#but golly gee those boys sure did

[questionably-audhd-oracle]

I have really got to get better at gauging how people will naturally respond to the words that come out of my mouth

I mean generally, but also like I think I know intellectually that a lot of the things I went through were fucked up but I keep finding new and more overlooked ways that I was fucked up because I forget that it’s not normal to anyone else and when I bring it up to my new friends or my boyfriend they get very concerned

[danosrosegarden]

*slides across the floor and strikes a pose with a rose in my mouth*

Ok hi it's meee! Idk if you take requests like this, but I had an idea that I think you could write FLAWLESSLY!

Ahem, I've written about Eddie boy being roomies with y/n before...but I wonder...

What if Edward is a huge creep and has this pervy crush on y/n as his roommate? Would he get jealous if they had friends over? Would he get angry if they went on dates? Oh dear, oh gosh, oh golly! What if he steals articles of their clothing for his own personal use?! Gee wilikers! What if he takes pictures of them when they are sleeping?! And what if he gets caught pleasuring himself to those pictures? *gasps dramatically* WHAT WOULD HAPPEN?!

(you dont have to write this if you don't want to i just thought I'd share this idea with a fellow Nashton lover <3)

if only - edward nashton x gn!reader headcanons (slight NSFW)

{contains: jealousy, creep behavior (laundry sniffing, taking secret pictures), and references to masturbation and sex.}

♡ Edward couldn't help that a swarm of bright, buzzing butterflies thumped loud and fast in the cage of his heart each time he laid eyes on you. It really wasn't his fault, it was yours.

♡ You were the perfect fill for his gnawing emptiness. You were shockingly beautiful and sharp as a knife and stupidly hilarious and the best roommate a Gothamite could possibly wish on a star for. He'd wait at the front door each time you went out, tail wagging like a needy puppy, pleading eyes filling with glossy tears. Come back soon, I miss you so much. He'd roll over and do tricks for you. He'd eat out of your hand and nuzzle against your neck, if you'd let him.

♡ For the first time in forever, Edward found himself talking to God again. More, he said. Give me more of them.

♡ You were the sparkling beam of hope in his life. The glittering ray of warm sunshine beaming down on the slushy, gray streets. But that was just the problem. Edward fed his heart that steady diet of unbridled obsession. He'd refresh your social medias like it was his job. He always hungered for more. He'd take measly scraps if it had the slightest trace of you in its aftertaste. He was utterly enamored, and you weren't.

♡ You were kind enough. You always helped with the dishes and never forget your share of the bills. You'd occasionally pick up snacks for him on your way home from work and you had no problem indulging in a movie night with him on the weekends. But you had warm, loving family. You had fun, exciting friends. Worst of all--the nightmare that ripped all the wings off the butterflies fluttering in Edward's heart--you got dates.

♡ He wondered, with a crackling storm of rage drenching him to the bone, if you did it on purpose. If you talked with your friends on the phone extra loud when you knew he was home about how lovely your date was, how handsome he is, how you just can't wait to see him again. For fuck's sake. Edward would buy all the colorful, sweet-smelling flower bouquets in the world, take you to all the expensive restaurants in Gotham. He'd blow those little maggots you saw out of the water. He'd sweep you off your feet and never let you go if only you'd let him.

♡ But he knows the depths of his spiraling infatuation, and he sure knows he'd much rather keep you as a friend than have you be scared of him. Just the thought of you finding the pictures he's secretly snapped of you makes his stomach churn. If you knew of the times he snuck into your room and rifled through your laundry basket to huff your clothes like they were candles, he'd probably jump into the sea with weights attached to his ankles. He was in a fucked up position. The passion he felt for you tingled in his blood and sprouted in his body stronger each day, but with each day you seemed to have another new story about your date, another text message from him to giggle and twirl your hair over, another party to go to. Edward mourned the life he could have if only he could be brave.

♡ Maybe this was it. Maybe he was destined to be the freak stroking himself furiously alone in his bedroom to your lingering scent while you went out and probably got fucked with mediocracy by your stupid date. Maybe it was fate that he'd end up here, stuck whining and bucking his hips to the pictures he'd taken when you weren't looking. Pictures of you making breakfast. Pictures of you solving one of his crosswords. Pictures of you smiling at the TV. Pictures of you living.

♡ He wouldn't take his time with you. Edward would. He wouldn't notice and memorize each whimper, each sigh, each wince. Edward would. He couldn't care like Edward does. If their dedication could stand side by side, he wouldn't even be close to competition.

♡ What a different life he'd be living, if only he had a spine. Maybe someday. Maybe someday he'd get to hold your hand and kiss you until he was breathless. Maybe one day he'd get to snake-charm groans of pleasure out of your throat and bottle them up for himself. For now, he could dream. That was something, right?

[sincerely-sofie]

Sofie's Belated Reactions to Today's Nintendo Direct:

Mario & Luigi: Brothership

I'D KNOW THOSE CRIES OF TERROR ANYWHERE

BEES

LOOK AT MY BOY GO!!!!! YOU MOMENTARILY DEFY THOSE GRAVITIES MAN!!

Wasn't sure about the visuals for the new Mario & Luigi game but they very swiftly grew on me!

ADORABLE CHILD CONNIE I LOVE YOUR HAT

I already love the Extension Corps mini boss squad

"Brothership" is the best title for a Mario & Luigi game oh my word.

(More below the cut!)

Nintendo World Championship: NES Edition

Neato! Nintendo-sanctioned online speedrunning competitions is not something I expected in this Direct, or at all, but I'm happy to see it!

This is reminding me of my goal to speedrun the first Luigi's Mansion game and see what my personal best is... I gotta do that sometime.

Fairy Tale 2

I don't go here but I'm happy for all you Fairy Tale enthusiasts out there!

FANTASIAN: Neo Dimension

WHOA WHOA WHOA did the announcer just say the creator of Final Fantasy created this game??????

I don't go here either but it looks fun!

Nintendo Switch Sports (free update)

MIO: Memories in Orbit

I'm digging the visuals for this!!! Not sure what I'm looking at, but I like it!

OH??????? RAIN WORLD-ESQUE ROBOT CHARACTER????? I'M LISTENING OuO

I absolutely adore this player character design oh my word

THE ENVIRONMENTSSSSSS OH MY GOLLY GEE WILLICKERS

NINTENDO YOU CAN'T JUST SHOW ME THIS TRAILER WITH NO COMMENTARY AND DROP A RELEASE WINDOW WITHOUT ANY FURTHER COMMENT. I NEED TO KNOW MORE.

Disney Illusion Island (free update)

Not many thoughts here other than I absolutely LOVE the pin connecting mini game idea.

Hello Kitty Island Adventure

OH MY GOSH HI HELLO KITTY HIIIIII

There's a Sanrio game with character customization????? EXCUSE ME??????? MY SANRIO-SONA IS PENDING YOU GUYS.

WHERE is Tuxedo Sam. WHERE is My Melody. WHERE are my children.

THERE THEY ARE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Nintendo this can't launch next year, I need it NOW

Looney Tunes: Wacky World of Sports

Oh they had to get people's attention for this with Lola Bunny, huh

The lineart effect being blurred and pixelated in places even in the trailer does not bode well in my eyes (they are the eyes of someone playing Pokemon Scarlet)

It's a fun cartoony idea for a party game though! I like it!

Among Us (free update)

No comment beyond I still have never played a game of Among Us. I don't know if I could survive a public lobby.

Farmagia

OH MY WORRRRRRRRD

Digimon / Pokemon / Harvest Moon / Stardew Valley / Ooblets combo punch of a game I LOVE YOU

WATERING CAN NOSE GUY I LOVE YOU

IT DROPS IN MY BIRTHDAY MONTH GUYS

Donkey Kong Country Returns HD

I'm sorry everyone but I hate monkeys and apes and I don't like Donkey Kong or anything to do with him ;w;

Dragon Quest III HD-2D Remake

INSTANTLY IN LOVE WITH VISUALS FOR THIS. I AUDIBLY GASPED SEEING THEM AND SENT MY BOYFRIEND INTO A FIT OF GIGGLES

In a perfect world, all HD remakes of 2D games would look like this photo-bashing beauty instead of uncute 3D adaptations (side-eyes the Diamond and Pearl remakes)

I think I might enter the series with this game, or maybe 1 or 2 when they launch. I LOVE THE VISUALS.

Funko Fusion

Exclaiming that I hate this game and then listening in shock and horror as my boyfriend tells me there's two or three other Funko Pop games on Switch

Bonding over our shared distaste for Funk Pops with my boyfriend right now. This is true romance.

Luigi's Mansion 2 HD

Seeing the tagline "Spooky, Silly, and Strategic" and PRAYING it's the Luigi's Mansion 2 HD's launch trailer

YEAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHH

The New Denpa Men

Got jumpscared by the Denpa Men character and immediately fell in love.

Unironically adore the character design of Denpa Men. I gotta get this thing.

Metal Slug Attack Reloaded

I'd rather play Battle Cats. Sorry guys.

Darkest Dungeon II

I have no words, only polite applause as I wait for the next drop to enthrall me.

Switch Online Expansion Pack

I miss the Four Swords companion manga!!!!! I loved that thing!!!!!!

"AND" says the announcer, followed by a black screen and dead silence, causing me to burst into laughter.

Phantom Brave: The Lost Hero

*gets yeeted offscreen* AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA---

I like the eye designs in this! Very fun!

Marvel VS. Capcom Fighting Collection: Arcade Classics

My dreams of learning a fighting game and getting really good at it... they are returning........ I gotta main Peach on Smash Bros...........

Learning about fighting games and the concept of infinites from my boyfriend and feeling myself wither at the realization it's just a matter of reaching your infinite before your opponent in order to win.

Super Mario Party Jamboree

Boyfriend exclaimed in utter glee when this little guy came on screen and I got to hear about how much he likes them!!!!! My man is adorable!!!!!!!

I gotta get this...... I've never played Mario Party before and I need to main Goomba or Shy Guy.............

Learning about the legacy of Mario Party 4 from Boyfriend and I'm utterly enraptured

The Legend of Zelda: Echoes of Wisdom

THE LEGEND OF LINK EVERYBODY!!!!!!!!!!!!!

I finally can play Zelda for the first time since Spirit Tracks!!!! And it'll be for realsies this time!!!!!

I LOVE THIS GUY I LOVE THIS I LOVE THIS GUY I WAS GENUINELY SPEECHLESS WHEN I SAW THIS GUY I LOVE YOU LITTLE GUY I LOVE YOU

I'm playing this game for Tri oh my word. The gameplay mechanics are amazing but Tri is the number one reason I'm gonna play and fall in love with this game

I love how this game is so much more strategic than straight-up combat focused!!!! We're playing Zelda mode lads!!!!

Putting September 26 on my calendar POST-HASTE

Just Dance 2025

Lego Horizon Adventures

Lego adaptation of Playstation and Window exclusive video game supremacy!!!!!

Stray

MY BABY BOYYYYYYYYYYYY!!!!! THE KITTY MAN!!!!!!!!

I've already played this but I'm so happy it's getting an adaptation for Switch!

Tales of the Shire

I still need to read Tolkien's works so bad ;w;

Not going to play this most likely, but I enjoy the idea of a cozy LotR game regardless!

Ace Attorney Investigations Collection

*SCREAMS LOUDLY*

YOU CAN SWITCH BETWEEN THE NEW ART AND THE ORIGINAL PIXEL ART???????? I'M SOLD

The Hundred Line - Last Defense Academy

Squinting during the whole trailer while trying to figure out if it's made by the team who made Danganronpa

I WAS RIGHT

Romancing SaGa 2: Revenging of the Seven

Boyfriend and I just share a Look because we're bored

Metroid Prime 4 Beyond

MARBLE TRACK SAMUS GO WHEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE

Boyfriend and I are weeping and wailing at how this game looks compared to Scarlet and Violet

Conclusion

TLOZ ECHOES OF WISDOM BEST GAME Y'ALL!!!!!!!!

[allycat75]

That ASP discussion, just like the site itself, was absolutely useless, Boston Dumb Fuck!

You know why? BECAUSE YOU ARE PART OF THE FUCKING PROBLEM!!!!

You just had to flash that awful piece of metal that binds you to the same evil that was being discussed. Know that all of the fears and violence that Secretary Cardona was expressing from Muslim and Jewish students around the country, it's on you, too. As he said, antisemtism is becoming normalized and your "marriage" is tacit approval of her beliefs and behavior. You have no right to sit and listen and look concerned when you know you have blood on your hands.

I happen to be one of those people who is afraid to show my faith, or mention I am Jewish. Just today, I drove past the location of a violent act that left a man dead, all because of his religion. I have seen too many Swastikas graffitied on walls near my market and coffee shop. This is my home town. My safe place, and I am not protected.

So live in that fairy tale world you have created for yourself- pick your apples, carve your damn pumpkins and crunch your fucking leaves, but don't forget to collect your partipation trophy for being a good rich white boy. While the rest of us shrink in our beds, afraid to roam the streets we call "home".

Have you no compassion to at least stay out of the discussion knowing what you have done? Was it necessary to pour salt and lemon juice over the multiple cuts you have given over the past year or so?

Everytime you shoved that hideous ring in the camera, you may as well have been saying, "You know who knows a lot about this subject? My little wifey. She sure hates the Jews, probably Muslims, too. She is an equal opportunity deplorable. Golly gee, such a peach!".

You looked like shit, by the way. Not sure if you wanted to look serious and concerned, or if that is just a sign your soul continues atrophy. Tell me, does it hurt as your soul is leaking away? Is it a sharp, stabbing pain? Or is it more of a dull ache? Or does it not hurt at all, more like a tickle? Oh well, no matter. After one or two more stunts like this and it will be gone and you won't feel anything at all.

We know there is something we are missing. We know you were forced to do this. We know you don't even like her. But I am beginning to not give a shit when you pull insensitive stunts like this. It makes me sad we will probably never know why you decided to self destruct this way. But what makes me the most sad, is that, one day, you will tell us everything, lay bare every gory detail, plead for forgiveness and for your soul to return, with heavy tears in your eyes, and I won't believe a word of it. You may be a bad liar, but you are a liar just the same.

Do you have the stamina to climb the cliffs of insanity it would take to earn that trust back? Not based on how you looked today, and not based on how much weed you seem to be smoking.

Please, for your sake and ours, stay away for awhile. If this is the "you" you have decided to be, no one wants to see or hear it. You are becoming as cruel, arrogant and lifeless as that little wifey so maybe you should just let the rest of that soul slip away and give in. I don't know who else would have you at this point. Like the Secretary said, you need to be unapologetically yourself. And right now you are an asshole!

When Miguel thanked you and your clout chasing partner at the end for all you are doing, did you feel a pang of guilt? I almost sensed you were about to cry because you know what a phony you are. I really hope you were because that means you are still with us. But it may have just been my misplaced wish you still cared for humanity.

[doobs]

What bands/genre of music do you think each of the Nostromo crewmembers listen to?

Okay I love this ask. A lot. I love this question!!!

If you guys have other thoughts feel free to reply! I'd love to know what you all have to think!

---

Ash: Classical

Okay, for Ash I wasn't too sure, but then I was thinking about Walter/David (I forget which one) in Prometheus or Alien: Covenant, point is it was one of them, and they liked classical music. I figured it must be an android thing right? And so I thought, Bishop and Call would totally like classical music. For sure. Right? Anyway, I think for Ash I'll have to go with classical music. It kinda matches his whole vibe of admiring purity and all that, I think classical is a very 'pure' genre if that makes sense.

---

Brett: Reggae

Brett is such a chill guy. I had a few ideas for him, right, maybe he listens to blues? I thought that was a good idea. But then I had this super awesome memory that he wears a Hawaiian shirt. MY MAN TOTALLY LISTENS TO REGGAE. C'mon. He totally vibes to reggae music, he's just that guy. In a good way.

---

Dallas: Rock n' Roll or Jazz. Not sure.

At first I didn't really know. Right now I'm thinking about it haha. So, I'm thinking, he doesn't really show his emotions, even in the vents (I think?) when trying to hunt the alien all he said was 'get me the hell outta here' he wasn't really showing that much. So maybe he's a rock n' roll or heavy metal sorta guy? Usually people who like those genres are the quietest. But then I'm like... Dallas is totally a jazz guy! I just can't explain it. I dunno. Help me decide haha.

---

Kane: 70s

Kane is such a mellow fellow. Those two words specifically. I feel like Kane would enjoy drinking a cup of coffee while listening to 70s music. He's a David Bowie guy. 100%. Well, at least I think so? Haha. Maybe he'd listen to Fleetwood Mac too.

---

Lambert: Country

This wasn't hard for me. Personally I wouldn't have picked this for her, but LOOK AT HER BOOTS. Look at them. They're cowboy boots. Let's all think about that. Yes? Yes. And I know that people are all 'just because you wear cowboy boots doesn't mean you like country music!! 🤬', but golly gee does it increase those chances.

---

Parker: Hip hop

My boy Parker 10000% listens to soul, blues, R&B, reggae my boy's a sucker for music of black descent. But his one shining star is definitely hip hop. I know some people are gonna be like 'that's offensive 🤬' but c'mon now. C'mon. Parker is like the most black black guy we know. Not even Apone in Aliens was on his level. I actually think it's fantastic. Unapologetically true to himself! But I do think he'd like hip hop more. Oh and he also tries to convince Brett to listen to something other than reggae but Brett's like nah.

---

Ripley: i'm biased so she listens to rock n' roll but also 70s with Kane

Okay so I'm probably very biased (completely biased) because Ripley is my favourite crew member. I love her so much. She's just amazing. ANYWAY- I think Ripley listens to rock n' roll while petting Jonesy. And yes that is my favourite genre but I honestly had no idea with Ripley. Actually I think she listens to 70s music with Kane sometimes. That's cute.

---

What did you think? This was stressful making this hahaha.

[elephant-in-the-pride-parade]

20 Questions for Fic Writers

I have been tagged by @timetravelbypen, yayyyy!! :D

1. How many works do you have on AO3?:

53

2. What's your total AO3 word count?:

1,521,662

3. What fandoms do you write for?

Sailor Moon, Star Trek: Voyager, Star Trek: Prodigy, And one Harry Potter story, the xover.

4. What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

Parent Trap (301)

Sailor Moon H: Order of the Phoenix (283)

Sailor Moon H: Half-Blood Prince (217)

Out of Reach (currently taken down) (150)

Eden's Deception (149)

5. Do you respond to comments? Why or why not?

I always try to respond to comments. I especially love when people have questions or want hints about what comes next.

6. What's the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

HAHAHAHAHA oh boy. Um... you... you want me to choose just one? hmmm... Alright so honestly I think while Afterimage and What Even is Three Minutes did numbers on the J/C crowd, nothing tops the cliffhangers at the end of Sailor Moon H: Half-Blood Prince in terms of how much angst they induced in readers. The double whammy: (1) the youngest senshi getting turned into a horcrux and taken hostage by Bellatrix Lestrange and (2) Morgana Avery, the OC whom I had carefully crafted to be a character you loved burning up her boyfriend's shop with dark magic and then casting the Dark Mark in order to infiltrate the death eaters as an undercover spy... My betas and I were taking bets on whether I'd get readers coming after me with pitch forks for that one.

7. What's the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

There's a few contenders but I don't think any happiness quite compares to Captain Kathryn Janeway in The Captain's Secret Santa, getting a puppy for Christmas.

8. Do you get hate on fics?

A smattering of memorable flames which I try to save to reflect back on when I need a good laugh.

9. Do you write smut? If so, what kind?

*opens trench coat* Smut you say? Well gosh golly gee. What in the blazes could that be? SMUT. Funny word. Hmmm. I'm not sure I know anything about that.

10. Do you write crossovers? What's the craziest one you've written?

I have written exactly two. Sailor Delta is on hold for the moment because the other one Sailor Moon H has one story to go. And i think if there were an award for craziest crossover I would submit that one and have a good chance to be in the running. It would win on craziest word count and probably on shenanigans too. And then it had the nerve to give itself a real plot. I started that as a crack fic and it got a mind of its own. And I am still writing it 8 years later XD.

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

I had all of my unlocked works on AO3 gobbled up by the initial crawl that Open AI used to build Chat GPT and that SUCKED. Not because it's been reproduced wholesale but because they'll use my hard work to make millions of dollars and all of the writers who were included in that dataset are both uncredited and uncompensated. I don't think I've ever had a fic stolen by another human. But if you do see what looks like my fic anywhere fishy, kindly let me know!

12. Have you ever had a fic translated?

No one has but I would be open to it!

13. Have you ever co-written a fic before?

I've co-written a few!

One for a challenge with @magdalenejaneway,

one with Dawn47 when I was there as a Shakespeare assist.

memorable live-writing adventures with @trekflower. (one of my favorite people to write sexy fic with.)

And the longest one, which I am still so impressed we finished (and still one of my favorite things to reread) was the big Threshold AU Season 7 with @jellybeansarecool

I've talked about cowriting with @theredheadedcaptain but we both agreed that given our penchant for massively long fics that combining both of those tendencies was a very dangerously large project to contemplate XD

14. What's your all-time favourite ship?

J/C is very near and dear to my heart but so is the Outer Senshi OT3 and I could never choose between them.

15. What's a WIP you want to finish, but doubt you ever will?

I am determined to finish all of my WIPs. Yes even SMH. Yes I know its been going on for 8 years. I am SLOW, okay. SLOW. Not lost. I know precisely how I want that thing to go.

16. What are your writing strengths?

I don't like tooting my own horn but okay... I feel confident in my ability to plot a long fic and see it through. In my ability to write something that brings you to your knees with emotion. And I do a damn good villain speech.

17. What are your writing weaknesses?

Time management. Word Count management. Oneshots.

18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language for a fic?

Depends if it's there to be understood in context or there to stand out as not understood. I'd write dialogue in another language if it was there to be understood. I'd gloss over it if the intention was that the character and reader shouldnt understand it. I also wouldnt do it for whole lines of dialogue unless it was for a very good reason. Would prefer to throw in only the untranslateable words or to use greetings/honorifics and other smaller phrasal cues to indicate which language is being spoken.

19. First fandom you wrote for?

W.I.T.C.H. in 2009-2010

20. Favourite fic you've ever written?

Two:

I fell in love with writing The Universe to Mend this year and I've already re-read it once since finishing it in October. It brought me so much joy. It was such a fun challenge. and I think it was some of the best character work I've ever done.

While I wince when I re-read some of the typos, Pax Lunae was still the first ever story that I felt proud of and that remains true today. It was a challenge to dive into the lore of Sailor Moon and create something that could be canon. It was also the first fic I could hold up and say "Hey! I wrote something the length of a novel. I could write a novel" And I like to reread it to remember that feeling. Someday I'll have a chance to clean up some of the spelling too..

Alrighty let's see. I want to tag @theredheadedcaptain @divinemissem13 @jellybeansarecool and @curator-on-ao3 if they'd like to take a crack at it. and anyone else who follows me and wants to - go for it!.

[rocknrollsalad]

Steddieholidaydrabbles: Day Six - Cooking Together AND Steddimas - baking and cookie decorating

🍪 Scott Clarke is not a baker. A fact he's learned the hard way. Though it's HOURS too late, he enlists the help of Steve and Eddie because what's Christmas without a gingerbread house, right?

🥼 content/trigger warnings: food

🧑‍🍳 word count: 1457

Eddie wasn’t the go-to guy for help. No one he knew looked at their address book and said “Yeah, Eddie Munson is the number I’m gonna dial”. It should have been! He was always helpful and knew how to do plenty. Something he proved time and time again when he was the last resort. Not the “I’m going to call Eddie for help” but the “well, Eddie is here so I might as well ask him too” sort of thing. 

A fact he’d grown used to. At least until he found himself partnered up with Steve Solves-Everyone’s-Problems Harrington. People called him for everything. Major problems, minor problems, someone else’s problems, those in Steve’s life didn’t need an address book; they had his number memorized. 

Dating Steve did change the number of phone calls Eddie received, the calls were still for Steve but now the Munson household was the first stop in getting ahold of Hawkins's own wonderboy. Eddie would hate it so much more if Steve didn’t like up like Times Square every time he was needed. 

Then Steve went and made it worse by saying it was the only thing he had to offer. He wasn’t ever going to be able to help with homework or remember the weird names of all those elves but he could drive them places and sit with them when they were scared. He could fix a car, change a hard to reach light, or pick a few things up from the store. 

As painful as it was that Steve thought those were his only skills, it actually had Eddie pushing their mutual friends at Steve more. Make the boy feel important please, no one has needed him in days. Eddie also stayed out of the way. He didn’t tag along or offer his two cents. 

Eddie wasn’t sure of his place in this group yet but “the helping hand” was already taken. They had their Swiss Army friend, ready to fix anything that was broken. A talent that crossed friendship lines when Scott Clarke called in a panic, opening with a desperate cry for help. Eddie did what he always did and passed the phone off to Steve. 

Like so many other “emergencies”, this one wasn’t life or death. Scott wasn’t part of the crew who’d literally stared down death or saw the pits of hell, he was allowed to be dramatic about it, but a…cookie emergency seemed like a problem the Care Bears should solve. “Oh no, we’ve put too much sugar in the cookies and ruined the bear's birthdays, golly gee, what are we going to do?” 

Bake some new cookies. Buy some from the store. There were so many answers that weren’t "enlist Steve and Eddie like it was some sort of national crisis". 

Of course, Steve wasn’t in agreement and spent the whole time Eddie looked for clothes to change into pacing the doorway, desperate to get out there and help someone who needed it. Which didn’t speed Eddie up any.

Steve felt weird going over to Scott’s alone. The amount of times he repeated “he was our teacher” almost went past annoying and into endearing. Scott wasn’t their teacher now, he was some lame-ass guy trying to impress Wayne with baked goods. A dumb waste of time because why would Wayne be impressed by anyone’s baking ability? He once ate an entire birthday cake Eddie burnt that one year. Without a single complaint. 

However, an emergency might have been an understatement. 

Scott ushered them into a gingerbread warzone. Complete with broken men and women lining the battlefield. Some house pieces were both solid and liquid, others were charred to a crisp, nothing made sense and every surface was covered with something. 

Both Eddie and Steve stood on the only clean kitchen tiles with their jaws on the floor. Scott had clearly given up on aprons, there were a few among the mess, and his 1979 science fair tee was unreadable in spots. Flour handprints were all over his pants, along with crusted gingerbread batter, and Eddie didn’t know whether to laugh or get the man a drink. 

“It’s just science, right? It’s a chemical reaction. You measure carefully, pay attention to what you’re putting in, and add heat. I think actual rocket science would be easier.” Shoving his hands through his hair, a path they’d clearly taken a few times, Scott tried to find something close to composure. 

He wasn’t upset he couldn’t impress Wayne, he was bothered he got the formula wrong. This was the scientific process letting him down and it’d driven him to madness. Eddie wondered how many failed attempts there were hidden in here and what on Earth made him call for their help. 

“No. Well yes, but it’s more than that,” Steve said with a soft confidence Eddie had never heard from him. 

The tone slowed Scott too, he was willing to entertain whatever Steve had to say. 

“You guys aren’t going to like the rest of it. Just let me try it out, it’ll be fine.” 

Eddie muttered a quiet “What” and looked at Steve. Getting a “don’t ask” stare that ensured Eddie would absolutely ask. He’d be patient enough to get Scott out of the room but that was about it. 

He thought getting Scott out of the room would be harder but he heard Steve offer to try, threw his hands up, and said, “I’m going to take a shower, kitchen is yours.”

For a full minute, Steve and Eddie stood in silence. Listening to Scott move through his house, still throwing a mild temper tantrum as he did. Eddie could only imagine the amount of exasperated scientist mumbling that was going on. 

Once they felt they were in the clear, they let out a joint sigh and Eddie said. “Ho-ho-holy shit I thought he was going to stand over our shoulder and, like, grade you as you cooked or something.” 

“Given the bar he set, it wouldn’t be hard to get a passing grade.” 

That wasn’t kind and Eddie laughed for that reason. Mixed a bit with how truthful it was. They were staring down a ton of wonderful-smelling carnage. Much like the gingerbread people in the sink, Scott didn’t have a leg to stand on. 

“Plus, who said I’m doing all the work?” Steve asked. 

“Oh, me. I said you were because you’re the one with cryptic answers about what it takes to make a good cookie.” 

“It’s not cryptic, I just didn’t want to listen to you and Scott mock me for the rest of time,” 

The comment was followed by Steve’s trademark huffy little pout that Eddie loved. Arms crossed, he defended himself and braced for impact. Though his walls were made of cotton candy and the castle was guarded by two cardboard cutouts. Steve was horrible at this stuff. 

And Eddie was persistent. He pressed into Steve’s space, enough to cause him to lose balance a little. Finding a stronger stance, Steve looked anywhere but at Eddie. Still, Eddie could see the smile. He’d made a few missteps on when to press for Steve to say things he was holding in but the lights were all green here. 

Doing his best to look cute and innocent, something Eddie had likely never been, he lowered himself enough to have to look up at Steve. “We’d never mock you, for anything,” Eddie said. 

“Yeah, well I’m still not telling you,” Steve raised his nose in the air, looking away. 

As much as Eddie knew saying “I love you” for the first time was supposed to be some big memorable moment, it was little ones like these that always threatened to steal that from him. Standing in a mess that was likely making Steve’s skin crawl, creating something to bicker about, and playing their parts so perfectly comical. That’s so much better than some fancy dinner they’d never have or a beach vacation they’d not go on. 

“Fine, I’m going to go add some more burnt cookies to the pile. Since I don’t know the secret to it,” Eddie mocked as he pulled away and went deeper into the kitchen. 

Steve was so hot on his heels they almost collided. “Look, I know you can’t exactly do worse but lemme do this okay? I got it.” 

“I do really like the challenge of doing worse.” 

“Yeah, I regretted that as soon as I said it. You absolutely could do worse.” 

“Thank you. That’s so sweet of you to say,” Eddie cooed.

“Who knew Scott was this bad though,” Steve said with a judgemental stare around the room. 

“Wanna know something? A real secret?” 

Eddie leaned in close and whispered through a giggle, “Wayne hates gingerbread.” 

[p-artsypants]

Paint it Black (8) Finding

Robin disappeared three months ago. Now, Jump City's crime rate is mysteriously being taken care of by a normal, albeit strange, teenage boy who goes by the name Black. As the Titans befriend this lunatic, they begin to see a correlation between him and their missing leader. Will they be able to find Robin, or will Black turn them all insane as himself? [Actually, does not contain an OC]

Ao3 | FF.net

Starfire and Black diligently worked in his room. Starfire set up a card table and some chairs. She spread her supplies out and allowed him to use what he wanted. 

Black sang a sad and eerie song, as if it was a jaunty tune, complete with a small smile and little head bobs. “That there, that's not me. I go where I please. I walk through walls, I float down the Liffey. I'm not here.”

Starfire glanced at him, goosebumps prickling up on her skin.

“This isn't happening. I'm not here. I'm not here.”

“Your voice is most soothing. Do you enjoy singing?” 

He looked at her confused. “Singing? Nah, I don’t sing.” 

“But you were just––” 

“Hey, look what I made!” He grinned, and held his project up to his face. It was a mask reminiscent of Robin’s, but instead of plain black, it was colored with crayons and had glitter on it. “Guess who I am? Wah wah wah Justice!” 

The mask went up in embers as Starfire incinerated it with the eye beams. “That was neither flattering, nor amusing.”

“Hey!” He protested, gathering the little pieces left. “I worked hard on that!” 

“Perhaps you should learn the art of, how Jinx would say, ‘reading the room’.” 

Black looked around. “There’s no words in here, though.” 

“I do not like mockery of my friends, especially my Robin.” 

He tilted his head. “Your Robin? Oh! Were you guys a ‘thing’? What are they called, courting buddies?” 

She looked downcast. “No, we were not. We were only good friends.” 

“Then…he’s not really yours then, is he?” 

She scowled at Black. “He had my heart, and still possesses it, wherever he is. Your flagrant disregard of this fact is cruel.” 

He pooched his lips. “Golly Gee, I didn’t mean to hurt your feelings. I was only trying to understand.” 

“To put it in a way, he was my most trusted friend and advisor. He explained many things to me when I did not understand.”  

“Like you’re doing for me?”

“I suppose you are correct. Your amnesia has put me in a place I was dependent on before.” She huffed, still upset. “I would prefer if we did not speak of Robin. It hurts my heart.” 

“Okay okay,” he rolled his eyes. 

“Star,” Cyborg called from the communicator. “Gizmo just arrived with the last video. Wanna see?” 

“I do not know if I want to see it, but I need to. I shall be there momentarily.” 

Black watched as she rose from the table. “Where ya going?”

“There has been…a break in the case with Robin. I am going to the ops room. Would you like to come?”

“Nah. I’m gonna keep working.” 

All the better, Starfire thought bitterly. She was trying to be forgiving and friendly with Black, but knowledge of his deeds and seeing his actions in person made it hard. 

Yes, he needed help, but perhaps the Titans were not the ones that should give it to him. 

Starfire entered the ops room, spying Gizmo sitting on the couch with a soda. A Dr. Pepper. Those were Robin’s.

But she just silently took her place. 

“Okay,” Raven acknowledged. “Where’s Black?”

“In his room,” Starfire said shortly. “He has hurt my feelings, and so I will leave him to his business.” 

“Black? You mean the weird goth wannabe superhero we talked about last time? He lives here now?! Of course, what am I saying! You fart knockers take in whatever stray ‘hero’ you can find.” 

“Is that not what the Hive does with villains?” Raven quirked a brow.

“UH. The HIVE is a school for supervillains. Totally different thing!” 

“Sure, Gizmo.” 

Beast Boy shifted into a cat once more and sat beside Star, knowing she appreciated the comfort he gave. 

“Y’all ready?” 

“The first two seconds got trimmed,” Gizmo explained. “That’s where the corruption was. The rest looked like it worked fine, but I only scrubbed it.” 

“Thank you Gizmo,” Starfire said softly.

“Oh…yeah. Don’t mention it.” 

When the video started, the camera was at an odd angle, mostly aimed at the ceiling, but they could see the top of the wall, and the underside of a face. The left side. Black hair, still the same gaunt cheeks and dark veins that stood out on his skin. 

“Shall we start?...Just like we practiced…what did we practice for?...Because we’re sending it to our friends, stupid!” 

“He’s…talking to himself,” Raven grimaced. 

“I do not understand,” Starfire breathed. “That is Robin’s voice, and that is his face…but it is not.” 

“So is it Robin or not?” Gizmo asked. “It’s one or the other!” 

“I won't run away no more, I promise,” Robin’s chilling voice sang.

“There is something very wrong with him,” Starfire explained. “Some of the words he speaks, it is like a different person.” 

“Like a person talking with a puppet,” Raven agreed.  

“Even when I get bored, I promise. Even when you lock me out, I promise. I say my prayers every night, I promise.” There was heavy sorrow lacing his words, but he giggled at the end. “Yes, yes, that was good. They’ll like that!...You remember the next one?...Of course!” He tottled away from the camera, the top of his head coming into view every few frames or so. He was dancing. “I resent you calling. I resent your voice. I resent that I don't have a choice.” He was really getting into the song, and singing loudly and proudly. Not all the notes were right, but he had joy in his voice. “And yes I am! Yes I am!” He backed up, the back of his head and shoulders in view. He was wearing a hospital gown, so the skin of his back was exposed, and covered in marks.

Beast Boy shifted back into a boy, and stared at the video. He already had the first part of the message figured out. 

“I think I've told you once, I think I needed advice. You were such a help, that's very nice. I think I've been here before…Yes I've been here before. But this time I kick down your door!” That last note was outrageously sour as he dissolved into playing the air guitar, complete with singing the notes he was pretending to play, “WWEEEE WWAANN WWAAAAHHH!” Then he started laughing as he dropped his arms. The laughter faded until he was just standing there. 

“That was excessive…oh lighten up, would you? We sang it! We rocked it!...it doesn’t have to be a good performance…Why are you like this?...because you’re a massive doo-doo head and no one likes you!” He chuckled, before his shoulders dropped. “Okay,” he turned partially toward the camera. “Last one. Make it count.”

He started bobbing his head as he closed his eyes. His voice was soft, slightly seductive. “Troubled words of a troubled mind, I try to understand what is eating you. I try to stay awake, but it's 58 hours since that I last slept with you.” He started bouncing on his feet. “What are we coming to? I just don't know anymore. Blame it on the black star! Blame it on the falling sky! Blame it on the satellite that beams me home…” 

Beast Boy let out a gasp of horror, “dude…” 

“What?!” 

He didn’t answer, just continued to watch it all unfold. 

Robin was moving in a slow sway, his arms up. “I get on the train and I just stand about, now that I don't think of you. I keep falling over, I keep passing out when I see a face like you. What am I coming to? I'm gonna melt down…” 

He started air guitaring again, putting his whole body into the song. “Blame it on the black star! Blame it on the falling sky! Blame it on the satellite that beams me home!” He threw his arms out to the side and screamed the last two lines. “This is killing me! This is killing me!” 

The door on the other end of the room opened, but the group could only hear it. 

“Having fun?” Said a new voice. 

“Oh a lot! So so much!” 

“I think you’re ready to graduate, Patient 8.” 

“Yes! I knew it!” He whipped around towards the camera, fiddling with it to turn it off, but before the video ended, they all got a perfect shot of his face. Wild eyes, a meaty smile, and a horrible, bloody wound that tore through his right cheek, shoddily stitched and weeping. 

When the footage went black, no one could move. No one breathed. 

“BB…?” Cyborg asked in a tiny voice. “Did you get…?” 

“Yeah,” Beast Boy breathed. “I Promise…Yes I am…Black Star.” 

The door to the ops room swooshed open, and they all turned to look.

Black stood in the doorway, wearing another crudely made mask. “Hey guys, guess who I am?!”

---

A playlist of all the songs sung in this fic is available here. *Mickey Mouse Voice* It's a secret clue that will help us later!

[rpgworldcomic]

#733 - Howard Used "Mug"

Hoo boy babes, babettes, dudes, dudettes, and the various and sundry of those between and outside those permutations-- I am burnt! Not even out, just burnt. Crisped. My juices are locked in.

What are we talking about.

I haven't updated in 3 weeks! I am JUST as upset about it as you are! Probably moreso. It is taking every ounce of existence I have to muster the energy to type the sexy words I'm typing to you right now. (They are voluptuous; you may look but not touch. … Okay, maybe just one touch.)

The FIRST week I did not update because I was out of town, which in this day and age is not even an excuse, because I have the magical ability to carry a whole-ass computer with me in a bag. I can open it! The computer, not the bag. The bag, however, is also openable. (And must be.) I can open that computer, set it on some computer-having surface, and do all the things that are necessary to upload a page. Heck! On a lucky day I can do that from my PHONE! But I didn't do ANY of those things! Because I didn't want to!! Because I was spending time with family!! Because of a funeral!! I DO NOT WANT CONDOLENCES DO NOT POST CONDOLENCES I HATE CONDOLENCES THEY DO ME NO GOOD.

The SECOND week! …. I was depressed!! Not from the funeral, from general life stuff. You know, existence, capitalism, past horrors of trauma that loom daily. All those good things you surely suffer from too.

The THIRD week, my true love gave to me… Wait, no. The THIRD week, I was on vacation!! Yeah! I vacated! But that wasn't even why I didn't update! I was just DEPRESSED again!! Two weeks in a row! Golly gee damn! But you'll never guess what, we're going for three, baby!!

But I'm actually updating this time. I -assume-, anyway. I'm typing this immediately before finishing the page and uploading it to the various places that no one will read it.

I'm just running out of steam, fellas (and fellettes, see first sentence above). Not on the comic! No, the valve for steam is fully on the… on?.. position? For that? I don't know how steam valves work. I just have no steam in general. If you turn the little steam knob (again, no idea how steam works), you just get a little poot. A little steam poot. It goes "pbbt!" and makes a fart noise. Over and over. No matter how many times you do it. You'd THINK that if I'm running out of steam, eventually there'd be no steam for that fart noise. But no, dear reader, no matter how empty my take gets I will always have steam for a fart noise. If I ever DON'T make a fart noise, I'm dead. I might still make fart noises, depending on how my carcass decides to handle the festering gases built up by bacteria feasting on my delicious (again, sexy) body. [The gasses might slip out my rectum, is what I'm getting at here.]

Whew! All this talk of my delicious rectum has got me all heated. Not heated enough to produce more steam, mind you. That requires -liquids-, of which I am devoid, presumably. What say we all read the comic page above and/or below, shall we?

What? You already read it?? Because it's above the author note (in some countries) and you read the page before the author note, using the author note as a tasty delicious dessert?? Like I'm some sort of sorbet??? Like I'm some sort of delicious rectum sorbet????

I've been called worse things. See you all next week! Probably. I hope.

Man, this author note is long. You know what else is long? Ha haaaaa, that's RIGHT! The Declaration of Independence of the United States of America! Which is relevant right now, because shooty-fireworks day is coming up. So go shoot some fireworks (with guns, also available in America), but be safe (unless you're using guns, because you're already safe), and eat some hot dogs (the FOOD, not the sweating Schnauzer). Turns out I didn't know how to spell Schnauzer. I spelled it snauser. I also didn't know it was a breed, I thought it was a general term for dogs.

ALSO, dogs don't sweat you fucking idiot!! Ha haa get beaned.

[fruggo]

Okey okey so. well, I haven't found it anywhere, so. Killer ( dbd) reactions to when they try to catch their favorite surv (s / o) as he/she jumps through the window, palette, but their pants / skirt remain in their hand. He / she runs away, but they see their pink panties with bunny pattern: 3.

lol okay this is funny—but just to clarify none of this will be sexual >:0 i don’t think you meant it that way but just wanna make sure! you also didn't specify which killers so i just did which ones i usually write for, i hope that's okay with you!

characters: frank, joey, and danny w/ gender neutral reader

warnings: uhhh undergarments i guess lmao ?????? and i just wrote "pants" bc im too lazy to b like "pants/skirt" every time and its a general term ljfksjdfkj or whateveavasv its 3 am

~~

bro i had a field day writing this im so sorry i was so tired and the writing is so unprofessional LMAO

i hope it’s at least funny tho :-)

𝐅𝐑𝐀𝐍𝐊 𝐌𝐎𝐑𝐑𝐈𝐒𝐎𝐍

ok so frank?? we have already established that he is a douchebag (affectionate)

normally as a killer, he would want to catch the survivor he is chasing, yes?

unfortunately he catches ur pants instead </3

trying to vault through the window at shack, you lost your footing as frank grabbed a handful of your clothes and yanked you backwards--but somehow you managed to break free!! oh golly gee!!!!!

hmm

your legs are rather cold all of a sudden hmmm

you look back to see frank frozen at the window, the smile on his mask seeming to taunt you as he held your clothing in his hand.

and then his mf stupid laugh hit your ears and u swore u lost it later when telling claudette about it (bc i love claudette and i think she deserves the world, yes)

"LOOK I DIDN'T CHOOSE THIS THE ENTITY PUT THEM ON ME" you cried out desperately, grasping at what little dignity you had left by hiding behind the generator in the middle of the room--you were referring to the embarrassing undergarments frank was so unfortunate to see. it was mostly just embarrassing because he had seen them; perhaps you liked the pattern, but that was only for you to know!!!! not anybody else!!

his laughs melted into a withering sigh. "oh, doll, cute bunnies. really. so adorable."

steam was probably pouring out yo ears as you fled the crime scene and hid the rest of the trial because no, he wasn't giving you your pants back <3 he is a douchebag remember (derogatory) (the rock eyebrow picture) (vine boom)

~~

𝐉𝐎𝐄𝐘

JOEY!!! :))))))

joey is a nice boy you cant change my mind

when he accidentally snatches ya pants hes like whaaaaaat nooooooo aaaaahhhhh

sorru its 3 am and this is how im writing there are no excuses i am just doing it because i want to bye so anyways

like a gentleman he looks away, but not fast enough. he still saw those mf bunnies and he can’t ever forget it

“um. sorry. here’s your… yeah.” he holds your pants through the window for you, head still turned the opposite way.

he won’t comment on the bunnies on your underwear because he’s nice but ya he’s definitely thinking about it lol

im going to bed brb i canmt write for shat

okay im back

you shyly take your pants back, astounded at the killer’s polite attitude. “oh.. thank you.. “

“um.. no problem.. yeah… i’m just gonna, uh.. im gonna.. go now…” he mumbles, shuffling away.

so he leaves lmao he can’t take it!! ur kinda really cute in case you didn’t know. you have bunnies on your undies babe he’s dying over here

when he sees you later he just kind of freezes, and you stand there uncomfortably like👋😄

from that point on he never sacrifices you in trials. he just can’t. he thinks about the bunnies every time he sees you. lmao

~~

𝐃𝐀𝐍𝐍𝐘 𝐉𝐎𝐇𝐍𝐒𝐎𝐍

danny is the worst and i still stand by this HE IS A BAD GUY OKAY

(but jsust bc u are bad guy…. doesnt mean u are bad guy… ) (please tell me u know where this is from)

he’ll laugh at you, first of all. resting his chin in his hand as he leans on the window, he says, “oh, my. never took you for the innocent type” in the most sleazy, silky voice. and it so pisses you off

if you try to get your pants back he lifts them away, watching you desperately grab for them while more laughter bubbles up in his chest.

embarrassment burns in your face as you scramble to gather your wits—what the fuck are you supposed to do right now? the chase has been cast aside, but now he’s just taunting and mocking you for your underwear, a whole new battle.

“aaww, look! you’re angry! look at that pout.. how precious.. like a bunny,” danny muses, his head tilting almost affectionately.

and then

babe he takes out his mf camera

and before you can react he gets a picture☠️☠️☠️

DIDNT I TELL YOU HE’S THE WORST :)

“EY EY EY DELETE THAT” you yell, anger simmering inside of you. you were so ready to slap a bitch but how could you do that to a killer?

he laughs EVILLY cause hes an EVIL BOY and then sulks away EVILLY

and now you still have no pants

[waitimcomingtoo]

hi bestie! xmas request for u <333 could you do one where the avengers clearly know that peter and the reader like eachother, so they (very undiscreetly) place mistletoes literally everywhere in the hq to get the lil babies of the groups to kiss? thank uuuuuuu love u!

Under The Mistletoe

pairing: Peter Parker x reader

Masterlist

“Good morning everyone.” You greeted the Avengers as you walked in the kitchen one morning.

“Good morning.” Peters eyes followed you as you sat down next to him at the table. “I made you hot chocolate.”

“You did? You’re so sweet.” You took the mug from him and kissed his forehead. “Thank you.”

“Well you mentioned last night that you were always freezing in the morning so I thought this would warm you up.” Peter smiled sweetly at you, face flushed from the kiss.

“You’re too good to me. I was gonna put some whip cream on it. Do you want some?” You offered as you went to the refrigerator.

“Sure. Thank you.” Peter nodded as you put some whip cream on his hot chocolate. The rest of the Avengers watched the interaction, exchanging knowing glances every once in a while.

“So, what did you guys do last night?” Natasha asked curiously as she leaned on her hand.

“We went on patrol together and then walked around the city. It was snowing so it was really pretty.” You smiled as you remembered the night before. Natasha and Bruce made eye contact, giving each other a knowing look.

“Didn’t you get cold?” Bruce asked for his own amusement.

“My suit has a built in heater.” Peter told him.

“But Y/n’s suit doesn’t.” Tony added, understanding what was going on.

“Peter had his arm around me so the heat kept us both warm.” You told them as you sipped your mug, making everyone gush.

“Uh huh.” Tony nodded as he watched Peter put his arm around your chair. “So you went for a moonlit stroll through the city. Pretty romantic, don’t you think? Was it a date?”

“What?” Peter sputtered. “No.”

“We’re just friends.” You nodded a few too many times.

“You got some whip cream on your face.” Peter noticed the white dollop on your nose.

“Oh. Oops.” You laughed in embarrassment and went to wipe it off.

“I got it.” Peter wiped your face with his thumb, leaving both of you in a blushing mess.

“Thanks.” You giggled, gazing lovingly into his eyes.

“Right. Just friends.” Rhodey grimaced as he watched the disgusting love fest in front of him.

“So what are you doing today?” Natasha asked, finding the whole situation hysterical.

“We were gonna watch some holiday movies in my room before patrol.” Peter told her.

“Speaking of that, do you want to get started?” You asked him. “We have a lot to get through.”

“Sure. Bye guys.” Peter waved before resting his hand on the small of your back and leading you out of the room. Once you left, the Avengers let out the collective laugh they had been holding in.

“So…they’re in love, right? We can agree on that?” Tony asked as he looked around the room, seeing everyone nod at him.

“I have never seen anyone so whipped.” Rhodey laughed as he sipped his coffee.

“How have they not admitted their feelings?” Nat asked the room. “It’s so obvious.”

“This is worse than me and Nat.” Steve commented.

“Or me and Nat.” Bruce added.

“Or me and Nat.” Tony agreed.

“When are those crazy kids gonna get together?” Steve chuckled as he opened the newspaper.

“This gives me an idea.” Tony narrowed his eyes as he got a familiar devilish glint in his eyes.

“Oh no.” Steve recognized the glint. “This can’t be good.”

“By the end of the holiday season, I want Y/n and Peter to be together.” Tony said decidedly. “This will require a group effort in making it happen. In the weeks leading up to the holidays, I expect each and every one of you to get our dear Peter and Y/n to realize they like each other.”

“How do you expect us to do that?” Nat humored him.

“You will all plant mistletoe somewhere in the building.” Tony grinned wickedly. “The mistletoe that gets the most kisses out of them wins.”

“Wins what?” Bruce asked, just as intrigued as the rest of the team.

“Whatever you want. I don’t know if the giant building with my name on it gave it away, but I have money.” Tony stated. “Lots of it. Or how about this, the winner can pick and design a new room to be added to the tower.”

“I could use a physical therapy room.” Rhodey spoke up. “I don’t know if you guys remember, but my legs don’t work on their own anymore ever since I fell out of the sky.”

“Oh, yeah. I forgot about that.” Steve realized.

“Yeah. Nobody really talks about that.” Bruce agreed.

“I think we could all benefit from a new training room.” Nat threw in. “The old one has a permanent sweaty man smell.”

“We already have a training room. What we really need is some personal up keeping. Keeping myself this blonde is not cheap. A hair parlor in the building would be nice.” Steve suggested.

“Parlor.” Tony chuckled under his breath.

“I second that.” Bucky piped up.

“Of course you do, Jared Leto.” Tony teased.

“We don’t need a hair salon. What we need is another lab.” Bruce declared.

“Or a ballet studio.” Nat gasped.

“I think we should install an Olive Garden.” Bucky shrugged.

“How about a room full of murals of myself?” Thor smiled. “You can all gaze upon them and push yourself to stop being tiny and small.”

“Or another gym.” Rhodey shrugged.

“Or a wine cellar. But for beer! A beer cellar.” Thor cheered.

“We can discuss the room later.” Tony quieted everyone down. “If you really want these things, get the kids together. You know what you have to do.”

Tony

You and Peter often ate breakfast together in the same spot everyday, and Tony used that information to his advantage. He skillfully hung some mistletoe above your usual seats and patiently waited for your arrival. Soon enough, Tony heard your footsteps coming into the kitchen.

“Hey Petey.” You rubbed Peter’s back before taking a seat next to him. “Hi Mr. Stark.”

“Hey guys.” Tony smiled before looking up and gasping. “Oh golly gee, would ya look at that? Mistletoe! Who put that there?”

“Oh, wow.” Peter said as he looked up to see mistletoe hanging above the two of you. “I didn’t even notice.”

“Yeah. I probably wouldn’t have looked up if you hadn’t pointed it out.” You said skeptically as you eyed Tony.

“Ha.” Tony forced a laugh. “Well, now you see it. Bye!”

He quickly left the room and hid behind a wall where he could watch his plan unfold.

“That wasn’t at all weird.” You chuckled as you turned in your seat.

“He probably put Red Bull in his protein shake again.” Peter laughed as well, fingers brushing yours a little on the table.

“Yeah.” You nodded, suddenly feeling awkward now that you were both aware of the mistletoe hanging above your heads. You both looked away from each other, red in the face and sneaking occasional glances at the plant.

“I, um, I’ve never actually seen mistletoe in person before.” Peter said to break the silence. “I’ve only heard about it in songs.”

“Me too.” You nodded rapidly. “Or in movies and stuff.”

“Yeah.” Peter gulped. “And stuff.”

You looked at each other for a moment, shy smiles on your faces.

“I mean, since it’s both of our first times getting caught under it, it’d be a shame not to honor the tradition.” You suggested sheepishly as you averted your eyes.

“Right.” Peter said quickly. “It’s tradition. We basically have to.”

“Yeah. It’s practically a right of passage for the holiday season.” You said simply as you leaned closer to Peter.

“Exactly.” Peter agreed, leaning in as well. Your faces were almost touching now, just a few more inches until contact.

“Um.” You let out a nervous laugh before shutting your eyes and leaning in. Peter met you the rest of the way, your lips connecting directly under the mistletoe. You smiled a little into the kiss before pressing your hand to his cheek to keep him in place. Peter pulled away after a minute, gazing fondly in your eyes as he opened them. He’d been waiting to kiss you for the longest time, and it was just as perfect as he imagined.

“Thanks.” Peter said, squeezing his eyes shut in embarrassment after he said it.

“You’re welcome.” You laughed at him, squeezing his shoulder in admiration.

“I’m glad we could, erm, fulfill the tradition.” Peter laughed at his own awkwardness as he shook his head.

“Me too.” You nodded with a flushed face. “I feel more in the holiday spirit already.”

“Same, same.” Peter trailed off, looking around the room to distract from the awkwardness.

“Can we just pretend that didn’t happen and eat our breakfast?” You requested, looking at him shyly.

“Please.” Peter agreed. “It never happened.”

Rhodey

Bruce was making his way to the lab when he saw Rhodey hiding behind a wall, staring at hanging mistletoe.

“Why are you standing here?” Bruce whispered as he stood behind Rhodey.

“I told Y/n to meet me in the kitchen and I’m sending her a bunch of texts so she keeps her eyes on her phone. I also told Peter to meet me in the theater. They’ll have to go through that doorway where I strategically placed mistletoe. Once they bump into each other, they’ll have to kiss and I’ll get a point.” Rhodey explained his masterplan in a hushed tone.

“Why do you want them to bump into each other? Can’t they just see each other in the doorway?” Bruce whispered back.

“Man, have you ever seen a romantic comedy?” Rhodey sighed. “The girl has to bump into the boy so he knows she’s clumsy and not like other girls.”

“I think you’re getting a little too invested in this. It’s just a room.” Bruce reminded him, beginning to think he was behind on the contest.

“Its not about the room.” Rhodey insisted. “I just want to beat Rogers and his stupid parlor.”

“Shh.” Bruce hushed him. “Here they come.”

Bruce and Rhodey watched as you and Peter smacked into each other in the doorway.

“Oh, sorry. I wasn’t looking.” Peter said as he caught you from falling.

“That’s okay. I wasn’t looking either.” You smiled at him, staying in his arms.

“How are you gonna get them to notice the mistletoe?” Bruce whispered.

Rhodey silently took out a large fan and switched it on, sending a breeze towards you and Peter. The breeze made the bells on the mistletoe chime, causing you and Peter to look up.

“Is that mistletoe?” He asked as he pointed to it.

“It looks like it.” You commented. “I guess Mr. Stark decorated the tower.”

“Kinda crazy we got caught under it twice.” Peter chuckled nervously, hoping he’d get the chance to kiss you again.

“I know. But hey, it’s tradition.” You shrugged, also hoping you’d get to kiss him.

“Yeah. Tradition.” Peter was barely listening to himself speak as he stared at your lips. You laughed a little as your arms went around his neck, pulling him into a soft kiss. It was just as good as the first time, if not better. You pulled away after a moment and sighed against his mouth.

“I, um, I gotta meet Rhodey in the nitchken.” You stumbled over your words.

“Yeah, I’m supposed to see him in the popcorn palace.” Peter spoke, not even knowing what he was saying.

“I’ll see you later, Petey.” You squeezed his arm gently and made your way to the kitchen.

“Bye.” Peter mumbled before going to the theater. Rhodey turned to Bruce with a boastful grin and held a finger to symbolize the point he has just gotten. Bruce swallowed nervously, realizing he had to get on it if he wanted to win.

Bruce

“Banner.” Tony came to Bruce’s side with a suspicious look. “You look awfully devious today.”

“You’re much more likely to walk next to someone than to be caught under a doorway with them. That’s why I put a bouquet of roses and mistletoe on the table between their rooms. Every time they pass it, they’ll have to kiss.” Bruce explained as he turned to Tony with bloodshot eyes. He had been working on the plan all night and it showed.

“You unsuspecting genius.” Tony gasped.

“How is that unsuspected?” Bruce deadpanned. “I’m a certified genius. That’s why I was recruited.

“Yeah? And I’m a certified freak. 7 days a week.” Tony said as he stared at the bouquet of mistletoe. It didn’t take long for you and Peter to come out of your rooms and meet in front of the bouquet.

“Hey, Petey.” You greeted him. “What are you up to?”

“I was gonna grab a snack and then watch Dance Moms compilations.” Peter told you.

“Without me?” You pretended to be offended.

“I was gonna ask you to join.” Peter rolled his eyes sarcastically.

“I’d love to.” You smiled at him. “Let’s go.”

“Wait, is this mistletoe?” Peter realized the bouquet right as you were about to leave.

“Damn, it’s everywhere, huh?” You laughed as you touched the roses, warmed by the color.

“Do we still have to kiss of its not over our heads?” Peter wondered.

“Yes!” Bruce whispered sharply.

“You heard that too right?” Your eyes widened as you looked around for where the voice came from.

“Yeah. I thought it was my conscience.” Peter sighed in relief. Your eyes flickered from the bouquet to Peter, back to the bouquet.

“I mean, we might as well kiss.” You shrugged. “Mistletoe is still mistletoe.”

“You’re right. It would be a waste not to.” Peter nodded eagerly.

“That’s exactly what I was thinking.” You smiled as you pulled him into a kiss. This kiss lasted longer than usual as you both let it linger.

“The plan was smart but you only got one kiss out of it.” Tony whispered to Bruce as you and Peter went to the kitchen.

“Just wait.” Bruce told him. Some enough, you and Peter returned with an armful of snacks.

“Oh, we passed it again.” Peter said robotically, knowing you’d pass it again.

“Oops.” You said sarcastically. “I guess we have to kiss again.”

“Ugh. Every time.” Peter rolled his eyes as he pulled you towards his lips. You gripped his shirt collar and continued kissing him as you pulled him into your room.

“See?” Bruce smirked. “Certified genius.”

Down the hall, Natasha had seen the whole thing, chewing her lips as she came up with a plan.

Natasha

Natasha set her plan in motion a few days later, waiting in the kitchen for you as she stirred a bowl of muffin mix. Peter sat at the counter, reading over one of Bruce’s articles in a book. You came into the kitchen wearing an ugly Christmas sweater that matched Peters, the sight of you making Peter smile.

“Hi Nat.” You beamed at her as you took a seat next to Peter at the kitchen counter. “Whatcha making?”

“I’m making muffins with the berries from mistletoe.” Nat said cheerfully. “They should be really good.”

“You bake?” You asked curiously. “You mean they taught you culinary skills when training you to be an assassin?”

“There’s a lot you don’t know about me. For example, I love ballet. We might even be getting a ballet studio in the tower soon.” She said coyly, making you and Peter exchange a suspicious glance.

“Wow. That’ll be really cool.” Peter played along, skeptically of her intentions.

“Right? Does this look okay to you guys?” Nat asked as she held the mistletoe above your head. “I can’t tell it it’s good to use or not.”

“It looks fine to me.” Peter shrugged as he looked up at it.

“Oh, silly me.” Nat clicked her tongue. “You guys are totally under it. I guess you’ll have to kiss.”

You and Peter exchanged another look before pecking each other on the lips.

“Hmm. I still can’t tell. Can you check again?” Nat asked as she held it up again.

“It still looks fine.” You told her, growing suspicious.

“And you still have to kiss.” She sighed like it was an inconvenience. You narrowed your eyes at her before kissing Peter on the cheek.

“Are you guys sure it’s okay? One more time, please.” Nat held it over your heads a final time. Peter looked at you skeptically before leaning in for a kiss. Both of you were well aware of the sneaky smile on Natashas face.

“Wait, let me see if I can find another one.” Natasha took another bunch of mistletoe out of her grocery bag and pretended to inspect it. She made a whole show of it, making it look like she simply couldn’t find out if it was okay to use. She sighed sadly and looked to you guys for help before holding it up. You and Peter laughed in disbelief before kissing on the lips.

“Wow. Did I accidentally make you guys kiss 4 times?” Nat spoke loudly, as id she was letting all the people in the tower know. “That’s a lot. Looks like we’ll be getting that ballet studio after all.”

“Yeah. That is a lot.” Thor appeared in the doorway upon hearing Natashas declaration. He eyed you and Peter with a ponderous look on his face, becoming aware that he was losing the competition.

“Oops. I just remembered that mistletoe is poisonous.” Nat finished her bit. “Guess I won’t be making these! Bye guys!”

She swiftly left the room, leaving the mistletoe on the counter. You and Peter looked at each other, equally confused about what was happening. Thor walked further into the kitchen and pretended to take interest in the mistletoe. He held it up over his head before holding it over you and Peter.

“Are you two sure this mistletoe is good for use?” He asked, stealing Nat’s idea.

“We’re not kissing for you.” Peter told him flatly.

“I never liked you anyway.” Thor stated as he dropped the mistletoe and left the kitchen. He wandered the tower until he found Pepper reading in the living room.

“Pans. I have some bad news.” Thor sighed as he laid on the couch like he was in a therapists office. “The competition your husband started is rigged.”

“Why do you say that?” Pepper wondered.

“Because I’m losing!” Thor whined. “Gods do not lose to humans. Unless it’s a contest for tiny people.”

“How many kisses have you gotten?” Pepper asked, well aware of the contest.

“0 so far.” He sighed. “Everyone else has four or five. Banner has seven!”

“So you just have to come up with a plan that blows everyone else out of the water.” Pepper shrugged.

“Like what?”

“Everyone else has gotten them to kiss, right?” Pepper asked.

“Yes.” Thor nodded.

“You can get them to date.” Pepper said like it was simple.

“Why, that’s brilliant! Thank you, Pans!” Thor cheered as he got off the couch. “You have done me well.”

“You’re welcome.” Pepper chuckled as she flipped the page.

“Wait, your husband is also in this competition.” Thor realized. “Why are you helping me?”

“Because when Tony wins something, he gets way too cocky and thinks he’s above doing any laundry or cleaning.” Pepper explained. “Someone else has to win or he’ll buy Mexico or something.”

“Thank you, lady Pans.” Thor grinned. “I will not disappoint.”

Thor

“May I come in? I’m just kidding. I am coming in regardless of your answer.” Thor chuckled as he barged into your room. You and Peter had been sitting on the bed, jumping from fear as he came in.

“Hi, Thor.” You said skeptically as Thor pulled up a chair. “Can we help you with something?”

“For the past few weeks, the Avengers have been holding a stupid contest that I am losing to see who can get you two to kiss the most.” Thor explained. “They have been using mistletoe to carry out this stupid contest.”

“Wait, what?” You and Peter looked at each other in shock. Suddenly, the strange behavior and random mistletoe sightings all made sense.

“That’s why there’s mistletoe everywhere?” You asked. “And why did you guys do this in the first place? Why us?”

“Because you two like each other.” Thor shrugged. “And everyone knows it. Except for you two. You don’t know it.”

“What?” Peter sputtered. “We do not-“

“Shh.” Thor hushed him. “Don’t talk to me. Talk to each other. You’re welcome.”

Thor smiled kindly before getting out of his chair and leaving the room, shutting the door behind him.

“I can’t believe they did this.” Peter groaned. “Forcing us to kiss because they think we like each other? Who comes up with that?”

“I know right?” You agreed. “How we feel about each other is none of their business.”

“Exactly. And what do they know? If I liked you, I think I would know.” Peter forced a laugh, well aware that he liked you.

“Yeah. We would know.” You nodded before looking at him skeptically. “We would know, right?”

“I don’t know.” Peter answered honestly. “It’s kinda hard to tell how I feel about you. I never know if something that happens between us is platonic or romantic.”

“Me either.” You spoke softly as you put your hand on his. “Kissing isn’t really platonic, though.”

“I guess not.” Peter chuckled as he looked at you. You stared at him for a moment, heart beating in your ears as you thought out your next step.

“Peter, do you like me?” You asked slowly, looking at him through your eyelashes.

“Um, kinda, yeah.”

“Kinda?” You laughed softly at his answer.

“I’m sorry.” He sighed and squeezed your hand. “I don’t know what to say in this situation.”

“Just tell me how you feel.” You shrugged.

“I feel like I’ve been lingering around places where the mistletoe in hopes that you’ll walk by and kiss me.” Peter confessed, looking at you with a shy smile.

“Well that’s not platonic.” You teased him, leaning into him a little.

“No, it’s not.” Peter agreed. Your eyes flicked to his lips briefly before leaning in to kiss him, pulling his face closer to yours with the hand that wasn’t holding his. He kissed you back once he got over the surprise, sitting up straighter to get closer to you.

“You don’t need mistletoe to kiss me, Petey.” You whispered once you pulled away. “You can do it whenever you want.”

“I’m gonna take you up on that.” Peter smiled softly at you.

“I hope you do.” You flirted before connecting your lips to his again. On the other side of the door, Thor had his ear pressed up against the crack, listening to every word with a huge grin.

“I am so going to win this contest.”

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[dontasktheradiodemon]

The Voice That Launched an Airship

At long last, after almost six months grounded, it's time to re-launch Sir Pentious's @usedhearts airship.

Celebratory gifts are exchanged. Celebratory smooches are also exchanged. People are blown up. Don't worry, they probably deserved it maybe.

Telly

Today was the day. Launch day. The day of launching. The special day, specifically for launching the airship.

Telly was giddy with excitement, beaming with a smile so wide it'd make a Radio Demon jealous. He instructed the Eggs, putting the finishing touches, and doing the double and triple checks of all the defenses. There was no way in Hell he was going to let anything bring down this ship again.

"YOU, 444! CHECK THE POWERLINES TO THE SHIELD GENERATORS AGAIN! I DON'T WANT THEM FAILING AT AN INOPPORTUNE MOMENT! AND YOU! 1A, GET YOUR SUBGROUP AND MAKE SURE THE TANKS ARE SECURE! I THINK I SAW SOME SHODDY WELDING LAST I WAS DOWN THERE!"

He coiled before the controls, slowly and methodically going over all of the buttons and switches and dials with keen eyes. "HAS ANYONE SEEN ALASTOR? HE SHOULD BE HERE BY NOW! REPORT!"

A few nearby Eggs shook their heads-- or rather, their whole bodies. Telly took a breath, nudging the case by his coils with the tip of his tail. Alastor would be here. It was an important day for them both, after all.

Alastor

Alastor was back in the storage rooms, triple checking his work. The inner surface of the hull was crisscrossed with a vast array of sigils and seals, carved and painted and welded along the metal like the hull was an oversized inside-out faberge egg. Every once in a while there was a round metal dome welded in place, usually at the crossroads or center points of his sigils, about the size of a baseball mitt; and beneath the domes were additional protective charms he'd made, each one with a single tiny radio at the heart of it, wrapped in a pouch of snakeskin.

It was some of the most ambitious magical work he'd ever done—at least in terms of intellectual work, as opposed to just a demonstration of blunt power. And he wasn't even finished yet; once they were in the air, he and Telly still had to collaborate on incorporating protective magic into the forcefields.

If this worked, this airship was going to be the best defended structure a sinner had ever made. IF this worked. So Alastor was making sure it would work. There was no way in Hell he was going to let anything bring down this ship again.

Telly

Telly checked the clock again-- He'd give Alastor a few more minutes before calling him up to the bridge. He was probably doing checks of his own. Telly's hood flared briefly as he caught an Egg mooing over him-- and quickly coiled his tail around it. He checked the number-- a quadruple digit, good-- and then cracked it open. Telly slurped down the Egg Boi's yolk and tossed the shell aside. The protein would do him good, stressed as he was.

"NINE!" He called. The Egg toddled over and saluted. "Go find Alastor and see if he requires any assistance, and then inform him his presence is requested on the bridge, if he's done."

Nine gave a hearty 'Yessir!' and marched off. It took the Egg a few minutes of searching before he found where Alastor was, and he walked right up to the Radio Demon without fear. The new feather in his hat bobbed, and he tugged softly on the tail of Alastor's coat.

"Mr. Radioman! Mr. Bossman sent me to see if you needed any help! And then to inform you that your presence is request at the bridge, if you're done." Nine hesitated, before reaching into his little suit to pull out something.

"I have something for you too, Mr. Radioman." He held aloft the small locket, popping it open to reveal the bit of snake skin in it. "This is from the Bossman's first shed. I kept it all this time but....I want you to have it."

Alastor

Alastor was so absorbed in his work—music playing in his head, floating red symbols spread out in front of him—that he didn't even notice the approaching Egg until he was tugging on Alastor's coat.

He started. "What—? Oh! Hello..." He leaned over to check. "Number Nine. No, no help needed—I'm finished here." He could check his wards a hundred more times before he was totally satisfied, but he hadn't found anything yet and he probably wouldn't find anything then.

His concentration was totally broken now, anyway—his gaze locked on the locket. What a beautiful trinket. "Really?" He reached for it, then hesitated and asked again, "*Really?* Why me?"

Telly

Nine looked a little sheepish, rubbing his hands over the locket. "I thought you were going to hurt Mr. Bossman like the other you did. I didn't trust you, but you make Mr. Bossman happy. You're doing so much for him, things us Eggs never could. He's been much more like himself lately, thanks to you, too. So...I wanted to show you that I'm grateful for all of that. And that I trust you to take care of Mr. Bossman."

He tugged Alastor's sleeve to bring down his hand, and placed the locket in it. "Take it. I want you to have it. You can use it, right? Like you did the other shed. To protect yourself? I don't know what would happen to Mr. Bossman if he lost you, and I don't wanna know. So use it and stay safe, for him."

Nine stepped back and nodded. "Are you ready to go up to the bridge, Mr. Radioman?"

Alastor

Alastor's smile softened in self-consciousness and surprise. "Aw, well—gee." Golly gee shucks. He didn't think he'd ever be moved by an egg, but here he was. Not just at the show of trust and gratitude, but also at hearing just how much he was helping Telly.

His fingers closed around the locket. "There's powerful magic in a snake's first shed, especially one that's had so much emotion attached to it. I'll be able to make something strong with this." For now, merely having the locket would be enough to serve as a minor lucky charm. "Thank you. I'll take good care of it." And he'd also have to think of a way to return the favor.

"Ready when you are! Lead the way, my good egg!" And as Alastor followed, he surreptitiously undid his bow tie and unbuttoned his collar, just enough to slip the locket on underneath his shirt and undershirt, before putting his clothes back in order.

Telly

Nine led the way indeed! He toddled along, and before long, they were there.

"Number Nine and Mr. Radioman, reporting for duty!" Nine said, saluting to Telly, as he rounded on them. Telly beamed at the sight, slithering over. He patted Nine and sent him off, before leaning in to give Alastor a quick peck.

"There you are! I was beginning to worry you got lost in the bowels of the ship." He cackled, holding Alastor's hand as he slithered back over to the controls.

"I have something to give you before we launch. How did your final checks go, by the by?"

Alastor

"Mr. Radioman, present and accounted for." Peck! "I've spent so much time decorating those bowels I don't think I could get lost if I tried—I'd recognize my place by the individual rivets. The ship's shipshape, cap'n."

His smile widened a bit. "I've got something for you, too! But give me yours first, I'm greedy."

Telly

"Well, alright, Mr. Greedy." Telly grinned, pulling up the case at his coils. He set it on the armrest of the control panel, popping it open. Inside was a beautiful rifle in red and black, with intricate engravings along the barrel. It was deconstructed at the moment, but even so, it was a gorgeous weapon.

"One one-of-a-kind Sir Pentious original hunting rifle, made special for my partner-in-crime." Telly puffed and grinned, preening a bit. "I'd say it's my finest work!"

Alastor

His eyes widened. "*Oh.*" He ran his hands along it. "My word. It's utterly beautiful." He wrapped an arm around Telly and kissed him, then eagerly started assembling his new rifle. "And me with no chance to test it out before we get underway!" He laughed, then lifted it up to aim toward the window along a path with minimal eggs, finger off the trigger but held as though he were imagining aiming it at some prey. "Oh, I love it already. It feels just right."

Telly

"I thought you might. I balanced it perfectly! There's not a thing out of order or off, I quadruple checked every measurement of every piece!" He put his hands on Alastor's shoulders, leaning his head right next to his. Telly pressed a kiss to his cheek, purring.

"Nothing but the best for _my_ partner-in-crime. Perhaps you'll get a chance to test it soon!" He chuckled, slithering back to the controls.

"Final checks are almost done, then we'll get this bird in the air!" He grinned. "But you have something for me too, yes?"

Alastor

"I do!" He set the rifle down, fished around inside a pocket, and pulled out a little red pouch, about the size of a pocket watch but plumper, sealed shut. "Ta-da. Protection for the ship, *and* protection for you, with a little of your skin in it—among other things." He held it out cupped in his hands so that only he and Telly could see it.

"Now, this is a bit of magic I'm never going to be able to teach you to do, but I can tell you how to use it. Keep it on you in your clothes—an inner pocket would do—don't let anybody else touch it, and feed it from time to time. Perfume or cologne will do fine, particularly perfume made with real ingredients instead of petroleum fragrances. Just dab a bit on the bag at the same time you put it on yourself and that'll be plenty. It needs to be fed because it's a living thing—not in the way you or I were living things, but closer to the way the Eggs are—and that's what's going to make it strong."

Telly

Telly looked at the little bag with wide eyes, nodding along with Alastor's words. His head tilted and his tongue flicked. "It feeds on perfume? Interesting. I tend to use natural ingredients for my scents, so that won't be a problem. When I am...not wearing clothing, where should I put it?"

He carefully took the bag, holding it in both his hands to shield it, and gently tucked it into his inner suit pocket.

Alastor

"Hopefully, when you're naked, you'll usually be here," he winked, "so you'll be safe enough with the ship's defenses. You can keep it by the bed or with your toiletries, wherever you can put it on the next morning. Maybe in a box so nobody will pick it up. Just treat it respectfully. If you want to wear it while you're nude, you can hang it from a belt or a necklace."

Telly

"Oh, I'll have to find a nice little box for it, yes. What kind of wood would be good for it? I don't want one that will interfere with it in anyway." Look at him, picking up things like that already. Telly smiled, flicking his tongue at Alastor.

Alastor

His smile widened. "Cedar would do well," he said, wrapping his arms around Telly.

Telly

"Cedar. I think we have some of that, I'll have a few of the Eggs craft a little box for it. Simple enough." He wrapped his arms around Alastor in return, and kissed his forehead.

"Alright, darling, final checks should be nearly done. You ready to see this thing fly?" He grinned and winked.

Alastor

"I can't tell you how ready I am!" He squeezed Telly. "Show me the view from the air!"

Telly

Telly slithered up to his spot at the controls, keeping an arm around Alastor.

"EGGS! FINAL REPORT! FALL IN!" He shouted, the Super Eggs, along with his oldest five filing into ranks. They saluted, reporting that everything was in order and ready to go. Telly nodded, releasing the arm around Alastor to start pressing things on the control panel.

The engines roared to life, the sound thrumming through the whole airship. Telly grinned.

"OPEN THE LAUNCH DOORS!" He shouted. The roof of the warehouse shuddered and split down the middle retracting to allow the ship to begin its steady upward rise.

"POWERING UP ALL DEFENSES! FORCEFIELD ONLINE! WEAPONRY ONLINE! EVERYTHING IS A GO!" He cackled wildly, throwing two levers forward. The ship picked up speed pushing itself high faster. Telly felt his inner ears pop as they ascended.

"**RISE! RISE MY BEAUTIFUL AIRSHIP! MAKE THOSE FOOLS DOWN BELOW TREMBLE IN FEAR AT THE MIGHT OF SIR PENTIOUS! THE SKIES BELONG TO ME ONCE MORE!!**"

Alastor

Don't mind as Alastor starts playing "Flight of the Valkyries"—he thought the moment needed some fitting musical accompaniment. For a moment he stood alongside Telly, like a loyal second-in-command, but it wasn't long before his excitement got the best of him and he flitted through the shadows to the front of the airship, where he could stare down at the warehouses falling away beneath them. The rumbling of the engine in his bones, the sensation of lifting higher and higher, the signals coming in clearer as the buildings blocking them disappeared... This never got old.

He half turned to smile back at Sir Pentious. "And I'd like to see anyone try to take the skies from us this time!"

Telly

"THAT'SS RIGHT! NO ONE CAN EVER TAKE THEM FROM USS AGAIN! FIRST THIS SSHIP, AND SSOON A WHOLE FLEET! HELL WILL TREMBLE BEFORE USS, THE ENTIRE PRIDE RING WILL FALL AT OUR FEET!" He was on a roll, eyes wide, teeth bared, hood flared. His tongue flicked rapidly and he cackled. A few more switches switched and keys pressed, and he slithered from the controls to join Alastor at the window.

"LOOK AT THEM, DOWN BELOW, TREMBLING LIKE SSHEEP AT THE SSLAUGHTER! THEY'RE RIGHT TO FEAR! THEY'RE RIGHT TO COWER! OUR MIGHT IS UNLIKE ANY HELL HASS SSEEN BEFORE! THEY SSHOULD JUSST GIVE USS THE TERRITORY NOW AND PRAY WE DON'T DESSTROY THEM!! WE ARE--"

His voice cut off as something started plinking against the forcefield right in front of the windshield, making the field visible in little bursts of red-pink light.

"**WHO _DARESS_ FIRE UPON _SSIR PENTIOUSS_ ON THISS, THE DAY OF MY LAUNCHING!**" He turned to the Eggs. "SSOMEONE GET ME A SSPYGLASSSS!!"

Alastor

Alastor chuckled condescendingly. "Oh my, isn't that *cute!*" He leaned forward, squinted, and adjusted his monocle, as if the theatrical display really helped him better see the insignificant threat below. "It's like throwing a baseball at a tank! If the forcefield was *off,* we probably wouldn't have been able to notice it at all!"

He stepped to the side to let an Egg hand over a spyglass. "Why, we could fly straight past without even acknowledging them," he said lightly; and then, voice distorting, teeth sharpening, added, "**But that doesn't sound fun.**"

Telly

"NO, THAT DOESSN'T SSOUND LIKE FUN AT ALL!" Telly snatched the spyglass, raising it to his eye. He focused on the person or persons down below.

"HM!! IT SEEMSS TO BE A RANDOM GROUP OF SSINNERSS! OH! MAYBE A MINOR OVERLORD. DO YOU RECOGNIZE THEM?" He passed the spyglass over to Alastor to take a look.

Alastor

He took the spyglass and peered through himself. "Hm... I think I've seen their ringleader in the papers." He lowered the spyglass so Telly could see him roll his eyes. "But not on the front page. Or in the first section. Just another little gang of troublemaking wanna-bes with too much heavy artillery."

Telly

Telly smirked, and then the smirk turned into an evil grin. "Well! Why don't we give them a proper greeting!"

At that moment, a rocket launched at the airship. It crashed against the forcefield, blossoming into an explosion that rolled across the shield, rippling like a wave of orange and red-pink. Inside, though, not even the vibrations reached them and Telly sniffed haughtily.

"What do you think, darling? Missiles, heat ray, Gatling gun? How sshould we 'greet' them?"

Alastor

"What a fireworks show!" Alastor laughed. "We might want to reduce that later so we don't lose visibility any time we're shotgunned—but my goodness, if it isn't a colorful show right now!"

He tilted his head in exaggerated thought as he considered his options. "After they went to all the trouble of welcoming us to the skies with a rocket, it would only be polite of us to return the favorite! *Missiles.*"

Telly

"Missssilesss it isss!" He grinned and slithered over to open the weapon panel. He took aim and paused.

"Alassstor, my love, would _you_ like to launch the first missssiless?" Telly winked.

Alastor

"I'd be utterly delighted to!" He practically skipped up to the panel—paused for dramatic tension—and then, with a flourish, launched them.

Telly

The missiles let out a ear piercing screech as they launched-- and _that_ explosion sent vibrations through the ship as they made contact. Telly cackled, bringing up the live feed from the cameras outside-- looked like he could've used that this whole time, to see who they were. In the place of the group was a fiery crater, and some seared chunks of sinner.

"WELL! LOOKSSS LIKE THAT TOOK CARE OF THEM!! AHAHA!!"

Alastor

"Oh what a show! An explosive performance! Too hot to handle! Why, that's the best thing I've seen on the TV in decades!" Alastor laughed along with Telly, loud and malicious. "It's like a reverse ship christening! Instead of smashing a bottle on the ship, it's the ship that does the smashing!"

He grabbed Telly's hands and tugged him into a magically-aided spin. "Look at us, we made it! We really made it! You and me! Back in the sky and back on the saddle! Ready to raise Hell and rain hellfire!"

Telly

Telly laughed, spinning with Alastor. He grinned as he pulled him closer, dipping him to kiss.

"We did! We finally did it! Back in the air, and none can bring us down!" He cackled, pressing his forehead to Alastor's. "I love you so much, my hart!"

Alastor

He flung his arms around Telly to keep himself up as he kissed Telly back, a peppy foxtrot playing in the background around them.

"*I'm walkin' on air, yes walkin' on air—*" He cut off his own singing with a laugh, hugging Telly tighter. "I—love you too." A lump formed in his throat. He kissed Telly again.

Telly

He blinked at the reciprocration of the words, and his face broke into an even wider grin. Telly kissed him back, arms wrapped tight around him. He sighed against his lips, righting them.

"I'm so glad to have you in my life..." He purred, and then turned back towards the controls.

"Darling, would you...like to steer whilst I play?" Telly grinned and winked.

Alastor

He had to nod for a moment before he could work past the lump in his throat to say, "Yes—God, yes, I'd like that more than anything." He said it with the exact sort of voice thick with emotion that was usually reserved for ecstatic weepy girlfriends whose boyfriends have just pulled out a ring. A reasonable reaction to getting to drive a terrifying flying death machine.

Telly

Telly purred, leading him back over to the controls. "Just a moment..."

He searched over the console and flipped a switch. Instantly, all the more complicated controls started to ping on unique radio frequencies. "There we go!"

He kissed Alastor's cheek and then headed over to the organ.

Alastor

"My goodness, is this exciting." He fanned himself with a hand as he followed Telly, as if the sheer excitement had him at risk of overheating. "I can hardly contain myself!"

But he abruptly stopped his little fanning act the moment all the controls started turning on. "It just got a whole lot noisier in here, didn't it!" He laughed. "Say, have you ever seen those one man bands? Musicians with a dozen instruments strapped all over their bodies, playing them all at the same time?" Alastor ran through the frequencies, watching as screens and lights throughout the bridge flashed on. "Give me a few weeks to play around, and I'm going to be one."

For now, though, he'd just figure out navigation. He played for a few seconds with the manual controls, listening to the signals they produced as he directed the ship around; and then he copied them, directing the ship forward via radio signals alone. Oh, this was fun. No—*exhilarating.* "What do you think—a lap around the city? Far enough out not to menace downtown but near enough they can see us?"

Telly

"Oh, yes, that sounds wonderful, darling!" Telly smiled as he took his seat at the organ. He cracked his knuckles, flexed his tail, and started playing. The instrument echoed loudly, able to be heard anywhere in the ship-- and anywhere in the near vicinity outside.

They were going to make SURE everyone knew they were back in the sky.

Alastor

Alastor steered the ship in time to the music, waving his cane like a conductor's baton when he directed it to change course, dancing to the music when he didn't need to issue any commands, singing along whenever he knew the lyrics—sometimes stopping to lean with his back pressed to Telly's back to ensure Telly could hear his singing over the thunderous organ music.

Damn straight, everyone would know they were back—and they were never coming down again.

[theliterarywolf]

How was the sequel to Tales from The Hood, a shitshow?

The original Tales from the Hood, while having some campy horror elements, still managed to present its stories and tone competently while still incorporating themes of struggles of black Americans in urban areas. 

Examples: 

A black politician who’s been trying to fight against police corruption gets beaten to death and injected with drugs post-mortem by said corrupt cops to slander his name. The politician returns from the dead to exact vengeance. Obviously this short tackles police brutality and corruption.

A little boy and his mother who are constantly beaten and abused by what he draws and identifies as a ‘monster’ who, it turns out, is the mother’s new boyfriend. The theme here is Domestic Violence and how often people try to brush it under the rug as just a way of life in the community. 

A former klansman-turned senator buys a building called ‘The Dollhouse’ that is of high historical significance to the local black community, despite their wishes and complaints, to serve as the headquarters for his racist campaign to become governor. The house in of itself was where a confederate-supporter, after the loss of the Civil War, decided to murder all of his slaves rather than see them freed. Their restless souls haunted the place until a ‘voodoo woman’ managed to calm their souls and place them into dolls. You can pretty much guess where this is going and the themes.

The final entry centers around a gang-member who, after getting hunted and shot down by rival gang-members, is taken into police custody and is given one last chance for freedom by a doctor’s new, radical behavioral therapy program. Said therapy takes a note right out of A Clockwork Orange and bombards our main character with alternating images of brutal gang-violence and KKK lynchings. After which, he is berated with apparitions of all the people he’s shot and killed; including a little girl who was a victim during one of his drive-by shootings. Of course, this kind of therapy will only be successful if the subject shows some remorse...

And all of this is wrapped in a framing device of three gang-members trying to find some drugs at a funeral-home, even harassing the funeral-director, which turns out to be a portal into hell.

... *deep breath*

I have to do a ‘Read More’ because this post got long. But I implore you guys to read on to see the abyss of insanity and bad directions that were taken in regards to the sequel of this movie. Please.

The sequel decided to throw ALL NUANCE AND TACT out of the window and give us such wonderful stories as: 

A white girl and a black girl are on a road-trip and decide to go to the... ugh... Museum of Negrosity where the owner chastises them on thinking that the uncomfortable racist memorabilia he owns (collections of minstrel show cartoons, golliwog and pickaninny dolls) are things of the past instead of acknowledging them as parts of America’s racist past. And, for some reason, the white girl is obsessed with buying one of the golliwog dolls because she had one when she was little. Anyway, they sneak back in later with the white girl’s brother who happens to be the black girl’s boyfriend, so they can steal one of the dolls. Through hijinks, the doll comes to life and grows to the size of a human being. The brother/boyfriend gets whipped to death, the black girl gets cut in half by a minstrel-colored guillotine, and the white girl... Fucks the giant golliwog doll, gets pregnant, and a few days later, has her stomach torn open as a bunch of baby versions of the doll go flying out everywhere.

Some gang-members track down a former pimp who’s changed his ways to try and shake him down for some owed money. He doesn’t comply, so they kill him but, golly-gee! How are they going to get the money now~? Oh, I know! Hold a scam medium hostage so he can perform a seance to talk to the pimp to find out about the money. But, oh no~ It looks like the medium’s powers decide to actually work this time~ Ooh~

Two douchebags hookup with two hot chicks and, after the world’s worst game of Cards Against Humanity, they decide to roofie the girls so they can record themselves raping them so they can post it to ‘le dark web’. ... Lo’ and behold, the girls turn out to be vampires who were playing 4D chess to rope the two douchebags in so they can use them for their own recording-something-brutal-to-post-online scheme. 

And... The LAST one. Oh my God, the LAST ONE. *deep breath* Okay.

So we follow a black republican councilman who is married to a white woman and they’re expecting a baby after a long line of miscarriages. But the wife is having weird bouts of bad dreams and insomnia. What are the bad dreams about? 

... I need you guys to understand. That I am not shitposting when I type the following words. *deep breath* Okay. 

The wife is being haunted by the ghost of Emmett Till telling her that she doesn’t deserve to have her baby. You know? Emmett Till? The victim of one of the most brutal, horrific murders in America due to one of the most disgusting, vile acts of racism? THAT EMMETT TILL?!

So..! The black councilman is working for a white politician who... I’m just going to put a direct quote from the movie so you can get where they were coming from.

“That man wants to close down ten more voting locations, all of them in black districts!”

Anyway, after a house-call from a doctor who brushes off the dreams as hormones, the councilman hosts a party for the politician who’s running slogan is ‘Let’s take Mississippi back!’ Gee-golly-willickers! Can’t imagine where they were coming from with that one!!

So the party goes on, the politician even congratulating our councilman on his ‘white wife’, but said wife rushes downstairs after having another dream; ranting about ‘that boy from the field has decided to LIVE! And if he lives, our baby’s going to die!’ And she runs outside with a machete to try and kill the ghost of Emmett Till (who, again, very real person and victim of racist brutality). 

So the councilman’s mother and the local voodoo expert drive up and the voodoo expert tells the councilman that Emmett Till is trying to talk to him about the nature of sacrifice. The next day, the wife is talking about how her stomach is getting smaller, but the councilman doesn’t want to hear any of it and calls the doctor again. And, guys..?! If shit hadn’t jumped the rails before?! The train just starts doing cartwheels from here. 

The doctor is suspiciously short-tempered with the politician this time around and he does examine the wife to confirm that her stomach is indeed shrinking. However, when he’s told that the councilman is the father, he storms out and snaps “I don’t work for coloreds!” 

Then the wife runs out of bed and tells the doctor that the councilman isn’t her husband and that he kidnapped and raped her. So both the wife and the doctor drive off and the councilman realizes that the world has somehow gone back to the era of Jim Crow. 

... Oooh my gosh, typing this is making me want to commit toaster-bath but it gets so much worse..!

So, after the voodoo expert comes to chastise the councilman about not ‘respecting the sacrifices that have been gifted to you’, he is able to see the ghost of Emmett Till (who was a real person, why is this happening..?!) who is there to tell him that he’s decided that he wants to live. Which means that the world will never see the brutal images of his body at his funeral and that will cause a Butterfly Effect in history that will make it so that the Civil Rights Movement never happened. 

You may be questioning the logistics of this, but don’t worry! The ghosts of the girls killed in the 1963 16th Street Baptist Church Bombing in Birmingham come to explain and further berate the councilman about ‘respecting the sacrifices that have been gifted to him’ and working for a racist politician. 

But wait! There’s more! *whines* I keep crying out to God but he won’t answer...

They’re soon joined by the ghosts of the three Freedom Riders who were killed during the Mississippi Burning Murders, the ghost of Civil Rights Activist Medgar Evers, and DR. MARTIN LUTHER KING, JR. 

Not to mention several other unnamed figures who walk up while everyone else starts chanting about ‘respecting the sacrifices that have been gifted to you’, who look like Rosa Parks and Frederick Douglass, just to name a few. 

... I need a drink. I need a cold, stiff drink. ... Almost done. 

So, in comes the Klan. You know, the white-robed bastards; I hear they have an outreach center a few cities away from me. Sure, fine, whatever. The wife is leading them along with the white politician who hits the councilman’s mother in the face with a baton and Emmett Till stops time just as reinforcements show up to tell the councilman that, in order for everything to go back to normal, he has to join the ranks of those who sacrificed. 

“If what you want is worth us dying for, how come its not worth you dying for?!”

And, at first, the councilman disagrees; even being dragged away by Klansmen. However! It’s his wife angrily spitting in his face that makes him realize that this world isn’t the world he wants to live in. So he runs over to Emmett Till to tell him that he will join him... And then he’s beaten to death, becoming a sacrifice to get the world back to normal. And, once it is, his spirit joins Emmett Till’s and walks off into the great beyond. 

So! Not only did this schlocky, B-movie horror movie sequel decide to use a REAL LIFE VICTIM of racism-driven brutality as a story-device, but it also wants to put forth the message that the people who lost their lives during the Civil Rights Movement? Yeah, they HAD to die! Otherwise the Civil Rights Movement would never have happened~!

You see why I hate the sequel to Tales from the Hood so much? Not even mentioning the terrible framing segments of a racial-profiling robot being told these stories so it knows what ‘criminals’ to go after, but this movie is just a temple of ‘WHY?! WHY ARE YOU LIKE THIS?!?!?!’

[alteridolriley]

Finding My Place [Part 1]

Heya there everyone! Today is a super special day! Today is @availe‘s birthday! Maxi is one of my very best friends, one of the most important people to me in the world so I told her to pick two pairings and I would write a fic about them. I wasn’t sure what the topic would be so I just kinda let the words flow!

This is a bullet fic because writing a whole fic is hard right now with my current state in life so I apologize.

This fic includes (in its entirety not just this part): human AU, Anxceitmus (QPR Remus/Virgil and QPR Deceit/Virgil, Demus is romantic in the ship), Logince, swearing, violence mention, angst, depression, suicidal mentions, fainting, general not taking care of yourself moods, drugs, alcohol, and.... all sides are shown in a positive light, if that matters. It’s an AU anyway.

Devyn = Deceit (That’s also important LOL)

With all that said, please enjoy!

---

Devyn knows a lot of things. He considers himself an expert in some fields but still a jack of all trades in certain situations. However, there is one thing he feels he lacks. No matter how much he thinks about it, researches it, and records the process and its results, the outcome is always the same.

"Remus, you can't just hang up those creepy curtains on the front window!" Virgil calls up the stairs. The man in question cackles and Virgil growls back. "Don't expect your villain laugh to get you out of everything. I already got an earful from the lady next door about it disturbing her kids."

"Ahhh they'll get used to it." Remus says as he walks down the stairs to meet Virgil at the bottom. He stays on the second to the last step, making himself nearly a head taller than Virgil. Without warning, Remus wraps his arms around Virgil's neck and squeezes as a big smile appears on his face. "Oh golly gee, I just love you Virgil."

The black haired boy couldn't prevent the smirk that appears on his face as he leans back and kisses Remus on the cheek. "Mhmhm… love to be a pain in my neck is more accurate."

Both of them laugh before turning to see Devyn standing in the doorway to the kitchen across from the stairs, staring at them intently. 

"Do we have something on our face?" Virgil questions before Remus jumps down and runs to Devyn, almost slapping him with his arms instead of wrapping him in a hug.

"No…" Devyn assures. He leans his head against Remus. The smallest boy fits perfectly under Devyn's arm and Virgil walks over slowly, Devyn reaching and grabbing Virgil's right hand. He brings it to his lips, kissing it gently. 

"I want a kiss!" Remus pouts.Devyn obliges, kissing him on his forehead. Remus feels his cheeks burning red as he hides his face in his partner's chest.

"Is something the matter?" Virgil questions.

"No." Devyn says quickly as a blink of panic passes Virgil's eyes. "I just still have yet to fully understand what I've done in this world to deserve this with both of you." His voice trails off at the end as his gaze fell along the house surrounding them. 

Boxes scattered everywhere, some half empty as they unpacked to live in this new beautiful home. One picture was on the mantle above the fireplace: a shot of all three of them in suits: Devyn in yellow, Virgil in a deep purple, and Remus in a forest green, framed in a brown oak frame. Their wedding day only a month prior. 

"Dee…" Remus says softly as he hugs Devyn tightly. 

Devyn feels himself remembering. He tells the two he wants to take a break while they unpack upstairs. The two agree after giving him more hugs. Devyn sits on the couch in the living room.

xxx

Devyn had just been released from prison two years prior. 

He had been wrongfully charged with murder and had his life turned upside down for over ten years.

Upon release, he met Remus at a local gay bar. He hadn't intended on falling in love with the strange man but it just sort of happened. 

Devyn quickly learned Remus was already in a relationship.

Devastated by this, Devyn cut off all contact with Remus and stopped going to that specific bar all together. 

Drinking his sorrows away at a bar closer to his home, Devyn accepts that his life as a 32 year old gay man meant that he was probably doomed to be alone forever. 

Music started playing and he realizes it was live, playing in the next room over.

He peeked in to see a huge crowd surrounding a stage. Neon purple lights lit up the band. A lead singer with a guitar, a bass player, a drummer, and a… violinist? Wait, what?

The music was beautiful and the singing amazing, but Devyn couldn't tear his eyes away from the violinist. 

Such perfect strokes and form, the melody tore right at Devyn's heart. 

The song finished with a dramatic solo from the violinist and Devyn applauded along with the crowd. 

He listened to the voices around him closely, trying to figure out who they were.

"My gosh they're all so amazing! Virgil knocked it out tonight! How does he play the violin so well??"

"Gotta give props to Roman too! He goes through those low notes to high so easily. Is he even human with that range?"

"Nah nah did you listen to that drum solo? My boy Logan is the most talented by far. The technical details in his playing is just… so damn good."

"But Patton's bass solo was good too! He's come a long way in the short time he's been playing."

"Flight of the Hearts is just an amazing band. They're gonna take the world by storm, I just know it!"

Devyn stared at the band and they signed and took photos with fans at the foot of the stage. He wanted to hear more. 

He noticed a merch table just next to them and wondered over. Two self published CDs were on the table “Dreamer” and “Cyclone” and one of just Virgil's violin creations called "Calming Yourself". 

Devyn never purchased anything faster in his life. 

A bell went off above his head once he purchased it all. 

"Major sale! All CDs plus a shirt!" A voice shouted.

Devyn felt himself wish he wasn't where he was.

Until---

The whole band came over behind the table.

"Hey thanks for your support!"

Devyn recognizes him as the lead singer (Roman?) He was built like a jock, a football player to be specific, but had very soft eyes and a gentle smile.

"Dearheart, there's no reason to yell at him. He looks utterly confused. I told you that bell wasn't the best idea…"

The drummer… Logan right? He was smaller than Roman by over a foot at least. Glasses sat on the bridge of his nose (was he wearing those on stage?) and he pushed them up. He had an air of a person who would win on Jeopardy by a mile. Logan had his arm around Roman's waist, pulling him gently back. 

"Thanks for purchasing all of our work! We really appreciate it!"

Another glasses wearer? Oh it's Patton, the bassist. Right, right. He seemed the most genuine and down to earth, at least in this instance. He gestured to take the CDs back.

"Come on everyone let's sign them!" Patton called out to his bandmates.

Roman and Logan returned, holding hands and Roman kissing their entangled fingers.

Devyn wanted what they had, desperately. He felt an emptiness in his heart.

Without realizing it, Devyn had Virgil standing in front of him closer than he would've liked. 

"Can I help you?" Devyn demanded. 

Virgil squinted his eyes and frowned. "What's your name?"

Accusatory voice, mean look… the glare peeking through his long bangs and was that heavy eyeshadow?

"We just wanna sign your stuff! Right… Virgil?"

Patton clearly fell the same unease emanating off of Virgil as Devyn did. The more he stared back at Virgil, the more angry Devyn became. 

"My name is Devyn. What about it?" Harsh tone, spat in anger.

"I knew it. I recognized that scar on your face. How fucking dare you?!" Virgil leaped over the table. "How dare you break my Remus's heart, you bastard?!"

The crowd began chanting. "Fight, fight, fight!" and before he realized it, Devyn was about to punch Virgil before both of them were pulled back. Patton had pulled back Virgil and Devyn realized Roman had grabbed him under his arms with his own.

Security had quickly corralled everyone out of the tiny room, leaving only Devyn with the band. 

Logan stood between the two warring ones. 

"What are you talking about?" Devyn demanded, shaking off Roman, nodding to agree he wouldn't fight. 

"Remus has been so upset since you cut him off. He loved you, you dickhead!" Virgil was basically foaming at the mouth. His eyes were red and filled with tears. "Why? What possessed you to do that to him?" 

Devyn's memory flashed to the last image of Remus he remembered. Smiling brightly at him as he left the bar that night over a month before. Devyn had blocked and deleted his number. Basically ghosted him. 

But…

Remus had been in a relationship, right? Devyn didn't want to force his way in and hurt someone else. 

Devyn looked up to see Patton comforting Virgil in his arms, shhhing him like a small child.

A hand landed on his shoulder. He glanced over.

Roman. 

He had a sad look in his eyes. 

"Allow me to explain, Devyn. I'll start from the beginning. I am Roman, lead singer of "Flight of the Hearts". This is my partner, Logan, our drummer. The one holding our dearest violinist, Virgil, is the wonderful Patton. He is also Virgil's older brother. Virgil's partner is Remus… the man who works at The Half Side of the Full on Center Street. He's also my twin."

Devyn blinked and realized in that moment that Roman was the spitting image of Remus, only taller and a bit more buff. He was also missing Remus's adorable mustache but that was beside the point. 

"I left Remus because he told me about you." Devyn started, glancing at Virgil. "Never mention you by name of course. Just that he had the most amazing boyfriend in the world and I decided I didn't want to break my own heart. So I left him and his perfect life alone. Because who needs a fucked up person like me in his life?!"

Devyn realized he was shouting but he didn't care. He also ignored the tears rolling down his face. His scar around his left eye burning from the salt in his tears. Devyn knew in that moment he'd always be a fuck up somehow. 

"Remus was so important to me. I love him more than anything. Because… he allowed me to forget and move on. I was no longer trapped in my lying, deceitful past. I was able to actually be me."

Devyn turned and shoved past Roman only to stop short of the exit, blocked by a familiar face. 

"Remus…" it barely left Devyn's mouth. 

"I never got to tell you." Remus said. "I was going to tell you I loved you the next day. And I wanted you to meet my boyfriend because we're both poly and you had mentioned in passing you were too. I didn't press it because well… I wasn't sure how much you enjoyed how I am."

Devyn had never seen Remus so calm. It was weird and he didn't like it. He liked his Remus bouncing off the walls, talking about his latest findings on the side of the road; alive or dead. He liked Remus when he tried to make fake blood to put on the windows for Halloween and it ended up being actual animal blood because that's how obsessed Remus was with what he did.

This calm demeanor didn't suit the wacky man at all.

"Like them…? Remus… I adore you. You were so true to yourself in ways I couldn't predict. I love that even though you were pushed away by society for who you are… you didn't let that change you. You refused to live a lie. Something I had done all my life."

Remus crossed the gap between them and in one full motion, pulled Devyn down like a princess, holding him gently in his arms.

"Let me do what I've been holding back for so long." Remus begged.

Devyn nodded and they kissed. It was soft at first, tickling Devyn's upper lip with Remus's rough mustache, before Devyn felt it deepen even further. He didn't want it to stop…

"Geez, brother! Get a room!" Roman blurted which caused the two to pull away.

Devyn licked his lips and Remus did as well, promising more later.

Remus allowed Devyn to stand as they walked back over to the rest of the group. Virgil reintroduced himself and apologized as did Devyn. Remus explained that Virgil is his QPP as Virgil is asexual and quoiromantic. Both were fine having other partners. Devyn joked about the fact that maybe he would fall for Virgil too if Virgil played him the violin more. The group laughed even though Devyn was dead serious.

As it turned out, the band, including Remus, lived together in a rented house just down the street. It wasn't glamorous or anything but enough to keep all of them out of the rain and comfortable.

As they walked in, Virgil asked Devyn about his living conditions and he dodged the question by bringing up food. 

Remus grabbed Devyn's hand and squeezed, asking again.

Devyn admitted to living in a Motel 6. It was all he could afford after being released from jail. His factory job was paying him well now but he had to consider uber fees to get to and from work. The off three days working four was nice too but he had to be careful. He had no savings to fall back on. 

Remus jumped up. "Why didn't you tell me?"

"My past is not something I am proud of." Devyn admitted. "But… it is something I should explain before we get too far into things."

To Be Continued….

[rixxy8173571m3w1p3]

The Truths Found On Petram Viridios IV (5/5)

A/N: The last chapter to this fic. It's a long one and I gotta say that I've had a lot of fun with this one. After I post this chapter, I'll be sure to post the masterpost for this fic. And of course it'll be available on ao3 soon enough.

Read Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4

__________

Chapter 5: Adore You

If you had to draw a map to find the way home once you were captivated by the gaze of those trustworthy, soft eyes of his, you would surely run out of ink; pools of blue, unwavering in their affection, drew you in, and you were willing to drown in them. There were facets about them that fascinated you as much as the scales of a butterfly did; they did not shimmer, but they gleamed and sparkled; it's what made you pause and search for a wisp of an acquaintance that very first time you saw him; finding a familiarity that threatened to sweep you away. Why you even found fire in those eyes; it was there in his moments of determination and passion. Oh, how their color shifted with his moods was a type of magic you wanted to spend the rest of your life being mesmerized by. To be sure he wasn't mistaken, he dare not blink; exhibiting the full spectrum of what Billie Eilish described as ocean eyes; he had to be sure. "Y-you do?"

"Yes," you giggled. "I do."

It wouldn't occur to you till later, that he had given you a choice. For instead of the typical proposal question, where it was more asserted, Rick asked in a manner in which there was equal footing; it spoke volumes of the respect he had for you. With shaky hands, he slipped a ring whose stone was as clear and blue as his eyes and cut perfectly like a rose, the band covered in gold vines and silver leaves which weaved together; he made it himself, and if you thought back far enough, you could remember when he was ambiguous about his plans to create a new type of stone. Honestly, you didn't realize it would be for this.

"Gosh," he sniffled. "I-I promised myself that I w-wouldn't cry."

But cry he would; fat, sloppy tears that blinded one's vision. He wiped at his eyes with the sleeve of his sweater, and fought to regain composure, but lost to the new wave which followed. You gently pried his hands away from his face, softening at his tear-stained cheeks. "It's okay, you can cry if you want to. I already know how tender you are."

Goodness, how long had he wanted to do this? For while it had almost been two years in which he had last attempted to, it might've been on his mind for much longer than that; eating away at his clarity; at the self-confidence that was torn down and repaired daily. You were grateful and proud that this man wanted you; that he finally gathered the courage to ask and do as he intended and wanted. You….you had wanted this to happen, but did he know that? Your ocean of inquisitions thought otherwise.

However, it was time to quiet and quell his despondent thoughts. Your fingers dug into the collar of his sweater; the tang of nervous sweat and something so him which wafted off him made you yearn to bring him closer. The puffiness about his eyes didn't discourage you from pressing a kiss at the corner of them and from his throat came a choked sob and you were surrounded by the sounds of his disbelief; this cacophony was breaking your heart. There had to be something you could do to ease him. "Ricardo," you started, "considering the suddenness of the occasion, should we, in like fashion…my dear honey man, would you like to get married today?"

This new tidbit caught him off guard; so much so that he stopped crying; good. Now, he was the one who was unsure of whether this was real life or a simulation. He ran his fingers through his hair, double-checked his equipment, sprayed himself with water, and completed equations that had taken this earth dimension's leading mathematicians decades to understand. What you thought was odd was when he caught a pigeon, scanned its anatomy, and found it was sound; you were going to have to ask him about it later. "Rick, did you hear me?"

"Y-yes," he focused, "but what d-do you mean today? How?"

You figured he would have easily come to a conclusion, but then again, what do spacemen have to do with the price of bread?

"I mean that we don't have to wait if you don't want to." You slid your palm over his tattoo, memorizing with your fingertips where his skin was slightly raised. "We can just go down to the justice of the peace if you'd like."

"And y-you would be my wife today?"

"Yes," you giggled. "I think that's how it works."

"But what about a-a…"

"A wedding ceremony?" you interrupted. "Well, we can have one later. We can plan it however you want, and invite all our friends. There can be so much celebration that we'll be knocked out for a week. Until then, I just want to make you happy, and I believe the sooner the better. Okay? So, if we're going to do this, just tell me now and I'll go get the proper paperwork."

It never ceased to amaze you how easily he flitted through emotions as though it were the weather, and with vigor, he lifted you up and vibrated with joy. "Boy, golly gee…this really - this really razzes my b-berries! This is…wow, I-I can't believe it."

You couldn't believe his word choice either. "Oh, you better believe it, because now you're stuck with me and I have you all to myself. However, you're going to have to put me down now because the office closes at five. There are a few things I need to do before then."

Letting you down, he happily waved goodbye despite the fact that it wouldn't take long to get what you needed for this impromptu occasion. Though, when you entered your house, you took a moment to think about your father. There were things you still didn't understand, like why he never told you about his friendship with Rick, or why you two never really discussed what he'd do if you got married; if he had been here, maybe you two would have talked about which flowers would look best as centerpieces; like whether roses or mums were cheerful enough or if this really was a good idea; if such an age gap was surmountable. Yet, in a way you felt as though you were honoring him; for your father and your mother had been unconventional and had gotten married without all the showy displays then road tripped a bit before settling here; you were simply following tradition.

Maybe, you didn't have to know about the why's and what-ifs, but focusing on what you could do seemed a whole lot easier to do. You kicked off your sneakers and dashed upstairs. You knew where your important documents were, but you thought that choosing a cute outfit would take a little longer. You wanted a certain vibe, one that would make things easier on him and then it came to you; why not revisit an old favorite; one that reminded you of his eyes; always, forever blue.

When you returned, you found him pacing around. He was deep in thought, and it took a moment for him to notice that you had returned. Almost comically, his eyes widened as he took in your appearance, and he started to cry again. "That's th-the dress. From that one time."

"It sure is."

With a twirl, you flaunted the blue chiffon dress, and felt like a dream; his visible adoration was not lost on you. It was a relief that this time you hadn't taken an hour to fuss or worry that you weren't dressed for the part, and you weren't wearing shoes which would kill your feet, but instead rocked some converse. "These shoes are made for walking and that's just what I'll do."

Unlike you, Zeta-7 wanted to fuss and choose something dressier, but you somehow managed to convince him that his blue button-up would be fine, and no tie was necessary; hidden ray guns were allowed just in case this happened to be the day that the Gromflomites attacked; not even Earth-based military scanners would be able to detect them. Though, you did allow him to fix up his hair, because one, you thought he was quite handsome with it combed back, and two, it's what he felt he needed to do to look the part. "How do I-I look?"

"Like the man I'm going to marry. Are you ready handsome?"

With a nod, he grabbed the folder with all the documents he needed. "Y-you bet."

______________

At the courthouse, the entire security staff grouped together and teased you about your keys; you should've known that you'd face trouble once you went through the metal detector; you had a lot of keychains; they were from the days when you and your father would go shopping together. Like Rick, he liked yard sales and thrift stores; sometimes he'd get grab bags and there would be vintage keychains, and he'd give them to you knowing you'd like them. You were told by one of the older guards that it wasn't natural for a grown woman to have a set of keys that weighed five pounds. Zeta-7 began to worry, but you told him you could handle it, and you figured the guards were bored and had nothing else to do. What you didn't tell them was that the main reason your keys were heavy was that you were carrying two sets; yours and your father's old keys; Rick knew, but he respected your wishes to leave it be.

Despite this, you two made your way to the right office; it only took fifteen minutes of going to lobby after lobby, free coffee, and endless rugs in all this indoor nothingness. And nobody knew better than Rick when it came to how much you hated paperwork, but nonetheless, you went through the painstaking process of signing this and that, wondering why they didn't make it easier for people by asking yes or no questions; this better not become someone's confetti. Rick breezed through it all, and you were slightly jealous that he knew what he was doing, but it was due to the fact that citadel paperwork was a lot more frustrating and difficult; he had to go through stacks of it weekly; poor man. While he sat quietly, you were in-between forms that had to be signed in triplicate and heard the gossip coming from the people who were working in the back of the office. What they didn't know was that their ignorance made you more determined; you'd fought your own expectations, that of others, as well as what seemed right to do long enough and no one, not even death itself was going to stop you from doing this; it was the best thing you could ever do for yourself and for him as well. You breathed a sigh of relief when you and Rick finally signed the marriage certificate; finally, it was done, and he watched rapturously as you set down the pen so that he could kiss you without refrain.

If you hadn't known better, you'd say the world shied away; dissolving into a plane of nothingness as he enveloped you with a strength that was deceptive for a man of his years; he had become a little more confident; it might've taken a few years, but all you knew was that it suited him. Being nurtured and cared for, as well as loved in the right sort of environment did wonders on Zeta-7; so much so, that he could hold the world in the palm of his hand and still manage not to damage it. It wasn't shocking that some found this outward display sweet, and you almost had hope for humankind, but then there was a laugh or two from the back; you made a mental note to consider moving off Earth. No one was going to ruin this moment for him, and relishing the moment, you chased his mouth for a second kiss; you know, to prove your point.

And if you hadn't already been proud of him, what made you even prouder was what he said on the way out. "Please stop laughing at m-my wife. Th-that's very rude."

His wife? Yes, you were his wife now. It's strange how you could wake up and wonder what you should have for breakfast and be here where you were now; in a whole new chapter of your life; wondering what will come next. Confusing yes, but not something to be afraid of; you welcomed this happy transition.

Back at the car, you were still recovering from his earlier outburst; the like which was almost out of character. "Did you see the look on her face? I thought it was going to fall off with how far her jaw dropped. Wasn't it a sight?"

Though, he was busy staring at the ring on his own hand which you had picked out when you two made a stop at a consignment shop earlier. It wasn't that complex like yours, but he loved it. "All I could see was - was you."

"You flirt."

You gave his shoulder a playful shove, and in turn, he laughed a full-on belly laugh; this happy noise was music to your ears. "Gosh, I-I mean it. Y-you, look so pretty today." A bit shyly, he commented. "Blue looks very good on you."

"Thank you. So, how should we celebrate? A trip to the moon perhaps? Going across the universe? Maybe a kaiju fight with Matango? Or watching Spiderman 2? Honestly, I'm game for anything."

You had decent shoes on and didn't care what he wanted to do because you were happy if he was happy. And as though it were just another afternoon, he glowed with happiness when he asked. "Mrs. Sanchez, do you - do you want to go get some ice cream?"

Some things will never change and you didn't mind that. "I'd love to. As the author, L.M. Montgomery once said, 'I guess ice cream is one of those things that are beyond imagination.' And, you know, it's so true. I intend to go all out with the toppings today. It's certainly that kind of occasion."

______

He couldn't seem to want to let go of your hand; as though the world would fall away if he didn't and that this would turn out to be a cruel dream. Still, you humored and spoiled him. As intended, you got all the toppings; Rick thought it was a kids dream come true with the amount of candy you had in your waffle bowl. And since you had enough to share, you took the liberty to feed him. He chatted on; offering charming stories from his band days; unlike other Ricks who were in a rock band called Flesh Curtains, his band had been a jazz and bossa nova trio; the band name had been comprised of a numerical equation; if you had named them you would've called them the Zeta Bytes.

Now, Rick wasn't a messy eater, but during one of his more excitable stories, he spilled a bit on the corner of his mouth. Ready with a napkin, you wiped it away, and couldn't help but laugh at how boyish it was. Giving your hand a squeeze, he absentmindedly brushed his thumb on the back of your hand; adoration coloring his voice. “You're t-t-too good to me.”

"There's no such thing. If anything, I gotta spoil you rotten."

You found no hindrance in his mood and this time he didn't think twice about kissing you then and there as he liked while you were still holding the napkin; fear and shame of public displays of affection being one less thing to worry about now. Who cared if your ice cream was melting, because your heart was melting; his mouth tasted of chocolate and promises. A soft chuckle escaped him as he pulled away; his promise whispered against your lips. "I-I promise I'll be good t-t-to you."

Being loved suited him; it really, really did wonders on his countenance and it made you wonder what else he could now do.

_________

By now you were a little tired, but Ricks contagious energy invigorated your spirits; you bet he could've come up with an invention and completed it today if he stayed this hyped up. Instead, he used that energy to make fresh rolls to go with the leftover acorn squash soup; you hadn't been that hungry, but you enjoyed it nonetheless. And when dinner had been eaten, you helped him with the dishes; nothing you hadn't done before, but his spirit was lighter and more at ease; he even bumped your hip with his as a gesture of playfulness. After cleaning up the kitchen, he decided that he'd like to take a shower and refresh himself and in the meantime, you stepped out into the backyard to enjoy the beauty of the night. In this part of town, despite the light pollution, you could see a fair amount of stars.

You had never studied astronomy, but Rick had shown you in diagrams and in textbooks of their names and explained how they were formed; to him, their complexity was like poetry, and it made them beautiful. You couldn't recite it by memory, but you had a feeling that beyond your current comprehension perhaps there was life amongst those heavenly bodies, despite the heat or deadly gases; if you had learned anything about space, it was that worlds were more along the lines of art and beauty than fields of science which were easily explained. Yet, in the air, where there was a sweet perfume, thick, but intoxicating, only where you were currently mattered; you saw that in the leftmost part of the yard there was jasmine which was currently in bloom; its blanket of flowers reminding you of snow. Hadn't you read of this somewhere before? Maybe.

In the grass near your feet, grasshoppers leaped away, and crickets chirped their songs. And you relished the strong breezes and the song of the night which may consume a melancholic heart if it were searching for tragedies instead of sweet dreams. And it had only been a few hours ago when you had thought that all of which transpired might've been a dream. Though, whatever truths that had come to light in the hours after the simulation, you were glad of them.

In the dark, sights and sounds were heightened and mesmerizing, albeit curious in its own right; if it hadn't been for the sound barrier Rick had on his property, you would've heard the obnoxious sound of the next-door neighbor's TV as they watched infomercials. Still, it was a beautiful night. Sitting on the bench which overlooked the whole yard, you thought of what wonderful things you'd like to share with Rick, and then he found you. For his part, he had changed into something more relaxed; into a light blue button-down that was similar to the one he was wearing earlier, but this one was softer, and it was paired with navy pants; it reminded you of blue pants Rick with his attire, but it was cute and suited him. With him, he had brought over a tray of goodies and you two ate cookies and cakes and drank earl grey under the moonlit night.

The pause in conversation gave allowances for observations. For example, you took a good long look at him as he sipped his tea; admiring how casual he appeared tonight. Without his labcoat or sweater, his identity seemed separate from that of his dimension jumping, scientist self; making way for the person deep inside; the friendly neighbor who won your heart without even trying. He noticed eventually that you had been staring at him, and he broke the silence with his inquiry. "What are y-you thinking about?"

"I'm thinking about you cutie. You um….you look really good in those blue pants of yours. Thinking of taking up modeling anytime soon?"

"N-no," he answered with an air of obliviousness that you found endearing. "not unless my next work assignment requires it. Gee, why do you ask?"

"Hmm, it's because you wear your clothes well. I always thought you did, but I don't believe I ever mentioned it."

He ruminated on what you said for a few minutes, before setting down his cup. "Did you - did you always find me attractive?"

"No," you confessed. "but you're the only person I've ever really been attracted to. I…..I always liked the fact that our relationship was built on something more substantial. You see, the more I got to know you, the more irresistible I found you. Though," you winked. "those teeth of yours were always too cute to resist."

This truth of yours made him comfortable enough to relinquish one of his own. "C-can I tell you a secret?"

"It's not much of a secret if you tell me dear, but you can tell me anyway."

Wringing his hands together, he confessed solemnly. "That day y-you tripped on the sidewalk nearby my house, I-I almost decided not to cross the road."

Not cross the road? Hmm, it had been an option. In your mind's eye, you could imagine it; the tall, lanky figure of a man debating against his better judgment on what he ought to do; so close but so far; knowing that he was altering the course of his future and putting yours at risk. Poor man, having to wallow over a moral dilemma like that. "Why is that?"

"Gosh, y-you….I didn't want to take advantage of the situation."

It could've been taken that way, but you never thought so. "So what changed your mind?"

"I thought you were going to cry, and I-I didn't… I didn't want you to suffer anymore. I thought t-to myself, that if I got t-t-to know you, then you wouldn't have to be lonely anymore."

When he said this, you nearly couldn't look at him; not because he knew more than he let on, but because who knows what paths you two would've taken if he hadn't shown up that day. Tears bit at the back of your eyes, and your nails bit into your palms. "Dear, love isn't always a cure for heartache," He tensed up at this, but you knew you had to tell him. You weren't upset because you had guessed as much, but being assured of it cemented the fact. "but I'm sure that without you, without your friendship, I might not be here right now. I think I was depressed, and from time to time I still feel that way. I…I have thought of ways to make my troubles end, ways you might not have been proud of, but you've shown me a better way to live. I think…no, I know that by expanding my horizons, I understand now that there's so much to look forward to, and not to take life for granted. Why," you paused, fighting the tears which threatened to fall. "you reminded me that I gotta make the most of this crazy, unpredictable life, and I'm happy that I'll get to do that with you."

He understood and accepted this answer and gave you a look of adoration and pride; the like that you hoped you'd always remember. And when you two were done with tea, you both took a walk about the garden. The sweet perfume of jasmine intermingled with that of the scent of his soap, and combined with the candor of his speech made this place feel like a well of comfort. He followed behind you as you two spoke, and you were conscious of the fact that with his freshly washed hair brushed back, it made him more appealing. His hands were in want of yours as he matched your pace, and you felt slightly mischievous as you'd skip or teased him to catch you; it wasn't long until he gathered you in his arms and laughed, and you asked without much seriousness for him to let you go, but while he loosened his grip, he didn't let go entirely. "Gosh, y-you make me feel so young. It - it feels so good to have you in my arms."

"Oh, really?" you giggled. "That's great to hear."

Pressing a kiss to your temple, he sighed. "It's unfortunate that I'm so old."

"That's okay. I like you as you are. It goes well with your personality."

"Thank you mi corazón. It feels good to hear that. However, can I-I ask you something?"

"Mhm."

"¿Si hubiera s-sido más joven, habría marcado la diferencia?"

"If you had been younger? I don't know. Possibly," you admitted. "I might've been less reluctant about my feelings at the beginning, but I truly don't know. I'd like to think that I'd still would've fallen for you anyway. You're a wonderful man Ricardo, you don't have to doubt that, anyone can see that. It doesn't matter how old you are, but it's who you are."

"Y-you're right." With reluctance, he allowed his arms to drop to his sides, and he wondered. "It um - it's getting late. Should I-I walk you home?"

Was he forgetting that he didn't have to? Maybe not. Perhaps he needed a sign; one that said that any suggestion of further intimacy was alright. "I thought I was home." you answered, "Don't you want me to stay?"

Scratching the back of his neck, he nodded. "Yes, I-I-I-I do."

"Then it's settled. We'll have a big sleepover," you brightened. "and it'll never have to end. I'll borrow a pair of your pj's and hog all the blankets because I'll get cold."

"And in - in the morning," he added warmly, "w-we can have pancakes."

"Yeah, and watch enough interdimensional cable to make us go blind."

"But I-I might have to work tomorrow."

"Oh. Well, then I guess I'll just have to eat all your snacks until you come back. We might have to take a trip to Costco at some point because they sell these mushroom crisps that are to die for."

Standing under the persimmon tree, he stepped forward and gave your shoulder a squeeze. "Y-you can have whatever you want," With a strong arm slipping around your waist, you felt almost shy at the way he smiled protectingly down at you. His warm breath ghosted about your ear, and his voice was above a whisper as he confessed. “because I-I-I finally got you princess and I'm not - I'm not going t-to let you go.”

At the sound of this pet name, you felt a slight warmth rush to your cheeks, but you didn't laugh it off as you had once but agreed with warmth. “You may do as you please, Mr. Sanchez.”

And so he did. Without hesitation, he lifted your chin and brushed your lips with his thumb. His eyes sparkling with humor, promise, and a confidence that was somehow so very appropriate on his face. "I love you. I-I-I always have. From the time I first held your hand, I knew it had to be you. I would've been a fool if I - if I hadn't tried. Even now, it's hard to believe, but it's starting to sink in."

"Me too. It's unbelievable, but it's true and we have the paperwork to prove it."

Leaning down, he pressed a sweet kiss onto your lips. It was so gentle, it was as though you might break if he tried otherwise. Kissing you again, he sighed against your lips. "It's beautiful out t-tonight."

"It is."

Pressing a hand to his cheek, you softened. "But I think I'm ready to call it a night. Why don't we go in?"

Weaving his fingers with yours, he softened. "Okay."

You used to think to yourself and wonder if his house would ever be ready to receive you, but what you now realized was that it had always been ready, and only you had been waiting for it all to catch up; for him to know what he wanted and to be courageous and say; for you to know what you needed, and to accept that being yourself didn't make you any less attractive or unique and that you weren't alone; you had never been alone, for he had always been waiting. His home, why it was always home, but it was always home because he was what grounded you and you were what grounded him. And you felt so married to him then, and everything felt as it should. Nothing had really changed, except for a title, and a promise; for you two were friends as you had always been; him the happy go lucky old man, and you the silly neighbor who met him by accident, but you couldn't deny that you loved him with your entire being and so did he. As promised, he intended to do everything in his power to protect you, even as you two were getting ready for bed. His body seemed to curl around you as to shield you from whatever monsters could be hiding in the dark.

So, when it happened that you rested your head upon his chest and felt the temptation of sleep washing over you, you pressed a light kiss to his cheek and confessed softly. "I can't wait to wake up next to you."

Fin

[gothamhell]

Questions

AO3 Link

Dick Grayson, age 12, was staring in absolute shock and horror at Nightwing, his future self. Really, most of the (young, oh so young) Teen Titans were, the older versions of themselves not even phased in the slightest. If anything, a couple of them were trying to hold back laughter at the reactions of their younger selves.

“What?” Nightwing asked, arching an eyebrow under his domino, “What did I say?”

“You just dropped an F-Bomb!” Younger Dick (Still-Robin Dick) said, throwing his hands up in the air as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. “You dropped an F-Bomb in our base! In front of us kids!”

“Oh. Whoops.”

“Whoops?! Now I know you can’t be me! I’d never drop an F-Bomb! Speedy might--”

“Hey!”

“But never me!”

“Listen kiddo,” Roy, No-Longer-Speedy Roy, stepped forward with a placating hand gesture, “Things change. We’re all adults now--”

“Even if some of us don’t always act like it...” Donna chimed in.

“We’ve all done our fair share of swearing. In fact, it’s gotten to the point where some of us have swear jars at the various team bases.”

“Like the one we have with Ollie?” Speedy asked quietly, cautiously. He still hadn’t quite put away his bow, still nocked with an arrow.  Roy stiffened, but didn’t otherwise react negatively. Not while the kids were there.

“Yeah,” He said, his voice a bit more dry than it had been before, “Like with him.”

“Shouldn’t we be more worried about that fact that we’re currently talking to our future selves,” Aqualad asked, earning a supportive nod from his older self, “Especially since none of them-- Us? Seem to remember it?”

“We’ll get to that in a sec, Garth,” Younger Wally assured, “But first, I gotta know: How cool is the future?”

“We can’t ask questions about the future!” Wondergirl berated her teammate, “It could destroy it! Although, I am wondering: Do we ever get a boyfriend?”

Okay, this was going from bad to worse way too quickly. Nightwing exchanged a serious look with his younger self (an action that made his sentimental heart ache) and they stepped away from the others, who were trying to keep the peace amongst themselves with varying degrees of success. They accessed the main computer, Nightwing easily bypassing Bruce’s security as Robin watched with wide eyes. Dick realized it’d be about a year before he could do that, probably.

“Alright, sent the signal to the Batcave,” Nightwing said, “Hopefully we can get things under control before the timeline gets thoroughly... Messed up.”

“You were gonna drop another F-Bomb, weren’t you?”

“Habit. Sorry.”

“It’s fine,” Robin said quietly, adding with a whisper, “Don’t tell anyone, but sometimes I swear too. I don’t even put money in the jar. Of course, nobody’s around, usually, but still, I do it.”

Dick knew that. He really had be swearing since he was nine, mostly to make the kids that came to the circus laugh and think he was cool and mature, but he toned it down after becoming Robin. He was a role-model, a hero, and he had taken it very seriously. As he got older, though, well, it was much more cathartic to drop a nasty string of curses after stubbing his toe than saying something like “Holy Wooden Tables, that sure did hurt! Golly gee gosh!”.

“So...” Robin began, twisting around in one of the other rolling chairs, “You really don’t remember coming to the past?”

“Nope,” Nightwing replied, fiddling with the battery pack for his escrima sticks, “Probably one of those time masters or whatever wiped our memories of it. Or, your memories, I guess. God, I hate time travel.”

“So, I could ask you questions? And it wouldn’t disrupt the time-stream?”

Nightwing blinked. That was a fair point. He could literally say anything to his younger self, anything, and it would be okay. He used to have a whole list of things he wanted to say, but at that moment, he couldn’t think of any of them.

“Yeah,” Nightwing said after swallowing nothing, “I guess you could. Ask away, boy wonder.”

“The Titans. I know we-- You were working together when you got pulled to the past, but... Do the Teen Titans--”

“Split up?” Nightwing finished, and Robin, brave, lonely Robin, nodded. Nightwing sighed. “Yeah, we... We do. Sorta. The original team splits up, most of us to go on our paths, find our own way. We keep in touch, though. Sorta. It’s been hectic.”

“Oh.” Robin’s voice was quiet, and Dick understood why. For a long time, aside from Batman (and even then, rarely him), he really felt like he only had the Titans. Sure, he had friends at school, but none of them knew about Robin, about being a hero, and the Teen Titans, well... They knew Robin and Dick Grayson, not just one or the other. 

Hearing that he’s gonna lose that... It would’ve devastated him, and it wasn’t even the worst thing that was going to happen to him.

“Do we still work with Bruce?” Robin finally asked, his voice stronger, determined to get through all the questions in his head. Nightwing let out a soft laugh.

“Sometimes. We mostly deal with our city,  Blüdhaven--” Nightwing barely held back a laugh when Robin made a face. “Hey! It’s not that bad. Better than Hub City.”

“Yeah, I guess... But, why did we leave Gotham? Why did we leave Batman and Robin and become Nightwing?”

“That’s... Complicated.”

“Then make it not be.”

Nightwing sat back in his chair and sighed. He wasn’t sure he could uncomplicate it, even years later, but he had to try. For Robin. For the young boy he used to be.

“We... Bruce tried, is trying, his best to be our parent and Batman, but he’s not very good at it. Half the time he’s distant, half the time he’s smothering us, and it only got worse as we got older. We had to get away, learn to be our own person, our own hero. Without Batman.”

“And without the Titans?”

“I... Yeah,” Nightwing said quietly, the half-lie tasted bitter on his tongue, “And without the Titans.”

“... We didn’t want to split up, did we?”

“Yes. No. Both? We-- We knew we had to. We were all getting older, we couldn’t be the Teen Titans anymore, but at the same time...”

“Yeah.” Robin said quietly. “I get it.”

In that moment, more than anything, Dick wanted to look his younger self in the eye and tell him that it was going to suck. That the Rogues and The Antithesis wasn’t the only major problems he was going to come across, that sometimes, even in a room full of people who loved him, he was going to feel so, so alone. He wanted to tell him about Jason and Tim and the new Titans. He wanted to tell him about how life was going to throw everything it had at him until it got hard to even get out of bed sometimes, but that he had to keep going, because people depend on him, hero and civilian alike. 

But he didn’t. He didn’t have to. Dick knew that Robin knew all that already. He had always known, in some small way. It didn’t make it any easier to face, though.

“Hey bird-brains!” Older Roy’s voice cut through the heavy atmosphere, “Batman’s here! Says he and Rip Hunter are gonna help us get home, c’mon!”

Nightwing and Robin looked at each other, and they both smiled in understanding.

“Make sure you pay the swear jar before you leave.” Robin said, getting up to rejoin the others, and Nightwing couldn’t help but laugh, even as he fished the five-dollar bill out of his hidden pocket.