I guess.” She steps to the side, allowing Shizuo inside. He doesn't see Izaya anywhere.

“He left something for you,” she says, moving to the corner. She emerges with a large box in her arms, and she shuffles towards Shizuo, letting him take it from her. “He said he knew you were coming, and that he didn't want to see you.”

“Of course,” Shizuo spits, taking the box that's filled with his potions. He doesn't know why he expected to see Izaya here, why he's disappointed he didn't.

“Please tell me you didn't give him anything to use against you,” the woman says. Shizuo frowns at her.

“What was your name again?” he asks.

“Is that really relevant? I'm your mortal enemy's secretary, and I also hate him. Watching him be angry about you is one of my few joys in life.”

“That's pathetic,” Shizuo says, feeling a vindictive sort of satisfaction when her lip curls at him.

“I wasn't looking for your approval. Answer my question.”

“Where is Izaya?” Shizuo asks, bypassing her and her scrutiny.

“Does it matter? Out. I thought you'd be happy. Now answer me, dammit. What's he holding over your head? Is it worth seeing him so frequently? To my understanding, the two of you only crossed paths before by accident, and it was always antagonistic.”

“If you hate him so much, you shouldn't work for him,” Shizuo snaps, disliking her and her unwanted insight into his life. “You seem capable enough to handle yourself. What do you need him for?”

“I could ask you the same thing,” she says flatly, and he scoffs.

“Yeah? Well, I asked you first. The thing is, we both know what we're getting from him, right? And neither of us feel the need to share it with anyone else.”

“Whatever. Sue me for wondering. I won't take pity on you again.”

Shizuo is all but shoved from the apartment, the box of potion vials in his arms. He doesn't like anything about the way he feels, but he trudges home, his stomach in knots the entire way. Not seeing Izaya feels like an omen of sorts, like a harbinger of things to come.

***

He dreams later, first of nothing, and then of that same room, of the twins screaming in their cribs, and Izaya crying out in fear. It seems like the slate has been wiped clean, like this version of Izaya never spoke to any version of Shizuo. But that's accurate, isn't it? This is all pretend. It's all just a dream.

“Why do you keep coming back here?” Izaya's voice asks, and when Shizuo meets his eyes, it's the present version of Izaya. He's standing in the corner, right beside his past self, who doesn't seem to be able to see either of them now.

“I don't know,” Shizuo says. He's not a kid this time. He's towering over Izaya, but of course Izaya isn't backing down. “How are you doing this?”

“Me?” Izaya asks, incredulous. “How am I doing what? You're the one spying on my past.”

“I'm not the one with magic!” Shizuo roars. “Don't act like I'm invading your privacy, not when you're the one who's always linking us. It's not my fault that it goes both ways.”

Izaya pales, as if this thought only just occurred to him. He recovers quickly, schooling his features, turning away from Shizuo in a show of nonchalance.

“You got what you wanted from me. You got your potions, the ones that keep you so fucking tame—“

“Who are you to tell me what I want?” Shizuo interjects. “I never wanted to deal with you at all, especially so frequently. And even then, you couldn't leave well enough alone, right? You had to start haunting my dreams, too.”

When their eyes meet again, Shizuo is filled with a sudden onslaught of understanding, thoughts he knows aren't his own. Izaya isn't doing this on purpose, doesn't know how it keeps happening, doesn't like it any more than Shizuo does. Shizuo's mind is almost impossible for Izaya to pull away from, like a black hole, and even with Izaya trying to pull back, Shizuo doesn't seem to be allowing it. In fact, Shizuo is strengthening the link by being here, by interacting with Izaya's past. He's the one pulling Izaya in, like a child in desperate need of company.

“That's not true,” Shizuo growls, not appreciating Izaya's comparison. He can't help looking over to the younger version of Izaya, who is still crying pitifully. Shizuo feels the need to protect him from his future self's callous words, too, even if he can't seem to hear anything other than the twins and the ghost terrorizing them.

“In case you haven't noticed, I have been leaving you alone. I'm incredibly busy, and every time I actually manage to sleep, here you are, poking around. Snooping. Don't you have better things to do, like entertain that Matryoshka doll of yours?” Izaya asks, and Shizuo whirls back to face him, his mouth a twisted snarl of rage.

“Don't you fucking talk to me about her.”

“Don't talk to me at all. Get the fuck out!” Izaya shouts, and the door behind Shizuo opens. He's yanked backwards by an incredible force, and he falls through the doorway. He keeps falling through black nothingness, images flashing before his eyes as he does, memories he knows aren't his own. He tries to grab onto them, tries to make sense of any of them, but he can't. They're gone as soon as they appear.

Right before he hits whatever ground is below, he jerks awake, finds he's twisted himself into his sheets and managed to topple over into the floor. Cursing, he untangles himself, and he thinks back to the dream, at least, the parts of it he can remember. The image of a young, nervous Izaya talking to older men in fine suits is at the forefront of his mind.

Miles away, he knows Izaya is awake, too.

[itshalza]

The Egg Has to Go

I wrote this a while ago and it's kind of irrelevant now, but this was my headcanon of how the red banquet could have gone. Obvious canon divergence. Just Foolish having main character energy

!! Content Warning: implied drugging?, manipulation, brainwashing, zombie like imagery, mild depictions of violence, has hbomb in it (again this was written like, the week of the banquet before anything happened)

Summary: Foolish quickly realizes that the Red Banquet is not what it seems.

Foolish entered the grand hall that Bad and Ant had built for the Red Banquet. The event was beginning to be well known throughout the smp, and Foolish had accepted his invite on a whim, expecting to be able to put an end to the egg then. Oh, how he was wrong. He was running late as his duties at the temple took him a little longer than expected. But he was here now, quietly mingling with Niki and H. He absent-mindedly tightened his tie as Bad lightly tapped his silverware on his glass.

The clink of the dinnerware got everyone to quiet down and their attention on Bad. "I'd like to propose a toast. To a new era of peace on the server." He called out, raising his glass in the air. Everyone followed suit, Foolish only doing so half-heartedly as to not draw attention. The crowd in the room called out cheers before taking a drink from the glasses.

The liquid in the glass was.... strange. It was a deep red. Much.... much deeper than any wine Foolish had ever seen. Considering that, and the fact he was still suspicious of how he witnessed Bad and the others celebrate over Tommy's death, he didn't drink it. He raised the glass to his lips, tilting it to act like he was taking a sip when in reality his lips were sealed tight. He lowered the glass without a word, trying to ignore the feeling that someone was watching him.

That's when HBomb's words snapped him back to reality. "Uhh overworld to Foolish?" He said, moving to get himself in the totems field of vision.

Foolish shook his head slightly, blinking a few times. "I- what?" He asked, looking over at his 'manager.'

"What has gotten into you tonight?" Niki asked. Her tone was light, but Foolish knew there was genuine concern in her words as well.

Foolish hesitated for a moment before shrugging. "I don't know. Just have a bad feeling about tonight, I guess." He scanned the room, avoiding eye contact with anyone. He didn’t want to draw any extra attention to himself.

“Loosen up a bit, man. Tonight’s supposed to be fun, so let it be.” H said with a grin, leaning back in his seat and taking another drink from the glass.

Foolish didn’t respond to the words. He looked around again before standing up from his seat. “I’m gonna go look at the buffet, I’m starving.” He said, his tone returning to its usual lightheartedness, but it was completely fabricated. He didn’t want his friends to worry about him, but he really didn’t feel right about this whole thing. It was a little too… perfect.

He made his way up to the table lined with food, weaving through the crowd muttering short apologies as he went. He grabbed a plate and began looking over the options. He went to reach for the serving spoon for the mushroom stew before getting startled by Bad’s voice.

“So are you enjoying yourself, Foolish?” Bad said lightly. Foolish jumped slightly, letting go of the spoon and cringing at the clatter it made.

It was obvious that the friendly attitude that Bad displayed was a front. Foolish and Bad had been at each other's' throats over the Egg multiple times. The two were hardly even acquaintances. Their first interaction was rather neutral, sure, but the last couple of weeks Foolish has witnessed a turn. It wasn’t Bad’s fault of course; the Egg was only manipulating him to do its dirty work. But that didn’t mean Foolish had to like him either.

“Uh yeah! I’m doing okay, all things considered.” He said, putting up a similar front. He didn’t want Bad to suspect anything, although if Bad had come over to talk to him, he obviously knew something was up. “What would you recommend from the selection? There’s too much up here for me to decide.” He asked, a light laugh coming from him.

Bad hummed in amusement. “I’d say you made the right choice with the stew.” He mused. He watched Foolish nod and begin serving himself a helping of the stew.

“Oh Foolish, by the way, I’d love to get your opinion on the wine! You’ve been around a while so I’d assume you’d know a thing or two about good wine.” Bad asked. If Foolish hadn’t known better, he would have assumed that Bad was being genuine. Something was definitely wrong with the wine. What it was, Foolish didn’t know. But he knew one thing: he absolutely was not going to drink it.

Here’s the problem. Foolish didn’t know anything about wine. He needed a clear head while guarding the temple so he avoided alcohol as a whole. He really had no idea what to say about it, but he knew he had to come up with something quick.

He looked the demon up and down before replying. “Yeah it was good. Probably not the best I’ve ever had, but it definitely was up there. It had good… earthy undertones,” he said, hesitating slightly.

Bad hummed slightly, as if he knew that Foolish was bluffing. “I see. Well I’m glad that it’s enjoyable. It cost Ponk an arm and a leg to get the cask from a village due south. And you know, he’s already down an arm,” Bad said, giggling softly at his own joke.

Foolish laughed too, a slight hint of nervousness behind it. Foolish looked down at his dish of stew before back up at Bad. “Well, I’m gonna head back to Niki and H, I don’t want to keep them waiting.” He said sheepishly.

“I’ll see you later then, Foolish. Bad said, grinning and walking away, still laughing at his joke. Though once he was out of earshot of the totem, he grumbled lightly. “Why does he constantly have to ruin my plans?” he muttered before going to find Antfrost or Punz to ask them what they should do.

Foolish made his way back to the table, trying to mask his growing anxiety about this whole situation. Something was wrong here, and he wanted nothing more than to leave and go back to the temple.

He sat back down to hear Niki rambling about the construction of her new city. It was a noble project, but it took a lot of work for it to be functional.

“Oh by the way Niki, if you need me to come back and work on fixing up that waterfall area, just holler.” Foolish interjected.

Niki chuckled lightly. “No, no it’s fine. I’ve been working on it a bit and I think I’ve gotten it the way I want it for now.” She said.

“Plus, would you even have time with all those build projects you have going on? I have you booked for Tubbo, and Kin-”

“First of all, HBomb, you don’t have me booked for anything. Second of all, I'll always make time for my friends. You guys need help? I'm right there, okay?" Foolish said. He flashed a bright smile before taking a spoonful of the stew.

The three continued to chat about things. HBomb complained that no one had signed up for maid service in a while, Niki spoke cryptically about a trip to Snowchester she took with Phil, and Foolish rambled on about the progress of the mansion and his future plans.

The banquet hall slowly began to quiet down as the night progressed. The pair in front of him had gone through two glasses of wine and Foolish had yet to take a sip.

"Foolish, aren't you thirsty? You've barely touched your wine." Niki asked, her tone still light.

Foolish looked up from his dish. "Uh, it's just really not my favor-" his voice dying out as he finally took in his surroundings. How had he been so oblivious?

The Egg was glowing a soft red and emitting a low hum. The walls looked… well, looked like they were dripping with the wine in his glass. The room was dead quiet, eerily quiet, other than the hum of the egg that he could feel in his bones.

"Foolish, come on. Don't be silly. It's really good wine, I would know," HBomb said. The friendliness in his voice oozed with tension. His smile was too wide, too forced.

The realization hit Foolish like a ton of bricks. His eyes flicked from H's tense smile to his eyes. The bright blue was replaced with a deep, off-putting red. It was a similar color to the wine, but they looked as if they were glowing similarly to the Egg in the corner of the room.

Further observation showed that it wasn't only H. As he looked around the room, not only were everyone's eyes a monstrous red, but they were all trained on the totem's figure.

He had to leave. He had to get away. But where? The Egg was spread all around the smp. Even if he could get back to the Temple, Bad and his crew have proved they aren't scared of trespassing on Temple grounds. But the Temple was his only shot. Everywhere else was too vulnerable.

Foolish laughed nervously. "Well, I think I should be going now. I have a big day of building tomorrow. Need to be well rested, you know?" He said, standing up. He slowly began moving toward the exit.

"Foolish, please. Stay and enjoy the night with us." Bad said, standing up as well.

"Yeah, Foolish. Don't be difficult." Punz called out.

No one else in the room reacted. They only stared blankly at Foolish.

Foolish laughed lightly. A smirk coming across his features. "I think I've proven multiple times that I'm not scared of you and your Egg, Bad." He muttered.

"Maybe you should be." The demon spat back. Any false friendliness that was in his voice before was gone.

Foolish's smirk only grew. "Obviously you haven't learned anything from our past encounter. Don't be foolish, Bad." He said, his voice lacking any emotion. He wasn't angry or upset at all. If anything, his tone was just smug.

Bad just glared, and Punz seemed like he was itching to aim his crossbow and put an arrow through Foolish's chest. He didn't have much time left to figure out his escape route.

"Or perhaps I'm the foolish one… for not taking care of that pathetic Egg sooner."

In a split second decision, Foolish grabbed his trident and threw it at the Egg. Sparks of electricity spread throughout the corner of the room and into the shape in the corner of the room. The Egg let out a shrill scream, and the guests in the hall grabbed covered their ears and let out groans of pain.

Foolish took this as a chance to escape. He called back his trident, which left a sizable crack in the shell of the egg. He threw an enderpearl toward the water elevator at the edge of the room.

"GET HIM!" The Egg cried out. The horde of mind controlled puppets reacted instantly. But Foolish simply saluted the crowd before hopping into the water elevator.

Once he hit the ground, he was running. His heart was pounding in his ears as he ran through the land of the Dream SMP. He needed to get to the community portal. If he didn't travel through the Nether, there was no way he'd make it by foot. He ran through the remains of the community house before hurrying up the stairs to the portal.

An arrow, dipped in some potion, lodged itself into the obsidian of the nether portal, but Foolish was already gone. He sprinted as fast as he could while still being observant to the difficult terrain of the Nether. One wrong move could send him into the pit of lava. And it didn't make it any easier that he had a swarm of armed Eggheads behind him.

He dodged arrows left and right, some of them on fire, some of them potion tipped. He looked behind him to see Punz throw an enderpearl in his direction. Foolish grabbed his own bow, lining up the shot and shooting the enderpearl in mid air, sending Punz falling onto the netherrack below him. Foolish finally made it to the portal that led to his summer home.

Standing in the obsidian frame, he lit a block of TNT and left it on the other side of the portal, faintly hearing the explosion as he appeared on the other side of the portal, his summer home lightly glowing in the distance.

He took a moment to use his pickaxe to break the frame of the portal, just as a safety precaution. He ran to the temple, breathing hard. He didn't stop until he reached the heart of the temple. He slumped down, the cool glass of the beacon against his back.

He took a few deep breaths, hands shaking slightly. The distorted faces of his friends were stuck in the back of his mind. They tried to kill him, they…

He couldn't think like that. It wasn't their fault. It was the Egg's. He tried to push the image of his friends away as he thought about the monumental task that was just placed on his shoulders….

The Egg has to go.

[dragonoffantasyandreality]

Kamen Rider Thunderbirds Chapter 3 (Bit 1)

(Prologue)

I want to thank @janetm74 for helping me out with some parts of this chapter. (Seriously. Thank you for getting my arse out of some of the plot holes lol) Also, I thank @willow-salix once again for a little correcting :)

Anyway, one with this bit X3

-0-0-0-

It had been a busy week.  The past seven days  had been almost endless, disasters happening  all at once. Luckily most of the rescues had been small, but that didn't  mean some of the big ones hadn't  started to take their toll. Especially for Scott. 

The field commander of International Rescue was beginning to feel stressed from the countless missions.  He  had to stay in control, making sure that the people they were saving were safe, making sure that his brothers were safe. He swore he was  going to have some greys soon if it continued. 

It was all too much, he needed something to keep himself sane.

The white grand piano was sitting lonely in the corner of the lounge, beckoning for him. 

Scott could  play the piano, although not as well  as Virgil. Heck, he could even play the guitar if he felt  like it. He remembered learning music lessons from her… before she…

Before she...

The field commander promptly sat on the stool, pushing away any negative thoughts and had let them channel through his body and into his fingers. He pressed the keys, playing the good old classics that is Chopin. It had always soothed him whenever he was in this state.

“Feeling stressed, son,” Jeff asked fondly from his desk, the newspaper lowered from his face.

"Yes, dad…" he replied sadly. He could sense sympathy radiating from his father's old bluish grey eyes.

"I know, Scott… It had been a really long week," His father coaxed.

“Guess that comes from the job of saving lives constantly,” sighed Scott as he continued playing the piano.

“Indeed,” agreed the patriarch as he returned to reading the newspaper.

When Scott finished some pieces of Chopin, he closed the piano lid and sat there for a moment. The stress had eased up a little. But it wasn't enough.

What else does he need to lower his stress? Apple pie? No, he had already been full of that. Fishing? Not feeling it. Maybe beat the living heck out of his punching bag…?

Urgh!

Out of frustration, he grabbed his head and laid his elbows on the piano cover. He closed his eyes, wishing that the dreadful feeling would go away. He thought he had heard his father's silent sigh.

"Hey, Scooter? What's up?" A low yet gentle voice had called him from his side a few minutes later. The field commander opened his tired eyes and looked up to the person next to him.

"Hey, Virge…" the field commander croaked, feeling a little relieved for his brother and best friend next to him.

“You don’t look all too well,” the mechanic said worryingly, “You okay?”

“I’ll survive…” Scott lied through his teeth, but he knew that Virgil knew him well.

“Come on, Scott. You’re stressed,” his second brother had never needed to ask, he already knows how Scott feels. The eldest of the Tracy brothers sighed before giving up on the 'brave face'.

"I'm just… not feeling well, okay." he simply said.

"Well, take some time off. Take a beating out of your punching bag or something. Just don't hurt yourself." Virgil suggested.

"You start to sound like a mom." stated the field commander.

"Coming from 'Mr. Overprotective Mother hen.’" teased the mechanic with a smirk.

Scott snorted. Of course his brother would say that. It never gets old, when your little brothers would continuously tease about you being a Mother hen. It's his job as the eldest brother, no questions! He swore to protect them ever since he laid eyes on the moment they were born!

And even if they were annoying at times. This time is one of those, as the terrible two entered the lounge. Talking about...

"So~, how do they do the kick-monsters-in-the-face-till-they-explode thing?" asked Gordon as he wiggled his eyebrows

Alan laughed. "According to the reports; it was seen that they tweak something in their belts and they power up. Then, they fly-kick the living crap out the bad guys. Cool, doesn't it!?"

"Uh huh~. So their belts had something to do with their powers?" Pondered the redhead as he pretended to rub his chin.

"Brains said so." Shrugged the young astronaut.

"Urgh... Alan's talking about those bug-men, again." silently growled Scott.

"Come on Scott, give the kid some slack." Virgil coaxed, rubbing gently his hand on his older brother's shoulder.

Gordon noticed his elder brother's frowning face and he could slightly hear his growl like a disturbed beast. It looked like he was  sneering at Alan. What had his partner-in-crime do to make him so steamed off like that? He thought. When he looked back at his little brother, Alan also seemed eager to find out. With a wicked smile that had formed on his face, the cheeky aquanaut turned to Scott.

"Hey, what's up flyboy? Something's bothering you?" Gordon mockly chanted. Alan joins in, "Careful Gordon, he could lose it if you bother him," The terrible two giggled as Scott scowled at them. This was not helping the situation... at all!

“Can you fellas not-” He was about to say something when Virgil cut him off.

“Scott, just ignore them." The eldest glared at the second brother. "Please, just go out and blow some steam." He begged.

Scott looked back at his two youngest brothers as he got up from the piano stool. Thankfully, the terrible two continued with their own talking. Good. He didn't want to deal with them for now. As he passed them however, he overheard this simple line: “They are so cool that… I wish I was a Kamen Rider!” 

That’s when Scott snapped “Alan! Enough with the Kamen Riders! Even Tin-Tin is getting tired of your obsession with them!”

“I’m not obsessed!” Protested Alan as he crossed his arms and let out his iconic pout.

Meanwhile, Jeff was just staring at his boys from his desk, half-amused, half-exasperated. He let out a long sigh. He was too tired to call out his boys. 

Kids. No matter how old they are, they are still his precious kids. Even when they get old and cranky, he bet that won't stop them from tormenting each other whatever chance they get.

Speaking of his kids, there’s one in particular that he needed to check on. Jeff pressed a button on his desk. The ashtray seemingly glued to the desk lifted to reveal a microphone once again. “This is International Rescue to Thunderbird 5,” Jeff called, his baritone voice echoed his leadership, “Come in, John.”

The painting of John, that was hanging on the wall opposite of the desk along the other paintings of the bothers, was replaced by a screen where the middle child of the Tracy brothers appeared.

"Thunderbird 5 loud and clear, father!" responded John with authority.

"Hello John, how are you doing?" smiled Jeff.

"Quiet up here." his middle child replied, making the head of the Tracy family chuckle. It had been the same old answer every time.

"You don't seem to mind that." Jeff raised a brow.

"As much as I like the silence, sometimes it is killing me." admitted John.

Jeff smiled understandably. Surely it is pretty lonely up there, especially inside a high-tech ‘tincan’ in stationary orbit (as Gordon had once put it). Like the worried father that he is, Jeff had been occasionally calling John to lift away that feeling of loneliness from his middle son. He had been worried about that when he first sent John to Thunderbird 5 to keep track of the distress calls. There's a reason he was limited to monitor for a month till John switched shifts with Alan. It's vice versa with the youngest as well. But surprisingly, compared to Alan, John rarely complained.

Jeff Tracy was about to say something when his other sons suddenly appeared at his desk. "Say, John! Why won't you talk with us if it's too quiet up there?" chirped Virgil.

"It's because I can stay away from you fellas' shenanigans." deadpanned the space monitor.

"Hey, at least we're good at the "entertainment" department!" joked Gordon, making Alan went in an array of giggles as John rolled his eyes.

“By ‘entertainment’, you mean torturing your brothers for your own enjoyment.” sarcastically said John, his lips showed a hint of a smug smirk.

“Boys, I'm the one talking to John here,” called Jeff sternly, but there was a glint of amusement in his voice. The boys apologized.

"When I'm the one talking, you wait till I finish, is that clear?"

"Yes, sir," all of his boys nodded.

But the sudden beeping sounds coming from the monitor broke the atmosphere, "John? What's the situation?"

"Father, I just received an emergency call! A building in New York City has being caught in a huge inferno!" reported John.

"What happened?" Jeff asked. 

"Nobody knows for sure. From what they had reported, the fires just randomly appeared from unknown circumstances!" replied the Space Monitor.

"Alright!" nodded the patriarch, "Tell them we're on our way! Seems we need all hands up front! Thunderbirds are go!"

Virgil, Gordon and Alan nodded and off they went. Meanwhile, Scott had let out a long sigh of frustration. But that's the job. The lives were in danger and he had to go.

As he passed his father's desk, Jeff called out to him. "Once this is over, I'll give you a long, nice time off. Off you go now." And that, Scott went for his beloved Thunderbird.

"I have a really horrid feeling about this mission, Mr. Tracy." A voice strained with dread nearly startled Jeff as he saw a familiar man standing at his desk, with a tray of coffee in his hands. Where in the blazes did he come from?

"What is it, Kyrano?" the ex-astronaut asked worriedly.

The Malaysian servant shook his head ruthfully. "I don't know. There is something about it that makes my skin shiver." 

Kyrano was not wrong, Jeff somehow felt a strange feeling about the mission at hand. That fire happened so randomly and uncalled for. How? And why? Something terrible was waiting on the horizon. He dreads to find out. He could hope that nothing would go wrong.

Only Jeff Tracy could hope...

tbc...

[miraculouscontent]

have you ever writed mc! party crasher?

Do I even want to bother fixing it?

That whole obligation thing severely hampers the episode’s enjoyment value. I can’t even keep it as a “boys only” episode because I can’t get over that thing with Ivan and Kim and the fact that these other boys barely KNOW Adrien.

Like, okay, maybe it’s that Nino wants to throw a party for Adrien, but on the day he wanted to do it, the girls already had something planned. Thus, he figured, okay, the girls can have another party with Adrien another day (since Gabriel’s going to be gone the whole weekend; maybe boys on Friday, girls on Saturday, and then all of them on Sunday)? He tries to recruit some of the other guys in his class just so Adrien would have more people there for him, and while there’s some tension (Nathaniel will only go if he can bring Marc, who’s intimidated by Ivan and Kim, whereas Ivan and Kim don’t get along very well; I hate the idea that the boys have conflict when the girls don’t but I hate the idea of “boy squad and girl squad” more), they all mutually agree to go to support Adrien, at the very least to take part in a mansion party. They also invite Luka, who they know is free given that half of Kitty Section is with Marinette and Alya (Luka also met Adrien in “Captain Hardrock” which, I mean, if Marc is allowed at the party in the original for talking to Adrien once, no reason why Luka can’t come when Adrien was a temporary band member).

Meanwhile, the girls are hanging out somewhere when Marinette suggests that they call Nino and ask if he wants to join (since Nino is Alya’s boyfriend and Alya noted that she felt bad for him, as he didn’t claim to have any plans that day).

Marinette calls Nino, but Nino doesn’t answer. Nino didn’t expect the girls to call him since they were having their own day out, and now he’s worried that they’ll hate him for not saying anything about the party (which is reasonable, but he was also trying to be considerate by wanting Alya to have time with the girls, some of whom don’t know Adrien well and were meant to spend time with Alya+Marinette anyway).

Wondering if he might be hanging out with the other guys, Marinette calls them up as well, all with no response.

Nino still confiscates everyone’s phones, but admits to not telling the girls when Adrien questions him. Adrien is a little disappointed that the girls weren’t coming, which makes Nino feel bad, but Nino reassures him that the girls probably would’ve come if they hadn’t already had plans. Everyone mutually agrees not to call the girls, intending to tell them the next day when the girls could have their own party.

Meanwhile, Marinette is trying to figure out why the boys won’t answer her. Just like in canon, she deduces that they might be doing something for Adrien since Gabriel isn’t around at the moment. Alya questions if they might be having a boys party, to which Juleka decides to confirm by calling Luka.

Luka picks up, as he came to the party later and didn’t get his phone taken away. He, completely oblivious to the conflict (and probably unable to lie to his sister anyway), confirms that they’re indeed having a party for Adrien.

The girls don’t immediately presume the worst, but now they’re curious and also want Marinette to get into the party since it’s a guaranteed way to spend time with Adrien. Marinette is flustered at the idea of being the only girl at a party for Adrien, but they insist.

Cue “Mission: Make Marinette Look a Boy to Infiltrate the Boys Party (the name’s a work-in-progress, they swear)!”

I would’ve had all the girls’ infiltrate the party, but I’m gonna save the modelers some headache.

Thus, Marinette puts her fashion/design skills to work to make the “ultimate boy disguise.” The girls approve, insisting that they’ll have fun while Marinette goes off to see what’s up with the boys’ party.

Back with the boys, Master Fu shows up at Adrien’s door as his “substitute Chinese tutor,” likely having intended to talk to him about something. Gorilla lets him in, but Fu decides to sit back once he sees that Adrien’s enjoying himself at the party. He smiles, happy to see that Adrien isn’t as closed off as he was before getting the cat miraculous.

Luka, who is now in on the girls’ plan thanks to Juleka, gets Gorilla to let the disguised Marinette in. As they’re walking back inside, Adrien remembers Wayhem and considers calling him, but Nino had taken his phone and Adrien doesn’t know where it was put. By the time Luka walks in with “his friend” and everyone introduces themselves to “him” as everyone except Marc (who may be the only one besides Luka to recognize that it’s Marinette) questions their orientation, Adrien has forgotten about calling Wayhem.

Also, cue Fu trying his darndest to excuse why he’s here when Marinette notices him.

Fu still has his conversation with Kim, though it’s a bit more drawn-out as Kim goes into more detail about his reflexes and how he always wants to stay in tip-top shape. (Fu may make a comment about how Kim’s demeanor reminds him of someone.)

Adrien then converses with Marinette, who manages to break through her Adrien-induced stammering to ask him about why there are only boys at the party. Adrien explains the situation concerning the girls, which Marinette relays to the girls over text once she gets the time.

Outside, Wayhem arrives at the Agreste mansion, but Gorilla was told not to let anyone in aside from the boys who were already at the party (because Max isn’t a complete idiot and knows that would draw attention). Wayhem tries to call Adrien, but Adrien doesn’t have his phone (bonus if Nino has somehow been keeping all of the phones inside his hat). Discouraged, Wayhem gets akumatized.

The episode plays out largely as normal, excluding the fact that Fu and the miraculous holders (Marinette, Adrien, Nino, Max, and Luka) have to make a stealthy escape while Party Crasher eliminates Markov, Nathaniel, Marc, and Ivan. It’s not impossible if distractions are put into place and Party Crasher has more of a cool-down on his ability (after all, he has like, four different powers, which seems pretty darn broken).

Once Ladybug is taken down, Fu tells Chat to at least hold off Party Crasher while he’s gone (Chat isn’t capable of doing that, so Party Crasher is able to go on a bit of a rampage, but Chat manages to not get trapped), since Fu actually needs to return to his house to retrieve the miraculouses.

The boys (Nino, Max, Luka and Kim) still get their miraculous and still defeat the akuma as normal, of course. Post-battle though, we actually get to see Kim’s reaction to being a hero (and also how he reacts to needing to give the miraculous back, because he didn’t know that when he was given it).

At the end of the episode, everyone’s cleaning up and Adrien apologizes to Wayhem, admitting that he’s not used to having friends and that he so used to his bad schedule that he barely thinks about making plans with others. Wayhem forgives him, and everyone starts to leave.

Cue most of the boys gaping in horror as they walk out the gate to see the rest of the girls standing there.

The girls are a little smug, finding it a bit funny to see the boys looking afraid of them, but they promptly laugh and reassure the boys that they’re not mad, especially since Marinette told them about what was going on.

The boys (excluding Luka and Marc) look confused, glancing at each other and asking how Marinette would’ve known.

Their minds are promptly blown as Marinette reveals that she’s been disguised as a boy this whole time.

(note that I would also have a “girls with miraculouses” episode to act as a counterpart to this one; I don’t know if one will exist but just sayin’ so in case it doesn’t)

[youhaveaguineapigwhere]

The last thing Dean expected to see when he came out of the bathroom was some dude leaning over Cas at the pool table.

They had come out for a couple beers, some good music and food, not for some asshat to hit on his angel.

As he approached their table and sat down heavily, Sam looked at him like this wasn’t completely different, like it’s something he should’ve already known.

“He’s expressed his indifference to gender tons of times Dean, and it’s always seemed like that applies to the people he’s attracted to, too.” He sat back and took a sip of his beer, “I don’t know why this is so surprising to you-” Sam let out a deflated sigh as Dean got up abruptly and stormed towards the pool game, apparently not as surprised at his brother’s reaction as he initially let on.

“What’s goin on here?” Dean asked as he reached the velvet green table.

Mid thirties, light brown hair, well groomed, throughly tipsy. But he wasn’t even that cute. Cas could do better.

“He was lookin’ a little lost with the pool que, just thought I’d help.” the stranger answered with a smirk. Dean wanted to punch the smug look right off his face.

He clenched his fists, “Well you’re done helping, buddy.”

“Jeez man,” the guy said, throwing his hands up defensively and taking a step back. “I was just tryin’a show him a good time.”

“Why don’t you get lost before I show you a good time” Dean spat out.

He’s always been bad at comebacks, but he thinks he got the general message across.

“Dean!” Cas called sternly as the guy walked away.

He turned to face the angel, grabbing his trench coat by the shoulder and shaking it firmly, “What were you doing messing around with that guy Cas?”

“I was attempting... to have an enjoyable experience, Dean.” Castiel said, pulling away.

“You shouldn’t ‘a been!” Dean huffed, letting go of his coat.

“You seem to have no issues with me making advances towards women,” Cas contended coolly, raising an eyebrow.

“Yeah well,” Dean took a step back and ran a hand across his face, embarrassed, with no way to explain what he really meant, or what he meant to mean, “that’s different.”

“How?” The angel demanded. Resolve unwavering.

Dean let out a frustrated sigh. “It just is.”

He started walking back towards the bar but turned around. He’s been an asshole this far, why not keep going?

“And I mean, since when are you into guys?”

Too much emphases on the word guys, and he really shouldn’t wave his hands around like that. He was making a scene.

“Have you ever even slept with one?”

He realized he might not like the answer as Cas flushed dark red. Maybe there was things he didn’t know about the angel. White hot rage planted itself deep in his gut.

“No” Castiel admitted to the dingy wood floors, and Dean let out a breath he hadn’t know he was holding.

“Then how are you even supposed to know you like them?” He bit back quickly, before the relief became too evident on his face.

“Maybe if you left me alone I would have found that out, Dean.”

“Yeah or maybe that guy would’ve forced you into something you didn’t want to do.”

Cas paused, “you really think I would let something like that happen to me?” He took a step back and met his eyes, unbelieving.

Dean sighed and shook his head, “look I don’t know what to think Cas, but it seems to me like every time you slept with someone they were manipulating you!” He threw his hands up to start counting. “You’ve got creeper lady who found you in the woods and just decided to keep you, you’ve got the reaper who slept with you to get info on Metatron and then tortured your ass, I don’t even want to get into whatever that thing you and Kelly had cause she bore the spawn of Satan man and I don’t know what that says about character for you but for me- I mean, hell, even Meg only kissed you that once for your angel blade!”

He was an asshole, a big, giant, gaping, asshole.

Cas shook his head in disbelief, tears welling up in his eyes and his lips drawn tight with anger. He opened his mouth to say something, but it seemed there were too many words to choose from, so he settled on nothing.

This isn’t what Dean wanted, he wanted Cas to scream and yell at him, to shove him into the wall and say all the unspoken things between them, to beat the living shit out of him if he wanted to. Anything else but just standing there with a hurt look and a clenched jaw. Even a glance over to Sammy told him he had majorly, fucked up.

Cas turned around.

“Cas wait...” he called, voice immediately thick with remorse and shame, but the angel was already out the door.

When he turned back to Sam he looked pissed. Like, ‘I swear to god Dean if you don’t go out there right now I will come over there and kick your ass’ pissed.

Nothing was as easy and as hard as pushing open those double doors.

“Cas wait man I’m sorry.” Shit, it was raining outside, great. Dean attempted to shield his face, but it was about as useless as his apology.

“You know this really isn’t as romantic as it looks in the movies” he called out, as his boots slowly filled with water, and he could swear he saw the shake of laughter in Cas’ chest from behind.

“Romantic.” the angel repeated back coldly, and Dean could tell it wasn’t just the rain making his voice wet and uneven.

“Cas look man, I didn’t mean t-” he stopped himself as he laid a hand on the outside of Cas’ soaked through trench coat.

The angel turned around, the wetness of his tears mixing with the rain on his face, the pain and desperation clear in those deep blue eyes. He had never looked so broken before, and Dean knew then, the promise of “don’t ever change” had died long ago, and he had never even stopped to mourn it’s passing.

What’s happened to you Cas?

Dean fucking Winchester that’s what.

“Cas...”

“Don’t do that don’t you dare do that Dean Winchester,” a sob caught in the angel’s throat. A sob, “I gave everything for you.”

Before Dean knew it he was being shoved against a cold brick wall, not unlike many years before, Cas’ hands fisting into his coat with severity.

“Everything” he growled, “I left heaven and journeyed into hell, I betrayed my family, destroyed my home, all because I put you first.”

“Why?” Dean asked. It was an honest question. He needed to know, he wanted to know, why did an angel fall from heaven for a man who meant nothing? For someone who was closer to a piece of shit on the floor than a decent human being. And keep on falling long after it ceased to be God’s will.

Cas looked at him, and it seemed like almost pity in his eyes. you big ridiculous fool. Were the words said there.

It was fierce

The way he crashed his lips against Dean’s. Fisted his hands further in his jacket, pulled him closer, off the wall and then back down again. It was hungry, reckless, everything they hadn’t said and everything they needed to say. The way Dean’s hands came up around his neck, found the lapel of his coat and tugged, lips crashing together, wet and cold and yet so so warm, like a fire raging in the middle of a friggin’ thunderstorm.

It was poetry and rock music and honey and milkshakes shared in a burger joint and lightning when it hits water and everything in between.

Dean held the nape of Cas’ neck, stroked behind his ear and gently thumbed the rain soaked hair out of his face, bit his bottom lip before letting it go.

Cas pulled back for air, looking deep into his eyes, “does that answer your question.”

“It aswers a lot of goddamn questions Cas.” Dean chuckled breathlessly, leaned forward and rested his head on the angel’s shoulder, hands slightly shaking as they held onto him, heartbeat struggling to return to normalcy, “it answers a lot.”

Sam was smiling softly as they returned, soaking wet and holding hands. Dean nodded at his brother as he grabbed the keys, “We’re goin home Sammy. Take your time.”

Time was taken.

[xukunstellation]

Stuck || Xiao Gui

Title: Stuck Pairing: Reader x Xiao Gui Genre: EnemiestoLovers!AU + College!AU + fluff Word Count: 2397 Summary: During a game of truth or dare, you find yourself stuck in a closet with the person you hate the most: Xiao Gui. Warnings: Mentions of alcohol and claustrophobia

A/N: My first Xiao Gui fic! It’s taken me way too long to write for him. I love this little bub so much. Please continue to shower him with love and affection, ty. The request originally only asked to be an enemies to lovers au, but I put my own spin on it and made it into a college au as well (which I’m modeling after American standards bc that’s all I know lol). This is also the longest fic I’ve ever written so far on the blog, so definitely putting it all under the cut. Happy reading!

“Come on, (y/n)! Live a little!” your friend Zhou Rui begged you through the phone.

You were casually chilling in your dorm room hoping to finally get some relaxation time after a long day of classes. While you did manage to catch an hour or so to nap, your plans for peace were thrown away the moment your best friend Zhou Rui called you in order to convince you to go to this college party being held by one of his friends later tonight.

“You already know I’m not much of a party person,” you whined.

“It’s still better than whatever you choose to spend your Friday nights. You’re always cooped up in your room!”

“There’s nothing wrong with binge watching my favorite drama!”

You can virtually imagine him rolling his eyes at you. “It’s college, kid. You can afford to give up one Friday to have some fun. I’ll be there with you the entire time,” he reasoned.

Knowing how persistent he could be, you sighed in defeat. You guessed he was right. This week was packed with assignments, so you barely had any time for any kind of enjoyment. Maybe a party would be good for you.

“I don’t have anything to wear,” you grumbled.

“Good thing you have me as your best friend in the entire world,” he sung, hanging up the phone shortly after.

As soon as you ended the call, there was a knock on your door. Rolling out of your bed, you opened the door to find none other than Zhou Rui standing there with a triumphant grin. He casually waltzed into your room and straight to your closet in order to cultivate an outfit for you.

“I’m pretty sure I can come up with something that doesn’t make you look like a bum.”

“Wow, rude. Best friend in the entire world, my ass.”

“It’s all love, kid.”

In little to no time, Zhou Rui easily managed to match a couple of your clothing items to make a bomb outfit. Not that you had any doubt that he would. The male was a fashion model for a reason.

After the both of you were ready, the two of your trekked over to whatever fraternity house the party was being held. It was slightly difficult to figure out which house it was considering all of the fraternities were hosting parties to kick start the weekend. Thankfully, Zhou Rui is pretty smart so the two of you made it to the party within good time.

As you watched Zhou Rui bro hug the host of the party (a popular senior named Qin Fen who was graduating this year), you scanned around the crowded room to see if you could spot any other familiar faces. In the middle of the mass of dancing bodies, you saw Cai Xukun who you shared your 10 am class with. Not too far from him was Wang Ziyi who was DJing the music for the party. Near the alcohol table, you recognized the one chugging a beer keg as Lin Yanjun (oh god, you prayed for his liver). In the corner of the room, you spotted your good friend Zhu Xingjie and his friend Zhou Yanchen.

And that’s when you spotted the devil incarnate himself.

Wang Linkai. Better known as Xiao Gui.

He was standing behind Xingjie and Yanchen so you barely noticed he was there. Feeling eyes on him, he turned to look in your direction. The two of you made heated eye contact as you glared at each other. Then, Xiao Gui proceeded to mockingly blow you a giant kiss, smacking his lips obnoxiously loud. With a look of disgust, you pretended to catch his ‘kiss’ and overexaggeratedly smacked it on your ass, causing Xingjie and Yanchen to snicker at Xiao Gui who glared harder from the burn you gave him.

You rolled your eyes and made your way through the crowd to try and find your best friend. You spotted him chatting with his friend Qin Zimo, a classmate you’ve met a few times who you remembered as being quite sweet, so you were surprised to see him at a party like this. Apologizing to Zimo, you dragged Zhou Rui away.

“Rui! You didn’t tell me that he’d be here!” you huffed angrily.

“Tell you who would be here?” he asked in confusion.

You nudged your head sharply to the left. Zhou Rui followed the direction until he saw where Xiao Gui and his friends were standing. He groaned loudly.

“Seriously? Xiao Gui?” he looked at you unimpressed.

“Duh, who else?”

He shook his head and responded, “I didn’t know he’d be here. Just ignore him.”

“How can I ignore him when he’s over there just... just...”

“Just what?”

“Breathing!”

The male deadpanned. “You sound ridiculous, you know that? What’s the deal between you two anyway? The two of you hate each other’s guts for seemingly no reason.”

You crossed your arms over your chest, a frown pulling at your lips. “He’s the one that started it. The little prick is always finding ways to mess around with me and get on my nerves. He’s a huge jerk and I won’t stand for it,” you spat.

Zhou Rui gave you a thoughtful look and reasoned, “Why don’t you give the guy a chance? From what I heard from Xingjie, he’s actually not a bad person, so I’m not sure why he acts that way around you. I’m not saying you two have to be buddy-buddy or anything, but it would be nice to have you guys not try and kill each other every time you both are in the same room.”

“Me and Xiao Gui? Getting along?” you asked in pure disbelief. “Like that would ever happen. Not in a million years.”

At this point, Zhou Rui looked defeated, knowing that he wouldn’t be able to get through your stubborn self. Throwing an arm around you, he began leading you away to the other room. “Let’s go, grumpy cat. I think a game of truth or dare can make you feel better.”

The game was already in progress but no one seemed to care that you joined in midway. A few rounds in, you did feel slightly better as you laughed at all of the absurd things people were dared to do. Some guy had to call a Chinese take out place and ask if they served sushi. Another guy had to brag on weibo about how much his “milkshakes bring all the boys to the yard.” One girl was dared to depict a human life through interpretive dance (she was also very drunk, so it was an entire mess). 

Much to your displeasure, you noticed Xiao Gui and his crew join in the game. Luckily, he sat all the way across from where you did. You tried your best to ignore the feeling of his eyes on you. Eventually, it was your turn to play and the asker coincidentally was Zhou Rui.

“Truth or dare, (y/n)?”

You debated in your mind for a bit before replying bravely, “Dare.”

However, you regretted your choice the moment you saw the shit-eating grin that appeared on his face. 

“I dare you to be locked in a closet with Xiao Gui for the remainder of the game.”

The entire room erupted into cheers and wolf whistles at his words. Your mouth dropped open in disbelief, immediately looking towards Xiao Gui who looked a mixture between smug and pissed off. 

Vowing to get revenge on Zhou Rui later, you mentally cursed at him before stomping your way into the nearby closet that was held open, not even waiting for Xiao Gui to follow you. A minute later, the male joined you in the closet. Without a second to waste, the closet door was slammed shut along with the tiny ‘click’ signalling that you were officially locked in with your worst enemy.

Fumbling around in the dark, you hovered your hands in the air near the walls to try and see if you could find a light switch. Unfortunately, the light switch was outside of the room. Stepping to the side, you bumped into a hard chest and stumbled back a little before being caught with an arm around your waist to steady you.

“Easy there, tiger. You want to be all over me that badly?”“ Xiao Gui questioned teasingly.

“Piss off,” you snapped.

You were quick to step away from him, his arm falling to rest by his side. Carefully, you slowly backed up to a wall and slid down to the floor tiredly. You heard shuffling and guessed that Xiao Gui had done the same across from you.

“I can’t believe I’m locked in here with you,” you grumbled to yourself.

You heard him scoff, “Last time I checked you’re the main reason we’re in this shit to begin with.”

“Trust me. The last thing I would ever want to do is be stuck with you. Now shut up.”

“You were the one who started talking to me first, idiot.”

“Then, stop talking to me. This’ll go by a lot faster if we pretended like we aren’t sharing the same air.”

It was silent after that except for the sounds of drunk cheering and muted music being muffled through the thick closet door. There was light breathing coming from across from you. Looks like Xiao Gui decided to utilize his time by taking a nap. Aside from that, everything in the closet was pitch black, You couldn’t see anything at all. Neither of you had your phones (Zhou Rui made sure to take them from both of you), so you didn’t know how much time was passing and you had no idea when the game would end. 

You sat there quietly as you tried to distract the uneasiness that began to rise in your stomach. As far as you knew, you didn’t really have a fear of tight spaces. But there was something about not being able to see or move much that started to negatively affect you. Gripping your hands into fists, you pulled your knees up into a fetal position.

“Xiao Gui...?” you called out quietly. Seeing that he was asleep, he didn’t hear you at all. Mustering up your courage, you called out to him louder.

“Xiao Gui!”

The said male groaned in annoyance from being awakened. “First, you tell me to stop talking to you. Then, you proceed to wake me up to talk. What the hell do you want?” he complained.

“Do you think they’ll let us out soon?” you asked softly.

“How am I supposed to know? I’m just as clueless as you are,” he answered before continuing with a mocking tone, “Why? Is little (y/n) scared of the dark?”

“...”

“...(Y/n)?”

You refused to answer him. To tell the truth, you were indeed afraid but you didn’t want to admit it to him. He wouldn’t let you hear the end of it and you don’t need that kind of torment right now. As the silence grew louder, so did the sound of your heart beating in your ears. Your body was shaking at this point.

You almost screamed in fear when you felt movement next to you, only for you to realize midway that it was Xiao Gui who was now sitting beside you. He  proceeded to wrap his left arm around you and pull you tightly to his side. This was the closest you had ever been to him. He smelled of clean linen with a hint of citrus. It was a calming scent that put you slightly more at ease along with the comfort of feeling something warm around you.

“What are you doing?” you meekly said, not used to this kind of behavior coming from Xiao Gui of all people.

“It’s obvious that you’re afraid. I’m not going to sit around in silence and watch you have an entire breakdown,” he said. 

His voice was surprisingly soothing and low, as if he was avoiding trying to scare you any further. You felt the presence of his hand linger in front of your face for a little before gently pressing it your cheek and wiping away a stray tear from your eye. You hadn’t realized you were crying. 

You turned your head in his direction and wondered out loud, “But why? You don’t even like me.”

“I actually like you a lot.”

To say you were shocked was an understatement. Your worst enemy likes you? As in actually having feelings for you? 

“That doesn’t make any sense. Why are you always acting as if you hate my guts?” you questioned.

The darkness of the closet disguised the longing look in Xiao Gui’s eyes. “That’s a good question. I didn’t mean to be like this. When I first realized I liked you, I was completely confused as to how to deal with these feelings. I’ve never liked someone like this before. I panicked, so my reaction was to act like a jerk in order to get your attention. Unfortunately, that plan backfired on me.”

“No shit, Sherlock.”

He chuckled sadly, “Yeah, I deserved that one. When we get out of here, you can go back to ignoring me. I won’t bother you anymore now that I know you practically despise me.”

You didn’t realize it yourself but your body had subconsciously leaned on Xiao Gui’s shoulder the entire time he was talking. There was something about the gentle way that he held you and was talking to you that made you feel comfortable and most importantly... safe. In his arms, you felt safe. 

“You know... you could have just came up and talked to me. I would have given you a chance,” you stated matter-of-factly.

He seemed to think this over before replying, “Well... I’m talking to you now. Is that offer still available?”

You hummed in response, “Take me on a few dates and we’ll see from there.”

The sound of the door unlocking reached your ears, followed by the blinding colors of fluorescent lights as the door opened. There were more wolf whistles and cheering from behind Zhou Rui, who stood at the door with an I-told-you-so face. Rolling your eyes, you stood up and exited the closet with Xiao Gui’s arm slung over your shoulder. You had a feeling you’d be stuck with him for much longer than you think.

[tothemaxie]

Benched - JayTim Secret Santa

For @cinnamonskull//@jayskulll for JayTim Secret Santa I'M SO SORRY! I've had HELL with getting my tablet back up and running, and between that, hospital appointments and moving back to uni, my life has spiralled out of control. BUT - I'll do an art request for you to apologize. <3

“Tim maybe, quite possibly, might have broken a few ribs... And his collarbone... And now he's stuck on surveillance. But he's found a way to make it a little more fun...”

It started four weeks after Tim had shattered his collarbone (well, that and three ribs). Definitely one of the worse breaks he'd had to endure, but he'd made sure the other guy ended up worse (concussion from a last second swing of his bo-staff as he went down). Despite Tim's insistence he'd be fine and to full health within a week, Alfred and Bruce had shared 'That Look', and Tim had sighed - knowing in that moment that he'd be well and truly benched for at least six weeks. Apparently, Damian had understood the shared glance as well, if his spit of laughter was anything to go by.

It took Bruce two weeks to even allow Tim on surveillance from the cave, which had had the desperate vigilante going near stir crazy! Everything felt a little nicer once he was back at the computer. It meant - although he couldn't jump in - he could offer at least some assistance if someone in his family got into trouble. But (not really all that surprisingly) his family didn't really get into trouble they couldn't handle, all that much. So, there were just a lot of slow research tasks to take up his time...

That was, until he realized that watching could be fun... Specifically, watching his extremely talented, extremely hot boyfriend kick bad-guy butt to the gravel.

Tim knew almost everything technical about the way Jason fought; he had to, that's how he worked. But he'd never previously stopped to just watch it from a more... Artistic perspective. To see the precise angle his leg raised to during a roundhouse, or to hear the near-satisfied groan down the mic in his helmet that followed a really secure knockout. Tim really did want to pretend that it wasn't thigh-tremblingly hot, but there was no way to deny. Especially when he'd have to bite back a moan every time Jason acknowledged his presence, with a quick update comment, or glance into a public surveillance camera.

It was all so crazy intense to Tim that he could be watching his boyfriend like this, getting off a little on every movement, while Jason himself had no idea. It always made his breathing hitch and his boxers tight. And up until this point he really had no indication that he was a complete pervert. Maybe he wasn't? Maybe this was normal? The thrill of the forbidden... He always loved the forbidden. Jason was a testament to that.

But, all in all, his little routine worked well for him! Pretending to work on various cases for as long as possible, before having his eye caught by the way Jason threw a fucking right hook, damn. Then, quickly looping the in-cave surveillance (he would literally beg Kon to throw him into the sun if Bruce ever found out about this), and jerking off under the desk. Followed by swiftly cleaning himself up and ignoring the shame he felt next time he spent any time with Jason.

But there was a problem. Because a week in, shit started getting serious.

It began with Jason sitting in on some of Dick's little, impromptu stretch class sessions in the soft matted sparring area in the cave. Tim had just been finishing working on some DNA samples Bruce needed chasing up, and he really didn't mean to listen in... But then, he heard his name. And he was far too intrigued to go upstairs after that!

"C'mon, Jay!" Dick had laughed, and it was obvious they were just using this time to chat now (good, Tim had surmised, they never did seem to get to spend enough time together). "It's Tim! You've been with him almost a year now, d'you really think he's that close-minded about this stuff?"

"No." Jason responded almost too quickly. "If anything, Tim's too open-minded when it comes to sex!"

Past the other boys' laughter, Tim's tummy tightened with excitement and anticipation. They were talking about his sex life... And they didn't even know he could hear it all.

"Is there such a thing?" Dick teased, his tone sweet and somehow too innocent for the conversation.

"Good point!" Jason's voice was light and easy, and Tim could imagine the smug smirk that looked just way too hot on him... "But yeah... Tim's like- he's everything, in bed, y'know? God, he's just-"

And then Jason released the most primal, passionate groan Tim have ever heard from him. Tim blinked back in surprised arousal. Still, he leant closer to the wall, listening in closely.

"Okay, okay! Don't give yourself an aneurism!" Dick laughed, and Tim could just imagine Jason blushing (in that perfect way he did when he hoped no one would notice).

"Shut up!" The yelp of displeasure jumped out of Dick as Jason obviously punched him on the arm in protest to his big brother's teasing.

"Relax!" Dick forced through his laughter. "It's nice to see you two... Getting along."

"Holy shit, I know." Jason sighed happily. "Seriously, Dick, you have no idea what the kid does to me. And when he struts around the apartment in just my shirt - pretending he doesn't know I'm definitely watching - he has thighs to kill! Like seriously! His legs could literally destroy a man!"

"They probably have in the past! He gets that from me!" Dick noted proudly, but Tim was too busy just totally swooning to listen. Jason liked his legs? Despite their ongoing relationship, Tim still found it unbelievable that someone a hot at Jason could even want to take a glance at him that way. Let alone actually find him attractive!

"You're such an ass!" Jason's laughter snapped Tim from euphoric enjoyment of listening in on his brothers' private thoughts. "And I gotta get going! He's probably waiting for me!"

"Shit!" Tim hissed under his breath, ducking away from the wall and quick-shuffling to the desk. Falling against the chair slightly as his tried to sit, he jolted his sling-ed arm and yowled out in pain.

"Woah, babe!" Tim started at Jason's sudden appearance beside him. "Careful with yourself, you dingus! What are you even still doing here?"

"Oh, Umm!" Tim bit his lip, temporarily forgetting that he actually did have a genuine reason for being here. "Yes! DNA profiling! For Bruce!"

Tim threw a terrible attempt of a sincere expression over his shoulder, just in time to catch Jason and Dick's shared smirk...

-----

The second time Tim struck gold (and by gold, he meant watching in on something slightly more explicit than just Jason flipping a gun and revving a bike) came two weeks after the stretch session incident. It was Tim's final week being essentially grounded, and he'd be lying if he said he wasn't getting super restless about being benched at this point. But it hadn't been too difficult to drag his mind away from moping when he caught sight of Jason's patrol route that evening.

His boyfriend really seemed to be enjoying his night out in Gotham. Every move he made was somehow even more smooth and clean than usual, and Tim could tell from the satisfied laughter that punctuated eat hit that Jason knew it, too.

Tim was entranced, totally spellbound by Jason's pleasure in his own skill. The smugness in his body language made Tim shiver with a sense of sensual familiarity. It was the same sort of smug as that that was in the smirks Jason would throw him when they'd fool around and Jason just knew whatever he was doing was getting to Tim. It was Tim's favourite kind of smugness...

But just as Tim was getting to enjoy himself - like, really enjoy himself - watching Jason take on three gang thugs at once, it was suddenly all over, and Jay had them all easily taken out. Tim pouted a little at this, disappointed that the show he'd been enjoying so very much had apparently ended, and moved to switch screens, maybe replay the last few minutes just to finish getting off to...

But then he noticed the urgency in Jason's step as he slipped out of view of the camera Tim was currently working from, into a shadowed alleyway, and Tim quickly snapped his feed to Jason's in-helmet surveillance.

Jason had his head tipped back, looking up at the night sky, the camera stable enough that Tim could figure out he was obviously lent back against a wall. It was then that Tim noticed the heavy breathing coming from Jason's mic.

Suddenly concerned his partner might be hurt, Tim grabbed frantically for the earpiece mic he'd earlier shut off and shoved across the desk. Clumsily fumbling the buttons, he opened his mouth to desperately demand Red Hood's status when he was cut off but the lewdest moan he'd ever heard Jason make.

He dropped the mic and stared at the screens in front of him, more - now explicitly sexual - groans following the first. His cheeks flushed a dark pink as he frantically searched for any nearby shops or buildings that had any CCTV he could get into nearby. Within a minute, he was messily typing in code to take ownership of a camera that he could turn directly to Jason's position and-

He fell back into his chair heavily, eyes wide and jaw hanging open. No fucking way was he this lucky. No. Way. He flicked the keyboard to zoom in - to be certain. And - yes - that was definitely Jason Todd palming his cock through his uniform, halfway down a dingy alley. Tim Drake had to be dead, 'cause this was heaven.

Tim returned his own hand to his cock at this sight, though he was totally unsure of how he could last very long at this rate. He was drowning in the sounds of Jason's pretty gasps and moans as it was, but the moment Jason cautiously flicked his head from side to side to check nobody could see him, Tim was gone. Far too surrounded by the satisfaction of getting this private show to last any longer...

-----

Tim felt a little sentimental on his last night stuck in the cave. He spent the evening spinning on his chair, watching the tiny figures hop across the monitor screens, and somehow managing not to get turned on by every little movement Jason Todd made. He knew he'd was set to go back on patrol tomorrow, so he was really making the most of getting to play Oracle one last time. Despite how easily he'd gotten distracted recently, and how frustrating it was to be grounded, he really did enjoy the 'clever-guy surveillance job'. And so, he totally revelled in his last night on the job, feeling suitably like Q from the James Bond films he'd watch with Dick on the weekends.

All in all, it was a clean, successful evening in Gotham - perfectly mundane, by all accounts (and maybe he was a little disappointed at that). And every was back in the cave, safe, fairly early that night (bar Jason, who chose instead to go straight home and skip Bruce's compulsory, post-patrol briefing), Bruce subtly ruffling Tim's hair and telling him to get to bed, before they all left him alone to shut off the monitors.

As usual when Jason bailed pre-briefing, Tim set to checking the surveillance in he and Jason’s go-to safe house to ensure he got home alright. Mindlessly clicking through the cameras in each room searching for Jay’s presence, Tim considered whether he’d bother to pop across tonight. Jason would probably be tired after patrol and he really wasn’t sure if it was worth it. And then he was checking Jason’s bedroom and choking on his coffee. Because – he noted as he, once more, wondered how in hell he got this lucky – Jason was totally lay back on his bed; half undressed; one hand balled up in the spare cape Tim had left in the safe house, pushed to his lip; the other moving tight and fast around his cock.

Tim outwardly gasped at the sight, as he whipped his head around to check everyone was definitely out of the cave, before settling his wide eyes back on the screen. Slipping his head set on, he flicked up the volume and settled back into his seat. Every gasp from Jason’s lips went straight to his cock and sent thrilled shivers down his spine, but it had nothing on the way his boyfriend groaned his codename out through gritted teeth. Tim’s eyes rolled back as that moment alone almost made him cum in his boxers. He watched, entranced, as Jason twisted Tim’s cape up tighter and tighter around his fist – even through the slightly pixilated feed, Tim could see the fabric straining.

“Fuck… Red Robin…”

Tim let out a squeak of guilt-ridden arousal at the sound of his name from Jason’s lips. He resisted touching himself, because he knew he wouldn’t last if he did. It was all too much – seeing Jason so vulnerable and exposed this way. Attempting to remove his mind from overthinking that point too much, he refocused his eyes on the screen. On Jason.

“Tim…” Jason moaned out again, causing Tim to let his eyes fall closed, “You enjoying- mmm- the show, babe?”

Tim’s eyes snapped open. What?!

“Know you’re there, Timmy…” Jay laughed through his laboured breaths, his fist around his cock slowing just slightly.

Heart racing, Tim flicked on the mic and connected to Jason’s earpiece, “…hi?”

“That all you got to say?” Jason followed up the words with a deep moan and a thrust up into his hand.

“I’m sorry..?” Tim cringed at the way his own voice shook through the words.

Jason released another breathless huff of laughter, “For this time, or all of them?”

He knew? Tim shuddered, caught between humiliated and even more turned on. “All of them..?”

“Here’s the- mmf! -Here’s the deal,” Jay started, “You get here before I cum, you’re forgiven, you lil creep!”

“I- Umm…”

“Now, Tim!” Jason gasped out, and Tim was out of his seat and disconnecting the feed quicker than he’d ever done anything else in the cave ever before…

-----

I hope you liked it. Again, I’m REALLY sorry!

[octannibal-blake]

bellamy scaring clarke on Halloween

INTO THE WOODS

Clarke has seen enough scary movies to know that going outside on an unusually foggy night towards wooded areas is usually how people end up in some creepy basement being tortured. Granted, it’s all a dramatization for Hollywood but still. This seems eerily familiar and she should absolutely turn around and go back to the party raging in the background. When she turns around, she can still see the lights from the large house belonging to her best friend, Wells. His dad just so happened to be out of town the weekend of Halloween and Wells would be damned to let that opportunity go to waste. Guy loves to party and she sure as hell wasn’t going to stop him.

She fidgets with the tiara on her head, wincing as it gets caught in one of her golden curls. She’s supposed to be a princess, sort of ironically, but the only person who would understand the ironic part is currently nowhere to be found. Which absolutely pisses her off because now it seems like a perfectly good costume gone to waste.

She reaches the edge of the woods, the music pumping softly in the background, and she begins to hesitate. This is weird. Beyond weird and stupid, really. She opens up the crumpled note in her palm.

Meet me at the old spot. I need to talk to you. -R.

She, Raven, and Wells had grown up together. When they were kids, they created a woodland club and used to hide there everyday after school. As they got older, it became a distant memory but Clarke hasn’t forgotten that it was a spot that revealed all their deepest secrets. It’s the place where Raven told them about finding drugs at her mom’s house. Where Wells told them his Dad was having an affair. Where Clarke came out as bisexual for the first time out loud. So that’s what brings her here, to the cliche point of a scary movie. Because her friend wouldn’t have asked her to come out here had she not needed something. Clarke knows it.

She pushes the branches aside as she walks. She clicks the flashlight of her phone on so as not to trip over the overgrown roots. Their spot doesn’t go in very deep, just about five minutes back and the lights of the house are still somewhat visible, making her feel ever so slightly better. Definitely not scared. Clarke Griffin doesn’t get scared.

“Raven?” she calls softly as she descends into their old spot. The old wooden sign remains nailed to the tree. Trikru, it reads. Tree crew. It was cute at the time.  Now that she’s older, it almost feels like they had been appropriating indigenous culture. She chalks up the insensitivity to youth. They hadn’t known better.

When she lands in the middle of the tree clearing, Raven is nowhere to be found. She had the note for at least twenty minutes before she was able to slip from the party without being seen. Raven should definitely be here by now.

“Raven?” she calls a bit louder this time. Even with the faint thump of the music at the house, things are suddenly too quiet. Too still. But she isn’t afraid. Nope. She’ll just send a text to her friend to let her know she’s here.

She pulls the phone up and opens the text. Just as she’s about to type, everything goes black. She hadn’t charged her fucking phone and drained her battery using the flashlight to get out here. The perks of having an outdated iPhone. The battery is shit.

“Great,” She grumbles and shoves the phone into her cleavage. Her stupid princess dress doesn’t have pockets.

“Raven, if you don’t answer me, I’m leaving,” she says into the darkness, “And I’m kicking your ass when I do see you.”

Nothing. Silence. She swallows, the saliva thickening in her throat. She has a bad feeling about this. As she’s about to take a step, a twig snaps from behind her.

“Hello?” she calls, and she hates the way her voice trembles because Goddamn it, she is not afraid.

There’s another movement, leaves crunching. She should run. Definitely run. But she’s rooted to the spot. It’s just Raven, she tells herself.

“Raven, I swear to God,” she hisses and there is another snapping twig, this one directly behind her. She whips around but there’s nothing there. Yeah, fuck this.

“I’m not afraid,” She says, mostly to herself and she turns back around ready to sprint when suddenly something lunges at her.

She screams, though it cuts off when a hand goes over her mouth and a familiar, deep rumbling laugh fills the silence.

She puts her hands on the hard chest of the assailant and shoves them away.

“I fucking hate you,” she huffs, the air seeming to have left her body for a moment.

There is another deep laugh, “I’m sorry.”

It’s not a sincere apology.

“You’re such an ass,” she folds her arms in a pout. A light clicks on and finally she sees him, the signature smirk gracing his lips.

“I couldn’t resist, Princess,” Bellamy Blake shrugs, his toned shoulder exposed by his costume. It’s a sheet twisted into, what she presumes to be, a toga.

“Love the costume by the way,” he says, giving her the once over, “Did you do that for me?”

Of course, is what she thinks. But she’s pissed at him right now so she refuses to satisfy his ego, “No.”

She realizes she’s being childish, the way her arms are folded defiantly and hip popped out with attitude. He only seems to get more enjoyment out of it. He reaches for her with his free hand.

“Aw, you did,” he chuckles as his arm snakes around her waist, “You aren’t very good at being subtle, Princess.”

Instinctively, she relaxes into him and she hates how easily she gives into him. But he knows her weaknesses. The stupid smile. The stupid way he wraps her up like a warm blanket, making her feel secure and happy. Ugh. Fuck him.

“You’re the worst,” She mumbles as she slides her arms around his waist, “No idea what I see in you.”

“You only like me for my skills in the bedroom,” he whispers in her ear before nibbling on her earlobe. He’s not wrong. Almost one year ago exactly she found herself in his bedroom learning first hand how great Bellamy Blake was in bed. She had thought they were rumors, started by the many girls he had dated during his high school years. Turns out, they were fucking true. It was supposed to be a one time thing. But it happened again. And again. And suddenly it was almost like they were… together. Except, he’s two years older than her and his sister just so happens to be her best friend. It’s complicated.

“So you pretended to be Raven to lure me into the woods?” She murmurs as he begins to lay soft kisses on her neck.

“Hmm,” he growls but makes no indication of slowing down.

“How did you even know about this place?” she muses aloud and he sighs into the hollow of her throat.

“You’ve mentioned it a few times,” he shrugs, “Are you going to keep asking questions?”

Her lips twitch at the look of frustration on his face. It’s has been two weeks since they last saw each other. Thanks college.

“I’m not having sex in the woods,” she says candidly and takes his hand in hers. Before he can protest she gives him a mischievous smile, “But there are five bedrooms in that house.”

He furrows his brow, clearly not catching the hint, “But people will see us.”

She makes a big show of shrugging, “Let them watch.”

They had been hooking up in secret for a year, for Christs sake. He had been vocal about wanting to be with her for real (which has always been hard to wrap her head around because like, he has been notorious for having commitment issues). She was the one reluctant to do that, fearful of what Octavia would think. Raven. And she didn’t want to tie him down when he just started college. Mostly her own insecurities, really.

They walk back to the party, hand and hand. No one really takes notice of them at first. They stand in doorway for a moment and she reconsidered for a moment. She likes sneaking around. She likes having him all to herself.  But he looks at her, adoration clear in his eyes and she can’t help but smile back.

“Happy Halloween, Bell,” She says and she stretches up to kiss him. It’s meant to be chaste, but he pulls her against him and deepens the kiss, making it known to the world that Bellamy Blake and Clarke Griffin are one hundred percent together. When they pull apart, someone clears their throat.

Octavia is staring at them with a smug look on her face, “I fucking knew it. Jasper, you owe me twenty bucks!”

send me a halloweenie prompt and ill write you a fic on shitty mobile format

[downinfront]

We deserve ‘Star Wars: The Rise of Skywalker.’

Overstuffed, overcorrecting, and overthought, Star Wars: The Rise of Skywalker is a confused, enthralling mess disguised as a love-letter to a fandom that long ago showed they didn't deserve it. It doesn't suffer for lack of craftsmanship or performance or even spirit, necessarily. This is, if nothing else, a very fun movie. But it's content to paint with a broad brush in a way that falls between smug and skittish; Skywalker merrily rehashes old plot lines, digs up old characters (alternate title: Star Wars — Episode IX: Hey, It's That Guy!) and shoehorns any and every element of fan service it can think of on the way to a conclusion that is rather moving in spite of itself. Here, it seems to be saying, is the Star Wars you all wanted.

In this film's defense, pandering might not be the worst thing in the world — the Marvel movies are 75% fan service and are reliably good to very good — but what this one suffers from is a distinct lack of imagination in a way that none of the other movies could truly claim. The prequels had their sprawling, elemental planets; Return of the Jedi had its toy chest of creatures; even Solo had a droid with a sex drive. In contrast, there's nothing in Skywalker you can't see coming, or at least vaguely sense from a mile off.

That's doubly disappointing in the wake of Rian Johnson's The Last Jedi, which gleefully set fire to almost every Star Wars plot convention and took the new films' dangling story threads in strange, interesting new directions. Luke Skywalker (Mark Hamill) turned out to be a grizzled, regret-filled hermit; Poe Dameron's (Oscar Isaac) dashing pigheadedness got a lot of people killed; looming final boss Snoke (Andy Serkis) got sliced in half at the top of Act Three. The fanboys hated it. So, duly chastised, J.J. Abrams returns to the director’s chair, cracks his knuckles and undoes or muddles nearly all of Johnson's creative choices to bring the saga back to safe, more palatable harbor by bringing an old villain back from the dead and awkwardly maneuvering the boat back into the lane he'd laid out in 2015's fun, reverential reboot The Force Awakens.

To its credit, The Rise of Skywalker retains the zippy joy of that ebullient thriller. This is a very enjoyable movie to watch, all constant motion, thundering pathos and a fair amount of genuine emotional weight. But Abrams' rough remolding unwittingly strips away the nuance from a story that had begun to show tantalizing signs of grey. Rey (Daisy Ridley) always had the potential to move (or destroy) worlds and The Last Jedi fascinatingly cast her as a nobody, toying with the idea that anyone possesses the capacity to do great and terrible things. Now, in keeping with the mysterious groundwork Awakens laid about her parentage, she is revealed to be very much somebody, the heiress to legacies both literal and figurative and thus a more fitting wielder of power. The violent longing of the lonely Kylo Ren (an unchallenged Adam Driver) is folded into the resurrection of Emperor Palpatine (Ian McDiarmid, still having way more fun than anybody in these movies); for much of Kylo’s screen time he’s an errand boy for the big bad, finally the Darth Vader knockoff he always wanted to be and that much less interesting as a result. Even the people in the new Star Wars want to be in the original Star Wars, seems to be the message. 

Luckily for them, the people making the new ones want to be making the old ones, too. Abrams opens the gates so legacy characters can pass through for a cup of coffee (Hi, Lando!). Dead characters walk as ghosts. Dead actors are oddly though not unlovingly shoehorned into the narrative. (Farewell, Carrie Fisher. It shouldn't have been like this.) It's not all unpleasant. We, too, are fans of Star Wars, and watching the Millennium Falcon lead an armada into the final battle is not without its visual grandeur, nor is the battle between Rey and Kylo on the splintered, shipwrecked hull of the Death Star. But I kept wishing there was more of Keri Russell's masked bandit, or Kelly Marie Tran's rudely sidelined Rose Tico, or even John Boyega's Finn, who went from rudderless turncoat to generic good guy so fast it barely registered. (Luckily, Boyega's not-asexual chemistry with Poe is one of the movie's consistently entertaining high points, but his connection with another rebel played by Naomi Ackie goes underexplored.) 

That these fascinating characters — born into loss and trauma and the responsibility of finishing the work their parents abandoned — are forced to cede the stage to the familiar comforts of Good vs. Evil may make the internet happy, but it does no service to a story whose charm always lay in its complexity and its imagination. As it is, Rise of Skywalker doesn't have a lot of either. It wants to love and be loved unconditionally and collapses under the weight of its own devotion. It's an IOU that knows not what it's apologizing for, a beautiful bouquet that smells like your ex. It is, undoubtedly, the Star Wars we wanted; it is, depressingly, the Star Wars we deserve.