#but apparently lots of people are super bent on that being the direction of the show??? Honey no

[a-story-teller]

Nooo don't stop killing white guys you're so sexy aha

[georg-prime]

On Agatha All Along eps 8-9

I'm feel about the same as @p-taryn-dactyl's answer and @ennn in this post.

But yeah I'm really disappointed that we didn't have a full Agatha backstory. Nothing about why her mother was so bent on thinking she was evil from birth, nor anything about her and Rio's beginnings. I do appreciate they took the time to show us her life with her son, to really show how desperate she was to keep him alive and how she just embraced the killings right after her double heartbreak (losing her son that way, Rio taking him while she was asleep etc). But then it took time from other things. So I hope there's still a possibility we learn more things about her while a chatty ghost but we'll, this was supposed to be her show first, next time we see her it probably won't be centered on her.

Also not really happy about is how they really went there with Billy having created the Road. Not only I fear the fighting between fans now (I sure as hell wish one day I could be in a fandom were people wouldn't be aweful to each other or to actors/crew members etc, like wishing death on people wth!!? or even on beloved characters that's just mean), but also it means that they used this opportunity of introducing him by already kind of giving him the guilt and trauma from the Mother arc in Young Avengers 2. So that means they did this, taking it away from being a YA story, and either never having him do that again and so not really exploring the full "reality bending powers so huge they can alter the world and he isn't controlling them yet but his friends and love are here with him and he is the Demiurge" story, or they would make him do that again in some other story and I think that would be worse... Nobody would need such a plot a third time after this and Wandavision. I understand, "parallels" and all, but no 3rd.

Not much infos about Death too, I was hoping for at least some answers to my questions here. There will be other occasions (but I don't have much hope on this front, I fear other writers would more likely just make her a joke character, to just be there looking sexy and weird, flirting with some dude, without much depth 🤔).

Then Alice.

I can appreciate the bitter sweet realization that she did indeed fulfill her purpose at least once. But ugh, a white woman who already lived very very long, and it was a very long psychopathic life, got saved then while the Asian quite young for a witch and very kind person, who barely got her chance at a good life freed from her curse, dies protecting her? Not a good look for this show. I do enjoy seeing Agatha being the equivalent of a pirate, just enjoying life doing crimes, free in a patriarchal world, but not at this kind of cost and without real consequences (she'll get a chance at life back surely).

I'm just glad that at least Jen got a second chance. After having suffered for a whole century as a Black woman, so not exactly having much rights for a big part of it (they didn't think this through when they cast her I bet, it should have been at least mentioned), alone and with nothing to her name, because of said white woman - I was worried they also go there and it would be part of the 'haha it was Agatha all along " thing, but hoped they won't... anyway that also sting man.

I guess I'm also disappointed about the lack of answer to Billy's question if he is Billy or William, and no apparently recovering much memories, but I'm guessing they might tell that story an other time. Maybe.

Basically I did like this show, it had a lot of good things, awesome visuals and costumes, good directing & cinematography, great cast, interesting characters. But it is super disturbing to me how writers don't seem to understand they can't just kill a bunch of characters they made the viewers love, so easily/quickly/kind of cheaply. The only death here who is really acceptable imo was Lilia's, it was indeed the choice of a long lived person who saved several people in doing so and will have several long lasting effects (getting Agatha rid of the Salem Seven, giving advice and his book to Billy, having Jen trust and care for other witches again). Sharon being played for laughs is now in fact a serious guilty memory to Billy, even though it's an accident in this situation in his part and very much Agatha's fault (she brought the 'civilian' there, what was she going to do to her anyway after killing the other 3 like she was originally planning, just let her go? I somehow doubt it 😅), and while he already feels guilty about how he and Tommy are still alive, plus the whole Alice's case, that's kind of cruel frankly.

Anyway, I'm still going to hope that Secret Wars will bring us Alice from an alternate reality, that they don't screw up the Young Avengers too much, and that the lessons about optimizing a show/movie's budget with good practical effects and art and time, will be learned.Next generation of writers please be less homicidal with the characters. Keep the open mindedness of this generation when it comes to queer stories and the concept of intricate plots of the 2000-2010's dark area, add the low stakes fun adventures of the previous generations, and let's try and be more mindful of the racism, I see this gen is trying but they don't get it yet clearly.We'll get there 🤞

[thewritetofreespeech]

Can you do a scenario Obey Me were MC has a accidental nip slip that she doesnt notice, but the brothers do.

For the sake of an even playing field, all 7 boys will be reacting to the same scenario: coming to wake MC up in the morning for school only for their titty to be half out.

Lucifer

His knock was polite, but stern. Three short raps, followed by a long pause, before he let himself in. “[Y/N], I have to insist you get up now. You will be late for classes.”

You groan and cruel further into yourself under the covers. Trying to hold on to your sleep, but it was already slipping away through your fingers. With a huff you uncoil yourself and come out from under the covers. “Alright. I’m up.” You announce. Awake but still dreamy eyed as you rubbed the sleep from them.

When your eyes refocus, you see Lucifer staring at you. His face it’s normal placid expression, but definitely staring. “What’s wrong?” You ask. Was your hair some sort of crazy way?

The demon smirked and walked over to you. You blush as he came close to your bed and bent over, rebuttoning your pajama top that had come open in the middle of the night and left your left side exposed. How embarrassing?!

“Perhaps I should come wake you up more often.” He said with a sultry smirk. “Or at least not on a day when you have school. Now, I must insist you get ready. Our model exchange student can’t be late for their day.” He gave you a peck on the cheek and saw his way out. You have to wonder if he was really going to ‘wake you up’ on Saturday…..

Mammon

The loud sound of your door being flung open startled you from your sleep, and practically out of bed. “Hey, hey, hey! Time to get up sleepy head!”

“Mammon!” You growl from under the covers. “What the hell are you doing?!”

“I came to wake you up. Lucifer told me to make sure you’re ready for school. Even Belphie beat you downstairs. Come on. Chop chop!”

You groan and fling your covers off. Sitting up to scratch your head. Hopefully your day was more peaceful after this.

“[Y-Y-Y/N]! What the hell?!” You look over at the demon who had gone from horribly confident to horribly red & stammering in a matter of moments. “Do you always sleep like that?!”

You look down, trying to see what the big deal was, and realizing your chest was exposed. “N-No! It just came off in my sleep! Who are you to judge anyway?! You sleep naked!”

“Yeah! But not with anyone around!”

“You’re not supposed to be around!” You pick up a pillow and toss it at him, which he easily dodged, before shouting, “get out!” The demon did as he was told and scampered off, like a rabbit with his tail on fire.

He avoided you for the rest of the day. Making eye contact but fervently darting his gaze away. Mammon finally came up to you after dinner to apologize, and promised that if he had to wake you up again, he would knock first.

Levi

You were dreaming about pancakes when there was a knock at your door. Quiet, at first. Almost like someone’s knuckles barely touched the door. Then they knocked again, seeming to realize that the first few knocks were no good, knocking with confidence.

“[Y/N]-chan? Are you awake?” You open your eyes from your blanket nest to see Levi poking his head in. “It’s time for school.”

“Oh…yeah…” You yawn after that. Cutting off whatever else you were going to say after that. You shouldn’t have let Levi talk you into watching an anime marathon with him. You’d only gone to sleep a few hours ago. “What time is it?”

The demon looked down at his watch while you got out of bed, and when he looked up his face was completely red.

“[Y-Y-Y/N]! Y-Your….! Ah! I’m so sorry!!”

You blink in a start as Levi slammed the door as he ran away. You wonder what happened, but then catch sight of yourself in the mirror. Your top half exposed. You blush yourself at realizing why he had taken off, but get over the mortification quickly as you had to get ready for school.

Poor Levi couldn’t come near you for several days after that without turning beet red or becoming a stammering idiot. You have to assure him several times that it was really ok, and that your honor was intact, but he promised never to come get your up for school ever again.

Satan

There was a sharp rap at your door that awoke you from your slumber.

“[Y/N], are you awake?”

“Satan?” You question. Hearing his voice from the other side of the door. What was he doing here so early?

Seeming to sense your question, the fourth eldest brother replied in kind. “Lucifer sent me to get you. He was concerned you would be late for school since you weren’t down at breakfast yet. May I come in?”

You chuckle lightly at his polite request and tell him he could come in. Your arms stretching over your head as the door opened and the blonde walked in. “Ah good. You are awake. I was concerned that…uh….um….”

You blink curiously as Satan seemed to lose his train of thought. Unusual for him, as he was typically such a word smith, so you had to ask. “Satan? Is something wrong?”

“I ah…ahem!” The demon cleared his throat. Covering his face with his hand, hiding his blush, as he looked away. “I uh…apologize. I should have given you more time to get ready before I let myself in. Or at least properly dressed.”

Your brow furrowed and you look down to see your pajama top open and blush. Quickly closing it with an apology. “I’m so sorry!”

“It’s...quite alright. I’ll uh…ahem…leave you to get ready now that I know your awake. I’ll see you at school.”

The demon, who normally walked with such purpose and confidence, seemed to stumble in his walk out of your room. Seeming to want to stay, but fighting the urge and forcing himself to leave. Apparently after he had left, he’d gotten into a fight with Mammon and threw him into a wall. You suppose that energy had to go somewhere.

Asmo

A light, delicate rapping on your door woke you up from your peaceful dream about cupcakes and French lattes. The sound was whimsical. Almost like a bird. After that, the smell of roses filled the room as the door opened and the Avatar of Lust appeared.

“Gooood morning darling~!” Asmodeus cheered as he let himself in. Practically gliding across the room and perching himself on the edge of your bed. “Wake up sleeping beauty! Classes will be starting soon, and we don’t want to be late. You need to get up, so you can get ready and look your best.”

You groan softly, but come out from under the covers as requested. He was right. It was time to get ready.

“Aaahh~! [Y/N]! You naughty thing. Tempting me this early in the morning.” You blink the last big of sleep from your gaze, and look down to see where his was trained. You yip as you realize he was staring at your exposed breast, and smacked his hand away when it inched closer.

“Asmodeus!”

The androgenous demon giggled at your scolding, but pulled his hand away in surrender. “Sorry, sorry. I was only kidding.” You have to wonder if he was only ‘kidding’ now that he got rejected. “Let’s just keep this our little secret, ok? I don’t want my brothers getting super jealous about seeing our beautiful [Y/N] in their morning glory. They’ll be banging down the door every morning to get a peek.” Asmo then winked, leaning in to steal a quick peck on your cheek, before he jumped up. “I’ll be waiting for you downstairs~! Unless you need help getting ready. I have too good hands and a lot of enthusiasm for a chore like that.”

The demon giggled brightly all the way out of the room as your tossed pillows at him like rose petals to show him the door.

Beel

The knock on your door was loud, though you could tell not intentionally. It was more a factor of the large fist knocking on it, rather than the force, of the largest of the seven brothers coming to wake you.

“[Y/N]?” You heard Beel’s voice from under your blanket nest. Smiling soft at the gentle way he’d come to wake you up. He must have a lot of experience with Belphie. “Lucifer asked me to come get you up for school. I brought you some breakfast. I didn’t want you to miss out.” You hear what you assume is a tray being sat on your desk. “Some of it didn’t make it all the way here, but most of it did! I tried to keep your favorites safe for you. Mammon wanted the last Hellfire sausage, but I got it for you.”

Your soft smile increased as you pictured the bright, sun like smile on the gentle giants face. Proud of himself for getting it and keeping himself from eating it for you. “Thanks Beel,” you tell him. Coming out from under your covers to see that smiling face in person.

You see it for a moment before his face feel. His eyes averting away from you, and his cheeks turning around as red as his carrot top. “Uh..[Y/N]…your top is kind of falling off.”

You look down and gasp, quickly covering ourself up. “I’m sorry!!”

“That’s ok.” Beel said with a soft laugh. “It happens. Plus, you’ve seen me with my shirt off all the time. It’s not a big deal.”

“It’s not exactly the same….” You mutter quietly into your blanket.

Beel just laughed jovially again, and came over to pat your head. “Come on. Your breakfast is getting cold. I’ll leave so you can eat and get ready. Do you want me to walk you to first period when you’re done?” You nodded into your blankets this time. “Ok! I’ll meet you in the lobby when you’re done.”

With another big smile, your big guy left. Letting you change and enjoy your breakfast, with Hellfire sausage.

Belphie

“Oy…[Y/N]….wake up….”

“Mhmp….Belphie?” Your eyes crack open as he gently shook you. When had he come into your room? You hadn’t heard him knock, or even the door open. Had he just let himself in? “What are you doing here?”

“Stupid Lucifer told me to come get you up for school.” He told you. “I don’t know why. I’m not good at waking people up. I’m barely awake myself.” His statement was punctuated with a long yawn.

You sleepily chuckle and sit up. “Well, you are up. So you’re doing better than me.”

His droopy eyes were looking at you, or perhaps more specifically in your direction. He seemed to be looking at something totally other than your face, and you were about to ask him what when he said, “your boob is sticking out.” Pointing for affect.

You look down to where he was pointing and squeal. Closing your pajama top tight with both hands. “Belphegor! Don’t stare!”

“Why not? It’s nothing haven’t seen before. Remember when your top came off at the beach last summer?”

“That is not something I want to remember right now! And it is not the same! Get out!”

The Sloth demon picked at his ear in annoyance of your yelling, but gave a soft ‘yeah, yeah’ as he saw himself out. Mission accomplished.

He doesn’t seem to understand why you were annoyed with him for the rest of the day, but still made an effort to apologize after a while so you would talk to him again. Only he was allowed to do the silent treatment.

[y0itsbri]

gallavich week 2021 - day 3 - travel au as always inspo from @ianandmickeygallavich // @gallavichthings

Stuck with You

Words: 5.5k

Summary: A winter storm strands a desperate-to-return-to-Chicago Ian at the airport with no car. A dark-haired mysterious man in an expensive-looking leather jacket and sunglasses seems to be his only hope. Ian grows suspicious of the man's true intentions as they embark on their road trip with some funky excursions. The two men find what need they most in each other.

"Fiona, I'm literally at the gate. I'm about to board now!" Ian was lying straight out of his ass as he was running through the bustling airport, dragging his bag as fast as the bent-as-all-hell wheels on the suitcase would allow him. He had not, in fact, woken up to his first alarm... or second. Maybe he was running extremely late despite Fiona's near-constant nagging to get there early in case something happens again.

Ian mumbled a quiet "Fuck" as his suitcase's wheel locked up again. He did not have time for this. His huffed cursing was apparently heard by Fiona's supersonic hearing. A woman in white capris glared his way. Okay, maybe it wasn't that quiet.

"Ian!" Fiona's voice rang through his phone. She sounded frantic and exhausted. She had every right to be, but Ian was not in the mood for an early morning guilt trip. "What happened? And you better stop fuckin' lying to me and get your ass-"

"Fi, I gotta go, love you, talk to you later, promise," he mumbled all the formalities as genuinely as he could muster before he hung up. He had tuned his attention into his surroundings and noticed an absurd about of people hovered around the rent-a-car station while the airport gates nearly empty, except for the occasional airport employees trying to reason with irritated passengers.

Sure enough, something did happen, as Fiona would have happily predicted. There was a massive winter storm and all flights had been delayed until further notice. Ian idly walked to his gate just to make sure he wasn't going to miss his plane like he had the day before. The gate was a fuckin' ghost town besides one man in an expensive-looking studded leather jacket and shiny dark hair to match. His eyes were hidden behind a pair of purple sunglasses, despite the fact that they were currently indoors.

Ian instinctively stepped closer to the man to maybe strike up a conversation. It wasn't something he was so fond of doing, but if he was trapped at an airport, he might as well make friends. Anything to distract his anxious thoughts about not making it back to Chicago in time for his interview. He couldn't even look at his phone, knowing Fiona was probably blowing it up right now about how he has to get his shit together. He knows.

In the midst of his inner debate, Ian oh-so-gracefully tripped over a chair -- the wheels of his suitcase coming to a halt, causing the bag to loudly clang against a nearby pole.

The man jumped up with a startle, yanking off his glasses and swiftly reaching into his boot and pulling out a small knife. He slowly took in the fact that there was no threat -- just a giant blushing ginger wincing at the knife pointed his direction.

The man sighed and tucked his knife away, "Shit, I thought you were trying to rob me or something."

Ian eyed a small black backpack tucked behind the man's legs. That bag was sleek and tiny compared to Ian's nightmare of a bag.

"Ain't look like you got much to steal," Ian joked, immediately regretting his decision to be witty after literally just being held at knifepoint. Maybe the mysterious man would appreciate his charm.

The man frowned. Okay, maybe Ian's humor wasn't for everyone.

"And how did you get that knife through security?" Ian asked in attempt to ease the tension a bit.

"None of your damn business." The man retorted shortly, but his eyes lingered over Ian for a moment longer, amused.

"Right." Ian replied after a moment. That was fair. He was a stranger, after all. But there was something about this man that was so intriguing. The man stood nearly half a foot shorter than Ian and clearly had the personality to make up for it. Ian was most definitely not in the mood to almost get stabbed again so he decided to lay off the talking, making an obvious show of adverting his gaze from the gorgeous leather-clad man in front of him.

"Uh.. hey," the man spoke up again as he looked around the terminal. "Did I miss the flight or did everyone just get abducted by aliens or some shit?"

Ian was amused at the aliens bit. Who even was this guy?

"It looks like all flights are delayed. Some freak super-storm coming in, don't want any crashes or anything."

"Buncha pussies," the dark-haired man grumbled as he stood up.

"Where are you going?" Shut up, Ian, shut up shut up shut up.

"Rent-a-car? Is that okay with you?" The guy pulled his bag over his shoulder, but turned his gaze back to Ian.

"Uh, yeah, I mean -- sorry, never mind." Nice going, Ian.

"I'm just busting your balls, man. Just gotta get back to Chicago before the weekend. Can't just sit around like a little bitch and wait for a storm to pass like some people." The enigmatic man teased him.

Ian rolled his eyes, but followed him like a lost puppy. "You're not the only one. I have an interview in Chicago in two days and I really can't miss it." Ian pointed back towards the rent-a-car area when the man didn't question him any further. "Don't think you'll have much luck with that, by the way. They looked almost sold outta cars when I walked past here earlier."

"So you walked past the rent-a-car instead of actually getting one? Real smart, Stumbles."

Ian cringed at the nickname. So much for first impressions. The man pulled out his phone from the tight pocket of his pants and stopped abruptly, Ian almost losing his balance to keep from stumbling into the guy. Again. Ian was literally swept up off his feet by this dude. He had to get himself in control before he lost what remained of his dignity.

"Ey' Dimitri, I need a car." The guy said into the phone. Ian awkwardly waited around. It wasn't like they made any plans of travelling together but they were in the middle of a conversation, he couldn't just leave. It wouldn't be polite. Not that much about this guy was polite to begin with. But they had something going at least. The phone conversation got heated very quickly. Now Ian could very clearly see why he was the type of person to have a knife in arm's reach at any given notice.

"I know you have fuckin' plenty. I'll drop it off next time I see Yevgeny, you know I'm good for it. I gotta job this weekend- It is your fuckin' business when your bitch of a wife- Oh c'mon, you can admit she's a bit of a bitch. Whatever- Or do you wanna tell Svetlana that your incompetent ass is the reason why she ain't getting her payment- or do you plan on paying for that shit? Didn't think so. Black cat. Red one."

There was definitely a lot to unpack and as curious as Ian was, he was definitely not gonna ask... yet.

"Red, you comin'?" The dark-haired man called over his shoulder as he started heading towards the airport's exit.

"Me?" Way to play it cool, Ian.

"No. The other giant ginger standing behind you. Yes, you."

"My name's Ian, by the way."

"Don't care."

"Where are we going?"

"Chicago."

--

Together but not together, they waited for... Dimitri, maybe? The shorter man beside Ian was tapping around on his phone and hadn't said a word about their plans beyond the simple 'Chicago.'

Right as Ian got the nerve to ask, a sleek black jaguar came to a halt on the street in front of them. Ian only knew a bit about cars because his brother liked fixing them up -- and man, was this a sick car. Lip would be jealous. Ian fought the urge to take a photo of the car -- unsure what the boundaries were in situations like this.

Ian's mystery man sauntered over to the driver's seat, exchanging a loaded handshake before switching places with the driver, who was apparently not Dimitri.

The passenger side window rolled down, revealing a bright red interior. "Coming, princess?"

Ian placed his suitcase in the backseat before hopping in the front himself.

"Do I ever get to know your name, princess?" Ian teased back. But he was genuinely curious.

The guy smirked, "Buckle up. I ain't slowing down for anything." And true to his word, they sped out of the parking lot, earning a few well-deserved horns from cars that they had cut off. Ian cringed.

--

Ian waited until they were on the interstate to speak again, not wanting to be the cause for an accident with this guy's hectic driving and the snow lightly falling on the road in front of them. Maybe he shouldn't be getting into cars with mysterious strangers. Maybe he should have thought of that before he did, in fact, get into a car with a mysterious stranger.

Ian decided to try again, "Ya know, if you don't tell me your name, I'm just going to start calling you something real stupid, like Bob or Cookie or Raven."

"Raven is actually kinda badass." The man replied, not taking his eyes off the road, but the side of his mouth quirking upward.

This guy was impossible, "Ugh."

"Ya know, you're kind of annoying for a passenger who should be grateful that I'm saving your ass. I could dump you on the side of the road, make you hitch hike all the way to Chicago or wherever the hell you end up. Probably some real weirdos out there wanting to pick up a pretty boy like you."

"Didn't ask to be saved." Ian blushed despite his best efforts to play it cool.

"No? So you were just following me all around the airport, why?" He glanced at Ian this time.

Yeah, he had a point. "Like I said, I got an interview I can't miss. My sister set it up for me and she would actually have my ass if I fucked this up. I'm talking like this-is-the-final-straw." Ian sighed, running his hands up and down his face.

"Hmm. You'll make it. I'm a good driver." He smirked. He lifted his hand off the wheel as if he were about to touch Ian's shoulder or something, but decided against it at the last second.

"Good and fast are not equivalent." Ian's breath hitched.

"Says you." The guy drummed his fingers.

"Says most people. And probably the cops." Ian was not about to spend a night in the slammer.

"Fuck the cops." He said like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

"Yeah."

The conversation died down and a rock ballad lulled over the car's exquisite sound system. Damn, this was a nice car.

"Mickey." The guy murmured, barely audible over the bass.

"What?" Like the mouse?

"My name's Mickey, by the way." He glanced over at Ian.

Oh. "Kinda badass." Ian returned with eye contact a smirk.

Mickey smiled at the road ahead of them.

--

"Mornin', Sleeping Beauty." Mickey called out from the driver's seat, patting Ian's shoulder. Ian could have sworn Mickey's hand lingered a bit longer than necessary, but maybe he was just reading into the interaction.

Ian must have fallen asleep sometime during the drive, because now they were parking in the parking lot of a diner. Red neon lights highlighted the exterior, giving the place a sultry vibe. Odd vibe for an off-the-road diner, but Ian supposed it could be weirder.

Mickey hopped out of the car and shoved his hands into the pocket in his leather jacket, searching for something.

After a moment, Ian slowly stretched his legs out as he crawled out of the car and found Mickey smoking a cigarette while leaning against the hood of the car. It was picture perfect. Mickey hadn't noticed him emerge yet, so Ian decided to give into his urges as he snapped a picture of the beautiful man in front of him -- all black shadows and glowing red.

Ian closed the car door and Mickey stubbed out his cigarette and led them inside. "Usual table," he said to the hostess, who led them to a table set for two towards the back of the establishment.

Yeah, this was weird. Who the fuck had a 'usual table' at a joint off the highway in the middle of nowhere?

Inside hung the heads of exotic animals that Ian hoped were fake. Once they were sat across from each other, Mickey ordered a short stack of pancakes and Ian ordered a hamburger and fries -- the first thing he saw on the menu.

"So, brunch and tigers? What is this place?" Ian mused, curiosity and now suspicion overtaking him.

"Cool, huh? Got connections." Mickey went back to rearranging the condiments and sugars on their table.

"Mhm." Ian was skeptical, but didn't want to pry. He seemed to be on this guy's good side for now.

Ian spent the better part of their stay just taking in everything around them. The walls were lined with playing cards, posters from bands he's never heard of, bizarre news articles, lights swung and tacked up with a casual precision, literal jewelry and crowns under display cases, and he could've sworn there was sparkles mixed into the red paint covering the walls. It was like a goblin's cave or something.

Occasionally, he would look up at Mickey, who would look away almost instantly -- like he'd been caught in the middle of something. Planning something? Ian couldn't tell if Mickey's cheeks were actually blushing red or if it was just the lighting. Probably for the best because Ian blushed like a motherfucker whenever he held Mickey's eyes for too long.

Luckily, the waitress brought over their food before Ian could say something stupid. Ian's hamburger and fries were places in a classic red boat with black and white checkered paper. The burger was massive and had a flamingo pick placed in the center of it. Mickey's pancakes were covered in bananas, blueberries, and powdered sugar. The waitress also set down a glass elephant bottle filled with, what looked like, maple syrup. The waitress just smiled at them and walked away without another word. This place was strange. And Ian couldn't shake that feeling.

About halfway through eating, Ian had enough of the odd vibes and promptly excused himself to go to the bathroom. He had to get out of here, forgo his luggage in the fancy ass car. He didn't care if he'd have to hitch hike at this point. He washed his hands in the bathroom sink, planning when to make his escape, when the door swung open.

"Ian." Mickey looked genuinely concerned. No stupid nickname. Ian. "What's wrong, man? You looked pretty sick back there. Is it food poisoning? I'll give Anakin a fuckin' piece of my mind if he didn't cook that fuckin' burger. He knows better than to fuck with me." He rattled off.

Ian felt flighty and tried to take off during Mickey's rage-induced ramble but an arm gripped his bicep, stopping him in his tracks.

"Hey, Ian, look at me." That was the problem. Ian couldn't stop looking at him. He would probably do anything he asked. And that was fucking dangerous. He was a stranger with connections. That couldn't lead to anything good.

Ian finally made eye contact and the grip on his arm loosened, gently sliding towards his wrist before falling back to Mickey's side.

"Promise me you won't kill me." Ian blurted out.

Mickey's eyebrows nearly flew off his face, "Kill you? Where the fuck is this coming from? You think I hate you or something?"

"Well, maybe, I don't know. This is weird."

"Maybe." Mickey paused, actually making an effort to see this whole strange situation from Ian's perspective. "But I like weird."

Ian stayed silent.

"I promise I'm not going to kill you. I promise that I'm going to get you back to Chicago for your interview. I promise we're all good, okay?"

The tension in Ian's shoulder's visibly relaxed and he released a breath he didn't know he had been holding. But that confession still doesn't explain this weird excursion.

"Why does everyone here know you?" Ian finally asked, swallowing his nerves.

This was not a conversation for the men's bathroom, but here they were anyways.

Mickey looked a bit embarrassed. "Used to live a few towns over with my ex-wife-"

"Ex-wife?" Ian nearly choked.

"Svetlana. Fuckin' disaster. But I used to come here with my son, Yev, on special occasions when his mom was out. He always loved it -- thought he was the king or some shit."

"Oh."

"Don't see the kid as much anymore, but this place still has the best fuckin' pancakes so we go when we can."

"So this isn't a sting operation to kidnap me?"

Mickey rolled his eyes, "You're an idiot. I actually happen to like you."

"Yeah, me too."

"So glad you like yourself, champ."

"Oh, fuck me." Ian groaned.

"Maybe later." Mickey smiled too sweetly for someone who had just insinuated what they had.

They returned to their table, finishing off what they could. Mickey had insisted he pay for both of their meals -- reparation for nearly giving Ian a heart attack and fleeing off to fucking Mexico or something. The waitress collected their tab and walked away with a wink, "Have fun tonight, boys."

"See ya 'round, Geneva." Mickey called, "Always in my fuckin' business." But Ian could tell it was meant with nothing but fondness.

Mickey held gave a two finger salute to the hostess on his way out before holding the lion-studded doors and turning to face Ian, "We're in this together, yeah?"

"Yeah."

--

Ian didn't fall asleep in the car this time. Instead, they played the license plate game and carried impersonal conversation in between stops at gas stations and fast food restaurants.

--

"Books or movies?" Ian read from his phone.

"What kind of fuckin' question is that?"

"From the online list you made me look up!"

"Yeah, because you suck at coming up with questions!"

"Whatever. Books or movies?"

"Movies, duh."

"Aw, c'mon, you don't like books? When was the last time you even read a book?"

Mickey flipped him off, "What about you, smartass? You prefer books over movies?"

"Well, no..."

"Well, exactly."

--

"Cats or dogs?" Ian asked. "I've never had either, but dogs are cool."

"Yeah, 'cause you act like one."

Ian gasped, mocking an expression of hurt. "I bet you're a dog person, though."

"Yeah, why're you so sure about that?"

"They're all tough and shit."

"I got a cat back home. She's tougher than any dog I know."

"What's her name?"

"Indy."

"Aw, softy."

"It's short for Indica, clearly we're cool."

Ian gave an even more exaggerated "Aww."

"Shut up, next question."

--

They had missed the worst of the winter storm that had threatened their flight and gotten them in this situation to begin with. It was starting to get dark and while Mickey assured Ian that he could drive through the night, Ian insisted they could stop at a hotel and still make it back before his interview. Truthfully, he didn't want to be involved in a luxury car crash with a maybe Russian mobster. He couldn't pinpoint Mickey, but that's what he had currently decided on.

They had pulled off into the lot of a pink hotel. Mickey had gotten them two rooms, side-by-side. Instead of going up to his room and passing out like Ian had expected, Mickey headed straight towards the hotel bar -- ordering a mojito and a vodka tonic and making friendly talk with the waitress in a very low cut red shirt like they were old friends. Mickey was nothing like Ian expected.

Ian headed up to his room to drop off his suitcase and call Fiona back, sure she was going to disown him right then and there for avoiding her calls all day.

--

Ian opted against going down to the bar and instead watched reruns on the hotel tv. Alcohol didn't really mix well with his meds and he didn't want a hangover if they were going to be in a car all day tomorrow -- especially a nice car like that. Yeah, he wasn't puking in that anytime soon if he could help it.

He took a long, hot shower, indulging in the hotel's eucalyptus-scented body wash before settling in for the night.

Ian was resting peacefully until he heard a blood-curdling scream next door. Mickey was next door. Mickey.

Ian leapt out of bed, grabbing nothing but his shirt before frantically knocking on Mickey's door. C'mon Mickey, don't be dead. C'mon. C'mon.

Mickey swung open the door rubbing sleep from his eyes, "Ian?"

"Uh, hi. I heard screaming. Just making sure you're not being murdered."

"Shit, yeah. I get night terrors sometimes. I meant to mention that to you, but it must have slipped my mind after a few drinks. Didn't see you down there?"

"I called it an early night," Ian replied guiltily. He felt bad if Mickey was waiting for him. But he didn't know.

"Yeah... anything else?" Mickey looked Ian up and down. Ian was suddenly hyper aware he was standing in front of Mickey in only his boxers.

"Um, no." Ian glanced around nervously.

"Great." Mickey shut the door. Whatever. Ian turned to open his door, but it wouldn't open. He searched his pants for the key card only to be reminded that he was not, in fact, wearing pants. Fucking great indeed.

Ian knocked on Mickey's door again.

"What?" He grumbled with a tooth pick between his teeth. "'m not fuckin' screamin' anymore."

"I locked myself out."

"Of course you did." Mickey rubbed a hand down his face, "You ain't goin' down to the front desk in your underwear and I'm not goin' down there either so it looks like you can either come with me or sleep in the hallway, your choice."

Some choice.

Ian followed Mickey into his room, the same layout as Ian's -- just mirrored. Mickey tossed a blanket at him and then collapsed back into the pillows himself.

Ian tried to make himself comfortable on the ground but all he was going to do was bruise his fuckin' spine and freeze his ass off because apparently Mickey likes to sleep in Antarctica.

"Fuckin' cold." Ian mumbled, cocooned in his one tiny hotel-grade blanket that hardly covered his long body.

Mickey didn't open his eyes, but he lifted the comforter on the bed, "Get in here, Frosty."

Ian hesitated. But he was really fucking cold. He made sure not to touch Mickey at all as he crawled under the covers, laying as still as he could on the edge of the mattress. Mickey sighed and scooted his back into Ian's chest, grabbed Ian's arm, and draped it around his waist. "There."

Ian was still for a moment before settling into the warmth.

"Mickey." He said softly. He wasn't even sure if Mickey had heard him.

"What?"

"Is that your real name? Mickey?"

Mickey sighed, "Mikhailo."

"Hmm. I like Mikhailo. It's like Mick-halo, like you're an angel."

"Baby, you've met me. There ain't nothing good about me. I'm more like the devil."

"Why's that?"

"Dude, I almost knifed you when we first met."

"I had that coming, though."

"Maybe so."

"Is that all?"

"Fuckin' terrorized my neighborhood as a kid."

"Me too, you ain't special. Got anything else?"

"I'm a raging homo."

Ian rolled his eyes. "Me too. Anything else?"

"Can't do enough for my own kid."

Ian was quiet so Mickey continued.

"Svet won't keep him in Chicago where my job is. I don't wanna be the asshole to choose work over my kid, but I can't just up and leave, either."

"Yeah, but it sounds like you visit him a lot. He must know you love him, though. Bet you're a better father than mine."

"Yeah, mine too. Ain't hard to beat. He's a real dick. I don't wanna be anything like that piece of shit."

Ian squeezing his grip around Mickey's waist. "You're not. I'm still betting you're all things good."

"Hmm."

"Guess we'll just have to see."

"Guess so."

A moment passed before Mickey spoke again.

"Go to sleep, stupid."

"Goodnight, Mick-halo."

Ian nestled his head into Mickey's hair, smelling the eucalyptus on his as well. The two not-strangers drifted off together.

--

Ian woke up after Mickey, who was already packing up his oddly tiny back pack again. And Ian's suitcase. He took a moment to recall last night's events.

"How the fuck did you get that?"

"Morning to you, too." Mickey tossed a prepacked muffin at Ian's half asleep body. "Went to the front desk for a spare key after continental breakfast, duh. Eat up, we're leaving in 10."

Ian groaned and pulled the covers over his head. He felt a weight on the mattress beside him. He peeked from behind the blanket to see that Mickey had sat down and was currently staring at his legs? Ass? Who knew. Turns out 'thighs' was the correct answer as he set his hand on the outer part of Ian's right thigh. Just resting it there for a moment before getting up.

"Fine, we're leaving in 15."

Satisfied, Ian closed his eyes for a few minutes, feeling the ghost of Mickey on his leg. He was so warm. It was like his heart was on fire.

--

They ended up leaving 10 minutes after Mickey's initial 15 were up. But it wasn't Ian's fault that there was a hold-up at the front desk. Something about a scheduling conflict between a drag show and a speech contest. Hell, Mickey thought they should combine the two events and call it a day.

Back in the car, Mickey had some upbeat indie music playing this morning while they circled around the old town to find a gas station.

"Ya want anything?" Mickey asked before he turned away from the pump and towards the building, patting down his ass to make sure he had his wallet.

Ian was distracted by the patting for a moment before replying. "Uh, maybe a Gatorade or something?"

Mickey tapped the hood of the car twice instead of replying verbally, but the message was received nonetheless.

Ian pulled up the picture he had taken yesterday of Mickey in front of the bizarre diner, moments before he thought he was being hunted for sport. It was beautiful. He was beautiful.

After a moment, the driver's side door swung open, "Whatcha lookin' at, Smiles? Texting your girlfriend?" Mickey teased as he closed the gas tank and hopped in with a coffee balancing in one hand and three different flavors of Gatorade in the other.

"Nothing." Damn, Ian. Like that ain't an obvious lie.

"Ain't nothing, lemme see." Mickey took Ian's phone and dropped the Gatorades on his lap.

"Ouch! Well, thanks -- for these -- but give me my phone back!"

"Is that me?"

No sense in lying now. He was literally looking at it. "Uh, yeah. Thought it looked cool."

"That's dope as fuck, man. Send that shit to me, I wanna post it on my Instagram."

Ian certainly hadn't expected that response. But when had Mickey ever been what he expected?

"I don't have your number." And he wasn't asking for his number like some school girl. Mickey had literally requested he send him something. Ian had no idea why he felt so ridiculously nervous.

"Gimme." Mickey made grabby hands for the phone and began to plug in his number before Ian realized that this definitely counted as distracted driving in a very nice car. "Done."

Done.

--

The morning and afternoon went by pretty quickly. Mickey sang along to some pop songs while drumming his hands on the steering wheel. Ian took some photos of the inside of the car, earning some light teasing from Mickey. Shut up, this might be my only time in a car worth more than ten grand.

Ian watched the highway and the grass blurring past his window when he suddenly remembered the small notepad and pen he had swiped from Mickey's hotel room.

Mickey looked pretty distracted, so Ian took it out and began to sketch his profile. The man was too beautiful. He couldn't help himself. With a burst of confidence, he added a note to it before ripping the page out and sticking it in the side pocket of Mickey's back pack. If Mickey saw him, he didn't say anything -- for once -- and Ian was glad for that.

--

They were nearing Illinois state lines, so they had to get into travel specifics. Ian gave him the address to his apartment. Both being Southside, Mickey knew the area well enough that he wouldn't need directions until last minute.

Ian figured now was as good as time as any to ask, "What are you doing in Chicago?"

Mickey made a face like he was thinking about how much he wanted to explain to Ian. "Well, for one, I live there. Second, you've seen my tattoos right?" He held out his knuckles reading FUCK U-UP. Ian nodded and Mickey relaxed one hand back onto the steering wheel before continuing, "Tattoos were a family ritual. I help my brothers on runs when they need it -- those idiots can't plan for shit by themselves. Makes good money though. I also work part-time at this high-end restaurant downtown. Satisfies my sister that I have a legit job. Ain't too bad either. Lotta sketchy shit goes on, though, but they know I'm good to look the other way for a low low price." He grinned.

"Damn, you sure are something," Ian mused.

"Yup yup. What about you hot-shot? What's the whole deal with this interview?"

Ian sighed. "Never finished high school and uh, I have a mood disorder thing so a lot of places won't even consider me. Got fired from my last job for snapping at the dickhead manager --which was well-deserved by the way -- but still stupid. My sister, Fiona, got me this interview with the magazine company she works for -- she thinks I'm so sick like our mother and that if I don't have a job to keep me stable that I'll just fuck off. But the job would be really cool because I've been into photography and shit since like forever. I don't know, it's stupid. But I really just can't stand to let anyone down again, because I am better. They just don't always believe me."

Mickey frowned, and Ian worried he shared too much. But then Mickey rested his hand on Ian's thigh, "Hey, man. That sounds cool. But it's okay to not be okay. Just be honest with me, and I believe you. Promise?"

"Promise."

--

Ian's apartment was in sight before he knew it. It was starting to get dark out, but he would still be able to get a good night's sleep before his interview in the morning. Mickey's car definitely did not belong in his neighborhood. It stood out like a sore thumb. He couldn't stay for long if he wanted to leave with the car in tact.

Mickey helped Ian get his suitcase out of the backseat and then leaned against the car, watching Ian with a strange look in his eye. Before Ian could ask, Mickey stalked over to him and leaned up, and pressed his lip's against Ian's. He smelled so sweet. It wasn't the eucalyptus shampoo either -- that had long faded. This was just pure Mickey. Mikhailo.

The moment was over too soon and Ian groaned. Mickey gently patted his cheek, "Don't worry, big guy, you ain't gettin' rid of me this easy. I'll see you soon."

"Soon." Ian repeated back, still a bit dazed in the head.

Mickey smirked as he hopped back into the jaguar and sped off to wherever the fuck it is that Mickey goes.

Ian lugged his bag upstairs, unlocked his door, and plopped down on the couch.

Soon.

--

After texting Fiona one last time, Ian had turned his phone off to avoid any distractions. Giving in to the urge to text Mickey would definitely be a distraction. He needed routine. At least for tonight.

It was a relatively quiet night in terms of activities. He had microwaved a frozen dinner and watched a couple episodes of Schitt's Creek before taking his meds, brushing his teeth, and heading to bed.

No matter how chill of a night he was planning on having, his mind kept racing with thoughts of Mickey with everything he did. That man was so cool and funny and kind, even if he didn't believe it himself. Ian didn't know what exactly had caused such a reign of self-doubt over him, but they would talk about it someday. Ian wanted him to see how good he was. Mickey just brought long-vanished excitement to Ian's life again. He trusted him and cared for him. And he missed him. They had only spent two days together, but Ian couldn't imagine sleeping without him. He drifted off to sleep thinking about what Mickey would look like in his bed with him.

Ian had gotten up at his first alarm for once and arrived to the interview 15 minutes early. He was genuinely passionate about this job so it was easy to turn up his charm. He would hear a call back later that afternoon, but given that he was pretty sure Fiona was sleeping with his would-be boss's boss, he was almost certain he would get the job.

Ian finally turned his phone on when he got home. One message from Fiona -- reminding him of the interview. But more importantly, three from Mickey. He immediately clicked on Mickey's name, absolutely no use in playing it cool anymore. He couldn't get him out of his head.

Mickey (9:27pm): *image attachment*

Mickey (9:27pm): found this in my bag, i wonder how it got there🤔

Mickey (7:32am): good luck at your interview! hope it was worth literally dragging your ass across the country for

Ian smiled.

Ian (10:06am): I have absolutely no idea how that drawing got there. Maybe trolls? 😇

Ian (10:07am): And your luck helped! I think the interviewer liked me :)

Mickey (10:07am): hopefully he didnt like you too much

Ian (10:09am): SHE liked me a very healthy amount.

Mickey (10:10am): gonna keep it that way

Ian (10:12am): 🙄 Oh Mick. Can't be jealous over something you don't have.

Mickey (10:15am): i have you right where i want you dont you worry your pretty little head

Ian (10:17am): So you think I'm pretty is what I'm hearing?

Mickey (10:18am): i think your annoying go away

Ian (10:19am): I thought I couldn't get rid of you that easy?

Mickey (10:19am): changed my fucking mind

--

Their texting banter came to a halt when Mickey picked up a shift at his legitimate job. Ian unpacked his ratty old suitcase and cleaned up his apartment while he waited for his phone to ring. From the job... from Mickey.

--

Right when he was switching loads of laundry, his phone rang. It would be a lie if he said he didn't drop everything and run.

It was his new boss him on his new job. He couldn't hold back his grin as he immediately texted Mickey, then Fiona. He was proud of himself.

Fiona called and they chatted about the job -- omitting the part where he assumed she was sleeping with the boss -- and Ian's road trip -- omitting the part where he kissed his once assumed kidnapper -- and then about Fiona's kids and Carl's lately stunt. He was so invested in his little criminal brother that he almost didn't hear the knock at his door.

"Fi, I gotta call you back. I think I have a delivery or something." Ian wasn't expecting anything.

Ian nearly leapt backwards when he cautiously opened his door (there were no damn peepholes in his building) to find Mickey waiting on his doormat with a grin on his face. "Congrats on the job, man!"

"Oh my God. You're here?"

"Yeah, I told you I would see you soon. I'm a man of my word. And I brought cupcakes." Always the unexpected. "Well minus one. I didn't know which apartment was yours and I went to your neighbor's first and he wouldn't tell me where you lived without a fuckin' cupcake. Greedy asshole." He murmured, quietly smiting the old bastard.

"Mickey." Ian smiled, eyes crinkling with it. "You're good. You're so good."

[alwaysmychoices]

7, 8, 14 and 23 from the otp asks please❤️ I enjoyed a lot the nsfw ask so I thought to ask you a different one😉 I can’t wait for more Charlie x Ethan content from you 🥺🥺

OTP ASKS

7. Write a ~300 word love scene for them. (this is a little longer, but I think it's super cute)

PAINT

“Do you think we got too many?” Ethan asked, the wrinkles in his forehead emphasizing the tension in this decision.

“I’m not sure if we got enough,” Charlie murmured, moving back to stand alongside him.

They stared ahead to appreciate their options, and they gave it the same level of concentration and appreciation they would have given a life-altering decision for a patient.

And in a way, maybe this was just as important to them, though very few people would have agreed. Because they were really just deciding on paint colors for the living room in the home they’d just bought.

In front of them, there were swatches of blues, greys, beiges, and greens (and a yellow that Ethan didn’t even remember picking out). Too many options, to be honest, but somehow none of them were right.

This wasn’t the first home they’d shared together, but it was the first home they’d bought and decorated together. Combining their belongings – and effectively their lives – into one townhouse was a big deal. A big deal that apparently began with being overwhelmed by paint.

“I like the blue,” Charlie said.

Ethan nodded.

“And the grey,” she frowned.

Ethan also nodded.

“And the green,” she sighed in defeat.

Ethan paused and regretfully announced, “I like the beige, too.”

Charlie’s eyes darted to his with a look of outrage. There was no way they were going to get hung up on the simplest task of this entire move. It was a paint color!

“I have an idea,” she said quickly, rushing to the wall before Ethan could say anything else. She picked up a paint brush and the sample paint can as she said, “Let’s just make the swatches bigger. Then, we can decide.”

Ethan almost told her that there was no guarantee that this would make the decision any easier, but he was just as eager to make a selection as she was. So, he grabbed a brush and worked on a swatch. They worked in silence for a few minutes before Charlie excitedly called Ethan’s attention.

“Look!” she spun around, pointing at the grey she’d fallen in love with. Without thinking, Ethan turned to face her, brush still in hand and got a swipe of green paint across her chest.

Charlie jumped back in shock.

“I’m so sorry!”

She was silent.

He thought she might kill him.

Then, she took her own paint brush and splashed him with grey paint.

He retaliated. Green on her shoulder. Then she put grey on his shirt. He dipped into another can and got yellow on her neck! This went on, forming a mess of paint and laughter. He fought her for her brush, wrapping his arms around her so that he could steal her weapon but she got his instead. So she got two long stripes of paint across his chest before he chased her. He caught her just before she could get out of the living room and picked her up with ease, making her squeal and laugh in surprise. She tried to kick her way free to no avail, so she did the only thing she could think of. With no particular caution, Charlie painted Ethan’s face with grey and green paint, and Ethan gasped in surprise, nearly dropping her.

“How dare you?” he murmured, his voice rich with horror but his eyes glittering with mischief.

She never saw it coming.

He spun her around in his arms so that she faced him, and he covered her face in kisses, making sure she was equally painted. Surprised, she dropped the paint brushes to the hardwood floors – which were luckily protected in plastic to shield them from the upcoming painting.

“Ethan!” she yelled, her nose creased from the strong smell of the paint. His voice roared with laughter, and she could feel the chuckle in his chest.

It was enough to make her laugh as well, not that she wanted him to see.

“I can’t believe you!” she gasped, and Ethan smiled as he kissed her again.

“We should hire a decorator,” he murmured, gently setting her down and looping his arms around her waist.

“Oh thank God,” Charlie relaxed.

“But…” Ethan paused, and Charlie innocently looked up at him, waiting patiently for him to continue.

In a flash, Ethan bent down to retrieve both paint brushes, and he painted her t-shirt with grey paint, teasing, “You look better in the grey!” Then, he took off towards the rest of the paint.

Charlie gasped and narrowed her eyes as she yelled, “I’m going to get you!”

8. What were their first impressions of each other?

Total opposite of each other.

Ethan thought Charlie was rough around the edges – a bit unpolished, unprofessional, and unexperienced – but promising. He told her everything she did wrong when they first met (and basically every time they interacted from then on), and he even complained to Naveen about Charlie’s mistakes. But beneath his searing sarcasm and irritation, Ethan admired her potential and respected her for it. Frankly, he had no idea he was even being rude. He thought she was such a good doctor that she needed his attention.

Did he share this respect and appreciation for her skill? No. So, Charlie thought he was an asshole. An incredibly talented, intelligent asshole but still. Had he not been her best learning resource during residency, she would have avoided him all together.

14. What would be a dealbreaker?

I already answered that question here , and I still feel pretty confident in that answer.

The only “dealbreakers” really left for them are:

Their own ability to make this work (i.e. can they stay? Can they go through the hard times? If not, that’s dealbreaker, but even then, I could see them trying again just as they have in the past)

Not wanting the same things in life like family, commitment, work/life balance, etc.

Betrayal/infidelity

Not supporting the other’s career or passions (or their decisions to take time off like we saw in With and Without)

23. Write a ~300 scene between them with no dialogue, only body language.

The meeting had gone on too long. Ethan had told her it would, but his wife had just shrugged it off. Nothing they could do about it, she said. If they wanted to receive more funding for the free clinic, they’d have to charm the donors somehow. Still, a formal dinner with the donors and hospital admins seemed like unnecessary torture.

Ethan glanced over at his Charlie – beautiful as ever in a silk slip dress and her curls tied in a elegant knot above her head. She was smiling as she spoke to the donor next to her, but Ethan immediately knew it was just the polite kind she used when she didn’t want to admit that she was miserable. She fidgeted in her chair, not enough that anyone noticed but enough that Ethan knew she was restless.

He smiled to himself, feeling somewhat vindicated that he wasn’t the only one not having a good time.

Just as he did, there was a lull in the conversation, and Charlie’s eyes passively surveyed the table. When she saw her husband looking at her, she offered an exhausted sigh with a tiny smile of resignation to survive the rest of the night.

Recognizing her discomfort, Ethan shared a discrete look of sympathy. Then, with far too much enthusiasm, he raised his eyebrows in the direction of the door. An invitation to leave, if she wanted it.

Charlie’s eyes narrowed, and she pursed her lips with an air of disappointment.

Of course, she wouldn’t go, he thought. Ethan groaned internally, even more so because he knew she was right to stay. He raised his glass just enough that she could see it but not enough that others would know it.

She raised hers in return, and they both took a drink to prepare themselves for the rest of their night. She gave him a half smile, an apology of sorts for making him stay. He shrugged like he knew she was right, which of course she was. Then, she gave him a real smile - not like the one she'd given the donor earlier. A smile she gave when she was happy, when she wanted Ethan to know she loved him. Because she did. She really did....

[ineverlookavvay]

hole in one (1/3)

Alex and Michael try to go mini-golfing, but their evening goes in a much sexier direction...

Fill for Kinktober Day 2: sex toys under clothes 

Read it on Ao3

“Are you sure this is what you want to do?”  Michael asked, as they climbed out of Alex’s car and walked skeptically towards the mini golf place—the out of town mini golf place.  Well, Michael was skeptical, at least.  

“Yes,” Alex said, turning around and regarding Michael with a smile, “we do.  We agreed: one normal-people date, instead of just holing up in a bedroom like we do every night.”

“Hey, don’t knock the bedroom, those are some of my favorite dates,” Michael replied, raising an eyebrow.  He’d thought when Alex suggested a normal date he was joking, that ‘mini golf’ was a euphemism or something, and not a chintzy collection of structures surrounded by the out of place bright green of fake grass.  And he’d prepared, for their normal “date” format, and now, with his jeans scratching across the base of the butt plug with every step he took, that felt a little less family friendly than Alex’s choice of venue.

“Let’s just get through a few hours doing something normal, and then we can drive right back to the bedroom,” Alex said, pulling Michael’s arm to get him to walk faster, then frowning when Michael hissed and stumbled over his own feet.  “Are you okay?”

Michael swallowed—being pulled had the effect of jolting the plug inside him, and yeah, it was definitely not family friendly.  “Oh, absolutely.”  He smiled winningly and gestured to the little hut at the edge of the parking lot.  “Let’s get this over with.”  

Alex grinned, and stepped up to pay while Michael tried to ignore how full he felt, how ready he was for Alex’s cock, which was the entire idea and apparently was now not an option for however long it took to mini golf.  Michael took a deep breath, trying to look invested when Alex handed him a little blue golf club and a matching golf ball.  

“This will be fun,” Alex reassured him, squeezing his hand.  Michael wasn’t so much worried about not liking mini golf—he would do just about anything Alex wanted for a date, and enjoy it because Alex enjoyed it—but moreso worried about how he was going to keep from throwing Alex down on the astroturf and fucking him right there in front of all the well-to-do families. 

“Okay, so I’ll go first?”  Alex didn’t wait for an answer, but dropped his ball on the ground and leaned over, his hand gripping the handle of the little golf club.  Michael licked his lips, trying not to focus on the way Alex was sticking out his ass like an invitation, the way his fingers wrapped and flexed around the club, just the way Michael wanted them wrapped around his cock.   

Alex’s golf ball slid easily down the turf to the hole, and he looked back at Michael expectantly.  Right, mini golf—not sex.  Michael dropped his golf ball down and tried to mimic Alex’s positioning, gripping the club and bending over.  

Michael inhaled sharply.  With how tight his jeans were, bending over pressed the plug deeper into him.  He tried to shift his position, and it just shifted the plug, rubbing against his prostate.  Michael bit back a moan and tightened his grip on the golf club as he swung weakly at the ball.  

It still made it, and Alex beamed at Michael when he straightened up, as they moved to the next golf hole.  Alex swung again, wriggling his ass at Michael in what Michael assumed was supposed to be cute, but he was getting worked up enough that the sight went straight to his cock.  Michael discreetly tried to adjust himself, wishing he’d had the forethought to at least wear something under his jeans. 

Alex stepped back and Michael dropped his ball and bent to swing again, again filled with the sharp, full sensation of the plug shifting against him.  He hesitated, and Alex seemed to read this as hesitance about the mechanics of the stupid game, because he was suddenly directly behind Michael, pressing up against him and leaning over him, wrapping his hands around Michael’s on the club. 

And fuck, Alex’s weight against Michael’s ass in conjunction with the plug was almost unbearably good.  Alex shifted to get a better grip, grinding accidentally against Michael’s ass, pushing and shifting the plug inside him and Michael bit down on another moan.  Michael had the club in a death grip, and Alex’s hands holding firmly over his weren’t helping either.  Michael could feel himself starting to really get hard, and fuck, this was not the place for it.  

He swung at the ball again weakly, and Alex laughed as he pulled away and walked towards their balls.  Michael knew he was walking funny, trying to keep his half-hard cock from rubbing against the front of his jeans, trying to minimize the sensations of the plug rubbing against his prostate in fiery jolts of pleasure with every step he took.  He had to physically restrain himself from grabbing hold of Alex’s hips when he bent over, from rubbing himself against Alex the way he wanted to.  Michael had thought the plug would be fun, a fun surprise—he’d already gotten off once earlier while he worked himself open, imagining the look on Alex’s face—but he hadn’t planned on endlessly teasing himself into oblivion in a public place.

By the sixth hole—out of thirteen, fucking hell—Michael was sweating, his cock resolutely half-hard and his whole body on edge from the constant movement of the plug.  He wanted Alex’s cock inside him, now, and he was starting to think abruptly dragging Alex to the car and getting fucked in the privacy of the tinted back windows was his best option. 

Except that Alex wanted this—the public date, the adoring looks, the normalcy—and Michael thought he could want it, too—he just wanted it on a day when he hadn’t shoved a plug up his ass right beforehand.      

They paused just before hole number seven, waiting for the people in front of them to finish.  

“So, it’s fun, right?” Alex asked, pulling Michael to him for a quick kiss.  This was all so new—this public dating thing, and sure, they’d driven pretty far to get here, because it was hard to shake the desire for anonymity—but it was still nice.  

Michael deepened the kiss instinctively, pulling Alex tightly against him and shuddering at the feel of Alex’s hand on his hip, Alex’s tongue flitting against his.  

“Guerin,” Alex said quietly, pulling away just a little bit and looking at Michael with amusement, “is mini golf turning you on?”

“What?”  Michael frowned—yes, okay, he was hard and more than ready for Alex right now, but being accused of getting aroused by mini golf was just ridiculous.  

“You’re hard,” Alex said against his ear, like that was conclusive. 

“Yeah,” Michael said sarcastically, “I’m super hot for mini golf.  That’s why I didn’t want to come, the little balls just get me so excited.” 

Alex rolled his eyes, and playfully tapped Michael’s ass, pushing him forward, driving the plug into him hard and causing Michael to let out an unavoidable whine.  “Are you okay?” Alex asked quietly, his eyes full of concern, his hand still resting uncertainly on Michael’s ass.

“I’m great—can’t you feel how great I am?” Michael asked hoarsely, pressing back against Alex’s hand so that he could feel the shape of the base of the plug.  He could tell when it clicked, because Alex inhaled roughly and pressed his palm against Michael more intentionally.  

“Are you wearing a fucking toy?”        

Michael grinned, holding back the sounds he wanted to make as Alex pressed against his ass.  “I wanted to be ready for you.” 

Alex groaned, looking torn between being annoyed and being extremely turned on.  “You’ve had that this whole time,” Alex said, a whine tinging his voice, and Michael was willing to bet he was getting hard, too.  Finally. 

“Are you going to hit your ball?”  Michael said facetiously, standing close behind Alex when Alex obediently took his hand from Michael’s ass and went to continue their pretense of playing mini golf.  “I fingered myself open for you earlier,” Michael said quietly against Alex’s ear, “And then I put this in so that when I saw you, I’d be open and ready.  So I could take your cock for the first time tonight right away, so that you could fuck me as soon as you wanted.”

Alex was breathing heavily, and when he tried to swing the club he missed his ball entirely—this was getting more interesting.  Michael felt just as on edge as Alex seemed, the continued pressure and the movement against his prostate and his cock hardening against the denim made all the better by Alex’s reaction.

“But I guess we have to finish, hm—six more holes—here until you can get to my hole,” Michael whispered, and Alex abruptly bent and picked up his ball, gripping the ball and club intensely, and started walking across the middle of the mini golf course.  

“Where are you going?” Michael called after him, before hurrying to catch up.  

“We are getting into the car,” Alex said, when Michael had caught up to him, taking the mini golf equipment out of Michael’s hands and handing them back to the staff person in the little hut at the front.  

“Mini golf not doing it for you?” Michael teased, and Alex glared, grabbing Michael’s hand and pulling him into the parking lot.

There wasn’t anyone around where they’d parked, and when they reached the car, Alex pressed Michael back against the drivers’ side door, kissing him fiercely.  “You,” he said quietly, in between kisses, “are a fucking tease, and I am taking you home immediately.”

Michael nodded enthusiastically.  Pressed between Alex and the firm surface of the car, while Alex kissed him this hard in public, Michael was starting to lose his mind.  “Good plan.”

Alex grinned, palming Michael’s cock discreetly through his jeans for long enough to bring Michael to full hardness, and then pulled away abruptly.  “But I’m going to fuck you once for each mini golf hole we didn’t get to, so I hope you’re prepared for a long night.” 

Michael smiled winningly as he walked around the car.  “You love me.”

Alex’s smile softened.  “I do.”

[unoficialy-married-to-ace-austin]

In the Heart Of the Wolf (WWE College au)

AN- This is my first attempt at a College AU. I hope you like it.

Chapter 1

Ashers POV

'Make a U turn as soon as possible.'

I groan as I look for somewhere to turn around. Forty god forsaken hours in all in the car, and I really needed to get out and stretch my legs. I probably should have sooner, but I wanted to get here as soon as I could.

'Turn left in 400 feet.'

As I turn I finally see the sign for the college. I saw signs directing cars in where to go, and thankfully there's not a lot of people here as only Freshman have to be here today. As I drove I looked around and saw it was a pretty nice campus, not that I knew what any of the buildings were for. I saw a parking lot where lots of other people were, so I took that was where I was supposed to be. I circled the parking lot about 3 times before finding a place to park. Once I did I climbed out of my car, practically falling over as my legs got used to standing.

"Ok, now what?" I whispered to myself looking around. I decided on following the crowd, and wiped some sweat off my forehead. I wasn't really used to being out in the sun a lot, and was dressed in black leggings with jean short shorts, and a black Umbrella Academy sweatshirt. Definitely not Florida summer weather. As I walked I found different tables with letters on idly for last name. "Ok, where is J?" I said to myself looking down the line. Thankfully there was only a few people at that table, so I walked right up.

Two girls were at the table, if I had to guess, they were at least sisters. Both had brown hair and the same face shape, but one had their hair straightened with a tad bit more makeup then the one with curled hair. "Hi! Name please?" The one with straight hair asked. "Oh, um Asher Jackson" I said quickly.

"Nice to meet you Asher. I'm Brie Bella, welcome to Palm Beach University!" The one with curled hair said, or I guess brie. "Found it! Oh, your in our housing unit!" The one with straight hair said. "Oh, I'm Nikki, by the way. Nikki Bella." So they were sisters. "Nice to meet you both." I said shaking there hands. Brie bent over looking for something as Nikki continued to talk. "So at PBU, instead of dorms, everyone gets a housing unit. So there's a group of guys and girls that all live in a big house, you'll get a room and then everyone shares like the kitchen, living area, and so forth." She explained as Brie sat up, holding a bag.

"This is a small gift for all the freshmen. It has a map of the campus, a schedule, your house key, and a few other things." She said hanging me the bag with a smile. "Nikki, text Drew or someone to get over here so they can help her find the house and get her things in." Brie said but Nikki just rolled her eyes. "Already did!" Just then a guy walked up. He was super tall, and had on a leather jacket.

"Hey lassies, what do y'all need?" He asked, his Scottish accent vary obvious. "This is Asher, she's in our house, so I figured you could help her find it and such." Brie said looking down to write something down. "Oh! I almost forgot, Asher, the house is 402. Drew will show you it." She said smiling up at me. I nodded and turned to the larger man. "Lead the way." He said motioning forward.

I walked quickly to my car, Drew following right behind me. Once at the car I turned to look at him. "You don't have to show me, I'm sure I'll find it eventually." I say quickly. "Don't worry about is dear, don't really have anything better to do. Sophomores don't have to be here until tomorrow." He said shrugging. "Do you want to drive and have me tell you where to go, or should I drive?" He asked.

"How about I let you drive and kidnap me." I said smiling a bit. He looked shocked for a moment before chuckling. "Your going to be fun, get in the car, I'll tell you where to go." After driving for about 5 minutes, he pointed at a large Blue house. "That's the one." I parked and popped the trunk so I could start to unload. I took two suitcases and drew grabbed two boxes. "There's probably someone in there that can grab the last of your things." He said walking up to the door, giving me no real choice but to follow him.

The door was propped open and we walked in. It lead right into a large living room with a L shaped couch. On my left I could see the dining room and past that was a kitchen. The whole thing was vary open, so if you're ere in the living room you could talk to someone in the kitchen. On the couch there were a few boys sitting playing video games. Two had long flowing black hair and one had short reddish brown hair. "Reigns, Rollins, Ambrose! Get off your asses and help this lovely girl get moved in!" Drew yelled at the boys. After pausing there game, the got up walked over to great us.

"You must be the one taking Natalias room." One of the boys with brown hair said. Now up close I could see one had brown hair and the other had more black. "Natalia moved?" Drew asked sounding surprised. "Ya, apparently all of us are 'Just to much!'" The one with reddish brown hair said making his voice squeaky to mock whoever Natalia is. He then turned to look at me. "You don't mind to much right?" He asked eyebrow raised.

"Most people use that word to describe me." I say smiling, making all four of them laugh. "She's a keeper." The one with Black hair said. He had a significantly lower voice then the rest of them.

"Well, I guess I can show her to her room, will you three go and grab the last of her things?" Drew asked. "Oh! They don't have to. I can make a few trips, it's no problem." I say trying to cut in, but the guy with Brown hair shakes his head. "Na. A beautiful girl like you shouldn't have to get her own things. We've got it, it's kinda the reason we're here a day early." He said before all three walked outside.

"Come on, your room is up on the third floor." Drew said already walking up the stairs. "Men are on the second floor, women on third. There's a communal bathroom on each floor, and the bottom floor has kitchen, living room, and a few extra rooms for rec activities and such. Out back is a pretty big yard, not much is set up, but tomorrow the rest of the people that live here should be here." He explains as we walk up the steps. I have no idea how he's walking up the steps, carrying two large boxes, and talking so much.

Once on the third floor he walks me down the hall. "That door is the bathroom, you share it with 9 other girls. And this is your room!" He said stopping at the last door in the hall. He balanced the boxes in one hand and opened the door. The room was pretty nice, an empty bed, a desk and chair, bookshelf, and dresser on each side of the room. There was a large window with a nice view of the campus. "Ok, the other three should be up here with your things. Um, they don't really care what you do with the room, make it yours. But don't like, paint the walls, or destroy the place. Your roommate will probably be here tomorrow. Any questions?"

I was a bit frazzled by all the information, but I did have one question. "So counting me, there's 10 girls in the house, and I'm guessing there's 10 boys, so..... 20 people live here?" I questioned. I was exactly shy, but I didn't LOVE people ether. And by how they all talk to each other they all clearly know each other. "Ya, but don't worry about it. You would be shocked by how empty the place can be. Plus, everyone gets along, and if anyone gives you shit, you've got a big scary dude to set them straight." He joked pointing at himself.

"I think you mean 4, but I can understand your mistake." I turn to see the three boys walking in. Some how they got all my shit in the house in one go. "Ya, I'm sure they'll be afraid of you Rollins." Drew said rolling his eyes. "Now, we should leave this fine girl be, she has things to do." He said walking out. I stoped the other three before they could. "I didn't catch your names." I pointed out.

"Seth Rollins." The one with brown hair said shaking my hand. "I'm Roman Reigns." The one with a deep voice said. "And that's Dean Ambrose." Roman said motioning over to the one with reddish brown hair who nodded to me. "Well, I'm Asher Jackson. Nice to meet all three of you." I say. They don't stick around to long and I turn to look at all the boxes I needed to unpack.

"This is the shity part." I mumble opening the first one. The first few boxes had clothes in it, and because I fold all my clothes except really nice things, it goes relatively quickly. Then I start to get to my personal items. I have a few pictures I put up of my family, and I put all my school supplies on the desk. I put everything I want on walls in a pile, I'll have to go to the story latter to get things to hang it up with, and I put my sheets on the bed. I set my Guitar in the corner of the room out of the way, not sure how much I'll use it. "Now, is there a target near by?" I ask myself turning my phone on and opening google maps. Luckily there was one about 5 minutes from campus.

I walk downstairs keys in hand planing on just a quick run to the store. "Hey Asher!" I turn to see Rollins in the kitchen a cup in his hand. "Where you off to?" He questioned taking a drink of the liquid I am choosing to believe is water. "Target. Need to get a few things." I say brushing some of my hair out of my face. "Mind if I come? This house has no food in it yet, and there's no way in hell Im listening to Ambrose complain about no food all night." I chuckle at him but nodded. He smiled and started to follow me out when a voice stopped us.

"Where you two sneaking off to?" Dean called from the couch. "Target ." Seth called back. Dean practically jumped over the couch at that. "Dude, I wanna come! You in Reigns?" Roman looked up from his phone with his eyebrow raised.

"Your joking right? I refuse to go to Target with you two ever again." He said shanking his head. I looked at the two of them a bit nervous. "Hold up. Red flag, why won't he go to Target with you guys?"

"Don't listen to him Asher, man doesn't know what he's talking about." Dean said pulling me by my shoulder towards the door. "He's just mad that me and Rollins know how to make a shopping trip fun." He said as walked to my car. I heard Roman yell a 'good luck' from in the house.

"You better not do anything stupid...." I mumbled getting in the car.

————————————————

"Ok, go get what you guys need.Ill get what I need." I said as we walked into the building. I turned to look at the two of them, but they already had a cart and were rushing towards the food section.

I chuckled as I picked up a basket and went to look for what I needed. I ended up grabbing some thumb tacks and command strips. I was now standing in the hair dye section. I had dark brown hair, just like my brothers, and had wanted to dye it for a while now. What better time then the first week of college.

"Hey! You need any help?" I turned to see a girl with bleach blonde hair and pink highlights.

"I think I'm good. Just..... thinking about trying something new." I said shrugging. Her face lit up at that as she jumped up and down.

"Can I help you? I've been dyeing my hair since I was like 10!" She explained happily.

"Um... I guess?" I said a bit uneasy.

"Oh! My names Alexa! What's yours?" She said sticking out her hand. I shook it lightly before pulling my hand back.

"Asher..."

"Nice to meet you Asher. What color were you thinking?" She asked motioning to the different boxes of hair dye.

"Not sure. Maybe a green or something." I said shrugging.

"Ok. Personally I think this one would go best with your skin tone and such, but we have a few other kinds you could try." She explained handing me a few different boxes. I ended up choosing the one she suggested.

"Thanks for the help." I said trowing it into my basket.

"No problem." She said giving me a smile before walking away. I wandered the store a bit looking for Seth and Dean, picking up a few random snacks as I did.

"Asher!" I turned to see Seth running and pushing the cart, with dean sitting in the cart, boxes of frozen pizza, ice cream, and beer were piled on top of him.

"Oh my god....." I whispered walking up to them. "W- I, Why?" I asked speechless motioning to the cart.

"Because why not." Dean said a big smile on his face. "Did you get what you needed?"

"Oh ya. I'm ready to go if you are." I said as we began to walk towards the front to check out.

"Hair dye?" Seth asked noting what was in my basket.

"Ya. I figured new school new me." I said shrugging.

"Great, you two." I looked up surprised to see the cashier glaring daggers into Seth and Dean. She wasn't quite short, but not tall ether. Her blond hair, from what I could tell, went to her mid back area, and the tips were dyed pink a bit like Alexas.

"Nice to see you too Natie." Seth mumbled putting his things up on the counter to be scanned.

"Your Natalia?" I asked remembering the name from earlier. She turned to me as though just realizing I was there.

"Um... ya. Who are you?"

"Asher Jackson. I'm moving into your old room." I explained.

"Oh, good luck. The people there are horrible! None of them know how to take anything seriously."

"We take things seriously, just not you." Dean mumbled making Natalia glare at him once again.

"Says the guy in a shopping cart. Let me just ring you up so you can get out of here sooner." She snapped. She quickly rang the boys up, then myself before practically shoving us out the store.

Once we were in the car I looked over at Seth who was next to me. "She's, quite the personality."

"You can say that." Seth chuckled as he buckled up and I started the car.

"What caused you guys to clearly hate each other?" I asked curiously. My parents always said that was my down fall. 'Curiosity killed the cat' they always said.

"You'll never meet a girl with a stick shoved so far up her ass or a silver spoon shoved so far down her throat." Dean said from the back, making Seth chuckle.

"You really shouldn't say that Dean." He mumbled making dean sit up a bit in his seat.

"Why? We both know daddy put the spoon down her through. I'm honestly surprised that she is actually working a job."

"I'm sorry, what am I missing?" I asked as I drove.

"Her dad is a pretty big alumni, she gets away with a lot in's school, expects everything to go her way," Seth explained.

"The only person who might get away with more is Orton." Dean said, as though that name meant something, and apparently it did because Seth sighed.

"Randy's not nearly as bad as you thin-"

"He left you like a you were a pile of shit Seth, quote defending him." Dean snapped, making me shift in my seat.

"Whatever." Seth mumbled turning his body towards the window so he wouldn't have to look at us. This was going to be an interesting year.

[itsbenedict]

Two-Faced Jewel: Session 1-B

(Part B, for length- see Part A first.)

Zero and @eternalfarnham are Looseleaf and Saelhen du Fishercrown, a mothfolk animist and a half-elf conwoman whose travels take them to Blacksky University, where the discovery of an unknown magical artifact sets them on the path to discovering the secrets of a shattered world.

Saelhen du Fishercrown has just involuntarily bonded with a magical bracer under false pretenses. The deans of the School of Natural Arts and the School of Arcane Arts have reached a compromise- send Looseleaf (equipped with a wand of Locate Object) to keep an eye on her. None of this bodes well for her plan to skip town and pawn the thing- if she doesn't follow the magical arrow, it's going to be hard to explain.

So... she figures she might as well find out where it's pointing, and see if there's a way to remove it and/or shake her tail at the end.

Saelhen du Fishercrown:Saelhen is best served by seeming a bit silly, here. So I think she's going to follow the arrow directly and just straight-up cross over the fences. Looseleaf:Looseleaf fidgets a bit. "I mean, honor has to tarry for things like, classes, and stuff, occasionally, right?" "Not to mention, you still, like, need to do a whole interview." "And you can't just- like, at the least I'd want to get the campus news department involved, y'know, put this in the news and stuff, right?" Saelhen du Fishercrown:"I will be proud to answer any questions you have as we go, Madam Looseleaf." Saelhen approaches the campus fence and begins to struggle over it. Looseleaf:Looseleaf is only vaguely sure that this campus has anything like a newsletter, but something about this lady's insistency on walking off into the sunset as quickly as she can is making Looseleaf's antennae twitch, a little bit. "Uhhhhhh," Looseleaf says. "Okay, sure, then."

They take a pretty direct route to where the arrow's pointing. On the way, Looseleaf puts the screws to Saelhen by poking at her cover story.

Saelhen continues to roll crazy good on Deception, vs Looseleaf's History, and Looseleaf can't find any fault in Saelhen's staggeringly-detailed hand-calligraphied forgery.

Benedict I. (GM): So- it seems like this was written by someone who's at least read A Flawless History of the Elven Peoples cover to cover. There aren't any obvious contradictions, and a lot of supporting details- it's hard to believe someone could've just made all this up. Looseleaf: But, okay, wow, Looseleaf is... absolutely engrossed in this book. This is the good stuff. Benedict I. (GM): You're familiar enough with the vagaries of the biographical tradition that there could easily be creative reinterpretations or doctored facts in here, but you don't have any way to distinguish them from reality. Saelhen du Fishercrown: Saelhen keeps up a running commentary while they walk. Looseleaf: But presumably there is no mention of any kind of accession ritual? Saelhen du Fishercrown:Jack nothing! Looseleaf:And definitely nothing along the lines of a stone bracer being involved in some kind of ancestral spirit worship ritual.

Yeah, something's fishy here. But it's a long book, and it takes a long time to read, and before Looseleaf can get through it, the arrow starts to swerve.

The bracer seems to have lead them to Yoshimimoto Plaza, a wide pavilion in the middle of a ring of government buildings owned by the Oyashio Port Authority- the city's secular government. Saelhen recognizes the design as remarkably similar to the floor of the Ryokou Temple in Kanzentokai.

The Ryokou Temple, hundreds of years ago, was once a great hub of teleportation, where travelers from all over the world came and went. Thanks to teleportation magic, the concept of "cities" and "nations" and "regional governments" didn't make a lot of sense back then, and the world was something of a fragmentary monoculture featuring several different competing governments- distributed governments which claimed authority over their members, not over geographical territories.

(If you've read anything of the Terra Ignota series, they were basically like the hives.)

Two or three centuries ago, though, something called the Blackout occurred. Teleportation magic suddenly failed- planar travel broke, as did the teleportation hubs in each of the world's major cities. Suddenly, the world was shattered into geographically distant territories, which suddenly had to administer themselves without contact with the rest of the world. The world as it is today was shaped by the effects of this Blackout, and how people rebuilt.

Yoshimimoto Plaza, now an unremarkable empty square, used to be the city's teleportation hub.

Saelhen, following the arrow, touches the bracer to the center of this plaza, and all hell breaks loose.

The bricks underneath them all suddenly fall into a pit, landing about twenty feet down on a squishy surface that yields under the impact. Despite the cushioning, Saelhen takes 5 bludgeoning damage from the fall. (Looseleaf can feather-fall with her moth wings, so she's fine.)

So, what you've landed on... first and foremost, it smells. It smells of mildew and decay, of something sealed up and left to rot. The walls of the pit aren't dirt or stone- you're not sure what they are. They're gray-green and porous, interwoven with what might be vines. The floor has a ton of bricks on top of it, but where those bricks fell unevenly, you can see the floor is a mass of these squishy vines- or maybe tentacles, it's not entirely clear.

What's not fine is the old man who was feeding the pigeons on the plaza, who's broken his legs and is screaming for help. Also not fine are a couple of Oyashio Port Authority guards, who were chatting there and are now very perturbed.

Also not fine are the walls of this pit- they've got holes in them. Holes from which horrible little fleshy winged creatures are crawling:

These bloodsucking fiends claw their way out of the weird porous walls, and begin divebombing people with unholy shrieks.

The party rolls for initiative! Saelhen readies an action to intercept the enemy, and it's a good thing- she downs one of the stirges with a hidden blade when it gets close. (Looseleaf notes how suspicious it is that a noblewoman had a hidden blade up her sleeve.)

Looseleaf uses Rend Spirit on another one- a magical attack that uses animism as a blunt force weapon. The spirit of something is different from its soul- a living thing has a mind, but it also has a spirit, which is just sort of a semi-sentient magical handle on its body and the nature thereof. The spirit of something's muscles says "I want to expand and contract in response to nerve stimuli"- and Looseleaf can tell the muscles "No, you want to snfdkdfrksfjklafdr." The muscles' spirit gets real confused by this and tries to make its physical host do some snfdkdfrksfjklafdr, which makes no sense and results in chaotic flailing and tissue damage. Or, uh, "force damage", D&D's vaguest damage type.

She seizures the other stirge to death, but three more crawl their way out of the walls. Two go for the guards, who call for help and manage to take one down- but the third goes for the defenseless old man. Saelhen whiffs her thrown knife to intercept it, and the stirge buries its proboscis in the man's side and begins to drink.

Looseleaf: Holy shit, this woman is going to get people killed. Her nonsense- and probably confabulated- ancestral quest is going to get people killed.

Saelhen follows up by charging the stirge and slaying it- but four more stirges crawl out of the walls. There's no end to the damn things!

Looseleaf, who has wings, remembers them- and also remembers her starting gear! When do players ever do that? She gets out her 50 ft of rope and drops a rope ladder to help people escape.

The stirges are on the move, though- those not distracted by the guards go for Saelhen and Looseleaf. One of them gets through and impales Saelhen- who only had 6 hit points left after the fall damage, at level 1. It rolls well, and she goes down.

One of the guards grabs the old man and begins climbing out of the pit, just as reinforcements arrive with crossbows- but it's too late for Looseleaf, who gets herself divebombed by a stirge, which beats her AC and latches on. She tries to Rend Spirit it off her, but fails- and its next attack finishes her off. Meanwhile, Saelhen is still down in the pit being fed on, and rolls a critical failure on her first death save, counting as two failures! The party is completely KO'd by these horrible bloodsucking monsters they uncovered.

*

Luckily for them, they went down... in the middle of the administrative center of a highly populated city, surrounded by emergency services personnel who were actively trying to save them. As a result... they wake up in the hospital, not dead.

Looseleaf: "When the inquiries come in, I just want to make it clear, miss du Surplus," Looseleaf says in her hospital bed, "I do not know you and I do not know who you are and I am pretty sure that this is all your fault." Her antennae are swishing furiously, which is moth for 'fuck everything about this'. Saelhen du Fishercrown: "In my defense," says Saelhen, "I have no frigging idea why that bracelet summoned infinite bats, haha." "Ow."

It seems- from the chafing on her wrist- that someone tried to steal the bracer off her arm while she was unconscious, to no avail.

Saelhen du Fishercrown: "If your university wants it back, you're maybe going to have to use a cleaver. Ha ha. You know, I've actually been to places where they chop off your hand for stealing." Looseleaf: "You better hope they don't decide to chop off your arm," apparently Looseleaf's got more of a vindictive bent to her than you'd expect! "You folk only have two arms." Saelhen du Fishercrown: "Gonna be a super dishonorable wound." Looseleaf: "Yeah, we're dispensing with the whole, elegant elf politese thing entirely now, are we." "Not that it exactly made sense for a dignified hyper-polite elf to run around with a dozen daggers tied to them under the robes." Saelhen du Fishercrown: "For what it's worth, if you weren't dogging me so closely, I would have probably screwed off, tried to sell it, found out I couldn't and... I guess left town with the next circus. Amazing halfbreed with bad taste in jewelry." "But it's obviously not your fault, right? No idea your actions would lead to that." "Yeah, the mysterious maiden of the orient thing gets old after a while but so many people buy into it." "I am disowned, though, if it helps."

Saelhen pretty much spills all the beans to Looseleaf- and tries to lay out a plan for how they can both avoid taking the blame for this. Looseleaf is shocked that Saelhen has the audacity to try to keep up the con, after what happened- and horrified at the implication that she was somehow responsible for this.

Looseleaf:"You're thinking of trying to keep up the scam," Looseleaf says in disbelief. "By Harmony, you actually want to double down." Benedict I. (GM):"...suspects, wanted for...!" "...my students..." "...jured patients!" There's an argument happening outside your door. Looseleaf:"Oh, there it is," Looseleaf sighs. She folds her arms and looks up at the ceiling of the hospital room and resigns herself to be utterly annihilated by terrible inexorable fate.

The door opens, and in walks... uh. A nurse? It's a round tiefling woman dressed in... not so much a nurse's outfit as a sexy halloween costume of a nurse's outfit. It's... a lot. She seems to be playing the part of an actual medical professional, though, and after a quick checkup, asks which of their two guests they'd like to speak to first.

Who are these guests? Well, the first one is Provost Hamori, from the school. The drow lady. Something in Looseleaf's moth bones shudders as she enters the room and the trailing of her dress masks a skittering noise.

Luckily for them, the provost is very happy with them! Earth-shattering magical discoveries that unleash hordes of blood-sucking monsters on the populace of the city are not at all occasions to be mourned, in her opinion. There's so much new research to be done! It's exciting!

Plus, apparently, while they were out, refugees crawled their way out of the tentacle-floor in the pit! Supposedly descendants of people who disappeared from the face of the Jewel when the Blackout occurred. They'd managed to survive in that sort of horrible Stranger Things-ass upside-down horror-world for hundreds of years! Very exciting!

Provost Hamori reassures them that everything will be fine, and asks them to tell the truth to the nice police lady who's about to have a friendly chat with them.

Said police lady takes her turn to speak to the hospitalized party.

Benedict I. (GM): "My name is Stella Lastwave. I am captain of the Port Authority city guard. I am required to disclose this information." Then she leans in. "Would the two of you like to tell me what the fuck is happening in my city?" Saelhen du Fishercrown: Good question! Benedict I. (GM): "Dozens of bloodsucking hellmonsters are menacing the citizens, a troop of ultraviolent feral children are wreaking havoc in the streets, and the Yoshimimoto Plaza is a ruined crater of necrotic energy!" "I have fourteen witnesses stating that you walked up to the middle of the plaza with a magic item, touched the ground, and unleashed hell on the innocent citizens of Oyashio!" "You're going to explain what the hell you thought you were doing, right now!" Looseleaf: “Um. It was an accident?” Looseleaf begins, and then hedges, because this intimidating cop lady is intimidating her, and all of her prepared lines of explanation have gone right out the window. Benedict I. (GM): "An accident." "Again."

Captain Lastwave is highly suspicious of Saelhen's story- as the de la Surplus family doesn't exist in any of the shipping records they have for the world's busiest port city. If they're not in the records, they either don't exist, or they're smugglers.

Saelhen du Fishercrown: "We have... fallen on difficult times as of late. It is a stain on our honor that we have failed to contribute to Kanzentokai's glory, I realize." Saelhen sighs. "...it was my hope that I might restore our reputation by completing the succession, when the means were lost to us for so long." Benedict I. (GM): "Yeah? And your 'succession' means siccing demons on a city of innocent people?" Looseleaf: “They just assigned me to her as an anthropology assignment,” Looseleaf babbles. “I was supposed to follow her doing her rite thingy and write it down and turn it in as an essay for my self-directed project.” Whatever the splash radius of this negotiation is going to wind up being, Looseleaf is absolutely making sure that she ends up outside of it. Saelhen du Fishercrown: "Strange are the ways of my ancestors. It is my hope that I will be allowed to serve the free citizens of Oyashio, as I have served those citizens long-imprisoned by the Blackout." Benedict I. (GM): "This is the seventh goddamn evil magic apocalypse that witch up in Blacksky has tried to wipe out Oyashio with! Even when it's not them, it's them, or-" "-what, are you talking about the murdercrazy teenagers running wild in the streets?" Looseleaf: Looseleaf looks at Fishercrown. ”Oh.” Saelhen du Fishercrown: "So I have been told." Looseleaf: "So that’s what the Provost meant by... whoof." "So, ‘we found humans on the other side of the portal’ was definitely a euphemism, huh.”

Thanks to Saelhen once again rolling absurdly high on Deception, Captain Lastwave lets them off with a warning, and leaves. They leave the hospital- or rather, the Temple of Karou, Heartlifter, God of Joy.

as you leave the Temple of Karou, you learn that the Temple of Karou comprises the upper floors of the building, 2 and up the first floor, run by the local bishop of Karou (Vermillion Hansen, the tiefling "nurse" you met) is the Pink Lips Pleasure House- an official government institution funded by the Ecumene of Joy. it is a brothel. the Ecumene of Joy is a little weird.

So with that crisis officially Not Their Fault, Looseleaf and Saelhen return to Blacksky, where the Provost- in exchange for keeping it Not Their Fault- will be having them conduct further research on this bracer- which has sprouted a new arrow, pointing off somewhere to the northeast.

Next session, we'll see what that research entails!

[noragami-ru-manga]

For ease of use, abuse

________________

An unnecessarily long, super biased and very spoiler-y analysis of chapter 87-1 ________________

If this isn’t Father’s motto, I don’t know what is. We’ve already seen him use it on Yato and Mizuchi; seems like it’s Hagusa’s turn.

The chapter starts with Yukine’s memories that we already saw at the trial. Except now that the truth about the mysterious “box” is out, Adachitoka aren’t trying to hide anything anymore – it’s painfully obvious that it’s an old fridge that was thrown away. Haru’s father closes the door and says the last goodbye to his son.

Haru is fixing his sleeve – his arms must be hurting. Is it because they were tied? Or is it from the shots? After all, fans have suggested that he may have been ill for a long time. His bare feet and pajamas indicate that the father probably placed a sleeping boy in the fridge. I have nothing but curse words for this man, so I’ll keep my silence.

The chapter is called “The way to darkness”. Since this month’s half-chapter is only 15 pages long, the second part should be longer; that’s where we’ll see the way to darkness in all its glory.

While nothing scary happens in the chapter, it’s still kind of creepy. Father is being very, very nice to Hagusa. We know what hides behind his smile and fake care, but Hagusa doesn’t. His calling Father “father” isn’t the scariest thing here, ‘cause it can be the effect of kotonoha. But it’s unnerving how fast they have bonded, even though there are reasons for that.

Father says that Hagusa is tired from walking all day. It’s not just the fact that the house is very far from the place where he gave the boy his new name (although that seems to be the case, too) – they must have spent the day before visiting places that Father had seen in Hagusa’s memories. Except none of them did the trick – Hagusa recalled nothing about his past life from being in those places. What’s so special about the locations is hard to tell – they seem to be a 1) café, 2) probably a school, and 3) a neighborhood where Haru used to live.

And of course, the house. The building being so run-down that it’s scheduled to be demolished is not particularly surprising – who knows when it was built. The thing that interests me is its location. A house in such a close proximity to the railway is not a nice place to live in. People settle for those when they don’t have better options. In other words, Haru’s family was poor; which is nothing new, it has already been suggested by the fans, I believe. Although Father says it’s Haru’s final place of residence. Maybe the family had to move in there from a nicer house.

Haru’s memories are fragmented because they are 35 years old. Can we trust Father’s words just like that? Of course not, it’s Father we’re talking about. But I think that’s it’s one of those cases where he wouldn’t benefit much from lying, so he tells the truth. And even if there was some other reason for Hagusa’s memories to be fragmented like that, Father probably could have bent it as he pleased. For example, if it had something to do with Hagusa being part-ayakashi, he could have said “I’m sorry, but some of your memories disappeared when you started transforming. I did everything in my power to keep as much as I could”. But turning into an ayakashi is usually accompanied (or rather, caused) by an influx of memories, not their loss. Conclusion: Father isn’t lying, and we’ll come back to this.

Some of the partial memories that Father saw are: a letter, this time addressed to the sister; a symbol on a building (school?) – a flower; Haru’s father’s face; a door handle. That’s doesn’t seem to be a lot of information, but… If you’d hoped that somehow Father didn’t get to see Haru’s last moments, then I’m sorry to disappoint you. The lighting on Haru’s father’s face seems to be similar to the one in Yukine’s memories from the trial / the beginning of the chapter, so it’s probably the same memory. Father saw it, and he’s planning to use it to his advantage.

Apparently, there’s a minor translation error on the top left frame. Hagusa’s facial expression doesn’t match the phrase, and the speech bubble isn’t coming from him. It’s Father suggesting that he plays a game of finding his real name somewhere in the house, which Hagusa happily agrees to do. What Father’s doing with this little “treasure hunting” game reflects the bigger picture: he’s nudging Hagusa to look for answers about the boy’s past without actually causing any suspicions towards his intentions. What can I say, Father loves giving his kids something to play with; ask Yato, he’ll confirm that.

Hagusa discovers his nickname from when he was alive – Haru – near some height marks that belonged to him and his older sister Yuka. The smallest number that has Haru written beside it is 3 (years). It means that even if the family moved here from a nicer house, it had happened long before the boy’s death. The names Yuka and Haru are written over semi-erased names of some other children. It isn’t at all surprising, since the house is very old.

So the name Haru was useless to Father’s plan after all, since it turned out to be a nickname. For the next three pages he’s quietly seething, trying to understand why Hagusa is so happy to learn little bits of his past. Maybe Father is comparing him to Mizuchi who (until recently) has been always so reserved (too reserved) when it came to her being dead. Or maybe it has to do something with Father thinking that all humans are monsters whose real appearance starts to show when they are nudged in the right direction. In stark contrast to that idea, Hagusa is simply happy to learn that he had a sister, and a home, and the cutest nickname.

Father’s words about giving Hagusa a little push to discover the truth on his own are pretty interesting. It means that he’d planned that by this point, the boy would start getting angry at the life he could have lived. But something went wrong, so Father has to revise the plan on the go.

Hagusa asks a reasonable question: if Yato never told him anything, why is Father being so nice to him – giving him a tour, playing “treasure hunting” with his name as the treasure? Father’s answer is… intriguing.

Father manages to tell a truth and a lie within the same sentence. Hagusa, for example, finds the answer honest and not needing any further prying, so he happily goes on a walk around his neighborhood in hopes of finding someone who knew him when he was alive. And technically, the things Father says aren’t a lie. What he’s been revealing so far can hurt Hagusa, and he does trust that the boy will be able to survive. However, he’s withholding the most important part – what is this all about. His words aren’t a lie. but his intentions are.

Hagusa recalls something while looking at the door but is distracted by the ayakashi wolf. I originally assumed that the door itself could have somehow reminded him of the dreaded fridge, but the thing that actually caught his attention is obviously the door handle. It’s the same one that appeared in the bits of memories that Father saw when naming him. I’ve already made a separate post about that door handle, but I’ll repeat it here anyway. So here are a couple of things why it could have appeared in the fragments of memories that Father’s received.

1) Haru’s father was abusive to the point where the boy would be afraid to come home. So he would just stand at the front door looking at the handle, too afraid to pull.

2) Some kind of trauma could have occurred. Haru could have fallen on the handle and got an injury, either by accident or with the help of his father.

This last page shows that Father’s intentions are very serious. He’s done being the game master; he’s going to be a full-fledged player from now on and will be actively involved in the further events – and for that, he needs Hagusa. Up until this point, despite Yato’s concerns that Father was a bit too flattering when talking about Yukine, I assumed that Father only needs Yukine as a pawn; a hostage of sorts that could be used to bring Yaboku back to his “loving family”. However, Yato made it clear that that’s out of question when he tried to kill his father in earnest. So now Father has another plan – to turn Hagusa into an unbelievably strong weapon; and the one wielding it will be him, not Yato. Except Hagusa’s buoyancy has been ruining this plan so far.

As for the fragmented memories that I’ve promised to return to, I really believe that Father wasn’t lying and has only seen bits and pieces of Haru’s life, not the whole thing. It has to do something with the boy being a sudama when he was first named and not a regular ghost, like Daikoku, for example. Nora said it in the previous chapter that when Haru’s memories were intact, he had a form of a person. It means that he either started turning into a sudama after his memories began to fade, or, conversely, started losing his memories because he began turning into a sudama.

The important thing here is that if Father only saw fragmented memories, then so did Yato. Nothing in the manga suggests that the new master gets fewer of a shinki’s memories than the previous one. When Yato named Kazune, he saw Kiotsugu’s entire life from birth to death – well, maybe not all of it, but definitely the important parts. So I assume that the information Father and Yato got was identical.  

And this shows once again just how much Yato cared about Yukine from the very start. Think about it: throughout this chapter we’ve been getting more and more proof that Father initially wanted to break Hagusa as soon as possible. He dragged the boy around potentially familiar places, urged him to look for his name in the house – nothing. Only after that Father decided to change his tactics and let Hagusa discover the GGS on his own, so he allowed the boy to walk around the neighborhood looking for other clues. But if he needed an immediate result, why not take Hagusa to the place of his death, which was bound to be the best trigger?

Because Father doesn’t know where it is.

Do you see it now? Father, who needed something that would break Hagusa for sure, wasn’t able to figure out the most suiting place from the bits of memories he’d received – or didn’t bother. But Yato did everything in his power to find that damn fridge, only with completely different intentions – to keep Yukine safe from that place and everything that discovering it entails. Who knows how many bridges and dumps he had to visit before finding the right area.

Nevertheless, Hagusa is with Father now, not with Yato where he belongs. As I said, the chapter isn’t frightening – by which I meant “we haven’t been shown more horrifying things from Haru’s life yet”. It’s scary in an entirely different way, because it shows how easily Father was able to earn Hagusa’s trust. He exploited everything. He turned the kid’s natural curiosity into a game – “find your name”, “go talk to the neighbors”. When Hagusa complained that Yato never told him anything, Father didn’t say a single bad word about Yato, didn’t try to turn them against each other. Instead, he focused Hagusa’s attention on himself – how he’s ready to “help” Hagusa, even if it’s dangerous, because he “cares” for him and “trusts” him – the two things Yukine has been missing lately. And the background to all this is his terrible inner monologue: how come a dead person is enjoying his “life”? It should be rectified, and the result should be used to my advantage. For ease of use, abuse.

Get ready; we’re on a path to darkness.

[snarkwrites]

08 | gangsta ; sweet pea

Notes:

SO.. I uhh... Got super into writing this recently. I just really liked where it was heading after part 7. Yes. Yes, I realize that literally no one asked for more of this but.. I wrote it. Might as well share it.

I need to amend what I said about this being non canon compliant. It does mention things that happen in canon. Some of them even.. Happen. But differently. And a little out of order as I saw they fit into my own personal timeline. Also.. I’m gonna throw in some totally of my own creation stuff into here as well. I don’t exactly know what all that’ll be yet, but.. Yeah.

This is the first of four parts I have already written and waiting to go. I know, I know.. Literally no one asked for this. But you’re getting it anyway.

Warnings:

non canon compliant - this is the biggest warning, so if you’re into things that follow exact canon plot you are… definitely not going to like this. angst & slow burn, heavy sexual tensionstarting now, actually - this is just so everyone who started reading this thinking the smut would transpire in a hurry knows that apparently, it is not. violence / swearing & fighting, possible underage drinking and other shenanigans- look.. it’s high school. shit happens. also apparently, my ofc Alyssa uses the word fuck like all the time?…eventual sexual content / a virgin original character- this one is self explanatory. yes, i plan to write a smutty chapter in this at some point. when? i don’t rightly know. it’s got a while before we get there.

Pairing:

Andrews!Sibling OFC, Alyssa x Sweet Pea

Other Parts:

[ one - two - three - four - five - six - seven -  soundtrack ]

Other Stuff:

[ faq - tag list doc ]

Tagging:

@brithedemonspawn​ is the only person on my Riverdale tag list. If you’d like to be tagged for this story by all means.. Please let me know. Please, I beg. It’d make me super duper happy!!!

                                             EIGHT.

“ Al?”

I turned down my radio and strained to hear. It almost sounded like Polly calling my name from the bottom of the stairs. I wandered over to my bedroom door, peeking out. Polly stood at the foot of the stairs, holding her twins on each hip. A smile played at my lips and I bounded down the stairs, launching myself into a careful hug. Fussing over the twins because I’d been dying to see them since the night Polly added me on Snapchat before everything went down the way it did.

She’d sent me a message that night, telling me she was pregnant and that she and Jason were leaving. She’d been planning to swing through Chicago with Jason and visit, on their way to wherever it was they’d planned to go. When it never happened and I didn’t hear from her again, I’d been worried for a while.

Then Betty realized that she’d been keeping in touch with me over Snapchat right after she went missing and she’d messaged me, asking if I’d seen Polly. When I told her I hadn’t and asked what was going on, she’d filled me in on everything.. Jason’s death and Polly’s fight with their parents and then Polly running away.

The rest filled itself in when I moved back in with my dad, for the most part. I found myself trying to stick close to Cheryl, because I knew she was taking it really hard. Because Jason had been like the third of us. Honestly, it hit me pretty hard too when I found out. Especially when Cheryl did that thing she always fucking does and tried to push me away. Tried to deal with it herself.

I’d given myself over to the thought Polly wasn’t ever going to return to Riverdale, so I was a little shocked that she was here. And staying under the same roof as her mom again.

“The last thing Betty told me was that you were living on a farm. I bet that was peaceful.” I stretched and smiled at her. Just imagining the lazy days that probably stretched on and on. The slow and quiet life.

Polly smiled, nodding. “I learned so much there.”

I nodded. “What was it like?”

We moved to sit on the couch and Polly began to tell me what she’d been up to. I listened, nodding and smiling. But the entire time she described this place, God help me, I found myself getting flashbacks to the true crime podcast I’d listened to about the Jonesboro cult. Or the Davidians from Waco.

I mean… it sounded harmless enough, but everything she told me about the place just made me think less of a commune and more of a cult type setting. And that had me worried.

The front door was being pounded on. When I heard Reggie calling my name through it, I grumbled. Polly gazed at the door and then at me. Smirking. “No way! I always thought you and Reggie would be cute together!”

“Whoa.. Let’s not get all happy.” I shook my head, frowning a little. Telling her in detail what actually happened and that we were broken up. She shook her head, frowning. “That’s a jerk move. Betty told me you were on the Vixens now?”

“Yeah. You know Cheryl. She’s always had a way of talking me right into shit I normally wouldn’t do. And Riverdale High didn’t exactly have a gymnastics team like my old school in Chicago, so I decided rather than go rusty and lose my edge, I’d join.” I shrugged, laughing and shaking my head. “It’s not so bad, I guess.”

She nodded to my outfit for the day. Ripped jeans, a Motley Crue t shirt and my favorite boots, my dad’s old plaid shirt. “You mean the other Vixens haven’t read you for filth for daring non conformity?”

“ Oh, there’s this one girl I’m dying to get my hands on when we do that powderpuff football game on Friday, but other than her, nobody really seems to care or notice? I’m just kinda.. There. Which believe me… is totally fine with me.” 

I bent down to pick up Dagwood so that Polly could feed Juniper because she was crying. Adjusting Dagwood to my hip, I made my way over to the door, throwing it open. Scowling up at Reggie, who was leaning against a porch post.

His gaze softened when he glanced at me. I bit my lip. Taking a deep breath to keep my patience. I knew he was hurting. I knew it was also totally his fault. But I was trying not to be mean.

“What do you want?”

“Are you seriously dating that fucking guy now? Princess, he’s only going to hurt you.”

“No worse than you already have. But no.. No Reggie, I’m not dating Sweet Pea. I just fell asleep in Mr. Keaton’s class and I happened to wind up leaning against the guy. Kind of happens when I stay up until 3 watching the Saw movies.”

He looked as if he didn’t believe a thing I said. I shrugged because honestly, I didn’t care if he believed me or not. Shifting Dagwood from one hip to the other. Bouncing him a little, giving a soft laugh when he grinned up at me. And raised his little hand to try and grab a handful of the ends of my hair.

“ That guy is bad news, princess. If I have to, I’ll talk to your dad. Anything if it means keepin you from gettin seriously hurt. Or worse, put in danger.”

“Reggie, you need to go.” I rolled my eyes. “I should get back inside. Get Dagwood back to his mommy.”

Reggie was giving me this soft look again. Nodding. Like he was lost in thought. I snapped my fingers in his face and cleared my throat. “You need to go, Reggie. I’m not kidding. The more you pop up and try to force me to deal with this, the less it makes me want to, okay? I need space. Time.”

“It’s just so hard, princess. Then I see you around with him and damn it, I hate the way I acted and the fact that I ruined everything.” Reggie admitted quietly. I nodded. “Just give me space.”

“I’ll try.” he promised, turning, walking down my porch steps. From the doorway, Polly spoke up.

“Sweet Pea.. He’s a Serpent, right? Jason mentioned him once or twice.” Polly asked as she reached out for Dagwood and gave me Juniper to hold.

I settled Juniper on my hip and gazed at Reggie’s retreating back. Sighing and shaking my head sadly. I just wish he’d understand that the more he tries to force himself on me right now, the less I want to deal with everything. And I don’t want to lose a friend.

I diverted my gaze and turned to face Polly, nodding. “Yeah. I got paired with him in Biology. It’s been interesting, to say the least.” I sank down to sit on a bench my father built, laughing as I shook my head. Cooing at Juniper. 

Polly cleared her throat. “Out with it, Alyssa Jean. I know that look too well, okay? And as your friend, I need to tell you now that the Serpents aren’t people you mess around with lightly. Not to mention, that whole thing with that guy Dave you had going in Chicago. The scary guy? The reason your mom freaked out and sent you here to live in the first place, most likely?”

“It’s nothing. It’s dumb.” I shook my head. Shifting Juniper around in my lap. Bouncing my legs a little to make her grin and reach up. “Dave was scary. And I’m starting to see that my mom did a good thing sending me here. I’m just glad he hasn’t tried to reach out to me.” I shivered a little, raising a hand to drag it through my hair. Gazing at Polly.

“The Serpents aren’t all bad.” I spoke up after a few seconds.

“Al, half of them already have rap sheets. I just don’t want you getting mixed up with them and getting hurt. Promise me you’ll at least give anything you’re thinking a lot of thought instead of just diving in and doing it?” Polly eyed me in concern. Mostly to appease her, I nodded.

“As far as Reggie.. I think he really regrets what he did.” Polly advised. Giving me a smile. Clearly trying to steer me in a particular direction. I know she was doing it with the best of intentions, but deep down, it struck a nerve or two. Because literally anyone I could think of save for Cheryl and Toni, they all seemed hell bent on steering me clear of Sweet Pea. Which was ironic, considering I really don’t see him ever even giving me a second look. Even more ironic when you stop to consider that it’s not like I’m openly throwing myself at the guy...Or that I’ve pretty much made up my mind that if I do feel anything for him, I can’t ever actually tell him, because it will ruin everything.

I opened my mouth to say something, but I decided against it. Polly gave me a soft smile, getting a dreamy look in her eyes as she spoke again. “The look he was giving you just now, Al.. If you gave him half a chance… you could be as happy as Jason and I were. Or as happy as I was raising my sweet angels at the Farm. You should come to a meeting with me.”

I shook my head quickly to that one. “I am.. Not into organized religion. I barely go to the services at the church here unless my dad really wants me to go with him. Besides.. We both know that I got up to enough sketchy stuff in Chicago that if I were to step foot in a religious building, lightning might just strike me down.”

“You weren’t that bad, Al. Everyone makes mistakes.” Polly laughed softly. Nodding to her twins as she mused, “Which one of us got knocked up, hm? And we both know how fast that gets you written off here.”

“ I know I wasn’t that bad, but also at the same time, it scares me now to think back and remember how much fun I had when I was in over my head, doing things I knew I shouldn’t ? As far as you getting pregnant and what this town thinks about it. Honestly, fuck ‘em. You and Jason were really in love. That’s what matters.” 

“We really were. But it was hard.” Polly admitted quietly. Adding as an afterthought, “ I really miss him sometimes.”

“Yeah. Me too. Pretty sure he’d have helped Archie drill Reggie’s head into the floor when it got around exactly why Reggie was even dating me to begin with. It was ridiculous. Took Jughead and Kevin to pull the two apart.” I gave a quiet laugh, shaking my head. 

Alice was calling for Polly and Polly grumbled, raising up to peek out the window. “I better go over there and see what she wants. I wanted to come over. Maybe I can come by again later or something?” Polly asked as she gathered Juniper and Dagwood, re-swaddling them against her. I smiled, nodding. Following her to my door, letting her out and locking the door again behind me once I saw her disappear inside her parents house.

XXX

“They’re going to tear down South Side.”

The words had Sweet Pea tensing because it was just another thing he’d be losing. It wasn’t enough apparently, that he was living in the Wyrm because he had nowhere else to go. He didn’t have family willing to take him. His mother hadn’t spoken to any of them in years. He barely saw his mother as it was, she’d come home for a day, a week tops and then she’d be gone again.

He gazed over at Fangs, processing what Fangs was telling him. “First it was closing the school down. Then it was our homes. What next, huh? What else do we have to get taken?”

Jughead wandered into the Wyrm and Sweet Pea scowled a little. It didn’t matter how much Jughead was trying to do for the gang, what he was accomplishing was the opposite of what needed to happen. “The fuck is he doing here?” Sweet Pea nodded to Jughead.

“He’s one of us, man.” Fangs reminded Sweet Pea. Glancing at Jughead as Jughead made his way over. He’d probably just heard the news about South Side High too. Though Fangs didn’t see why it mattered

“Only because of FP. Cherry’s more one of us than he is. I still say the second we’re not useful he’s going to bitch out and turn his back.”  Sweet Pea grumbled.

Fangs chuckled, shaking his head. Sweet Pea hadn’t ever made a secret how he felt about Jughead. And he certainly hadn’t taken it easy on the guy when they initiated him into the Serpents not so long ago, either.

Jughead sat down next to where Fangs was standing, grabbing himself a drink from behind the counter and pulling the tab. Taking a long sip.

“We have to do something. They’re taking everything from us.” Jughead spoke up angrily.

“I’d like to point out they’re your friends.” Sweet Pea spoke up, a harsh tone as he glanced over at Jughead.

“I’d like to point out that we all know you have a thing for one of them. If you’re going to sit there and pin this on the North Side like usual, I mean. At least own up to that.” Jughead retorted, watching Sweet Pea’s fists clench and his face twist into an angry mask. Trying to keep himself from laughing as it happened.

Sweet Pea having feelings for Alyssa wasn’t quite as well hidden as the guy thought.

The only one who didn’t seem to be aware of it was Alyssa herself. It amused Jughead.

It did not amuse Alyssa’s brother.

And the two had already had several heated conversations about him hanging around Alyssa so much that Jughead had to intervene on more than one occasion.

“I keep telling you idiots I don’t. I’d trust her before I would you, Jones. If we’re going there.” Sweet Pea muttered.

“Whatever you say, Pea. Can we stop arguin? Maybe start thinkin about what the fuck we’re gonna do?” Fangs patted his friend on the shoulder and Sweet Pea glared up at him.

“A hunger strike. We chain ourselves to the school. They can’t demolish it if we’re not moving.” Jughead suggested.

Fangs and Sweet Pea shared a look. Neither were sure their idea would work. But maybe it could buy them some time. Or get attention to the issues at hand… The more attention they drew to the fact that certain people were trying to use their money to completely run an entire neighborhood out of town, the better their case.

“That’s not the worst idea.”

“I hate what I’m about to say.” Sweet Pea paused, grimacing as he added, “It’s not. It’ll get attention on what’s happening. I hated saying that, fuck.” 

“Let me go talk to the others. We’ll reconvene at 9 tonight?”

Fangs and Sweet Pea nodded and Jughead went to talk to some of the other Serpents.

“That killed you, didn’t it buddy?” Fangs teased Sweet Pea.

“Fuck you, Fogarty.” Sweet Pea snapped, grumbling to himself. “Doing somethin is better than just sitting back and lettin them take everything, I guess.” 

And at 9:30 pm that night, Jughead, Fangs, Sweet Pea and Toni as well as several other former South Side students met at their old school. Chaining themselves to the fence in protest.

[werezmastarbucks]

Whitmore Guy - the usual Mystic Falls party routine

Whitmore Guy masterlist

word count: 2290

warnings: violence

music: the birthday massacre - happy birthday

“One thing that still gives me chills, although I’ve been living here for almost ten years”, Y/N said, swaying her bottle above the table, “is how a big event can be organized here in one day. Forbes just snaps her fingers, and everything’s in place”.

Mal raised his eyebrows.

“Get dead. Get immortal. Gain super strength and intellect. Use it to make people drink at places with a name like that”, he jeered.

“And you’re fine with living in the world where supernatural things are real?” Y/N asked.

“You gotta be dumb to think they aren’t. I mean, humanity is all like… we’re the shit. You know?”

Y/N didn’t always know what exactly he meant, but managed to at least grasp the basic idea most of the time. She recalled their prolonged, interesting, heated conversation on aliens, and Mal said something similar then, too.

“It’s fascinating how you make all things easy”, she marveled, under her breath.

“How come?” he smiled.

“Usually you expect people to crumble under the weight of the realization like that. It’s one thing to believe in stuff, and another to actually get evidence one day. It breaks a lot of people”.

“Did it break you?”

“That first time I met a vampire, it did. But I got back up again”.

“Good girl”, he murmured. A moment, and his attentive face was too close to hers. Mal rested his elbows on the table, leaning towards her, playing a secret agent sharing a very important piece of information.

“Tell me about it”.

“A dude bit me when I was fourteen. It was in Arizona. I barely survived. Some people spooked him, and he escaped, but I never saw his face”.

“That’s a very short story”, Mal looked disappointed. His eyes started wandering around the bar out of boredom. He could do that sometimes – make her feel obliged, when he showed he was about to yawn. He did that when he was grumpy. Y/N wondered, how she knew so much about Mal Osbourne. And why it mattered to her right now. His eyes stopped, widening, and he raised from the table.

“Oh, crap. Oh no”.

“What?”

Y/N turned around to see where he was pointing. Mal sat back, crouching his shoulders and trying to hide himself behind her.

“Martha’s here”.

“I thought she lived in Mystic Falls, Mal”.

“She does!”

“So, why does she keep showing up in Whitmore?”

He looked up at her from the table.

“Look, your Caroline must have gathered the whole two towns here. How am I supposed to know?”

Then his eyes slowly filled with terror.

“What did you mean when you said something bad was going to happen? Did you mean killing?”

Y/N turned around again, and finally saw her. The girl from Mal’s phone. She had dark brown hair, gathered in a ponytail. She was wearing a knitted white jacket, of all things. She looked… usual, just like Damon said. Plain, even. Y/N didn’t know what kind of feeling she got. She supposed the girl a unique dude like Mal chose should be something special.

A tiny voice in her head said, you bitch. She’s a real human and times better than you, apparently.

Martha Hopps was talking to a friend and wasn’t looking in their direction at all.

“Y/N, please”, Mal’s hand grabbed her, fingers biting into her skin, “get her away from here. What if she gets hurt?”

She’s never seen him like that. He was actually concerned. There was even a line between his eyebrows. The only time Y/N saw Mal so worried was when they watched Shadow of Fear, a horrible thriller with a bad plot, which for some reason took his breath away. He sat there in his basement, shaking her palm nervously, and cursed at James Spader for being such a villain all the time.

“What am I supposed to tell her?” she hissed, trying to get his fingers off her bitten wrist. He finally let go.

“I don’t know. Kick her out. Vampires can like... hypnotize people, right?” his face lit, “Make someone enchant her to go home”.

She stood up, wincing at his drifting terminology, bitter, because he beat her.

“Should’ve had you compelled and home right now”.

He cocked his smart head, as if saying, too late now.

Y/N drifted through the bar, trying to find Stefan. He’s the gentle one. He does things right, without rushing. She started getting nervous. The plan to get everybody here was great, to accumulate all vampires in one place, fucking awesome. Suppose she was only too concerned about the basement guy to actually give a thought to what Damon was planning on doing.

Mal was sitting at the table as she left him, but the next second, when she turned her head to look back, he was gone. Music was getting louder. Clock hands were rising higher. Y/N tried to walk through clusters of people, pushing them aside as gentle as possible. She saw Stefan and waved her hand to signal him. The vampire raised his chin acknowledging her, and they headed for each other. As they went, Y/N could see Elena right behind his shoulder, and at her back, one of the fourteen students. Behind him, like a gosling, the older Salvatore. Y/N opened her mouth trying to produce a sound, just as Damon wrapped his fingers around the boy’s throat. Brett Whittings, his name was. Elena turned with a swing, watching Damon drag the student away behind the maintenance door, his eyes full of silver rage. Stefan stepped after him, and there was seeming peace for a fracture of a second. Y/N heard the quiet flop of the closing door... after that all hell broke loose.

First, there was loud scream, like a call for arms, only, drunken. Then somebody hit her on the side of the head, and she swayed, but managed to keep standing, Elena’s eyes keeping her in place. The chocolate haired vampire reached her in a jump, encircling with her arms, but somebody collided into them, sending them away in a hop. They crashed into the bar counter, and Y/N produced a yelp of pain, feeling Elena’s hand pressing her head low. From the floor, she watched a couple of people grabbing each other and biting into each other’s flesh. Gushes of blood shot through the air, sprinkling people around. There were shrieks of horror as another couple went at each other.

Y/N tried to get up. released from Gilbert’s grab, holding on a side of a table like a piece of debris in the raging ocean; the mass of bodies rushed in tides in all directions. There was a loud crack: somebody smashed a person face down on a table and the leg broke. Glass shattered, and she heard Damon’s loud scream.

Y/N didn’t know where to move; they never had any kind of training for Kingsman church scene scenario. Vampires didn’t do that. Y/N tried to get on the bar counter, throwing herself over a row of stools, to see better and to get away. She clawed at the polished wood. Another familiar face was in front of her in a second; his rolling eyes were full of blood, mouth agape. A literature major, Ken Simmons. A good guy, a nerd, even. He looked at her like a zombie, like she was invisible. And turned away, catching a person trying to push past. Y/N grabbed him by the neck, but he was too strong. Having shaken off her hands, he walked on, a wiggling human in his arms, and bent, digging his teeth into their shoulder. The person screamed in pain.

Y/N got on the bar and observed the space, looking at fighting people, screaming, like it was the end of the world. Damon was trying to shake off a girl from his back, who bit into his neck and sucked, wrapping her legs around his waist like a monkey. Their full blindness towards Y/N was scarier than their sudden rage, which turned on as if on command, triggered by Damon’s first move.

Y/N climbed down and was pushed around immediately. People were screaming, and her heart was beating like crazy, all the instincts screaming, run away! Someone laughed into her ear deafeningly.

Finally, there was a choir of roars. Damon and Stefan, the two oldest vampires, stood up, and ran in the center of the disaster, throwing bodies around, breaking deadly kisses and bites, and breaking stiff arms that refused to let go. A sound of breaking wood and glass signaled open doors, and the whole body of the fight flooded out into the street. People crawled out and, holding on to each other, started running into the street.

Suddenly, it was quiet, like somebody snapped their fingers again, and everything stopped with someone’s dying moan. Y/N let go of some girl she’s been trying to stabilize, and she sprinted away, limping all the while.

She looked at her hands, covered in blood, and realized her face was burning, like it was cut, or scraped.

“Eight done”, Damon was panting like a dog.

“Ten”, Stefan replied from somewhere. Y/N swayed.

“Mal!” she screamed.

Something moved under a pile of shredded wood. The splinters were so yellow it looked like somebody gnawed on the table. She ran towards it, and Mal’s arm showed up, all covered in small cuts, but it moved.

The bar was silent like the street outside. A violent shock of stillness made everybody inside and alive shiver.

“Y/N!”

It was Damon. Someone was walking along the counter, but she couldn’t see. Damon showed up at her side, grabbed her by the shoulders, and even shook a little.

“I’m fine, I’m good! Mal’s there, get him out”.

Together, they lifted the pieces of the table. Mal wasn’t moving anymore.

Y/N fell down,feeling for his pulse.

“He’s breathing. He’s just out”, Damon said, looking down at him. “They must have crashed the table on him. Let him rest for a minute”.

Y/N looked into his pale face, smeared blood on his temple. Her heart shrank for a second, and a painful grasp crumpled her from the inside.

“God, what was that”, Caroline whimpered. Her face was cut, but was regenrating quickly, little cuts sucking inside and leaving behind uneven traces of blood. Her bright yellow dress was torn. Elena walked around, her quiet steps rhythmical, and her hair was just as messed up. Her face was blank, like a blind kitten’s.

Y/N moved her feet one after another absently, observing what happened to the place in five minutes. The bodies were laying everywhere. Throats torn, limbs twisted, like an army of demons came and brutalized them; they were barely recognizable. Ric sat at the bar on the sole uncracked stool, and held his bleeding head in his hands. Bonnie wrapped her hands around his palms and tried to see the wound. She gave Y/N a look of despair, her green eyes watering. A feeling of utter mortal horror froze in the air. What it took, seconds earlier, to bring that inhuman rage, now clawed them all apart like sheep. The place started reeking blood.

Something caught her eye, and Y/N felt bitter wave of blood coming up to her throat. A torn white knitted jacket was spread across the floor; her face, as she lay dead, did not seem plain anymore. Martha Hopps had a gaping hole in her chest, and her heart was nowhere to be seen. Her eyes were open, and there were exactly three specks of blood on her forehead.

“This one tried to bite my head off”, Damon murmured gravely, following her glance. He questioned the look in her eyes.

“Look again”, Y/N whispered, but the vampire was quicker than her. Standing with his hand scratching his face, he suddenly widened his eyes, realization coming to him like liquid lead. There was a deep groan and a heavy sigh.

“God dam-” Mal said, stepping up to them. Y/N looked at him, unable to move.

Mal’s lower jaw dropped, and his black eyes stared right at Martha’s body.

“You killed her”, he whispered. Damon gave him a blank look. All the color drained from Mal like he suddenly turned into a paper boy. He walked on slowly, ignorant of the necks and palms centimeters from the soles of his blood-covered Converses; he collapsed on the floor and took her head as gently as if she was made of paper, too. The muscles of his neck strained as he stared down at her bloodless face.

Y/N was paralyzed. It was the worst moment of her life, that was. She felt like her arms were about to fall off. Behind them, Caroline gasped and put her hands to her mouth, and Bonnie gave Mal a look of utter horror.

“You took her away”, Mal sat on the floor and put Martha’s head on his knee. “You took away my girl from me”.

For a second everybody, even the incredibly old vampire Damon Salvatore, with his brother, a certified ripper, at his side, thought something would happen. The way Mal looked him straight in the eye, with this severe, chilly gaze full of hatred, was almost inhuman. Y/N saw a creature before her, which transformed from a person, and into a beast. His face was triangle, his eyes were burning with blackest fire, swarming spiders in the depths of his threat; his neck pulsated with blood, as if he was ready to spring and destroy.

But as Damon stood there, without a word, Mal took a deep sigh, and sobbed a little, but then the sob turned into a laugh.

The scariest part was when he started laughing. Y/N knew this kind of thing; she discovered a weird type of defensive mechanism in her when she heard her great-grandma has passed away. She was only eleven back then. She remembered she was wearing a yellow turtleneck and a green skirt. Mum told her, sitting on her knees, that great-grandma died in the hospital. The old woman who taught her all children poetry she remembered. And Y/N started laughing. She laughed, and laughed, until she began screaming, her face like a white mask, and her own voice sounded like a wolf wail. She was laughing, tears streaming down her face, and couldn’t stop until her mother slapped her so hard she fell on her back and choked on her laughter.

Mal was laughing while staring at the Salvatores, and his crazy black eyes glimmered like two coals. Y/N rushed to him, afraid he would break her; scared he would catch her as she falls next to him, and snap her neck, like vampires do. But he didn’t seem to notice her. He was holding Martha’s body and laughing, until she grabbed him by the neck, trying not to put her knee on his girlfriend’s chest. She put his head to the nape of her neck and his laughter got muffled. Elena’s face expressed dread. She held him, while he held Martha, until he stopped laughing and sighed, like a child in their sleep. And started crying.

[trashyswitch]

Relationship Goals

Henry Emily and William Afton have been best friends for as long as they can remember. So, when William starts acting like a drama queen, Henry contemplates either enjoying the rare moment, or wrecking him...

Eventually, Henry finds a good compromise for both options...

This takes place WAY before the killings at Five Nights at Freddy's. I wanted to establish the Men's relationship in a very...fluffy light...

Hope you enjoy!

Henry Emily and William Afton have been the best of friends for as long as they could remember. They spent High School together, being 2 teenagers on top of the world.

Henry was an artist and a tradesmen. He could often be seen taking visual art classes AND Mechanical Engineering classes in the same year, for multiple years in a row! His favorite past time was tinkering with any spare parts with a toolbox by his side. When he finished, Henry would run test after test to make sure there were no flaws. He was very perseverant, and often refused to give up on a project he had worked so hard on. Heck, it was sometimes impossible to leave his project for a few minutes to go eat or take a bathroom break! But, Henry eventually learned that taking breaks can be good. It allowed Henry the time to think about what to do next, and allowed Henry to look at his project in a new light. Unsurprisingly, Henry kept up his passion as a career choice. But long before moving onto college, Henry met William.

Now, William Afton was an anti-social kind of teen. William was one of those 'non-scholarly' kinda kids. He was very good with numbers and received semi-good grades, but didn't really bother putting the hard work in. William understood high school life to be the time to 'have fun while you can' and often told Henry to 'loosen up and have fun once in a while'. The two best friends were polar opposite in that regard, but managed to balance each other out. William had shoulder-length hair that would often be dyed with a tinge of purple. He didn't care very much for piercings and tattoos, but loved painting his nails black and wearing purple clothing as much as possible. You could really tell what William's favorite color was back in the day...

Back then, they were just kids trying to find themselves in the world. Who could've possibly known they would end up here: Working together on an Animatronic-filled dining area for families, in the middle of the crazy 80's?! It was absolutely unheard of to have robotic animals in dining rooms. But, with Henry's engineering degree and William's business degree, Freddy Fazbear's Pizza had become a successful company! To celebrate, the boys went out for some drinks at a local bar.

Months later, William and Henry were working in their double duo office (an office with 2 people sharing the space), and having a bit of fun while they worked.

William was filling out some paperwork on a clipboard, and was losing focus rather quickly. It was exhausting trying to work on such paperwork at 7:00 at night. Henry was doing more of the fun stuff. He was working on a tiny version of the Freddy Fazbear animatronic. William proceeded to watch for a few minutes, before getting an idea.

"Hey Henry! Look!" William said as he opened up a drawer and pulled another mini figure out of his drawer.

"One second..."Henry told him.

William took advantage of the delay, and started contorting the arm to face in front. Next, William moved the fingers into a fist, and flipped up one of the fingers to the air. "Okay. Look." William told him, holding up the mini figure.

"I'm busy. One more minute..." Henry told William.

William rolled his eyes. Not wanting to wait for him, William decided to place the mini figure on the ground. With the figure facing the right way, William clicked a button on the back and let it walk itself over to Henry.

The Bonnie mini figure started walking its choppy little legs over to Henry's direction. It took a couple minutes but soon enough, the Bonnie mini figure hit his foot, getting his attention. Henry looked down at the floor and rolled his eyes at the sight. The Bonnie mini figure was leaning against Henry's shoe, still walking on the spot as if it wasn't being stopped at all. Henry bent down and picked up the figure, turning it off as he looked at it.

It took a second to process it, but Henry noticed something...odd...about Bonnie's hand: The right hand appeared to have been reassembled into the shape of a middle finger. Henry let out a short titter in response. "Really Will?" Henry asked.

William only proceeded to burst out laughing at the reaction he got from his only friend. On one hand, Henry was mentally rolling his eyes at William's immaturity. At the same time though, Henry felt playful enough to mirror some of William's playfulness. So, Henry took the other hand, and contorted it to form another middle finger. When it was ready, Henry placed it on the ground and clicked the button to start it up.

A few mechanical noises and beeps later, the mini figure, along with its middle fingers, were now walking up to William's desk. William had heard the sound of the mini figure walking, and decided to look up just in time to see a smiling purple Bonnie, flipping him off with two delightful-looking middle fingers.

William bursted out laughing at the stupid humor. "That awesome." William muttered before getting up from his seat. William bent down and grabbed the Bonnie figure. He turned it off, and placed it onto the desk in front of him. "This glorious Bonnie, has earned its place on the Freddy Fazbear's Hall of Fame. A beautiful, family-friendly, fuck you!" William joked.

Henry bursted out laughing. "Oh my gosh...You're seriously not gonna-aaaaaand you have...great...Our business is gonna get sued, because SoMeOnE couldn't keep their inappropriate jokes to themselves!" Henry reacted sarcastically.

"Hey! I'll...hide it during the day...I'll only bring it out when it's just us." William reassured.

Henry sighed, but nodded his head. "...Fine." Henry concluded before returning to his mechanics.

Another 20 minutes had passed, with no contact between the two co-workers. Henry had just connected the hand wires to the arm wires, and was beginning to push the wires inside and clip the hand in place.

*click* That was hand #1.

All of a sudden, Henry had felt a quick hit from something super light. At first, Henry couldn't even tell if something hit him! The only thing he heard in the room, was the sounds of William throwing away paper. So, with a quick swipe of the hand against the back of his head, Henry returned back to his figure.

A few minutes later, Henry felt another light hit. This time, Henry felt the back of his head, and looked down at his feet. There, laying on the ground, was a crumpled up paper. Henry picked it up, uncrumpled it, and read the message:

~Hi ;)

Henry rolled his eyes and threw the paper aside, before returning to the Freddy mini figure.

Soon, the papers started hitting his back and head more...frequently. It became very apparent that William was the one doing it. He threw paper, after paper, after paper, after paper, after-

It just never ended! By the time Henry had even considered telling him off, William had thrown almost 30 paper balls at the man!

Henry turned himself around to face William. "Will, I swear to God-" Henry started scolding, before being interrupted by a paper ball to the face.

"What? Am I annoying you yet?" William asked, before throwing another paper ball at his face. "How about now?" William taunted, pulling out another piece of paper and crumpling it up. "Am I annoying you yet?" William asked before throwing the crumpled paper at Henry's face. "Tell me, my lovely co-worker-" William taunted as he crumpled up yet ANOTHER paper. "Am I annoying you yet?" William asked one last time, before throwing it at Henry's face.

This time though, Henry caught the crumpled paper like a baseball with his right hand.

Henry looked at the crumpled paper in his hand for a minute...When he felt ready, Henry threw the paper back at William. William dodged the paper, and began cheering and taunting him. "Hey look at that! You missed!" William mocked. Henry, without breaking eye contact with William, bent down and picked up another crumpled paper. With the taunting starting to get to him, Henry threw the crumpled paper at William with all his might. William jumped out of the way again, and started laughing at him.

"HA! You missed me!"

In reaction to that, Henry began picking up all the paper balls and throwing them at William.

"Whoa! Look at that slide, though!"

"Wheeee! This is kinda fun!"

"WHOA- That was clo- Ow..."

"Now, now WAIT A SECOND- You're not allowed to walk closer! That's against the rules!"

Henry guffawed at the statement. "What rules?" Henry replied, before continuing to throw his paper balls at a closer distance.

"Alright, smart ass, fine. Do what you- HEY! Okay! Okay, I'm sorry! Stop- Ow! Dude! Cut it out- Aah! Knohohock ihihit ohohoff! Hehehenry! Plehehehease!" William reacted, getting more playful and giggly the longer it went on.

Okay, fine. I'll stop." Henry decided before walking back to his desk. William's face went from confusion, right to disappointment in a matter of seconds. That wasn't what he meant...He meant stop throwing the papers, not 'stop playing all together'...It was fun what they were doing. He didn't want it to end...

The truth was, William craved attention. He craved it a lot. Playful moments showed William he was loved and cared for. silly moments showed William he was funny and worth being around. Lastly, people like Henry showed William he didn't need to be alone anymore...

William's paper ball-throwing, was one of the many ways he'd get Henry's attention. So, since William still craved it, he decided to try and gain back Henry's attention. William sat onto his black, leather rolling chair, and started rolling it back and forth across the room.

Back and forth, back and forth, back and forth he went, multiple times in a row. This seemed to get Henry's attention. Henry, near the third time around, started following William. "What are you doing?" Henry asked.

"Getting your attention." William replied with a smug face.

Next, William rolled the chair towards Henry, and began poking him.

*poke* *poke, poke* *poke, poke, pokepoke* *pokepokepoke, poke, pokepokepokepoke*

It didn't take long for William's pokes to start irritating the poor man. So, in an attempt to stop his childish endeavors, Henry placed his foot on the chair and used it to push William away from him. "I'm trying to work." Henry told him.

"No you're not!" William reacted, mentally calling Henry's excuse 'complete bullshit'.

In retaliation, William pushed himself towards the closest wall. When his aim was completely adjusted, William pushed his feet against the wall, and rolled himself all the way across the room...towards Henry's chair!

Henry, hearing the wheels getting closer, looked up:

INSTANT panic filled his body. A quick screech had left his lungs, as he instinctively fled from the 50 pound chair with the 200 pound man riding it!

"BUMPER CARS!" William shouted before crashing into Henry's chair. William bursted out laughing and spun around in the chair, drowning in his giddy playfulness.

Henry, in anger, began to yell at the man. "DUDE! We paid good money for these chairs! You break any of these chairs, you're paying for it. Got that?" Henry asked. William only continued to laugh in amusement. So, Henry paused his yelling and, in an attempt to corner William in the chair, Henry moved his upper body REALLY close to the chair, and placed his hands on the hand rests to intimidate him. "These are NOT! BUMPER CARS!" Henry yelled.

Normally, the only way to get something into William's head is by looking him in the eyes and telling him directly. But today, William only stared at Henry with a mischievous little smile on his face, and a glint of playfulness in his eyes. Suddenly, Henry began to regret his close proximity because soon, William began poking and squeezing Henry's sides.

AAAH! Dohohon't! William, this is SERIOUS!" Henry reacted, surprised by the sudden spill of laughter. William only understood this to mean 'keep going'. So, he did! William rolled himself closer to Henry and started digging his fingers into Henry's sides. "Wihihill, I swear-Hahahaha! Come hehehehere, yohohou lihihittle-" Henry giggled, before shoving his hands into William's armpits.

William gasped in surprise. "EEEEEK!" William shrieked, retreating his hands to cover the spot. Henry let out some deep, teasy giggles to successfully intimidate the man. "Now I've gotcha..." Henry said in an evil voice.

"Now, hold on-Just waaaAAAHAHAHAHAHA! NO! GAAAAHH- SHIHIHIHIHIHIHIHIT!" William shouted desperately as his back slid down the chair.

"What's wrong, Will? Can't handle what you dish out?" Henry teased.

"HAHAHAHAHAHA! NOHOHOHOT THE AHAHAHARMPIHIHIHITS!" William begged, before giving up and flopping his body onto the floor. Henry, with his hands still in William's armpits, came falling down with him! And so, two crazy best friends could be seen lying on the ground, in front of the security camera in their room. But, Henry didn't care! That didn't stop him from continuing his tickle attack! Henry shoved his hands back into William's armpits, and continued tickling wherever he could reach.

"HEHEHEHEHENRYYY! HAHAHAHAHAHA!" William laughed helplessly. The man in the purple shirt was helplessly squirming back and forth with his arms and fists tightened against his chest. But even so, William's grip on Henry's hands, was still loose enough to get his hands out.

Henry, wanting to try somewhere else, decided to remove his hands. Next, Henry grabbed one of William's ankles and pulled the shoe right off his foot.

William sat his upper body up, and gasped in utter betrayal. "You wouldn't..." William accused in a slightly nervous voice.

It was now Henry's turn to smirk mischievously. "Oh, I would..." Henry replied smugly, removing William's sock. "And I definitely will!" Henry added, before scribbling his fingers all over William's foot.

William's face contorted, as giggles began filling in his lungs. It turns out, William's immediate reaction was to hold in his giggles. William's head began shaking back and forth to cope with the tickly feeling ALL OVER his poor foot. William's body soon found this unhelpful, and began to use his right hand to cope instead! His hand had turned into a fist, and had started pounding desperately against the ground. But pretty soon, the reminder to laugh would return and and ruin William from the inside out.

"Come on, William...It'd be a lot easier if you just laughed it aaaall out." Henry teased calmly. By now, bits of laughter was starting to come out in titters through his teeth! So, William threw his hand right up, to cover his mouth. No matter how much his lungs were forcing him, and no matter how tempting it was:

He refused! He, was NOT, going to laugh!

"Oooooh! I can tell that you're looking extremely determined! You haven't laughed in about 10 minutes! I'll admit, I'm impressed." Henry commented. "But, I can't help but feel like you need a little...nudge into the right direction..." Henry teased very suspense-fully.

William's face froze in growing fear. What did Henry have planned? Was he gonna tease him? Talk to him in baby talk? wiggle his fingers in FRONT of his feet?! BLINDFOLD HIM?! Dear lord, William couldn't even stand THINKING about it, let alone the OUTCOME...

Henry's smirk grew even wider, as his hand retreated slightly to create some suspense.

1 second...

2 seconds...

5 seconds...

10 seconds...

20 seconds...

Suddenly, Henry's fingers touched down on William's foot again! Henry breathed in and..."Aaa-coochy-coochy-coochy-coochy-coo! Aaa-coochy-coochy-coochy-coochy-coochy-coo!" Henry teased in a baby voice, wiggling his fingers during the teasing, and pausing them in between every teasy mumble.

Oh GOD NO! William began whimpering desperately, and began pounding his fists into the ground again! It looked like he was really close to breaking.

"Who has ticklish wittle feetsies? I think..." Henry paused his tickling, before resuming with all 5 fingers wiggling all at once. "William does! William definitely has de tickwish wittle footsies!" Henry teased evilly.

"GAAAAAA-FAHAHAHAHA! EEEEEEHEHEHEHEHEHEHAHAHAHAHAHAHA! NOOOOHOHOHOHOHOHOHO!" William bursted out as his upper body flopped onto the ground. Now, William was actually laughing! Hysterically, too! He was finally letting out every single laugh that was pent up in his lungs.

Henry gasped happily. "There it is! Aaa-citchy-citchy-citchy-citchy-coo! Aaa-citchy-citchy-citchy-citchy-coo! Aaa-citchy-citchy-citchy-citchy-citchy-cichy-coo!" Henry teased as evil and childish as possible.

William's face had quickly turned a dark red. The teasing was SUPER overdone! He couldn't handle just how teasy these teases were!

"Awww...Is William fwustered? Is wittle William not used to tickwy teases?" Henry asked in a baby voice.

"NOHOHOHOHO IHIHIHI'M NAHAHAHAHAHAHAT!" William replied loudly, lifting himself up to point at Henry and yell at him for mentioning something like that.

"I wonder...What would happen if I moooooved...my fiiiingeeeerrs..." Henry teased, slowly walking his fingers up to where his toes were. "...Uuuuup to these...tiny toes?" Henry asked.

"GAAAAAHHHH! HEHEHENRY NOOOOOOHOHOHOHOHOHO!" William begged desperately.

"Oohohoho...Henry...YES!" Henry replied, before immediately fluttering his fingernails under William's toes.

It only took a second for William's back to fall onto the ground. laughter almost immediately turned into cackles. It was taking everything in him not to kick Henry in the face with the other foot. The tickly feeling was so overwhelmingly strong! It was a wonder he even lasted this long! Since it may not have been easy to pick up on before: William's feet are an absolute death spot for him! This was his reaction to only ONE of his feet tickled! Tickling BOTH feet, would be a completely different story.

Finally, after a while of endless tomfoolery, Henry stopped tickling him. William's laughter lessened dramatically, with only a few giggles still leaving his mouth. William laid on the ground for a bit, breathing in lots of air to make up for the oxygen he lost.

Though breathing was pretty important...So was revenge...and boy oh boy, did William feel like getting some revenge on the man!

"You okay? I didn't kill you, did I?" Henry asked.

William smiled at his friend. "No...you didn't..." William replied.

"Oh, thank God. You want help up?" Henry asked, getting up and reaching his hand out for William to grab it.

William smiled politely. "Sure." William replied, taking his hand. Right as he was gonna pull up, Henry felt a sudden tug at his arm. One more tug, and Henry was down for the count, laying beside William who had an evil smirk on his face.

"W-Will, Wai-AAAH!" Henry yelled, getting tackled by the thin man beside him.

"You thought you'd be able to tickle me, without getting any tickles yourself?" William asked, holding his arms down with his hands.

"I...no, I knew you'd get revenge. It's just that-...um..." Henry replied, drifting off as he attempted to think of an answer.

"...yeeeesssss?" William said slowly, signalling for Henry to keep going.

"I-I didn't know that you'd recover so quickly...I thought I'd get a...bit of a break before getting tickled." Henry explained.

William's face softened a bit. He let go of his arms and sat up a little bit. "Oh...Well, looks like you caused your own funeral then." William declared, before poking and clawing at Henry's ribs first.

"What- Hehehehey! Dohohon't gohohoho blahahaming thihihihihis ohohon MEEhehehe! Yohohohou stahahaharted ihihihihit!" Henry argued through his giggles.

"Yeah! And I'm finishing it!" William replied confidently. Next, William moved his hands down to Henry's lower body, and began to drill his thumbs into Henry's hips.

"Ohoho GAHAHAHAD NOHOHOHOHOHOHOHOHO!" Henry bursted out. Henry's entire body reacted to the tickling and in an instant, began squirming like a madman!

William couldn't even hold him down! "Holy shit man! I'm not killing you, I swear!" William reacted. In an attempt to get Henry under control, William sat himself onto Henry's waist and resorted to Henry's upper ribs instead.

"IHIHIHI'M TOOHOhohoho squihihihirmy fohohohohohor thihihihihis!" Henry complained as his laughter lessened a little bit.

"I can see that! You're just a squirmy little wiggle worm." William replied smugly.

"Shuhuhuhut uhuhuhup!" Henry shot back at him.

"Why? Don't like your friend reminding you of the truth? Guess what world! Henry is a wiggle, wiggle, wiggle worm!" William teased with a big smile, as he clawed and dug in between the ribs of Henry's ribcage.

"WIHIHIHILL! NOHOHOHOHOHO! STAHAHAHAHAP IHIHIHIHIT!" Henry begged.

"No way! It's too cute! You're a wiggly little worm! And, if I remember correctly..." William added, before moving his arm behind him. William reached out to Henry's knee, and squeezed it a few times.

All of nowhere, a snort and a giggle rang through through the room!

Henry covered his mouth with his hand, to cover up the embarrassing sound he had just made.

"You have a cute little snort too!" William mentioned.

"Ihihihit's nahahahahat cuhuhuhute..." Henry argued.

William let out an offended gasp and squeezed his knee a few more times in retaliation. Henry's muffled snorts and giggles began to fill the room and fill Will's heart as well.

"Are you kidding me? The snorts are the best part about you! It's adorable!" William replied, pausing his squeezing for a minute.

Henry didn't seem to think so. "It's weird...I don't like it." Henry admitted.

"Well, since you're not gonna love your own snort, I'm gonna have to love it for you." William reacted, before giving his knee another squeeze. "The truth is, any woman would love to have a husband who snorts. It's an adorable feature that you come with. If a woman won't appreciate that part of you, then I sure as hell will!" William added as he continued to squeeze Henry's knees.

Henry continued to wiggle back and forth, giggling and snorting uncontrollably. Even though Henry appreciated the compliment, he didn't really believe him. His snort was something that his family and friends would make fun of him for. Some of them even went as far as to call him 'Mr. Piggy' in school. That taught him that snorts are weird and only good for laughing at. It's not like he could control it, either! He couldn't, and that made things worse!

William was the only person who...actually got excited the first time he heard him snort. Instead of laughing at him like most kids did, William would...treat him like an adorable puppy for having such a snort. He would also make him laugh as much as possible, to hear it as much as he could. That's what made William so different from the others: He appreciated his small quirks.

In return, Henry would grow to appreciate William's adorable quirks! One of his adorable quirks, happened to include: how freaking ticklish the man was! All you'd have to do is poke him in the ribs, and William would be down on the floor, giggling up a storm! Sometimes, Henry would follow him and keep tickling the man! It was unbelievable how ticklish the man would reveal himself to be! Just about all the usual tickle spots made him laugh! However: there was one, single spot that Henry absolutely loved:

And that was right where he was gonna strike! Since William was busy looking at the knees behind him, Henry reached his hands out and wiggled his fingers onto William's tummy.

William gasped in surprise! "Yeeehehehehehahahaha! NO! NO WAY!" William yelled, pushing away his arms in an attempt to hold dominance over him. However, Henry was quick! "It was MY turn for reve-EEEEhehehehehehehehehe! Stahahap ihihit! Ihihit was MYHYHY TUHUHUHURN!" William begged as he attempted, but failed to cover up his belly and armpits. In the process of covering up the spots, Henry gave William a friendly push, allowing William to fall backwards so Henry could become the ler once again!

"Newsflash! Your turn just expired!" Henry replied confidently as he got up and continued tickling Will's chubby-looking tummy.

"Yohohohohou suhuhuhuhuck! Ihihi wahahahahanted rehehehehevenge!" William argued.

"You got your revenge! Plus, we were talking about adorable things about each other! My adorable thing, apparently, is my snort. YOUR adorable thing, is how unbelievably ticklish you really are!" Henry explained.

"I can touch here-" Henry wiggled his fingers around William's belly button, making him squeal and giggle.

"Here-" Henry clawed his fingers on William's ribcage, causing his laughter to heighten.

"Here-" Henry squeezed William's hips, making him cackle.

"Even here!" Henry fluttered his fingers on William's neck, making him squeak and giggle in a high-pitched voice.

"-And you'll explode into laughter immediately! Your entire body is ticklish, and it's so cute!" Henry declared.

William started squirming slightly to cope with the different spots being poked and prodded at. He was WAY too ticklish for his own good!

"Ihihihit ihihisn't fahahahahair! Yohohohou're lehehess tihihicklihihish thahahahan mehehehe!" William argued.

Henry rolled his eyes. "Aww, boo-hoo! Poor William is TOO ticklish for his OWN GOOD! How terrible! Such bad news! So unfortunate!" Henry taunted dramatically.

"Shuhuhut uhuhup, you ahahahasshohohohole!" William spat back, unable to handle how flustered he was becoming.

Henry paused his hands, and covered his mouth with them as he gasped in surprise and offense. "Such language, coming from a pizzeria owner for KIDS! That language is NOT! TOLERATED here! I think SOMEONE needs some SENSE tickled into them!" Henry scolded before shoving his hands into William's armpits.

"NOOOHOHOHOHOAHAHAHAHAHA! IHIHIHI'M SAHAHAHAHARRYYYY! IHIHI'M SAAAHAHAHAHRRYYYHEHEHEHE!" William shouted.

"Oh, but I don't think you really ARE, though! At least, not yet! Am I right?" Henry asked as he continued to quickly tickle his armpits.

"NOHOHOHOHOHO! IHIHIHI'M REHEHEHEHEALLY SAHAHAHARRY! PLEHEHEHEHEASE!" William shouted through his endless laughter.

"Oh! Now you're saying you're REALLY sorry!...I see! Well, I suppose I could consider letting you-"

"YEHEHEHEHES PLEHEHEHEHEASE! LEHEHEHET MEHEHEHE GOOHOHOHOHOHO!" William shouted suddenly!

"Hey! I didn't finish yet! You just earned yourself 2 more minutes of tickles, Will!" Henry declared.

Eventually, Henry did stop to let the poor man breath. Though, Henry ended up regretting his actions, once William's revenge included RASPBERRIES! And only God knew how ticklish THOSE were! But, even William eventually had pity on the man, and stopped himself. He didn't wanna kill him, after all. Plus, it was nearing the end of their work day! So, William wanted Henry to have a bit of time to get read to go home!

After packing up their stuff, the two co-workers left the building, giving each other a hug before going their separate ways. As William drove home, he felt thankful for having a best friend like Henry. He also felt thankful for the little snort noises that came with Henry. It was a super adorable thing that William loved about him. It was...a bit of a guilty pleasure...But, that's normal!...

Or so he hoped...

[yadds]

Tony Reappears, Part 3 - Tony has come back with more than he bargained for.

Part 1 - what would happen if Tony appeared out of nowhere to be found by Peter, who’s still haunted by Beck’s reality bending?

Part 2 - Tony is in bad shape and Peter helps, Strange snarks, and Pepper gives him the kick in the pants he needs.

_____________________________________________________________________

The next few hours were filled with catching Tony up on some of what he’d missed.  Peter convinced Strange to step out and let him be for a while as Pepper filled him in on what Morgan was like now - how she was so dang smart and had his snarkiness and his sense of humor.  But she also had Pepper’s level-headedness, thank God.  It helped ease some of the sting of her not being there, but it still hurt like hell that he’d missed half her life.

During a pause in the conversation, Tony asked, “And what about you?  How have you been, Pep?”

“I’ve been good,” she replied automatically.  

When he just looked at her, she dropped her eyes and pressed her lips together briefly.  “It was really hard, Tony,” she admitted, voice thick.  “I knew there was a chance you wouldn’t come back, but there was always that chance and you somehow always got yourself out of it.  I guess I’d gotten lulled into a false sense of security.  And with Morgan...I wasn’t prepared to handle that.  But we got through it, with the help of so many people.  I don’t think you really ever realized how many people cared about you, Tony.  Everyone has been really great - especially Peter,” she said, directing a fond smile at the door where he’d left a couple hours earlier.  

“They adore each other.  And Peter loves taking her into the lab and teaching her everything she could possibly want to know, which is great since I sometimes can’t keep up with her brain already.”

That was a bittersweet image.  He loved the idea of Peter bringing Morgan into his family and using what he learned from Tony to teach and mentor her, but not being able to do that himself was still hard to come to terms with.  Hopefully, they could all go together soon.  He was getting more and more antsy the longer he was awake.

But as much as he appreciated Peter taking care of his daughter, Pepper had once again brought the subject back around to Morgan.  “And you?  Who’s helping you, Pepper?” he asked.

She was quiet for a minute.  “I’d been seeing someone else,” she finally said.

Tony could see that she was still talking, but he couldn’t hear her over the roaring in his ears.  

He’d had a small hole behind his heart that had been growing as he heard more and more about what he’d missed while he’d been gone.  Dead.  It was now ripped open into a gaping pit, threatening to pull him under.  Everyone had moved on - SI, the Avengers, Morgan, Pepper.  Even if he was here to stay, what possible purpose would he have?  No one needed him anymore. 

Small, soft hands were gripping gently at one of his own and he was vaguely aware of Pepper calling his name, but he couldn’t snap himself out of it.  

Someone else was suddenly grabbing his chin roughly and his arm instinctively came up to push them away.  There was a loud crash that rang dimly in his ears as his eyes were caught by the brown gaze in front of him, slowly becoming aware of the heavy hand on his chest pushing him down into the bed and a blazing weight across his thighs.  

“Mr. Stark.  Tony.  You need to calm down,” someone was saying firmly, voice low and even.  “I know you don’t want to hurt me, Mr. Stark, so I need you to come on back now.”

It felt like an eternity before Tony was able to focus on anything long enough to comprehend what was going on. 

Peter. That was Peter in front of him, eyes steady and intent on him. Probably also his hand on his chest. Okay. His gaze traveled down and his heart kicked back into overdrive again when he saw the hand wrapped around Peter’s throat, his skin white and dimpled around the clamped fingers. What the fuck was going on? Was someone else - ? 

No. That was his hand, he realized numbly. He let go abruptly, feeling his cheeks flush as reality suddenly came crashing back all at once, horror and shame coursing through him. His other hand was holding tight to Peter’s. He released that too. Peter stayed perched where he was, slowly bringing that hand to his side as he moved the other one from Tony’s chest, obviously ready to spring back into action if necessary. 

Strange wasn’t so trusting. He used bands of energy to immediately restrain Tony’s arms, which appeared to have also been the oddly warm, tingly weight on his legs he’d felt earlier. 

“This is why she shouldn’t have been here. Definitely not unsupervised,” Strange bit out, throwing a cutting glance in Peter’s direction. 

She? Oh, God. Pepper. Tony’s head whipped to the side, searching for her. 

He found her on the floor several feet from his bed, one wrist cradled in a nurse’s grasp and a slow trickle of blood oozing from a shallow cut on her forehead. He saw her eyes clench tight and her breathing hitch as they tried gently moving her hand. What had he done? 

“Not helping,” Peter said, still keeping his voice steady and eyes locked on Tony. When he saw Tony’s attention refocus on him, Peter smiled. 

“Hey Mr. Stark, you’re good now. Everything’s under control and everyone is okay, just a couple bumps and bruises.”

Seeing the helpless confusion still lingering, Peter continued. “I'm not sure exactly what happened but I heard your heart suddenly start racing so I came in to check on you. You looked completely zoned out and Pepper couldn’t get you to respond. When I tried, I guess you saw me as a threat and lashed out. And, uh, it looks like you might have some kind of super strength now?” Peter tacked on at the end, over casual. 

“Excuse me, what? How about you run that by me again,” Tony said, looking incredulously at him. 

“It probably would have taken all my strength to hold you down,” Peter explained. 

“Which he wasn’t willing to do, in case he sent you back to a grave,” Strange expounded, not sounding like that would be such a terrible idea. “Hence the additional restraints.” 

“Well we don’t know if accelerated healing is part of the package, or if your body is even strong enough to handle the effects of using that strength - it puts a lot of stress on the bones and muscles,” Peter said, arms crossed and posture defensive. 

Tony turned back to Pepper. “Are you okay, Pep?” he asked quietly. 

She looked up and gave him a tired smile. “I’m fine, Tony, don’t worry about it. I’ve been shoved off worse things than a hospital bed.” Tony didn’t appreciate that particular allusion. 

At Tony’s raised eyebrows, the nurse spoke up as he finished wrapping Pepper’s hand and stood up. “Just a superficial scratch and a sprained wrist.” 

“See?” Pepper said. “They should really be looking at Peter, not at me.”

Tony’s gaze moved back fast enough to catch Peter throwing her an irritated glance and a slashing motion with his hands. Pepper mouthed ‘sorry’ back at him with a shrug, not looking particularly sorry. 

As Peter waved off the nurse coming to do just that, Tony finally noticed that a few of his fingers were bent at odd angles. From him. Fuck. This just kept getting better and better. At least this was making him much more grateful for Morgan’s absence. He probably would have willingly thrown himself back into the afterlife if he’d hurt her. 

Peter noticed Tony notice his fingers and moved quickly to straighten them with his other hand, bones popping loudly as they were shoved back into place. He tried to smile through the harsh wince. “No big,” he grit. 

Strange heaved a put-upon sigh. “I’m surrounded by idiots,” he muttered. To Peter, he said, “You know, I wish you wouldn’t do that. I can tell you from personal experience how soul-wrenching it is to be without properly functioning hands.”

Peter wrinkled his nose in Strange’s direction, stretching his arms over head. “Never been a problem before. My hands get messed up all the time with all the slinging - throwing my body weight around on a string at high speeds is hell on my hands and shoulders. One wrong turn and bam! Everything is out of place,” Peter said nonchalantly. 

Tony felt his heart sink further. He thought he’d accounted for that when designing Peter’s suits. Apparently not good enough. Story of his life. 

Peter looked around when the silence drew out past a normal pause. “Oh come on, guys, it’s really not that big a deal. They were just dislocated, not broken. And hello? Super healing? It’s a great perk.” He held up his previously injured hand and wiggled his fingers. Fully functional.

“That doesn’t mean it’s okay,” Tony cut in harshly. “It still hurts.”

Peter’s eyes shuttered and his jaw clenched, looking abnormally vulnerable. But it only lasted a second before he relaxed, shoulders rolling back. 

“Yeah, you’re right Mr. Stark, sometimes it sucks. But at least I heal, so if someone has to be hurt, I’d rather it be me,” he said with a crooked smile and a helpless shrug. 

And right there - he reminded him so much of himself, except 10,000 times better, that Tony couldn’t bring himself to say anything. 

Luckily, Strange took that chance to chime in. “You know what’s even better? Making it so that no one has to get hurt, including yourself.”

“Yeah, well, if I could control the fabric of time and space then maybe that would be a valid argument,” Peter grumbled with a roll of his eyes. 

“Or you could work on not being a self-sacrificing moron who rushes into things the second there seems to be trouble.”

“I feel like that’s directed at me,” Tony said dryly.  “But if I remember correctly, it was that exact quality of mine that, oh, I don’t know, saved the world? And I seem to remember you saying that was literally the only way for that to happen successfully.”

“The exception is not the rule.”

“Pretty big exception,” Peter pointed out. 

Strange tsked, rolling his eyes. “You’re impossible. I don’t even know why I bother.”

Pepper approached his bed and took his hand again. “Well this is truly awful timing, but I have to get going - there’s a stakeholder meeting that starts in two hours. Please try not to beat yourself up too much. Everyone is fine and we’ll get this figured out.”

“A stakeholder’s meeting? Really? You don’t think they might let you off the hook considering one of their greatest assets has returned from the dead? Even if they don’t like me, I make them a lot of money. Made. Will make again. Hopefully.”

Pepper smiled wryly. “If it was common knowledge then yeah, maybe so, but we’re keeping it out of the public for now.”

“But you’ll be back, right?” Tony asked. 

“Of course. Not tonight, but soon.”

“Right. You’ve got someone else to go home to,” Tony remarked bitterly. 

Pepper grimaced. “Okay, well yes, I do - our daughter. Apparently you didn’t hear what I was trying to tell you earlier. I had been seeing someone else, but we called it off when I got the news about you coming back.” She moved forward, touching his cheek. “I still love you, Tony. And I want our family back together if possible.”

Tony felt the knot in his chest loosen, slightly. “Okay,” he said simply. “Soon, then.”

“Soon,” Pepper agreed, pressing a kiss to his lips.

Then she was gone.  Tony was agonizingly aware of the loss of her touch, her warmth.

Peter flopped into the chair next to him and propped his feet up on the edge of the bed, grinning when Tony shot him an incredulous glance. “So, what else do you wanna know, boss man?”

They talked about what Peter was up to now - in his 3rd year at Columbia, double majoring in biochem and computer engineering, still the friendly neighborhood Spider-Man but also a full member of the Avengers. 

“And they let you keep your secret identity?” Tony asked. 

“Oh, no. Man, I forgot you didn’t already know about that. Yeah, I was outed only a few months after you were gone.”

“By SHIELD?” Tony asked, brow furrowed. 

“No, by one of the bad guys. He tricked me into thinking he was one of us then when he couldn’t get rid of me, he made sure to record a video that he broadcasted internationally right before he died, revealing who I was and saying I was the bad guy that killed him and was responsible for everything else. It was kinda, uh, crazy for a while.”

Tony felt his heart drop.  At this rate, it was going to end up a permanent resident in his stomach “Shit. I’m sorry, kid. I’m sorry I wasn’t there to help you.”

Peter shrugged and quirked a quick smile. “Nah, it was my own fault really. I was young and stupid and trying to just be a kid instead of a superhero. I was too ready to trust someone else to take the load because I didn’t want it. And Ms. Potts actually helped a ton in containing the bad press and image recovery. She was a life saver!”

Tony flashed a quick, fond smile. “Well she’s had a lot of practice dealing with a lot worse. I feel like there’s more to this story, though. What exactly happened, Pete?”

Peter focused on a point to the left of Tony’s face, jaw tight. “I’d actually rather not talk about that right now, if that’s okay?”

Tony blinked. “Uh, sure, yeah, no problem kid.” To be completely honest, it was killing Tony to not know what happened, especially since it was obviously still very present in Peter’s mind. But it was also evident that if he pushed any harder, Peter might break. But why? What the hell happened? 

Peter’s answering smile was weak. “Thanks Mr. Stark.”

Tony glanced awkwardly around the room during the following silence. “So, uh, got a girlfriend? Or boyfriend? You know, no judgment,” he finally blurted. 

Peter shook his head. “Nah. I did finally go out with MJ, you remember her,” Peter said with an amused sideways glance. Tony snorted in response. Yeah, he remembered her. “But it turned out we were better off just as friends. She’s still kinda pissed that no matter what she does, she’s still mostly just known as ‘Spider-Man’s girlfriend’, even though we were only dating for like 6 months after I got outed.” 

Peter leaned back in his chair, resting his ankle on his opposite thigh and playing aimlessly with his shoelaces. “I tried dating a few other people, but it just hasn’t worked out. Either they just wanted to get to know me because of the whole Spider-Man thing or I just couldn’t pay them the attention they deserved between school and patrolling.” He shrugged. “It’s okay though. I’ve got good friends and the occasional hookup when the stress gets too high.”

Tony’s eyebrows rose, somewhat impressed. “Peter Parker, an active participant in casual sex, whoda thunk?”

Peter laughed. “Well, turns out I don’t do casual real well, which surprises nobody,” Peter said wryly. “But sometimes a guy’s gotta do what a guy’s gotta do. It’s all good as long as everyone’s on the same page.”

Tony held up his hands. “Hey, no need to defend yourself to me, honeybee. I mean, look at who you’re talking to here.”

“You still remember that far back, old man?” Peter jibed. 

Tony grasped his chest. “Ouch! Critical hit, kid. Don’t you know I have a sensitive heart?”

Peter rolled his eyes. 

After another soft pause in the conversation, Peter pulled out his phone, tapping it against his palm and opening his mouth to speak several times before stopping. He huffed a breath then finally just asked, “Do you - um - do you want to see more pictures? Of Morgan?”

Tony couldn’t help the way his breath caught in his throat and his eyes stung. His immediate answer was yes, of course he wanted to see pictures of her. But at this point, he didn’t know how long it would be before he’d be able to see her. If at all. Could he handle seeing her right now? 

“I...I- yeah. Yeah, I think I would. Please,” he said hoarsely. 

Peter nodded, quickly punching in the passcode and pulling up his photos. Tony felt his heart stutter when he noticed Peter had a whole album dedicated to her. He craned his neck in Peter’s direction, suddenly desperate to see. Of course Pepper had shown him pictures of her, but that was before the idea of not seeing her felt so real. 

With shaking hands, he took the phone from Peter when he thrust it in his direction, cradling it gently. The picture on the screen showed her laughing - big, wide-mouthed, teeth-baring, nose-scrunching, eye-squinting laughter. Tony’s fingers ghosted over the screen, tracing her wild dark hair, the freckles on her cheeks. It made Tony smile, even as his eyes blurred. 

He ran his hand over his face as he sniffled and cleared his throat. “Man, it sure is warm in here. What’s a guy gotta do to get a glass of water in here?” 

Peter got up to get him one, passing it over (with a snarky, “I feel like I’m becoming your personal water boy,”) without commenting on the bullshit excuse that was fooling no one. He remained standing and stretched in an exaggerated manner. “I think I’m going to just stretch my legs for a minute,” Peter said before ambling across the room. Tony appreciated that pointed ignorance of his vulnerability more than he could say in this moment. 

He glanced back down at Morgan, noticing now that she looked just as he remembered her. He looked at the time stamp. Three years ago. He scrolled slowly through the 643 pictures in the album, watching the subtle changes as she grew up. Whereas Pepper had showed him mostly school pictures and professional photos, Peter had the real shots. There were silly selfies, blurry, grainy shots in what looked like a blanket fort, stupid Snapchat filters, several sleepy, angry glaring photos where she obviously didn’t appreciate having her picture taken (with some middle finger action thrown in the mix there), ones where her face is scrunched in concentration while she stands on tip toes on her stool at a lab table with her hands buried in a project. But mostly, she was smiling. Looking so damn happy. And surrounded by love - Pepper, Peter, Happy, and Rhodey all featured heavily. He stopped at the first picture he saw of Morgan with Pepper and a man he didn’t recognize. The man had his hand on Pepper’s hip and Morgan was smiling up at him. 

Tony couldn’t help the immediate surge of rage and loss he felt as he realized who he must be. 

“His name is Tom,” Peter said quietly, looking over Tony’s shoulder. 

Tony had to set the phone face down on the bed for a minute. Just breathe. He couldn’t blame Pepper for moving on, he reminded himself. He was dead. No one would have guessed he’d be coming back. And he wouldn’t have wanted her to be alone forever. 

“I can’t.” Tony grit. 

Peter pulled gently at the phone. “I can take those pictures out.”

Tony tightened his grip. “No.”

Peter looked at him. 

“No,” Tony said again. “I can. I just don’t want to. But I need to.”

It was almost another minute before Peter sighed and pulled his hand away. “Okay.” But he stayed close by this time, seemingly on edge. 

He picked up the phone again and kept going. Although he’d braced himself, there were actually not that many photos with this Tom guy in them. 

He’d started to relax when he got to one of the last pictures, this one just of Tom and Morgan, her curled in his lap, asleep, his arms around her. 

His vision went white and his head felt full of cotton, the world muffled and distant. He felt a sharp pain and looked down to see Peter’s phone crumpled in his hand, the glass shattered. Peter’s hand came slowly into his line of vision, coaxing his hand open. He pulled the mangled phone from his fist then sat on the bed and held Tony’s hand in his lap, methodically plucking shards of glass from his palm. 

Peter seemed to sense that Tony was floating back to the surface because he looked up briefly before resuming his task. “I think we’re gonna have to get you into anger management classes, Mr. Stark,” he said dryly. 

Tony blinked. And again. And again. And - there we go. Now his brain was connecting with what he was seeing. “Shit. I’m so fucking sorry, Pete.”

Peter scoffed, tightening his grip on Tony’s hand. “Stay still,” he chastised. “Yeah, super strength isn’t all fun and games, that’s for sure. If you think I haven’t done this same thing way too many times before, you are sadly mistaken. Don’t worry about it! Although if it’ll make you feel better, I’ll make you replace it.”

“I’m not only replacing it, I’m upgrading it. Isn’t that the same phone I left for you three years ago? That thing’s gotta be a dinosaur by now.”

Peter shrugged. “Not as much as you’d think, actually. With dealing with the consequences of the reversal of the snap, it hasn’t really been top priority to come out with new phone models. And there’s still nothing that can compare to your StarkPhone.”

“I knew those assholes at SI were lost without me,” Tony muttered a bit smugly. 

They were quiet for a while as Peter continued pulling the glass from Tony’s hand.  A nurse came in and tried to insist that they do that, but Peter firmly declined, belatedly glancing at Tony to make sure that was okay.  At his nod, Peter smiled and returned to his work.  

The nurse pressed her lips together firmly before sighing and bringing back some medical tweezers.  “At least use the proper tools,” she scolded.  Peter murmured his thanks as he took them.  Tony waved cheekily as she turned and left.

Feeling Peter’s firm grip, fingers dancing over Tony’s hand as he searched for any remaining pieces, was releasing a tension he hadn’t realized he’d been holding. Despite the sharp stings as each shard was pulled from his skin, Tony found this oddly relaxing.  He leaned back into his pillows, watching Peter methodically squint, massage, tweeze, and pull, over and over again, strangely content with the silence in a way he rarely was.

Tony hadn’t realized Peter was done until Peter finally released his hand.  With the loss of contact, that drifting, floaty feeling came crashing back to earth, shattering as effectively as the phone had in his super-powered grasp.  He had to use all his self-restraint to keep from chasing after Peter’s retreating touch, desperately wanting an anchor to ease his sudden reeling.  But that would be weird.  And pathetic.  Which he’d had enough of, thank you very much.

Suddenly that silence, so peaceful and soft, was deafening, suffocating.  “Kid!” Tony blurted. 

Peter jolted, startled by the sudden, jarring exclamation.  “Uh, yeah?”

Tony’s mind raced, trying to come up with something to say, anything.  “You gonna be my jailer for a while, I guess, while we try to figure out what’s up?  You got some good board games or something?”

Wincing, Peter looked down at his hands for a second before leveling Tony with an apologetic gaze.  “Actually, I’ve got to get back to school tomorrow.  I’ve been studying here, but I’ve got to get back for finals.”

Tony was pretty sure he was able to keep the hopelessness from being broadcasted across his face, but it didn’t stop Peter’s kicked puppy look.  “Yeah, of course, I’m sorry Pete - I honestly thought it was still summer.  Shit, I have no idea what month it is.”  He rubbed his hand across his face, suddenly tired in a way that had nothing to do with his exhausted body.

“It’s December, Mr. Stark.  But in two weeks, I’m done with my semester and will have a month off!  Hopefully you’ll be out of here by then, but if not then I’ll be back to give you the ‘good cop’ experience.”

“Ah, shit,” Tony groaned, realizing what Peter meant.  “That means I’m stuck with Strange for two weeks, aren’t I?”

Peter grimaced sympathetically.  “I’d say he’s not really that bad, but-” At Tony’s unimpressed glare, he cut himself off.  “Yeah, I’m not even gonna go there.  But at least the feeling is mutual?  I mean, if you’re both dying to get away from each other, hopefully that just means you’ll both work harder to figure everything out so you can get out of here?”

Tony snorted.  “Is your middle name Positivity?  That’s got a ring to it - Peter Posisitivty Parker: always looking on the bright side.”

Peter laughed but his smile was a little off.  “Yeah, when there aren’t a lot of good things going for you, you either get angry or find each little piece of goodness around you,” he said with a shrug.

Tony looked at Peter for a long moment, watching him stare aimlessly to his left.  He struggled to sit up a bit, raising his hand to card through Peter’s hair gently.  “You’re a good kid,” Tony said, voice quiet and sincere.

Peter raised his eyes to meet Tony’s briefly before he looked back down, cheeks dusted pink.  “Thanks, Mr. Stark,” he said softly, leaning subtly into his touch. Tony relished the soft strands of hair, the warmth of Peter’s scalp against his skin before finally pulling back, knowing he was quickly broaching ‘weird touch’ territory.

Tony cleared his throat.  “So, finals?  How about you quiz me on some stuff?  See if any of my brains made it back with me?”

“Shouldn’t I be the one being quizzed?  I don’t think asking you questions is going to be super helpful for me,” Peter said with a grin.

“Teaching is the best way to learn, you know,” Tony said, hand waving dismissively.

Peter rolled his eyes.  “Yes, because I’m definitely going to need to teach you engineering concepts.”

“Hey!  You never know, I may be a bit soft in the head now.  I’m counting on you, Professor Parker.”

“Some would say you’ve always been a bit soft in the head,” Peter quipped.

“I would say I resent that, but I’m sure you’re right.  Books.  Now.  Chop chop.”

_____________________________________________________________________

I was originally going to cut parts out of this and make it shorter, but I’m terrible at editing down, so here it is.  

Someone pointed out last post that I mentioned at some point that this might be four parts.  ha!  Definitely going to be more than that.  Not sure how much, but we shall see.  I’ve got a few future scenes written out, I just need to get there (yikes).  I also mentioned that the starker would start here aaaaand I lied again.  Seriously y’all, don’t ever believe a word I say about future updates that haven’t been written.

Tag list: @starkerprince @peachbabytarte  I feel like I’m missing somebody?  If I am, super sorry!!!!!

Part 4 - Tony is Iron Man. Plus, Tony gets to go home.

[almasexya]

Samurai Statue Stomp (Daimajin, 1966)

Alright, it’s time for a detour.

Up until now every monster movie we’ve covered, aside from the Mysterians, has included a flesh and blood beast that goes around flattening things. In Daimajin, the titular kaiju isn’t really a kaiju at all, but a wrathful god bent on getting revenge for its subjects.

Daimajin was a Daiei project, but it couldn’t be more different than Gamera vs. Barugon, which it apparently double-billed with, I imagine to its detriment, as Daimajin is far and away the better film, and honestly superior to the vast majority of Godzilla outings out there.

It’s hard to point to just any one thing in Daimajin that works. It’s a period piece, which always seems to lend a certain amount of unquantifiable respectability to a project. The plot is direct and despite its relative simplicity (and the fact that it would be more or less repeated in the subsequent two Daimajin offerings) it manages to keep you interested with a small cast of easily-defined heroes and villains. The effects are first-rate, honestly some of the best in the genre, with the direction and cinematography absolutely dripping with mood and gravitas in nearly every scene. To put it bluntly, Daimajin ain���t fucking around.

The plot can honestly be summed up in a single sentence (an evil warlord takes control of the castle, and the tormented subjects pray to their protector god for help) but it deserves more than that, if only because it wrings plenty of substance out of well-worn tropes. The evil warlord, in this case a lesser lord named Samanosuke (Ryutaro Gomi) stages a coup during a festival to drive away an evil spirit, or majin, that gets blamed for earthquakes and other natural disasters. The castle lord’s two children escape the chaos with a loyal retainer and hide deep in the woods near a large, serene statue of their god, where they live in fear of being discovered by Samanosuke’s men.

Then years go by, with the children Tadafumi and Kozasa Hanabusa (Yoshihiko Aoyama and Miwa Takada respectively) having grown into adulthood in seclusion. Meanwhile Samanosuke is doing the usual evil warlord things, enslaving the populace and exhausting them with massive building projects, complete with literal slave drivers hitting children with whips. Tired of waiting for their moment to cause a revolt and remove Samanosuke, Tadafumi and his retainer both try and devise ways to sneak into the castle, which of course fail miserably. Samanosuke eventually sends his men into the god’s forest to capture Kozasa and destroy the statue, which promptly wakes up in response to the princess’ prayers and begins laying a deific smackdown on any bad guys within reach. Except the god doesn’t show up - instead, the majin does, sporting a wicked visage and an equally violent attitude.

While there’s more to it, including a subplot involving a little boy who begs the displaced royals for help, the plot mainly consists of the evil warlord slowly tightening his grip over the helpless villagers, until finally divine intervention is the only savior they can hope for.

And what divine intervention it is! When the titular Daimajin marches on the castle, the skies darken and the wind howls, the score bellowing at you to make it clear, if you weren’t aware already, just how frightening this moment is.

The Daimajin suit itself is a feat for a rubber suit, a massive, heavy beast with a snarling expression and a set of armor that despite being made of latex, absolutely evokes stone. Despite being far smaller than Godzilla or Gamera, Daimajin’s footsteps thunder far more resonantly, and the soldiers before him are just as useless as the usual tanks and planes that throw themselves at Godzilla and co. A special shoutout goes to suit actor Chikara Hashimoto, who made sure never to blink when he was on camera, just furthering that look of unstoppable, divine rage.

Being only around 20 feet tall, Daimajin interacts almost solely with human soldiers to brilliant effect. The matte shots putting the samurai in the same shots as the giant statue are nearly seamless, but effects director Yoshiyuki Kuroda (who also directed the effects for the two sequels) also built to scale leg and arm props for the Daimajin, which allowed the creature to stomp on people and throw them around. Looking at his IMDB page, the guy had only directed the special effects on a single prior film, which you’d absolutely not expect given the caliber of what he pulled off here.

The rest of the crew also deserve plenty of credit, with writer Tetsuro Yoshida penning the grim samurai script and legendary maestro Akira Ifukube writing the period-evocative score. Director Kimiyoshi Yasuda treats nearly every scene with a solemn grace, often lingering on shots or having extended scenes with little dialogue at all. A standout section, aside from the climactic confrontation with Daimajin, is when the two children and their retainer are trekking to their final sanctuary, with a rushing waterfall behind them, the great statue peering down from just out of reach. When I say there’s a lot to love about this movie, I’m not kidding.

It absolutely breaks my balls, then, that absolutely none of these guys got within spitting distance of a Gamera movie. It’s difficult to find records of how much money was thrown at these projects, but it boggles the mind that Daiei had a team that could create a special effects picture to rival the original Godzilla, and never gave them the keys to their own burgeoning kaiju franchise. But aside from the experiment with Gamera vs. Barugon, Noriaki Yuasa and Niisan Takahashi remained the men behind the wheel for the rest of the franchise until Gamera Super Monster put a pin in the whole rotten mess.

But that is a story for another day. Instead, we have two more Daimajin pictures to dive into before Daiei retired their other franchise-starter, and while neither of the sequels match the intensity of the original, they’re all damn fine genre pictures, and if you can find them out there in the world, they’re absolutely worth the watch.

[imamotherfuckingstar-lord]

The BBC

Quentin Beck x Reader, Deadpool x Platonic! Reader

Warning: bad language.

A/N: This was just pure fun to write.

Summary: Wade invites you to a super-secret bar, where you meet someone new.

You stood in front of an apartment building, the entire complex was dark and clearly no one had been living in it for years. Pulling out the small white business card that magically appeared under door of your room at the Avengers’ facility, you made sure you had the correct address. Call you curious or an idiot, you decided it was something you needed to investigate, because obviously someone wanted to see you. You walked over to the front doors, but they were locked, and you figured there had to another entrance. So, you went around the building – checking for another way in. Finding one in the form of a back-door, which was not chained up, you walked into the apartment building. It was gross, a whole lot of dusty and dark.  Tapping on your watch that a certain genius billionaire had made you, a bright light flashed from it, letting you see where the hell you were going.

“Jesus, I’m in a freaking horror movie.”

“More like a B-horror movie,” a voice echoed behind you.

You jumped, because let’s admit it, someone sneaking behind you in a dark place was scary as hell – no matter how badass you were. Flashing the light to where the voice came from, you were confronted with a familiar face, well, mask.

“For fucksake, Wade.”

“Hello to you too, hot pants,” he said, holding a hand up to avoid the light. “Turn that shit off! The good guys might find us.”

“I am the good guy,” you insisted, turning off the watch; squinting to see Wade in front of you.

“Technically, you aren’t…remember the whole pissing contest your beloved 100 YEAR OLD VIRGIN and Iron-Douche had? If I recall you were on The Virgin’s side, so you’re technically a bad guy.”

“I beg to differ,” you argued, flicking the white business card at the merc. “Why was this under my door?”

Wade bent down to retrieve the card and leaned forward to place it in the front pocket of your jean jacket. “Because my sweet tart, you are part of the club now.”

“I don’t want to be part of any club…”

“Too bad, so fucking sad,” he remarked, motioning for you to follow him. “Come on, the others are drinking all the good beer.”

Others?

A part of you wanted to turn around and go back home, but the part of you that liked rebelling – the part of you that rebelled with Steve and the others, sighed and followed Wade down to the basement of the apartment building. Contrary to the rest of the joint, the basement hallway was lit up and looked decent, a heavy metal door stood at the end of it. Wade pulled off his mask and smiled at you, winking like a perv and holding out his hand to you.

“Do you trust me?”

“Fuck off, Aladdin. Just open the door and let’s get this over with.”

He did, and boy, were you surprised.

It was like a high-class bar, outshined the one Tony had, for sure, and it was packed. You weren’t sure where the hell you were, but as you followed Wade to the back bar, you started to notice certain faces. Loki was sitting in a corner with two ladies, his body leaned into theirs as he talked to them. His eyes met yours and he grinned, giving you a curt nod before going back to his conversation. Then there was the fucking Punisher himself, sulking in a booth alone – you didn’t even want to make eye contact with him, that man was unsettling. You spotted Cable playing pool with some man in a getup that looked like something Thor would wear, you had never seen him, but he looked over at you when Cable flipped off Wade when he shouted out his name. The mystery man stared at you for a moment, as if he was studying you before turning to Cable.

“Oh, shit, he’s hot,” you whispered as Wade and you pulled up to the bar.

Wade glanced back in the direction of the pool table and snorted. “I mean, I would not not fuck that Winter Solider wannabe.”

“Yeah, I wasn’t talking about Cable,” you laughed, deciding the place wasn’t so bad, even though it had an interesting clientele. “Whose that guy with him? Thor’s cousin?”

“He fucking wishes; I fucking wish…”

“Wade.”

“Right, right. That’s Mysterio – I know what you’re thinking; FINALLY THEY GAVE JAKE GYLLENHAAL A ROLE IN THE MCU. I mean, I would Brokeback Mountain his ass any day.”

You thanked the bartender when he placed a beer in front of you before looking at Wade in pure wonderment. “I have no clue what you are talking about or who this Jake guy is, but you dragged me here and I need to know why.”

Tossing his mask on the counter, Wade lifted his beer and held it up. “Let’s cheer to you becoming a new member of the Gray Area Regime. GAY for short.”

“That doesn’t make sense – you know what, who cares,” you declared, clinking your beer against Wade’s. The two of you smiled at each other and proceeded to down the beer in seconds flat, the merc slapped his hand on the counter and asking for another round.

“So what does being in the GAY mean? Do I get a discount at Costco or something?”

“Yes! And access to this shithole.”

Sighing, because you had never thought when you joined the Avengers that you’d be in some secret lair bar with other people who have done some questionable shit in their line of work. Yeah, you were for the most part a hero, but you had to admit, there had been more than a few gray areas on your ledger.

Fuck, you probably should tell Nat about this place…

“Well, good sir,” you chimed, accepting your place in this fucked up society of misfits who probably killed hundreds of people. “How about you go introduce me to that Trouble with Cable.”

Wade stood straight, bringing a hand to his forehead, giving you a salute. “It would be your pleasure.”

Grabbing your second beer, you followed Wade to the pool table. Cable groaned as the merc skipped over to him, throwing an arm him to bring him closer. “So, me and little Miss Avenger want to play next game.”

“Hey Nathan,” you said, giving him a wave as you stopped in front of the pool table.

“Hey Y/N. What are you doing here? You’re too good to be in this filthy place.”

You laughed at Nathan’s honestly and glanced at Thor’s fake cousin, who gave you a slight smile as he held onto his pool cue. “Wade apparently thought I’d fit right in.”

“Yeah, she’s killed enough people now,” Wade beamed, hanging onto Cable. “So, FISHBOWL this is Y/N. Y/N this is FISHBOWL.”

“Fishbowl…” you questioned, looking at Mysterio for answers.

He smirked then, leaning his cue against the table to reach out a hand to you. “I’m Quentin.”

Taking his hand, which was nice and warm, you examined him closely – he was fine as fuck, plain and simple. The hair, the weird getup that did things to you, the smile, the big sad ass eyes, and the beard; holy shit the beard.

“I’m Y/N. It’s nice to meet –“

You introduction was immediately interrupted by a song blasting over your voice; it was familiar and you looked over to Wade, who was holding out his cell in your direction.

“I knew you were trouble when you walked in…”

“Is that Taylor Swift?”

“It is indeed TayTay,” Wade nodded, pointing  to your hand, which was still holding onto Quentin’s.

Embarrassed, you pulled back and smiled at the man. “I would apologize for Wade, but I wouldn’t know where to start.”

Quentin laughed, looking to the bar behind you. “Maybe I can get you a beer?”

“She already has one,” Wade pointed out, huffing when Cable nudged him in the ribs. “I mean… that beer is tainted!”

The mercenary stormed over to you and snatched the beer, tossing it over his shoulder. The glass shattered behind him and Wade fetched a few dollar bills from his pocket, nodding to Quentin. “Bad beer. Here’s some money, go get her a new one, Thor’s less attractive fake cousin.”

Ignoring the burning rage to tear Wade a new one, you smiled at Quentin and agreed that you could use a new beer. He said for you to lead the way, so you did, the two of you leaving the pool area for the bar counter. As you sat down and he ordered the drinks, you gave him another once over but he caught you mid look and laughed.

“You were just checking me out, weren’t you?”

“The lighting is really bad by the pool table, so I was just getting another look.”

“Everything good?”

“100%.”

The two of you chuckled, and when the beers arrived, Quentin looked down at the money Wade gave him. “These are Canadian dollars.”

“He’s such a prick,” you sighed, attempting to pull out money from your pocket until Quentin objected.

“I got you,” he insisted, turning his body to you. He paid and took a sip of the beer, asking if you minded him asking you a personal question.

“Go ahead.”

“Why are you really here?”

You stared at Quentin, his eyes on you with this intense fire that matched the way you felt when you were doing what you loved; fighting. “Long story; I’m an Avenger or was, honestly I don’t know what’s going on there. My whole team is all sorts of fucked up at the moment, and I guess I have to admit in my line of work things can get morally complicated. We do things to save people but at what cost? We destroy things to fix them, we save people but there is always collateral damage.”

“You sound like gray area material.”

“I guess, what about you?”

Quentin’s face fell and he glanced down at his drink before meeting your glance. “Truthfully, I’m severely treading the line of gray and black. I want the glory, the fame, and I’d do anything to get it.”

His admission should have scared you, you’d be lying if it didn’t for a fleeting moment, but damn you couldn’t help but feel for him. Maybe you were in the right place; maybe Wade was right to invite you to be a part of the GAY.

Again, the acronym made no sense, but maybe this place did.

Was Frank Castle truly a bad guy? And Loki – wasn’t he just misunderstood? You had known Wade for years, and yes he killed people, but he killed bad people – like you did.

Right?

“Did I lose you?”

“No,” you said quietly, brushing away all thoughts. “I get you, Quentin. So how about we cheer to being morally complicated?”

Okay, maybe he wasn’t morally complicated, he might be just a downright bad guy, but for some reason you just didn’t care.

He smiled down at his beer, before lifting it against yours. The two of you cheered and drank, keeping your eyes on each other until you couldn’t contain it anymore and asked if he wanted to leave.

“I would invite you to my house, but…”

“No, I get it,” he said, placing the empty mug down. “My place isn’t far from here.”

You watched as he got off the stool, looking handsome in his probably villain suit, and you smiled at him, asking if he’d give you a moment to say bye to Wade. He nodded and said he’d be waiting outside, and you waited for him to be out of sight before beelining it to your friend.

“Alright. I’m taking off, Wade.”

He did a double take to were Quentin and you were seated, clapping his hands obnoxiously when he realized what went down. “You getting the BBC!”

“Isn’t that a British channel?”

“It means BIG BAD COCK.”

Nathan looked at you. “You have to make him stop.”

“If I could I would,” you declared, reaching over to give Wade a smack on the face. “Thanks for the invite, I’ll see you later. Nathan, make sure Wadey gets home safe.”

The two men said goodbye and proceeded to argue over whose turn it was as you walked away. You started moving through the bar, waving at Loki as you made it to the door, but an act of bravely had you glancing over to were Frank was sitting. The man was staring down at his beer until he looked up, his eyes locking onto yours. He gave you a slight nod and went back to his sulking, and suddenly you felt like you were at home.

Laughing mostly to yourself, you left the bar and walked out to the basement hall, up the stairs and right to the back entrance – where Quentin stood under the moonlight.

He was physically attractive, that much was true, but there was something about Quentin – there was more to him than he was showing and you wanted to know it all, badly.

He asked if you were ready, reaching out his hand to you.

It felt different then when Wade had done it, it felt dangerous; exciting.

Taking it, the two of you started walking off until you announced you had something to ask.

“Yeah?”

“What was Wade talking about when he called you FISHBOWL?”

Quentin laughed heartily, squeezing your hand. “Yeah, I can’t really explain it, I’ll just have to show you.”

Oh, yeah – you were so getting the BBC.

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[suddenrundown]

                           All the Time in the World: Chapter 16 

Read previous chapter

Regeneration was always the same.

Like a movie on pause, they’d freeze, which was always uncomfortable and disorienting no matter how many times it happened, and then came the weird, uncomfortable pulling sensation that meant they were being put back to their recorded states. Lup always felt like it was instantaneous and never-ending all at once, but there thankfully was an end to it, and when she was back in control and free to move, she would reach for Taako’s hand to find him reaching back. And with her hand in his and the reassurance that they both were fine, she’d look in Barry’s direction, and always find him already glancing back, a comforting smile on his face.

This time, Lup didn’t look, and she knew he didn’t either. 

Continued under the cut, or you can read it on ao3

                                                              ~

Lup felt the cool evening breeze and sighed as she watched people walk by from her spot on a bench. None of them seemed to be in any kind of hurry as they lazily strolled into open shops and stopped to talk to each other. She heard a group of kids squeal laughing somewhere in the distance. They all just seemed...content.

Good for them.

“You feeling better yet?” she asked, looking over at Taako next to her.

With his head leaned back, Taako cracked his eyes open and slid his glance over to her, then closed them again. “Five more minutes,” he mumbled. 

“Told you not to eat so much,” she chastised with another sigh. 

“I was starved.” He opened his eyes again and picked his head up. “Somebody was hell-bent on practicing magic to the point of exhaustion instead of, I don’t know, eating lunch at any point.”

“We were on a roll.” Lup folded her arms and turned away, suddenly looking for a fight. “My bad, though, didn’t think an afternoon of magic practice with me would make you so grumpy and weird.”

“Right,” Taako grumbled, shifting again. “There’s only room for one of us to be grumpy and weird at a time.”

Well that took the wind out of her sails. She huffed out another sigh but didn’t say anything else, granting Taako another five minutes to work through his food coma from the restaurant they’d gone to for dinner. He deserved it, because he was right. Of the two of them, he wasn’t the one with the problem, but he was the one who had to deal with her for the past month. Taako hadn’t asked for an explanation and she had made no attempts at offering one. 

What the hell would she even say? “I fucked up and let my feelings for Barry make things super weird. And then he caught on and tried to let me down gently, but I was a big baby and couldn’t deal with that, so I ghosted him, which apparently didn’t bother him because he never came looking for me so I guess we aren’t friends now, and I don’t want to see him, but I’ll always have to because that’s just how our lives work”?

Yeah, she wasn’t gonna tell him that. 

“Sorry, Ko,” she said simply instead. 

With a grunt, Taako was suddenly on his feet then with a hand held out, offering to pull her up. “It’s all good. Come on.”

“We can stay a little longer,” she offered, staring up at him.

“Nah, I’ll just walk it off,” he replied. He wiggled his fingers, motioning for her to take his offered hand. “But let’s just take it easy when we get home, deal?”

“Deal,” she said, grabbing it and letting him pull her up. She’d find something else to occupy her time. 

They took off down the town’s dirt road, making their way just as slow as the rest of the people around them, both too tired for anything else. They had definitely overdone it, Lup realized, and that one was on her. She hadn’t really noticed how intense she was being about the whole thing in an effort not to think about Barry, and she silently promised to chill the fuck out and leave Taako out of her drama. 

Too tired to make conversation, she continued people-watching as they walked, paying very little attention to anything in particular until she noticed that they were slowly approaching a small group of people gathered on the side of the dirt path. The small crowd grew a little bigger as people exiting shops grew curious as well and wandered up. As she and Taako got closer, she could see that the crowd was forming a half circle around a halfling man, who had a black case for some sort of musical instrument at his feet. 

Lup heard the onlookers collectively chuckle at some joke the halfling must have told as he sat on a stool and reached down for the case on the ground. He sat the small case on his lap, unlocked it, and pulled out a dark red bow and then a black violin, holding both with care as he leaned to put the case back down. The halfling wiggled in his seat, feet not quite touching the ground, and lifted the violin to his shoulder. 

“Oh,” he said in a cheerful voice as he bent down on the other side of the stool and sat back up again, a gray patterned flat cap in his hands. He put the cap on top of his shoulder length, dark wavy hair somewhat theatrically, trying to get the angle right. “Aesthetic,” he explained with a laugh, earning him a few more chuckles as he lifted the violin once more. With a flourish, he moved the bow into position as well. “Stop me if you’ve heard this one,” he grinned, and then began to play as Taako and Lup passed.

“Hey Taako, are you busy?” a muffled voice asked, hesitant and gravelly.

Lup’s heart leaped and then immediately sank. Barry.

Taako stopped as he reached into one of the many pockets of his faded IPRE robe and pulled out his stone of farspeech. “Barold! Nah, not busy, Lup and I are just on our way back to our pad.”

“O-oh, right, you and, uh, Lup are...how is it there?”

“Eh, you know, it’s a place. With people and things.” He paused to glance at Lup, who hadn’t made any sort of sound and, even now, offered nothing to help Taako’s lackluster description of the area they’d settled in for the year. She absentmindedly fiddled with her stone’s string that hung around her neck, hoping she looked more chill than she felt. “No one’s trying to kill us, which is always appreciated,” Taako added as he eyed the string, and then his gaze briefly slid to Lup’s face, where she could tell he was looking at her hair. She’d cut it into a pixie cut and added a couple of red streaks through it at the beginning of the cycle. It looked rad, but she had a feeling that that wasn’t the reason Taako was taking notice of it now. She really had to come up with better coping skills. His expression didn’t change as he looked back to the stone in his hand. “Plenty of magic users, so we’re taking advantage.”

“Sounds like a good place to be.”

“It’s alright. How’s it where you are?”

“It’s amazing!” Barry answered, excitement evident in his voice, and Lup could picture him when he said it. 

Which sucked. She really didn’t want to.

As he launched into a no doubt long-winded explanation of his current life, Lup pretended to get distracted by the halfling violinist and moved away from Taako to join the crowd of listeners. The halfling was in the middle of a fast, jaunty piece that didn’t match the way she felt at that moment at all, but it was a welcome distraction from her thoughts. 

Honestly, she welcomed any sort of distraction. 

It had been so long since she’d talked to Barry. After that day in the lab, she laid low for the rest of the cycle and managed not to see him. She had no idea what happened with the experiments they were conducting at the Institute or if Barry even continued working there without her. She hoped she didn’t screw that up for him, at least. Maybe he came up with a good enough excuse for her absence and managed to do it. For her part, she kept busy exploring the city with Lucretia, working out with Magnus, and bothering Taako at work. 

It was a lot more difficult to find distractions in this new cycle, and the group had more or less split up. Barry was the first, actually; he’d apparently heard that there were powerful necromancers in some town or other, and jumped at the chance to go and study under them for the year. She and Taako had found that Torrine, the town they currently lived in, was a great resource for wizards with skills like theirs, and they knew that they could use a year to hone their skills. No matter how badass they already were, nothing they ever did was enough to stop the Hunger, which only seemed to get stronger each year. They had to keep up.

Merle had made comments about wanting to go Church of Pan planting this cycle, but it had been a month or so and she and Taako hadn’t heard from him one way or the other. Magnus, Lucretia, and Davenport had volunteered to search for the Light this cycle. No news from them, either. Lup assumed no news was good news, but she missed them. She knew that all she had to do was use her stone, but she also knew that it really hadn’t been that long and she was just out of sorts in general and didn’t really have anything to say to anybody. Still, it was a comfort to know that her friends were only as far as her stone.

Except for Barry, who she felt like couldn’t be farther from her reach.

The little crowd applauded as the halfling’s song ended, and Lup belatedly followed suit as the halfling started another tune, this one much slower and far less lively than the first. Lup didn’t have much experience with musical instruments and hadn’t really given the concept much thought, but there was something about watching this guy play. There was something so...graceful about it. Maybe it was how the instrument rested delicately under the guy’s chin, or how he maneuvered the bow across the strings. She really couldn’t pinpoint what it was. All she knew was that it was beautiful.

She didn’t notice that Taako had come to stand beside her until she felt him bump her shoulder.

“Barry says ‘hey,’” he told her as he watched the halfling.

Sadly, she doubted that. “I say ‘hey’ back,” she replied anyway.

They both stood and listened for a few moments longer before Lup reached up and thumped Taako’s silly, wide hat. “Let’s go pass out at home, shall we?’

“Sounds ideal,” Taako said as he readjusted the hat and they set off again, leaving the halfling and his violin behind. 

                                                              ~

“I really don’t think I miss dogs that much until I see them, and then it’s just like oh shit, that’s what’s been missing in my life!”

Lup laughed at the earnestness in Magnus’s voice, and a few people gave her curious glances as they passed her on the sidewalk. “I feel you.”

“I know it hasn’t been that long since we had that cycle where there was nothing but dogs, but there haven’t been any since then.”

“It’s a long time to go without.”

“Dav wouldn’t let me bring one along. Even for a little bit.”

“Aw, boo!”

“I mean, he’s right, how am I gonna take care of a dog?” Magnus conceded wistfully.

“Booooo!” 

She heard him chuckle as she turned from the shop window she’d been glancing into and continued wandering. “Boo.”

“Anything else going on with you?” she asked.

“Nah, not really. You?”

Lup began to respond in the negative, but stopped short when she got distracted by a vaguely familiar sight coming out of a little cafe on the opposite side of the street. A halfling man with wavy hair and a hat, this time a dark red instead of gray, skipped down the shop steps and took off down the street. 

“Lup?”

“Uh, yeah, nothing interesting to report,” she answered as she curiously headed in the direction the halfling had bounded off in. 

“Alright, well, I guess I’ll let you get back to it!”

“It” was now apparently stalking a halfling for no reason. “Miss you, Mags,” she said.

“Miss you too!”

She stuck the stone back in her pocket and continued tailing the halfling. After a few minutes, he entered a shop and Lup watched the door close behind him before she stood in front of the building. From the signage, it seemed to be a music shop. Made sense. Maybe he worked there. Lup found herself opening the door and walking in before she really decided to do so or could come up with a reason why. A little bell on the door tinkled as she did.

“Afternoon!”

“Hey,” Lup replied somewhat awkwardly as she glanced around at the various instruments that hung from the walls. She looked over and saw the halfling behind a counter, flipping through pages of some book, minding his own business. The exact opposite of whatever the hell she was doing. 

“Need help with anything?” 

“Uh, not really?” It came out sounding like a question, and she felt embarrassed by how awkward she probably sounded. 

The halfling glanced up. “Just looking?”

“Yeah...never been here before.”

“But you don’t need help,” he replied with an amused smile. 

“I mean…” She glanced over at a violin propped against the all. “Actually,” she pointed towards it, forging ahead despite her awkwardness, “you play violin, right? I saw you walking and recognized you from when you played on the street a few weeks back.”

“I do!” he exclaimed. “All the time! But not publicly all that often. Just when the mood strikes. Wait.” He raised an eyebrow. “I shouldn’t be worried that you followed me in here, right?”

“What? No, I wasn’t following you!” She felt her face go red, mortified. “Well, I guess technically I was, but your music was awesome and I just wanted to…” She had no idea how to finish the thought.

“So you’re not a crazy fan, you’re just a fan,” he said with a laugh, clearly not actually all that concerned by her presence as he came around the counter. 

“Of the violin, yes,” she clarified. “Or, I guess I am. Haven’t really paid attention before.”

“I’m honored to have been paid attention to,” he said, taking his hat off his head and giving a dramatic, sweeping bow. 

Lup chuckled, grateful that the guy took her social blunder in stride. He secured his hat to his head again and came to stand beside her as she gazed at the violin by the wall again. 

“So you’re not that familiar with the violin, huh?” he asked.

“Not at all,” she replied. 

“Hmm...would you like to be?”

She turned to face him “Huh?”

“This is a music shop, and I give lessons. I’d be happy to teach you, if you’re interested.”

Not what she’d been expecting, but when would she get another opportunity like this? Lup loved picking up new skills! And if she was looking for something to take her mind off of...everything, then this sounded perfect. “Yeah, for sure!”

The halfling smiled and stuck out his hand. “My name’s Zenrin. Friends call me Zen for short.” He paused then, seeming to consider something. “You can call me Zen,” he finished with a wink.

Lup took Zen’s smaller hand in her own. “I’m Lup. Just Lup.” She grinned. “It’s not short for anything.”

“Alright, Just Lup,” Zen chuckled, “when do you want to start?”

                                                               ~

Over the course of the next month, Lup spent much of her downtime at the music shop. Zen’s teaching style was pretty informal, and he didn’t seem to bother with things like schedules or actual spaces designated for learning. Instead, Lup showed up whenever and stood behind the counter, violin in hand, while Zen simultaneously taught her and ran the shop. It probably wasn’t a normal arrangement, but it worked for her. The flexibility let her have as much practice as she wanted. Which, as it turned out, was a hell of a lot. 

Violin was hard. 

“Hand in first position yet, Just Lup?”

Lup cut her eyes down to where Zen sat on a stool, tuning some other instrument. Her middle finger slipped from position and she took a moment to fix it before answering. “Um, I think so?”

Zen put his instrument down and stood on top of his stool to check her. “There you go, you got it. Now,” he grunted as he hopped back down, “what’s F-sharp?”

She raised her bow and, with face screwed up in concentration, moved it back and forth over the string, and then smiled triumphantly. It sounded pretty good!

“Beautiful!”

“Yeah?” she asked, excited.

“If I’d asked you to play B, that is,” he chuckled.

“Aw, damn.”

“It’s fine,” Zen said encouragingly. He looked up then as the bell on the door rang and a customer walked in. “Hi there!” he called, picking up the instrument he was tuning and walking off. “F-sharp, Just Lup,” he said over his shoulder.

“Wait-”

“F-sharp!”

As she watched him go, Lup dropped her bow arm and swung it back and forth for a moment before raising it again and hovering over the strings. Okay, F-sharp. That one was B, so this one-

“That’s G-sharp!”

Lup made a face that Zen wouldn’t be able to see over the top of the aisle and dropped her playing stance completely, electing to wait for him to finish his business before continuing. At least she was pretty sure which string it actually was now that she eliminated almost all of the other options. 

After a few minutes, the customer left and Zen came back, looking up at her expectantly. With a dramatic flourish, Lup raised both her violin and bow into position, found the string, and played it with just as much theatrics. She raised an eyebrow expectantly. 

Zen tipped the front of his hat (one of the many he owned; this one was dark blue) and lowered it down to rest on his chest. “F-sharp,” he sighed dreamily, “music to my ears.”

This, Lup knew, wasn’t so much theatrical as much as Zen was just like that; he seemed to just romanticize most things in life. “Thanks!”

“Now that you’re warmed up,” he said as he bent down to reach into one of the counter’s drawers, “ready to play a little?” He produced a couple of beginner practice books and lined them out on the wooden surface.  

“As long as you don’t pick one that’s super heavy on the F-sharp,” she joked.

“Actually,” he replied with a chuckle, “I think the heavier the better, don’t you?”

                                                                       ~

Sometimes, Lup offered to help Zen with odd jobs around the shop in lieu of practicing. She figured she owed him something, since he had insisted on her paying him nothing at all for the lessons, despite how often she argued the point in the beginning that she took up so much of his time and also, wasn’t this his job? He continuously claimed that his time was freely given and that he would be spending it doing much of the same had she not been there at all until she stopped bringing it up. The least she could do in return was help him out when he needed it.

“Apologies if you can’t match up some of the receipts described in the ledger,” he told her one day as he sat on top of the counter, restringing a guitar. “I’m not very good at being detail oriented.”

Lup looked up from the stool she sat on, receipts scattered and ledger open in front of her. “It’s cool, I’m figuring it out. This is making me think of my friend Lucretia, though,” she added. “I think she’d have a heart attack. She’s never missed a detail in her life.”

“Alas, if I only had my own Lucretia,” he sniffed.

The subject of the IPRE had come up on occasion, although Lup had given Zen a very watered down explanation. As far as he knew, Lup had a brother and five friends she was in business with, and that business would eventually need her back home. She might have felt guilty about not telling him everything and warning him about the Hunger, and she had for a while, but Davenport had called last week to inform her and Taako that they’d found the Light, so she figured Zen and this world would ultimately be fine and she had no reason to worry him. He knew very little about her life apart from some random stories about her friends, but she also knew very little about his personal life, so it seemed fair to her. She was grateful he wasn’t the type to pry.

“So there’s Lucretia, Taako, and who else again?”

Or, he mostly wasn’t.

“Davenport’s our boss, then there’s Merle, Barry, and Magnus,” she replied.

“Oh, yeah,” he said, and then lapsed into silent concentration.

Lup did the same until a few minutes later when he commented,

“You don’t talk much about Barry.”

She whipped her head up to look at him. “What?”

“Just an observation,” he replied, looking down at her.

“That’s not-I mean, sure I do!” She felt her face growing red.

“I’m not accusing you of anything,” he said, expression more somber than it generally tended to be. “I just realized I can think of a few stories about each of your friends, but I can’t recall one about him. You make all of them sound so lovely, I wondered what could be wrong about that guy that you wouldn’t talk about him.”

“There isn’t anything wrong with Barry,” she protested. “He’s smart, and he’s kind, and he’s loyal, super funny and like, a dozen other things, and he’s one of my best friends.”

He was, she remembered painfully.

“My mistake then,” he replied sincerely, that somber expression not quite leaving his face. “I meant no offense.”

“It’s fine,” she answered, and managed a small smile. “I’m not offended.”

He nodded and turned back to his task. Lup distractedly shuffled through receipts. 

“Someone broke my heart once,” Zen commented quietly.

“Barry didn’t break my heart,” Lup insisted, suddenly irritated. “No one did!”

“I wasn’t talking about your heart, Just Lup,” he said, turning to look down at her once again. 

“O-oh.” She pretended to flip through the ledger nonchalantly, willing her heart rate to return to normal and her face to stop feeling like it was on fire. “What happened?”

“There was a girl I loved that I couldn’t find the words to tell her how I felt. She got tired of waiting and asked me, but I still couldn’t do it, and the words I didn’t say drove her off.”

Lup knew she couldn’t really relate, but she did understand the loss perfectly well. “How did…” she swallowed a lump in her throat and tried again, still staring at the ledger. “How did you deal with it?”

“Violin.” Zen replied. “I spent hours composing, writing and re-writing, and perfecting a song that I thought would represent my feelings.” He moved his hand so that it rested on the page of the ledger, forcing Lup to finally look up. “What is music if not an expression of the soul?”

Zen saw the world through rose colored glasses. She never had, and certainly didn’t have the luxury to for the last 25 years, but she couldn’t help but ask anyway, “How’d that work out for you?”

He smiled then for the first time in the conversation and pointed to the wall behind her. “Oh, I played it for her and she married me.”

On the wall behind her was a picture she hadn’t noticed before of Zen and a halfling woman stuck to the wall. It was a candid shot of the pair laughing at something, neither one appearing to be at all brokenhearted.

“Cute,” she said with a grin as she turned back to face him. 

“I love her more than I love music,” Zen practically swooned.

“Do you want a minute?” Lup joked.

“No,” he sighed. He looked away from the wall back to her and picked up the guitar beside him. “My point is that music is meant to be a healing thing, and sometimes, if you let it, it can solve a problem you didn’t know could be fixed.”

Lup had no reason to believe it would ever solve any of the problems she had, and Zen might not either if he knew about them, but she nodded in acceptance anyway, and he turned to continue fixing his guitar, no doubt satisfied that he’d swayed just one more soul over to the power of music and its magical healing properties.

If only. 

                                                                 ~

The game of “let’s see how high we can get the pile of dishes in the sink” had gone on long enough, and even though Lup didn’t want to be the one who caved, she had decided to take one for the team anyway. It hadn’t taken that long after all, and as she rinsed the suds off the last bowl, gave herself a mental high five and reasoned that she was the true winner of the Lup and Taako household games. For reasons. 

She dried her hands off and then stepped back to look at her handiwork, grinning triumphantly. That shit sparkled. She needed to make sure Taako appropriately ooh’ed and ahh’ed. Also, she needed to make a dishwashing chart. 

“Oh, Taako,” she called, singsong, “guess what I decided?”

“So Taako,” a voice that was decidedly not her brother’s said from somewhere in the room, “I need your thoughts about something. And yeah, it’s about necromancy, which I know you said gives you the heebie jeebies, but hear me out, because-”

Barry again. Lup sighed and looked out into the kitchen to see Taako’s stone of farspeech sitting on the table. Barry chattering away, unaware Taako wasn’t listening. 

“Taako, Barry’s looking for you!” She waited a moment for him to reply, huffing out a breath when he didn’t answer. “Taako!” 

                                                             ~

Barry hadn’t really felt this excited about studying something new in quite a while. For one thing, it had been a long time since he’d applied himself this much in anything that wasn’t Light related, and that got a little monotonous on occasion. Also, no one he knew now or had ever met in his old life had been into necromancy to his knowledge, which gave him the silly feeling of being special. Granted, maybe the reason people tended to stay away from it was due to the fact that it was dark magic, but that wasn’t really an issue for him. Any type of magic could be dark if it was used incorrectly. It was all about intentions, and Barry had only the best of intentions. Hunger-defeating intentions, in fact.

Although that was only a theory. He had no idea if this would help in that endeavor at all, but everything else they had tried over the years had failed. Perhaps this would do the trick. “This”, however, was not much at all; his skill level was hardly anything to write home about yet. But he would keep at it until he became a proficient necromancer. 

He closed his eyes and concentrated , grasping for the feeling of that magic as he attempted to cast Chill Touch. When he opened his eyes, a misty, skeletal hand hovered in the air in front of him. It reminded him a little of Taako’s mage hand, but his hand could deal a much different type of damage, if he actually had an intended target for it. Excitement coursed through him as a satisfied smile spread across his face. This was excellent. 

The hand disappeared as he dropped his concentration on it. He suddenly wished he was home so that he could tell everyone about his new skill, and then frowned. The excitement dissipated like the ghostly spectral hand as he realized that he really only wanted to tell one specific person.

It had been so long since he had talked to Lup. Not since that day in the lab last cycle, and they were more than halfway through this one. It was all his fault. If he hadn’t been so weak and used the situation they were to play out his feelings for her, thereby using her…

He still felt like shit for that, and felt even worse when he realized she’d noticed. Lup didn’t come back to the lab after that day, in fact he never even saw her anywhere at all. She must have been so weirded out and upset with him for what he’d done, and he didn’t blame her one bit. He would do anything to fix it, to go back in time and make a different decision. Unfortunately, only one event in their lives was able to be reset over and over again, and it wasn’t that. So he had to live with the knowledge that he’d wrecked the perfectly good relationship he had with her through his selfishness of longing for something more. 

He scrubbed a hand over his face, willing himself not to get emotional. Again. He’d cried enough already.

Well, if he couldn’t tell Lup, he could still tell Taako. Taako was still willing to talk to him, so Lup surprisingly must not have told him anything about what happened. He felt a little guilty for capitalizing on that fact, but he was just selfish enough not to want to lose another one of his best friends, so that trumped the guilt, for the most part. 

Taako didn’t actually like talking about necromancy, he said it gave him “both the heebies and the jeebies”, but of the people Barry could talk to, Taako was the most powerful wizard and would have more to say on the subject. Right after he got done complaining about heebie jeebies, of course.  

Barry fished his stone of farspeech out of his pocket and walked towards his apartment balcony. “So Taako,” he said into the stone as he stepped outside, “I need your thoughts about something. And yeah, it’s about necromancy, which I know you said gives you the heebie jeebies, but hear me out, because I’ve been thinking. How well do you think it would fare against the Hunger? Not saying that my skills are anywhere near ready to take it on and win, but say I spent a few years on it. Wait, the Hunger’s not, like, a physical presence, right? It’s like, rainbow colored darkness. Geez, those words don’t even make sense strung together, do they? Anyway, I-”

“Taako’s not here, Barry.”

He almost dropped the stone. “Lup?” he asked, peering down as if he could see who’s frequency he was on. Wait, he called Taako, right? He had been thinking about Lup, and she was still on his mind, obviously, but he’d had the intention of calling Taako-

“Yeah, sorry, I don’t know where Taako is. He left his stone.”

“Oh,” he replied simply, and found he had no idea what to say next. There was a long pause before they both spoke at the same time.

“How are you?”

“I can tell him you were-what?”

He felt himself blush profusely, unsure why he’d blurted that out. “I um, I asked how are you?”

There was another pause before Lup replied. “I’m fine. Missing home.”

I miss you. “Yeah, me too.”

“Are...you doing okay?”

“Same old, same old,” he replied, which wasn’t true. He took a deep breath, steeling himself. “Hey, listen, I-”

“Oh, Taako just walked in. I’ll hand you off to him. See you at regen.”

“O-oh, alright, bye Lup.”

“Barold, if this is about necromancy, I swear on the pages of my best cookbook-”

The rest of Taako’s very long winded threat fell on deaf ears. 

Lup hadn’t even said goodbye.

                                                               ~

After Taako finished his conversation with Barry, Lup crossed her arms. “Way to just leave your stone lying around. Where’d you even go?”

“On a walk. Is that a crime?”

“No, but Barry called looking for you.”

Taako hummed. “He does tend to do that around this time every week.”

Lup blinked. “So you knew he’d call?”

“Figured he would,” he said as he turned to wash his hands in the sink. “But you were here, so you got to talk to him for a sec. So it’s a win-win.” He shut off the sink and turned around to face her as he dried his hands, seeming overly nonchalant. “Isn’t it?”

She stared back at him, trying to gauge if he really was as innocent as he was trying to sound. He didn’t crack, and Lup figured that Taako wasn’t really trying to meddle in her life. Probably.

“Yeah,” she finally replied. “Win-win.”

                                                              ~

With only a few remaining weeks left in the cycle,  Taako and Lup figured it was time to leave. They didn’t want to just disappear from the town without warning once regen hit, so Cap’n Port was coming to pick them up later that day and take them back to whatever city they’d been staying in. After packing up her stuff, Lup headed to town to say goodbye to Zen. 

“Thanks for putting up with me for an entire year,” she told him with a giggle.

Zen gasped dramatically. “Just Lup, how dare you! It was an absolute pleasure to spend so much time with you.”

“I mean, same,” she replied. “You’re a great teacher.”

“Which reminds me.” He picked up his violin case that leaned against the back wall and held it out to her. “I want you to have this.”

“No, come on, I can’t do that,” she protested, flustered. “It’s yours!”

He laughed and looked around. “Have you seen where I work? I have plenty to spare. Also, I will be absolutely shattered if you don’t, so please?”

“Okay okay,” she said hurriedly, taking the case from him. “At least let me pay you for it.”

“Have you ever received a gift before this moment? You’re terrible at it.”

“Thank you, Zen,” she replied, hoping that her tone conveyed as much gratitude as was due. “Really.”

He climbed to stand on top of his stool and smiled. “All you have to do is promise that you’ll keep practicing until you’re better than I am.” He held his arms out to her.

She dropped the case and hugged him, which wasn’t quite as weird as she assumed it would have been given that they’d never hugged before. “I promise I’ll keep practicing,” she said.

“And?” he asked expectantly. 

“And,” she continued, “maybe I’ll write a song for you at some point.”

“I have no doubt you’ll write your own song one day. But not for me,” he continued, pulling away to look at her. “I write plenty of songs for me. Write one for you, from your own heart. Those are the best kinds.”

“If you say so.”

“I do.”

“Alright then, she chuckled as they parted. She reached for the case and then saluted. “Bye, Zen. It’s been real.”

“Indeed it has, Just Lup,” he replied, sweeping his hat off his head for a dramatic bow. “Indeed it has.”

When the door closed behind her, she looked down at Zen’s violin case. Or, her violin case. She liked the violin enough that she’d definitely keep it up, but she doubted she’d ever get to a point when she’d be writing her own music. Seemed like a lot of work. 

And honestly, she thought wryly, what would she ever feel strongly enough to play?