#couldn't get a high res image for the second one sorry

[curapicas]

labru be like "what if we spend the rest of our lives taking turns in infodumping and being unnerved by each other's special interests"

[biblio-smia]

in full bloom [mike schmidt x reader]

summary: mike learns to love like you do.

flower shop owner & gn reader x mike schmidt

requests for mike are open!

the bell above the door chimed a sweet tune, an even sweeter smile spreading on your face once your eyes landed on your shop's newest visitor.

"welcome in," your voice held back a light laugh, a glint in your eyes as they watched mike get overwhelmed with all the different floral scents filling your shop.

"hi," mike smiled as he made his way up to the front, stopping just before you. his arms slid forward on the counter, your hands finding a spot on his. mike's face flushed, his body tensing slightly before relaxing. "sorry," mike muttered, looking down in an attempt to hide the growing blush on his face.

"that's okay." your hand left mike's warm one and settled on his face, fingers lightly trailing over his growing stubble and under his dark circles. mike's eyes blinked quickly as he leaned into your touch and you couldn't help but grin. gosh, he was pretty.

mike swallowed thickly as you leaned forward slowly, his eyes fluttering until they finally shut, anticipating the feeling of you against him.

the door bell chimed again and the warmth of you against mike was stripped from him instantly.

"welcome in!" you called cheerily, watching as a younger, high-school-aged boy stumble around without a clue. mike rubbed his face against his palm, trying to wipe the flush from his cheeks. "i should go help him," you motioned over to your newest potential customer. "he looks a little lost."

"yeah, i know that feeling." mike smiled, stepping back to give you space to step out from behind the counter.

"i'll see you tonight?" you asked quietly, eyes pausing their back-and-forth from the boy and mike to just mike. mike could feel his face warm up just from the way you looked at him, soft and full of a feeling he was too scared to name. mike's first instinct was to look down, unable to handle all the feelings that threatened to erupt with just one look from you.

"8:30 on the dot," mike promised, managing one final look at you and the all-too loving look in your eye that made his heart do something strange in his chest.

that final smile you sent him was the final blow to his fragile state, sending him out the door stumbling over his own feet and unable to think of anything other than you for the entirety of his shift.

「 … 」

mike pulled into the driveway, next to your not-so-temporarily-parked car, the gravel crunching loudly under his tires. a quick, unwilling glance at the gas meter elicits a sigh from mike as he turns the key in the ignition and the car sputters into silence.

mike grabs his bag from the passenger side that was unofficially designated yours when you rode with him, grabbing its strap and slinging it over his shoulder as he got out of the car in one quick motion. mike was eager to get home, especially with the image of you waiting for him on the couch in the back of his mind all day.

mike entered quietly, listening for your whereabouts and smiling once he identified the laughter coming from abby's room. mike's keys clinked as he made sure to lock the door (and triple-checked it), hanging his keys up for tomorrow.

mike didn't even have a chance to announce his arrival before the laughter got louder and you appeared into the hallway with a wild-looking abby on your back.

"hi!" abby squealed from her position, springing into the air for just a second while you re-positioned her.

"hi," mike greeted with a grin as you greeted him with a soft kiss on the cheek, abby's displeasure clear with the gagging sounds she made from her spot.

mike rolled his eyes and reached up to accommodate for abby's newfound height, ruffling her already messy hair. "shouldn't you be in bed by now?" mike asked as he bent over to untie his shoes before he tracked any dirt inside.

"nuh-uh," abby said smugly, voice a little muffled as she rested her face against your shoulder. "it's not 8:30 yet."

mike looked up from his shoe to the clock, only to see that abby was right.

"someone was eager to get home," you teased, laying a gentle hand on mike's shoulder as he worked on his left shoe. there was a chance he took his time undoing the laces, relishing in the feeling of the soothing motions of your fingers.

"long day today," mike lied, not able to recall a single detail about his day, hoping you wouldn't ask any questions about it that he wouldn't be able to answer.

"what'd you have for dinner tonight, abs?" mike asked as the three of you made your way back towards abby's room, a hand patting abby's back gently.

"spaghetti and ravioli," abby answered happily, stomach full and eyelids already starting to feel droopy. "it was really good."

"oh, really?" mike inquired, his hand dropping slightly to rest on your back.

"well, i'm glad you liked it," you grinned, bending down to let abby fall on her bed with a soft umph! and a giggle. abby always told you her favorite parts about your piggyback rides were the landings.

"okay, time to sleep now." mike pulled abby's comforter up to just below her chin, smoothing out her disheveled hair as best he could without a hairbrush.

"i'm not even tired!" abby argued through a yawn that made you and mike exchange amused glances.

"hey, the sooner you go to sleep, the sooner you'll get to eat french toast tomorrow for breakfast!" you bribed from behind mike.

"with lots of sugar?" abby asked with wide eyes despite herself.

you held a finger up to your lips, which mike caught and abby giggled at.

"sleep," you whispered, placing a kiss on abby's cheek before mike placed his own on abby's forehead.

"goodnight, abs. love you," mike called on his way out of the room with you in close pursuit.

"goodnight! love you too!" abby called through another yawn, her eyes closing the second mike killed the lights and shut the door, the bar of yellow light seeping out from under it not being enough to keep her conscious.

you turned your attention back to mike now, unable to properly greet him earlier with abby on your back (literally).

your arms wrapped around mike's neck, his body radiating warmth and a scent of cologne you'd been missing all day. your lips found his slightly chapped ones, finally pressing a soft kiss to them as your fingers toyed with the curls at the base of mike's neck.

"need a haircut," mike mumbled as he held you against his chest, not quite willing to let you go just yet. you could feel the warmth of his cheeks against your shoulder and you tried not to laugh.

you hummed a reply, knowing mike wasn't really just thinking of a haircut right now. you knew how hyper-aware he became as soon as any part of you landed on him. he had been worse at reciprocating it all; just a few months ago, mike would break down completely, unable to form a coherent sentence from just a touch on the shoulder from you. you didn't need abby to tell you he had feelings for you.

you also didn't need an expert to tell you mike schmidt was touch-starved.

you went out of your way to touch mike whenever you could, even now that you were dating. physical affection with mike was easy for you, fingers scratching lightly at his scalp and lips making a gentle path on his shoulder.

you could feel mike's tension release as his body relaxed against yours. he used to apologize a lot more, sorry for the way he awkwardly stiffened up sometimes, grateful for all the patience you had for him and his inability to function regularly the second he felt your skin against his.

he didn’t have to apologize, you always reminded him. he was cute when he was flustered.

mike wasn’t sure how long the two of you stayed like that, breathing in each other’s scent, only interrupted when you created distance between you and mike. your hands fell from around his neck to his shoulders, a smile on your face at the feeling of mike's hands resting on your hips.

"i saved you some pasta," you said quietly, hands running up and down mike's biceps. mike hummed, leaning in so close his stubble tickled your neck.

"thank you." he whispered, pressing a shy, quick kiss to your cheek.

mike was always bolder when he was tired.

"come on," you mumbled with a smile, your hand grabbing mike's as you dragged him towards the kitchen. you'd eaten a little earlier, with abby, only because she refused to eat if you didn't, too. but you liked to reserve a spot in your stomach for dinner with mike.

the two of you worked the nightly routine well: mike placing a hand on your back while he passed behind you to grab plates, you heating up tonight's dinner and pouring drinks to accompany it. though you lacked official residence in the schmidt home, a picture of it would be incomplete with you in it.

you told mike about your and abby's day quietly. you'd forced mike to quit apologizing for always asking you to watch her a long time ago, the uneasiness of asking you the favor settling over time as mike realized spending time with abby was nothing like a job for you.

it was mike's turn to talk now, but since he couldn't recall anything about his day through his love-sick daze, he spun the subject back on you: how did it go with that boy in the flower shop?

"he reminded me of you," you teased before giving mike the details.

mike rolled his eyes as if he hadn't thought the same thing. he also wondered if you really would've kissed him if you'd had a few more seconds to yourselves, the thought making the tips of his ears turn bright red.

mike laughed when you poked fun at your clueless customer, knowing he wouldn't have been able to do any better. mike couldn't even ask you out without tripping over his words so badly he had to try twice to get them out coherently.

once the two of you were done eating, mike scooped the dirty dishes up to start washing; a chore he didn't particularly like but knew you hated.

"i missed you a lot today," mike admitted, easier now with his back towards you.

"oh?"

"i couldn't stop thinking about you all day." it seemed the blush he sported would be permanent whenever he was around you. "i don't even remember clocking out."

your laughter came closer than mike measured you being, his theory that you were on your way to him proved right when he felt arms wrap around his waist and a weight against his back. mike knew to relax now, carefully rinsing off the soap suds of the last cup before shutting off the faucet and drying his hands.

mike doesn't want you to let go but you do, hands almost instantly on his hips the second he turns around.

there isn't anything stopping you from leaving now, from mike having to stand by the window and watch you in your car pull away. he's at risk of losing you as soon as he has you.

"do you wanna... stay the night?" mike stammers out fearfully, his eyes focused on his socks.

"i don't have clothes for tomorrow." you say softly without any real argument in your voice.

"wear some of mine?" mike forces his eyes to settle on you and his lips stretch into an awkward half-smile, his head tilting and his tired eyes looking at you hopefully.

"okay," you agree with a nod and mike feels as though he could run a marathon. "go shower." you press a kiss to mike's cheek, sending him giddily on his way while you finish cleaning up.

you wait for mike in his unmade bed, sat up in anticipation. mike breaks a record for quickest shower ever taken, walking in with a slightly damp mess of curls on his head and a fresh pair of pajamas on. you're wearing one of his shirts.

mike takes a seat next to you, crossing his legs and nervously picking at a loose thread on his pants. mike's hand is on his knee, and his knee is bumping yours, and that's making his head spin. everything is on the brink of being too much when your hand comes up to rest on top of his and mike cannot restrain himself anymore.

he falls back into the pillows, taking you with him. it's a natural progression: your legs tangle, mike throws an arm around you, his head finds a place on your shoulder. your fingers run through mike's hair, the cool sensation a stark contrast from the heat you two radiate.

you fear mike has forgotten something when he shoots up urgently and not unusually. you wait for his wild eyes to land on you and remember. but instead of speaking, mike does something that is out of the ordinary: he cups your face, muttering something that sounds strangely like a "thank you" before he leans in, carefully mapping out his destination of your lips in the dark with his fingertips, and kisses you.

[ecrivainalene]

Leviathan Panel at Otakon 2024

I was OVERJOYED to be at the Leviathan panel during Otakon 2024! I'll do my best to recap it below, but if you want a more coherent play by play, this Twitter user did an excellent job.

I've got a handful of photos, recap of Sharp Gender Discussion, plus misc. things I remember.

Not everyone was up for the entire time, but I snapped this photo near the end when everyone was on stage! From left to right: Waki Kiyotaka (Studio Orange), Yoshihiro Watanabe (Studio Orange), Scott Westerfeld, Christophe Ferreira (Quibic Pictures), Justin Leach (Quibic Pictures), Katrina Minett (Quibic Pictures), and Diana Garnet (ending theme vocalist).

New concept art! Looks like Dr. Barlow, Klopp, Alek, and Sharp, right before the Germans attack the Leviathan.

More under the cut!

Alternative shot of that art bc I couldn't get my lighting right:

Clanker and Darwinist technology designs. Watanave explained that Studio Orange's early days were spent doing contract work on Gundam anime, so I can't wait to see how that translates to the Clanker machines.

Some more concept art:

By the way, the entire series is being adapted at once - so we'll get the complete story at once! That in mind, the second image here makes me think of that maneuver near the beginning of Goliath to pick up the cargo.

Sharp!!! Look at them!!!

I don't have much to say about these but I'm fairly sure I hadn't seen them before. I am wondering if they downsized Alek's crew for the sake of the story, or perhaps we just haven't seem Bauer and Hoffman yet.

We got some new character art! The panel was very cryptic about who the character designer is. Apparently they're pretty well known, but they can't share it yet!

Volger I am so sorry your photo was unfocused. Forgive me.

The panel jokingly described him as "Alek's dad," which feels accurate. And maybe I misunderstood, but it sounds like he plays an even more important role in the anime than he does in the books. I've always considered Volger to be a pretty important character, so I wonder what else he'll do in this new series.

Klopp looks exactly like how I pictured him in my mind!! They said if Volger is Alek's dad, then Klopp is like his mom. Which is very fair but also made me laugh a lot.

Dr. Barlow!! She looks amazing. There was a lot of talk about the dynamic between her and Volger and how they're often playing mental chess games with each other. I'm really glad they're leaning into that dynamic.

And one more concept art:

This looks like the visit to Istanbul, which I'm desperately hoping means we'll see my favorite chaotic bisexual, Lilit.

That's all of the photos I have! They also showed us a preview of the show plus a live performance of the ending song with Diana Garnet. No video recording was allowed and I don't break rules, but believe me when I tell you it was stunning. The world feels so full of life and adventure and I can't wait to see the final show.

Tbh I was too busy holding back tears of joy but one thing I remember distinctly is there's a shot of Sharp getting ready for the day, and we see a sheet of paper with a bunch of names written and crossed out before finally (I think) "Dylan" is circled.

Which actually brings me to the Q&A part. TLDR, between the use of "Sharp" for Deryn's name, Scott referring to Sharp as "she/he/they" during the panel, and the scene I mentioned earlier, I feel really hopeful about how they're approaching Deryn's gender and identity in this adaptation.

I asked a question about this at the Q&A and voice recorded it, so I'll try to transcribe it here as best I can because the audio is not great lol. I stumbled through my question so I trimmed it down here but I'll transcribe the response as clearly as I can!

Me: I just finished re-reading [the series] for the first time since I was probably in high school, and one of the things that interests me about this adaptation is the approach to Sharp's character... I guess I'm just interested, like, was there a lot of thought put behind, or what kind of thought was put behind how to approach their character in the anime, I guess as a chance to re-approach the story however many years after it was originally written.

Scott Westerfeld: Yeah, there's a lot to that. The "girl dressing as a boy" as a trope was something completely different in 2007 when I started writing this than it is now. And so we really approached Deryn's identity as what was at stake rather than just... rather than just her being in disguise, it's about their recreating themselves and becoming a different person and transitioning and, and so... but it's always been interesting to me that the words that I wrote back in 2009, 10, 11, y'know, as an old guy who grew up in Texas in the 70s - who was David Bowie fan! - but otherwise didn't have a lot of access into issues of gender, I'm amazed at how many people have been [able to?] adopt Deryn/Dylan as one of their own. I just got an email a week ago from a trans boy whose chosen name is Dylan. So it is amazing to me how whatever imperfections or whatever problematics there are in the text, people still find their way into what they need from a character. And as a writer, I can say that I always respected that character, I always respected their choices, I always respected who they were. I never tried to stick them into a dress and have everyone go "Ooh now you're pretty 'because 'cause you're in dress!" We didn't do that, and I think that what may be important for people and I think that's why it's still what's gonna work here, but it's been fun to be able to update it and everybody on the team's been really great about understanding that.

TLDR I don't want to get anyone's hopes up too high, but I'm really appreciative of the care that's being taken with Sharp's story and identity in this adaptation. It seems like Scott and the others on the team are taking that into account, and I'm excited to see how it plays out.

Other random things I remember:

THERE WAS AN ALEK COSPLAYER. I took a photo with them but I won't post it without their consent. Just trust that they looked fantastic.

Scott said one of the first things he was told was that Alek can't actually kill Nikola Tesla because he's too well loved by people in Japan, which I think is the funniest possible reason for a change to be made in an adaptation.

Diana Garnet (they/any) mentioned how much they love Sharp (don't we all) and also how they used to work at a Barnes and Noble and remembers selling lots of Westerfeld books!

Scott said his approach in writing Leviathan was taking everything he'd always wanted to write about and basically throwing it together, because he was just coming off of the success of Uglies and figured he could get away with it.

If I remember anything else I'll add on to this post! Overall, it was a wonderful panel and I'm incredibly excited for this project.

[revalition]

OCT 11 - AUTHORITY Intimidate the public. Assert yourself. authority!! my guy! I love *and* hate him very much! he's such a guy.

this is late because I spent too much time yesterday writing about him and not enough time drawing him. oops. that's also why it's so ugly but it's okay. someday I'll draw something good and you'll all be very impressed. we'll see if I can get EdC in today too or not!

and ty red for giving me your authority's wings haha, theyre soo cool. ough I love wings. if someone sent me an ask saying "draw [skill] with wings" I would be all over that so fasttt

anyway! lots of content under the cut as usual!

authority quotes!

anti sorry cop authority!! harry desperately needs someone to tell him to stop apologizing for existing... but in the second case, volition is right (as usual)

a wonderful classic here

gotta include these ofc

authority NO.

this line is just. how I image he is constantly. the millisecond your authority is questioned in the slightest he gets like this.

re. arresting klaasje

authority stopping you from being very embarrassing!

NO. no authority. there's SO many lines like this. sigh

authority seems to be a nearly perfect 50/50 split of good advice and bad advice. it's great. it's fascinating

authority and volition. authority and volitionnn. you are going to hear about the motor carriage story and there's no getting off.

rare sweet authority moment! (this heals morale too!)

realllly love this one too <3

authority, cmon man...

this guy. this guy... he's so... I don't know. he's sure something

authority CONFIRMED COMPROMISED. also authority being mean to soft little suggestion is always very funny to me

he is compromised though

hghhk this line from the authority fail. you get after failing *four* times. my first playthrough I had high authority - I had 6 PSY to start, and authority boosting clothes. and I just kept failing and failing. and every time I failed this check I had to dump another point into authority to try it again... so it was *really* high by the end! but I just kept failing it!! it was so painful... by the fourth fail you can finally beg kim to take over...

on the topic of awful authority fails! we need to acknowledge: - the authority check to get kim to dance - the authority check to save kim from getting shot - the authority check to make acele wear the hat

including it so we can enjoy authority making things worse and worse

alternatively, succeeding the check. eugh. (you dont have to kick the snow. but the fact that it's an option at all...)

I passed the check my first playthrough and failed it my second. there's really no good outcome to clicking it... except harry can get a good cry out of the fail, I guess

this seems like a good place to include the mandatory sad dream dialogue. that way we feel less bad for him since we got to just see him being stupid

now we know! tobacco wards off narco spirits, and alcohol discourages use of... narcohol. wonderful!

you know it's bad when it's too much even for authority haha

authority giving better advice than volition one time??? this is if you have cuno at the end, when you meet up with your posse. persisting with insisting on the phasmid isn't productive at all

live authority reaction to harry being told no to anything ever

low stakes authority fail haha

here's another one! not all authority fails are world-endingly bad

another one. sigh. authority. NO.

and there is soo much honour points dialogue I couldn't fit in here! the first time I got the honour cop thought bubble I was like, wow! I'm never listening to anything this skill says ever again!

the thought gives you -4 !!!! to drama! because lying is dishonourable. and then if you lie to kim about what you were doing he tells you it was an honourable lie. hypocrite. (and there is a dialogue where he says "Are you going to let him get away with being a hypocrite?" so that really makes auth a double hypocrite)

I love and hate authority in perfectly equal amounts. they don't cancel eachother out either, I just feel very strongly about him instead. I also feel very strongly about Volition, and their interactions are always fascinating. so I end up smushing them together, going fight! (and kiss!) and fight! like the extremely normal person I am. yep. you're welcome.

I could probably write half an essay my thoughts on their dynamic so I'm going to stop myself now before I have regrets :)

authority is in my favourite skills list for sure, but due to his serious personality issues I can't figure out where he places <3

[these-are-the-first-steps]

Here’s a random reylo ask for ya- did you ever have any theories/HCs early on in shipping reylo (cuz I believe you’ve said you were shipping since TFA) which you didn’t end up being into as much, or at all anymore as TST progressed?

Hello! Sorry it's taken me so long to get to this.

Story Time

So I saw TFA the second day it came out. I left rather bewildered- one, because a new actor I'd never seen before in my life (adam driver) gave such an unorthodox performance I couldn't stop thinking "The fuck does this guy think he's doing???" namely the interrogation scene where I don't think any other actor would have, nor could have, played it the way he did. I'm still shocked by the choices he made with his line delivery in that scene but in the best way possible. It's hard to explain. Anyway, that's one. Two also goes back to that scene. In middle school, back with Tokyo Pop was big, they held their very first manga contest for us regular american people to try our hand at Japanese style manga. Well, I felt like I could write, and my good friend at the time (she still is- we keep in touch!) could draw like a crazy person. So we decided to try for it. The only problem was, being middle schoolers, motivation and scheduling wasn't our forte. I did manage to write a short script excerpt of a story that had been brewing in my head for awhile at the time, and while I think I did eventually hand it over to her (I was suffering from perfectionism), the art never happened. We tried again in high school but then high school angst got in the way and it still didn't happen. Regardless, I still now had the only real concrete piece of writing for this story I had been sitting on for a couple years now.

Eventually....well, time moved on.

Cue "Star Wars: The Force Awakens", a sequel film I was INCREDIBLY skeptical about. I'd been watching star wars my entire life. My dad took me as a little kid to the big deal re-screenings of the original trilogy they did nationwide before the prequels came out. I had a lot of Opinions on this movie series. I had just moved to NYC and was out for a walk when I passed by Bloomingdales and saw, a bit to my shock, that their store windows were full of (allegedly) screen-used costumes and props from the upcoming TFA movie. I crept closer, had a look. Han Solo was the only thing I recognized. The rest? Unfamiliar. Alien. I had seen zero promotional images for this movie before encountering these windows and had only heard some things. I made guesses as to what everything was, before rounding the corner and being confronted with an irrationally tall costume. "Oh, is this the darth vader rip-off? lmao" (the only thing I had concretely heard about). "This guy had to be on stilts surely??" Kylo Ren. Funny at first, but the longer I stared at it, I shit you not, the more unsettled I got. I actually got *scared* staring at this costume. I took one very poor, very shaky picture, and basically ran away. (I regret not taking a better photo but oh well). I run into an article the next day at work about the movie and it happens to have the trailer and I decide, sure, ok, I'll give it a watch. Those windows were interesting at least. I basically had my tickets bought by the end of the day. So here we are, back to the theatre, sitting here as this audacious actor delivers the most ballsy performance I've seen the whole film as he interrogates the heroine, and I listen to what he's saying, and then, it hits me.

This. Is my story. These are my lines. I wrote this exact same exchange in middle school.

What the fuck??

This meant a lot of things to me. This meant that I knew where this story was going, and where it was going I liked very much. I went back to see the movie again a second time about a week or two later. I had to be sure-- I wasn't just imposing what was already inside my brain all these years onto a totally different story on the screen, was I? I watched, and waited. And sure enough....no, no it had to be it. These two? I know exactly how this is going to go down.

A few months later I visited back home and even managed to dig through a box and find my old script. I read through it, sort of shaking a little. My heroine- Light- had also been captured- by the Dark- and the song and dance were the same- Where am I? Does it matter? I can see everything. I'm not giving you anything. A summary, and as some years have passed again I have lost the print out in a box again, but some of the dialogue was ver batum.

I knew exactly where this new star wars story was going because I already wrote the damn thing in middle school, word for word, and if you thought for one second I wasn't going to tune in and defend this arc, that I never managed to get published myself at 13, with swords and shields and knives for my own personal middle school catharsis then you were dead wrong, my friend.

This may have seemed like a very round-about way of answering this question, but I wanted to give context, substance, because all of this ^^^^^ up here? It defines, explicitly, why I'm even here to begin with, and why I fought so hard from day one. There was nothing to abandon, or question, or shed. Because I already knew this story by heart. I had already written it!! And I still think ants and DLF and JJ Abrams and Terrio and the rest of those bastards can pry it from my cold dead hands, because truly they butchered my baby and while I may live with that, I'll never forget it.

Thank you for the ask, friend.

[bumblesimagines]

Green Thumb

Part 15

Request: Yes or No

Nebula and Tonys friendship was v cute and we deserved to see Tony be a dad to her. This feels v short so I'm sorry

~

"Maybe some company will do you good, (Y/N)." Natasha said softly, rubbing your arm. You stayed silent, staring at the table. Rhodes had offered you your old room back but you couldn't give him an answer. Your gaze shifted to the glass of water, brows furrowing when the water in the glass began to move. Natasha followed your gaze.

"I'm not doing that." You said softly, glancing at her. Steve entered the room, heading towards the exit.

"Something's coming." He called. Rhodes and Bruce quickly followed him out. You stood up, doing the same. You walked out onto the field, seeing Pepper staring up at a ship. You watched the woman set it down, looking back at you all. Steve ran forward, helping Tony off the ship. Pepper sobbed, running forward as well. You turned, walking back towards the facility.

"Great, the douchebag survived." You muttered, opening the door and sitting back down. You knew loss would come with trying to save the world but you didn't expect to lose everyone you loved. Clint and Natasha were still around but they were grieving as well.

"(Y/N), this is Carol Danvers, a friend of Fury." Natasha said as she entered the room. You turned to look at the blonde, giving a small nod. You watched as Rhodes pulled up images of everyone who had been lost to catch Tony up. Your gaze dropped onto the table when you saw your friends images appear.

"World governments are in pieces. He did.. He did exactly what he was planning to do. He wiped out.. 50 percent of all living creatures." Natasha explained, voices getting softer. You took in a shakey breath, sitting up and glancing at everyone. You made eye contact with Tony. He was skinny and weak but he held sadness in his eyes.

"Is Barton..?" Tony trailed off.

"Clint survived... Laura and the kids are gone." You told him, voice threatening to crack. Tony inhaled deeply, nodding.

"Where is Thanos? Where is he now?" Tony asked, looking at Steve. Steve frowned.

"We don't know. He just.. Opened a portal and walked through." Steve said, staring down at the floor. Tony hummed, turning to look at Thor.

"What's wrong with him?"

"He's pissed. He thinks he failed. Which, yeah he did but so did the rest of us." The talking raccoon, Rocket, said. You didn't have enough energy to question how a raccoon ended up in space, much less question how it could talk.

"Honestly, until this exact last second, I thought you were a build-a-bear." Tony said, looking at him.

"Maybe I am." Rocket muttered in a tired and defeated tone.

"Thanos has been missing for three weeks now. We've got nothing. Tony, you fought him."

"Who told you that? No, he wiped my face with a planet while the magician gave away the stone. That's what happened. There was no fight-"

"Okay, okay.. Did he give you any clues?" Steve asked. Tony blew some raspberries, shrugging. You sighed at his childish response.

"I had a vision. I didn't want to believe it.. Thought I was dreaming-"

"Tony, I need you to focus."

"-And I needed you. As in past tense. That trumps what you need. You know what I need?" Tony knocked over some glasses, standing up from his wheelchair. "I need to shave."

"Tony, Tony, stop." Rhodes approached him as Tony ripped off his IV needle.

"What we needed was a suit of armour around the world! Remember that? Whether it impacted our precious freedoms or not." Tony looked over everyone.

"Your project got Sokovia destroyed and ruined." You reminded him, finger running over the rim of the glass cup. Tony began stumbling as he argued with Steve, stumbling towards him. He ripped off the Arc reactor, putting it in Steve's hand before falling to the ground. He fainted afterwards so Rhodes and Steve got him to the medical unit.

"This is such a shitshow. I'm going home." You said, standing up and picking up the glass. Natasha turned towards you.

"Stay for a little longer-"

"For what? So I can be told nothing's gonna bring back by family? My best friends? I had nothing then I had something and now I have nothing again." You flinched when the cup shattered, pieces of glass and water landing on the ground. You sighed softly, taking the shards stuck in your skin out.

"Sorry. I'll clean this up." You mumbled, using your other hand to get the water off the floor. Carol blinked, watching in surprise. You opened one of the cabinets, pulling out the first aid kit. You turned your head when Carol stood beside you.

"Hey." You breathed out, running your hand under water to wash away some of the blood. Carol picked up the antibiotic cream, using a cotton ball to dab it onto your cuts. You didn't really feel like healing yourself.

"I'm sorry you lost so many people." She said quietly, picking up the bandages and wrapping them around your hand.

"Well, shit happens." You looked at your bandaged palm, sighing softly.

"I lost two best friends." Carol said, leaning against the counter.

"Nick and Monica, the daughter of a good friend." Carol looked at you, arms crossing.

"Sams' sister calls nonstop and I don't know what to tell her. She has two toddlers, both parents passed away, and she's a widow. How can I tell her that her older brother turned into dust and I couldn't do anything to save him? Dad and I can't even look at each other without noticing how empty the house feels. I wake up everyday hoping it was all a nightmare but then I don't hear Laura telling the kids to get up or Clint going on about teaching Lila archery." You looked away from her, eyes watering. Carol placed a gentle hand on your arm, giving it a light squeeze.

"You did what you could. What you have to do now is be there for the people who are still here. Your friends sister needs you. She needs someone familiar. Someone close to Sam and someone who was there in his last moments." Carol said, watching you.

"You'll never get back up if you keep knocking yourself down." She said softly. You let out a shakey sigh, nodding and sniffling. Carol offered you a napkin, patting your back before she walked away. You wiped away your tears and splashed some water on your face, patting your face dry. You turned and grabbed the broom and collector, taking care of the glass. You put the first aid kit away as Carol re-entered the room with Natasha and Steve following.

"Hey, we usually do things as a team here." Natasha said as Carol spun around to look at her.

"We realize up there is your territory but this is our fight too." Steve added.

"Do you even know where he is?" Rhodes asked, head tilting. Carol shrugged lightly.

"I know people who might."

"Don't bother." You looked at the blue android girl, Nebula.

"I can tell you where Thanos is." She revealed. The humans glanced at each other before gathering in the office to hear what she had to say. You leaned against the doorway, semi interested.

"Thanos spent a long time trying to perfect me. When he worked he talked about his great plan. Even disassembled I wanted to please him.. I'd ask where we would go once his plan was complete. His answer was always the same." Nebula turned her head to look at everyone. "To the garden."

"That's cute. Thanos has a retirement plan." Rhodes mumbled as Rocket climbed onto the table, making a hologram of Earth appear.

"When Thanos snapped his fingers, Earth became ground zero for ridiculously high cosmic proportions. Nobody's ever seen anything like it." Rocket said, making the hologram change to a different planet.

"Until two days ago on this planet." Rocket motioned to the planet shown. Nebula nodded, leaning forward.

"He used the stones again." Natasha whispered. Everyones attention shifted onto the planet.

"You can count me out. I have a therapy session soon." You called, turning around and walking down the steps.

"You go to therapy?" Rhodes asked, brows furrowing as he turned to face you.

"Yeah, it's called napping."

~~~~~~~~~~

You entered the house, taking in a deep breath. Neither you or Clint dared clean up the place. Everything was left exactly how it had been left after Thanos snapped his fingers. You entered the livingroom, gaze landing on the metal on the ground. You sighed softly, picking up the monitor. Clint had broken it. Clint not following the rules of his house arrest was probably the least of the governments problems. You tossed it onto the couch, walking to the kitchen and opening the fridge.

"Beer, beer, beer, leftovers, beer." You mumbled as you sorted through the fridge. You shut the fridge, looking at the drawings and pictures pinned to it with magnets. You swallowed, leaving the kitchen. You stepped over the Legos on the ground, going to the front door. You watched as Clint drew an arrow, shooting it at a target in the distance. All Clint did was practice. Probably to get his mind off things.

"Should I head into town for food?" You called out. Clint stayed silent so you took it as a no. You took out your phone, looking at the contact.

Sarah Wilson

You watched it ring, guilt creeping into your heart. You sighed, licking your lips and answering.

"Hello?"

"Oh, thank god! I've been trying to reach you for the past few weeks. I haven't heard anything yet about Sam and the others. How is Sam? Is he with you?"

"Sam.." You started, biting down on your lip as you shut your eyes. You let out a heavy sigh, taking a seat on the stairs.

"I should explain everything in person, Sarah. I'm not gonna make you wait until I get to Louisiana. Sam.. He, uh.. He didn't make it. I'm s-sorry." You sniffled, hearing a soft gasp leave Sarah.

"Oh, God.." She whispered.

"I-I'll stop by. I tell you everything but.. Sam.. Sam was a hero until the end." You said softly, hearing the kids in the background. You were relieved she wasn't completely alone.

"C-Could you just stay with me on the phone?" Sarah asked softly.

"Yeah, of course." You replied, answering her softly cry.

"What the hell am I gonna do now? Half the folks in town are gone and.." Sarah sniffled. You listened to her soft sniffles and sobs, sighing softly.

"I'm not gonna leave you, Sarah. Sam would have my head if I did." You smiled softly, hearing her chuckle.

"Thank you."

[broadstflyers]

A/N: Hello everyone! This is my first ever fic! It's really just an idea I've had for months, and then wrote, and then couldn't figure out which hockey boy it fit, until some mutuals were kind enough to help. I settled on our boy Barzy! It's inspired by Taylor Swift's "Gold Rush", and I really wanted to do my best in reflecting the beautiful imagery this story creates for me. I hope I did it justice. It's a little terrifying putting my writing out there, but I hope people enjoy it!

Word count: 3.4k

Warnings: Two curse words, it's really just internal conflict within the reader

Summary: You're celebrating your dad's 50th birthday with some friends and family at a dinner party. You happen to land your eyes on a beautiful stranger, who you can't seem to get out of your head. You spend the rest of the night wondering, should you go up to him?

Or do you let him walk out the door?

___________

They say when you first lay eyes on your soulmate, time stands completely still. As you gaze into their eyes, it feels as though you’ve known them for multiple lifetimes. It feels like home. Is that even remotely true?

You start to take a sip of your drink and turn your head slightly to take in your surroundings. Your eyes dance around the room, until they stumble upon another pair of wondering eyes. Your eyes lock, and you’re instantly sucked into the mysterious yet intriguing twinkling grey-blue color that compliments his navy blue suit. Suddenly, your breath hitches in your throat, every part of your body stiffens, except for your lips that part slightly and eyes that widen. The drink is long forgotten, you’re even struggling to keep it from practically falling out of your hands and onto the wooden floor. The party is now just a blur, the noise? What noise? The world is muffled, as if someone stuck your head into a hundred pillows. Images stream through your mind like an endless movie reel wrapped in shimmery gold. Endless laughter on a first date over coffee. Him rubbing the back of your hand as you take a stroll through the park. Holiday mornings, exchanging gifts. Would he participate in the tradition of opening small gifts first, or would he want the biggest gift right off the bat? Ice skating and him catching you as you stumble on a pesky track in the ice. Him tossing you into the pool while you’re trying to put up a fight in a losing battle. A sweet and quiet proposal where he promises his forever love. A kiss at the altar in front of all your friends and family. Chasing after rambunctious little kids trying to get them to nap. All these gold dripping images of a pure love plow through your brain. Your heart is the unmovable object. They are the unstoppable force.

You and him only shared a look for what was probably half a second, but the thick air that seemed to only be affecting you made time feel like it stood completely still.

You burst back into reality with the help of a slight head shake. “Woah,” you quietly whisper. You blink a few times and finally get around to taking a sip of your drink to quench your parched throat. Did you just see a whole future...with a stranger?

“Hey, are you okay?” Stella asks. Her hand gently touches your arm as she cocks her head to the side. Her brows are furrowed in what can only be described as pure confusion. Did you really space out that badly as she was talking? What were you guys even talking about?

“Oh,” you say as you gently shake your head, “yeah.” You chuckle, “yeah, I’m just fine.” You wait a beat then say, “Hey, I’m going to use the bathroom really quickly, okay?”

“Sure thing,” she nods. “Do you need me to come with?”

“I’m totally fine, I promise,” you reassure with every bone in your body while giving her your drink. You really just needed to be alone to calm your racing mind that has now turned a complete stranger into a romantic interest with the power of a golden montage.

You make your way over to the exit of the dining hall and push the creaky open with your shoulder, and the amount of force you had to use honestly hurt. Your heels click down the tiled hallway of the golf club to find the bathroom door. The rectangular bathroom mirror framed in an intricate gold design holds your reflection. You slightly tilt your head as you take a look at your face. It’s like someone took the color of a clown nose and colored in your face with it. Jeez. You shake your head and sigh. This isn’t good, and deep down, you know that. You hate when you’re like this, all flustered over someone who just happened to lock eyes with you. His eyes. They were gleaming and just all around beautiful. What were you thinking again?

Oh, right.

Well, it’s pretty obvious he has this power over you, and you don’t like that. Now is your face going to become red everytime you see him? You check your phone. There’s still two hours left, plenty of time to possibly see him again. You can’t tell if that’s necessarily a good or bad thing.

You pace around the bathroom trying to reason with your begging heart. He was pretty good looking, which means that so many people naturally want him. Who was he even talking to, anyways? You gasp and stop in your tracks, blood running cold. “He was talking to a girl,” you mumble. You’d be lying if you said you didn’t sound completely and utterly crushed. In the heat of the moment, you completely failed to realize the blonde standing next to him. You lean over the counter, the cold marble feeling on your arms making your arms break out in goosebumps. You take one last stern look in the mirror at your face. “See, this is why we can’t allow ourselves to fall that hard,” you whisper angrily, “everyone wants him, and I just...I don’t like a gold rush like that.” You shake your head again and take one last deep breath to shake out any other thoughts. You can see yourself standing barefooted at the bottom of a hole looking astounded at how tall the walls have grown, and how distant the light looks. It feels like you soared lightheartedly into the sky, just to fall and crush every bone in your body.

You roll your eyes to yourself while slightly cursing yourself out. Pushing the bathroom door open, you step out into the hallway and make a beeline back for the dining hall. Your purse starts spastically vibrating, so you hastily fish your phone out to put an end to the obnoxious noise. Scanning the text, you read that your mom is asking where you went, as the cake for your dad’s birthday is going to be cut soon. You sigh as you text, “I’m hurrying back now.”

That’s all you see before you feel a slight brush tickle your bare shoulder. Your eyes don’t dare move from your phone screen. You reason that it’s not someone you know, as they would have said something to you. Your hands shake as you put your phone back in your purse.

“Oh, sorry,” the voice trails off as he continues to walk down the hallway after he brushed up against you.

“It’s okay,” you whisper, without turning around, which is admittedly ridiculous.

As soon as you can judge his footsteps are far away enough, you make a quick glance behind to see if it really was him. And judging by the navy blue suit, it was.

Suddenly, the golden montage flows through your mind once more, showing an image of yourself wearing an old shirt of his, maybe one from when he was in high school for whatever sport he played, if he played one. Your feet feel the coolness of the wooden floor of the supposed home. The home both of you share? It’s so tangible, so real that you almost reach out to touch it. It’s right there...

Your head jerks yourself out of the vision once more, or rather the fact that you’re now faced with a white wall in front of you. You sigh a long frustrated sigh. I can’t believe I really walked by the entrance, how embarrassing, you think as you turn on your heels to backtrack. Why does this stranger have you so wrapped around his finger? No one else has been able to even come close to doing that. You feel your face with your hand, and it’s burning. I’ll go in there looking like a tomato, it’s fine.

You do your best to quite literally shake off those thoughts as you push open the dining room hall door. “There you are!” your mom says. “We’ve been looking everywhere for you. Come on, we’re going to sing happy birthday to Dad.”

“Can’t wait,” you beam. After all, your dad only turns 50 once, and this night is about him, afterall. You follow your mom to a table with a white tablecloth resting on it.

Stella pops out from behind your dad to approach you and whispers, “Are you sure you’re okay?”

You resist the urge to gently shove her in front of everyone. “Yes,” you pleadingly insist, “now stop asking me in front of Mom and Dad, they’ll think something is wrong.”

She side eyes you with an attitude. “Fine.”

“They’re my girls,” your dad says with a smile.

You and Stella laugh while leaning into him for a quick hug. “Hey dad,” you both say in unison.

The room completely dies down, people could hear a pin drop. “Ready?” your mom asks the guests. The room takes a collective deep breath.

And so the melody of Happy Birthday rings joyously through the hall, you can see the mystery stranger out of the corner of your eye. Heat radiates off your skin, it’s almost like you can feel his eyes boring into you. It takes all the willpower you can muster, but you resist the temptation to look over at him all throughout the song.

When the song is over, the room breaks out into obnoxiously loud clapping. You, Stella, and your parents share loving looks and warm smiles.

Eventually, everyone proceeds to return to normal chatter at the one rectangular table of two that they’re sitting at, and so do you, Stella and your parents.

You pull out your seat next to your sister near the middle of the middle of the table and sit, fixing your dress.

“Ahem,” Stella says in an ill attempt to cover her suspiciousness with a clearing throat noise. Queue whatever accusatory question she’s got.

“Let me just set something straight,” she starts.

“Go for it,” you say as you reach for some water.

“It’s definitely that guy a few seats down, isn’t it?” She smirks. She’s got you trapped in her little web, and she knows it.

You may or may not have fought back choking on your water or pulling a ridiculous spit take on the nice white table cloth.

You lean in and harshly whisper, “Well you didn’t have to say it that loudly.” You glance over at the mystery stranger and see his hand wrapped around his glass as he goes to drink it. He has a thick silver ring on his pointer finger?

“Hello?” Stella shifts her head to selfishly cut off your view of him.

“Okay,” you sigh in defeat, “yes it’s him. Happy?”

“Very,” she says, very satisfied because she finally pried it out of you and got you to admit it. Someone else has you wrapped around their finger. She didn’t even have to know all the details of the montages to know. She could tell by the way your eyes glossed over and how your lips would slightly part like you were in a hazy daydream.

And you were.

“Who is he anyway? And why don’t we know him?” You ask.

“I don’t know, honestly. A little strange, isn’t it? Why don’t you ask mom who he is?” She suggests, but her cheshire smile suggests that she will somehow find out, with or without your mom’s help.

“But mom’s going to absolutely harass me until I say something to him. Just you on my tail is enough,” you say with an eyebrow raised as to say ‘don’t test me.’ And Stella knows you’re right.

“Alright, fine,” she concedes, “But why don’t you, I don’t know, talk to him?”

“I did,” you nonchalantly float.

Her eyes widen and her mouth forms an “O” from disbelief. Did you really not talk to people that much?

“Really?” she practically squeals.

“Yeah, he brushed by me and said, ‘Sorry’ so I said, ‘It’s okay.’” Okay, now you get why your friends and family get mad at you for refusing to talk to people. But cracking this joke was one you could not pass up.

Her face scrunches up and she exhibits the biggest eye roll you have ever seen. She opens her mouth to start saying something, probably to scold at you, but you open your mouth to cut her off first.

“Alright no, I haven’t. And do you know why?” As you’re about to get your thought out, you’re interrupted by a fit of laughter down the stretch of the table. Your eyes scan but freeze on the stranger, whose nose is adorably scrunched up as he laughs with multiple, yes multiple, people about goodness knows what. And there’s that other blonde that you still don’t know, laughing with him. You tear your stare away and focus back on your sister.

“Look, that right there. That’s why,” you say, anger burning through your chest.

Stella raises an eyebrow in her own judgemental manner. “He talks to people? You know people do that right?”

Now it’s your turn to return the favor of a judgemental eye roll. “No, Stella, I mean just look at him and the people he’s surrounded by. It’s so obvious that everyone wants him. Just look at that girl with him. I’m not the only one who wants to love him.”

Silence ensues between you two. She picks up her phone and shoots a quick text. After a moment she says, “Well, I think if you just talked to him, you’d be pleasantly surprised with what could happen. I have to help mom with distributing gift bags. You stay here,” she instructs.

You can only assume you’re not being called to help because Stella graciously told your mom that you’re potentially working up the courage to talk to someone that’s not one of your three friends or your family. How generous of her.

A few friends of your dad stop by your seat to say goodbye before they head out. The noise slightly dies down enough to scarcely hear some other conversations. You hear nothing out of the ordinary, just a girl talking about getting into her dream school to some guy. Your ears slightly move as you pick up on a voice that sounds like the one in the hallway earlier.

“Yeah dude, but did you see the fake out on the goalie on the second goal? That had to have been the best part.”

Out of instinct you open your mouth to interject, but quickly shut it and put it under lock and key. You blink in disbelief. Hockey? Did this man just speak on hockey?

You circle the rim of the coffee cup and stare at the brown liquid. In a different universe…

In a different universe you would have actually kept your mouth open, and maybe even squeezed some words out, too.

“Actually, that seamless stretch pass down the neutral zone from the defenseman after a pretty difficult forecheck set up the play pretty well. I’d give him a lot of credit, too.”

He’d probably look a little shocked, as do most guys when you interject your two-sense about hockey. But maybe he’d break out into a small smile and offer a rebuttal. Yeah, that sounds nice. Maybe one day…

Maybe one day you’ll be sitting next to him on the couch, watching a game while cuddling and brushing the hair out of his face. Oh who are you kidding, you’ll be up and screaming at the TV. It’s your staple.

A noise of someone dropping something behind you slightly startles you and pulls you out of your once again golden daydream. You finally stop mindlessly circling the rim of your coffee cup to take a sip, but only to find it’s now ice cold.

This is why you hate looking through a pair of rose colored glasses. It distracts you from enjoying things. You glance over at your dad who’s still talking to one of his good friends that lingered after festivities. You’re supposed to be celebrating him right now, but instead you’re literally stuck in this cursedly pure golden daydream that is almost too good to break.

You can see him. He’s still there, at the end of the table, chatting away with some dude. The blonde left at some point, though.

“Well, I gotta head out, man, good to see you. My sister needs help with packing her stuff for college tomorrow, so we’ve got a busy day coming up.”

Could that girl have been his sister?

“Congratulations to her on getting into her dream school by the way,” the guy says. “I talked to her when she was here earlier, and she seemed super excited.”

A wave of cool relief washes over your body, remembering the conversation about college you picked up on earlier. It was his sister.

“Yeah she is, she worked really hard, and it also involved a whole lot of crying,” he chuckles.

Ain’t that right, you think to yourself.

The table shakes as he pushes out of his chair. Your eyes remain glued to your coffee cup no matter how much you want them to move. You just can’t gather the courage to say something, and you’re cursing yourself for it. You don’t want to sit here and dream about him anymore. You want to actually let these things happen, for once. You want to just unleash all these swirling and sickeningly sweet emotions from your body and drown him in it. You want so badly to leap up and say something, anything. Step on those voices taunting you and mocking you saying that it could never happen, it could never be so it will never be. He’s so inviting that you can’t resist any longer. You go to reach out to him, but the door shuts before you know it.

And just as fleeting as he came,

He’s gone.

Fuck. It feels as though a brick is sitting on your chest, suffocating you. You really let your worries control you, and this time it feels as though you’re going to regret it for the rest of your life. You just can’t believe you let it happen when your mind was begging you to talk to him. You always do-

“Shit,” you mumble. In your frustration, you knocked over the remnants of the coffee onto the not-so-white-anymore table cloth. Tears prickle up in your eyes, your throat closes, and your nose begins to sting. You quickly swallow these emotions down your throat and begin to use a napkin to soak up the excess coffee. Drinks have really not been your friend tonight.

For the first time, you notice as you clean that it’s just you left in the room, besides a few people cleaning up on the other end. You’re not sure where your family has gone, but you haven’t received any texts prompting you to leave yet. It’s so silent that you can hear some muffled chatter down the hall.

Suddenly, you hear the same creak of the door open with an “oof” that doesn’t quite sound like your dad. Your blood runs cold and you freeze mid press into the tablecloth. You glance up without turning around to see a lone jacket hanging on a chair suspiciously close to the chair he previously sat in. Your eyes widen and dart around the room, but you dare not move, waiting to see what he does. Even after cursing yourself out for ten minutes while cleaning up spilled coffee, you still haven’t learned to make the first move. His presence feels like a forcefield, you can feel it heavily pressing into your back.

But he isn’t moving to grab the jacket, no.

A pointer finger with a silver ring taps your shoulder.

“Hey,” the clarity of his voice rings in your ears like a bell. Your heart is racing so fast that it feels like it’s going to burst out of your rib cage and run its own 10k. You slowly crank your head around to meet his eyes for the first time-- face to face.

And you must say, his face is really pretty when you actually talk to him face to face. Maybe you should do this more often. You take in his golden features, and struggle to hide a small smirk creeping up on your face. His messy hair falls perfectly into place on his head, and his kind face makes you feel as though a mess of metallic gold swirls are playfully swirling and dashing around you both. You’ve found him in this lifetime.

“I’m Mat, can I help you clean up before I grab my jacket?”

[mimisempai]

Wait for me on the other side 8/8

Summary:

The long awaited end! Will they finally overcome all the obstacles?

Here we go! Enjoy the journey!

https://archiveofourown.org/works/32948254/chapters/82452802

Chapter 1 - Chapter 2 - Chapter 3 - Chapter 4 - Chapter 5 - Chapter 6 - Chapter 7 - Chapter 8 (End)

The months and seasons have passed for Mobius and Loki.

Mobius moved out of the house on the cliff and into an apartment above the store. After Ravonna's death, Casey saw no reason to stay in TK and joined Mobius at Miss Minutes.

With his client base expanding, Mobius needed someone to help him and thought of Casey, who had been more than enthusiastic at the idea.

They had formed a curious friendship with Sylvie and life was flowing smoothly.

Casey could see that at times Mobius' eyes seemed lost. His face wore a melancholic expression. But Mobius said nothing, smiled and Casey pretended he hadn't seen anything.

On New Year's Eve 2022, Mobius, Casey and Sylvie were celebrating together and as the fireworks started, Mobius couldn't help but think of other fireworks with nostalgia and wondered what Loki was doing, where and with whom.

January 2021 - Miss Minutes

It was already late and Mobius was hunched over his drawing table, looking focused as Casey poked his head through the door.

"Mobius, I'm going in. I've got it all locked up, you'll just have to close the main door and the blind."

Mobius focused, simply replied, "Hm..."

Casey, seeing that he hadn't been listening, approached and looked over Mobius' shoulder at what he was working on.

"A new project?"

Mobius looked up, a little embarrassed, "Oh. No. It's just... a personal thing."

Casey shifted to get a better look at Mobius' work.

Mobius tried to hide it.

"Mobius, let me see."

"No, it's nothing."

"Come on."

Mobius gave in and Casey's eyes widened at the drawing.

It was the house on the cliff but re-imagined. There was a terrace that ran along the back, and stairs that went down to the water - the stairs that Mobius had described to Loki. There were trees planted along the way, and lights shining in the trees. The house was just as extraordinary as before, but much less austere, much warmer, almost romantic.

Casey said softly, "I like it."

Mobius asked casually, "Do you like it?"

Casey nodded enthusiastically, "Before, it looked like a place you would go to be alone. In this one, I can imagine taking someone there."

Mobius nodded. Casey looked at him with his piercing eyes, and asked softly, "Who is he?"

Mobius answered without hesitation, "Loki. His name was Loki."

"When you lived there?"

Mobius nodded and Casey continued, "I knew it, that there was something or rather someone. What happened?"

Mobius replied simply, "I lost him."

"How?"

Mobius replied with a hesitant voice, "It's hard to explain. It's mostly... it was... bad timing."

"You miss him?"

Mobius couldn't deny it and Casey insisted, "Make him come back."

Mobius ran a hand over his face, "It's too late. Or too soon..."

"What?"

Mobius shook his head, "Nothing. I don't even know where he is. And even if I did, I couldn't walk up to him and say, ``Hey, I'm here, let's pick up where we left off."

Casey defiantly asked him, "What would you have to lose?"

Mobius didn't answer.

**********

Loki was still living in the same place and the tree had continued to grow in front of the building.

He spent a lot of time with Thor, who had apparently decided to take him under his wing.

He was alone, but he had a friend, friends even, that he could count on, and if sometimes one or the other tried to encourage him to date someone, they never insisted.

He devoted his life to his classes, the students liked him a lot, and Kamala who kept coming to see him after class had brought other members of the gang with her, and the discussions around Norse mythology had turned into a reading club.

Early February 2023 - Loki's apartment

Loki had decided to clean up, because in two years, he was starting to pile up things, and it was time to sort out.

He was organizing his clothes when he came across the outfit he had never put back on since the missed date. His throat tightened as he was about to put it in the pile of clothes to be thrown away, but he couldn't bring himself to do it and put it in the back of the closet.

Later, as he was vacuuming, he noticed a creaky floorboard. He bent down to examine it and found that it could be lifted quite easily.

Loki pulled the floorboard and to his surprise, there was an empty space underneath. He bent further to examine it. He saw that there was something there, put his hand to grab it and pulled out a package wrapped in dusty plastic. He opened it. His heart leapt out of his chest, it was his copy of PERSUASION.

One page was marked with a rose, now dried and withered by time. He opened it to the marked page and saw that a sentence had been underlined.

There could have been no two hearts so open,

no tastes so similar, no feelings so in unison.

He stared at the words, breathless.

February 14, 2023 - September Academy

Thor and Loki, along with the other teachers, were sitting in the school's conference room waiting for the presentation to begin.

Thor leaned over to Loki, "Hey, since Jane won't be able to spend this Valentine's Day with me, how about a hallmark movie night with some popcorn and good beer?"

Loki smiled softly, "Sounds good to me, but in the meantime we've gotta get through this presentation."

Just after his words, a short dark-haired man entered the room and took his place on the stage, greeted by Natasha who spoke up, "Hello everyone, thank you for coming. We are pleased to welcome Casey Fish, from Miss Minutes."

Loki startled slightly, the name ringing a bell.

"Casey is here today to introduce us to a new line of electronic organizers for students and teachers, allowing for better communication between the various parties. Thank you for giving him your attention."

Casey cleared his throat and began to speak, "Hello everyone! Thank you for your welcome Ms. Romanov, Miss Minutes is basically a small watch store, but over the years we wanted to expand its business to include time management in all its forms, and its founder had the idea a little over two years ago to create this."

He pointed to the screen that just displayed a small rectangular device, much like a flip phone.

"Let me introduce you to The Tempad. The Tempad, thanks to its small holographic avatar, allows you to be connected at any time with your colleagues, with your students."

He clicked on the remote control to bring up the next image.

"This is Miss Minutes for you."

Loki gasped, of course he knew Miss Minutes, it was exactly like the little picture Mobius had drawn when he had written to him about his store.

Thor, sensing his friend's confusion, leaned toward him and whispered, "Loki? Are you okay?"

Loki nodded.

He listened to the rest of the presentation in a daze, and as Casey was packing up his things on the stage, Loki rushed in without further ado, almost shoving some of his colleagues in his way.

February 14, 2021 - In front of Miss Minutes

Casey and Mobius came out in their winter coats, but they realized it was surprisingly warm.

Mobius growled, "Honestly, what the hell?"

Casey shrugged as he replied, "Global warming."

Mobius asked Casey, "Do you want to come to my house for dinner tonight?"

Casey replied with a small air of pride, "I can't. I have a date tonight, it's Valentine's Day."

Mobius continued forward for a few steps, then stopped.

"What?"

"What, is it so weird that I have a date on Valentine's Day night?"

Mobius looked around. The day was really hot. People everywhere were enjoying the sun. He turned to Casey, a strange look on his face.

"What's the date?"

"Valentine's Day I told you, so it's February 14."

Mobius repeated, "February 14, 2021."

Casey looked at him, curious, "Yeah. What's up with you?"

Mobius with pensive eyes replied, "He told me about today."

"Who? You mean the guy?"

"Yes!" replied Mobius excitedly, "There's a letter that says where he's going to be!"

Casey understood less and less, "He wrote you?"

Mobius nodded quickly, "Yes. I could see him today. You said it the other day...what have I got to lose?"

Casey replied matter-of-factly, "What are you waiting for?"

"I just need to find the letter!"

Mobius ran to his apartment above the store, rummaged through his old boxes, until he remembered that Loki's letters were still in the house on the cliff, in the attic. He looked for the spare keys to the housel, ran to his old pickup and drove off at full speed.

February 14, 2023 - September High-school

" Mister, uh... Casey, can I ask you something. Miss Minutes' founder, who is it?"

Casey, with a surprised look, answered him, clearing his throat, "He's a friend, Mo... Mobius M. Mobius."

Loki repeated, his heart pounding, "Mobius..."

Casey replied, "Yes. Do you... do you know him?"

Loki nodded, "Yes. He... where is he? Could you tell me how I could contact him?"

Casey suddenly looked very sad, "I'm sorry. You don't know?"

"What?"

Casey replied with a tight throat, "He died. Two years ago." He swallowed before resuming, "Two years ago today, in fact, there was an accident..."

Loki, shocked, gasped, then whispered, "Where?"

A few seconds later, Loki ran out of the school and headed for his car under the rain that had started to fall. Thor was behind him, bewildered, and called him, "Loki! Wait! What's going on?"

As he continued to run, Loki told him, 'It's an emergency! I don't have time!"

Thor asked, "Is that him?"

Loki, while running, replied, "Yes!" and heard Thor shout back at him as he climbed into his car, "Go Loki! Get him!"

Loki drove out of the city toward the house, rain pouring down on his windshield. He weaved between lanes, passing cars, driving recklessly, as fast as he could.

House on the cliff - February 14, 2021

Mobius stopped in front of the lake house. It was closed, empty. He ran across the path and unlocked the front door.

House on the cliff - February 14, 2023

Loki arrived at the house and stopped skidding in the rain in front of the mailbox. He pulled out a notepad and began to write, desperately.

House on the cliff - February 14, 2021

Mobius ran to the attic. Inside was the only box he had stored there when he moved out. He opened the box and searched frantically. He found the bundle of letters from Loki. After a few moments, he found the one he was looking for and read it.

Last February, I remember it was Valentine's Day, but it was really hot for a day in February.

I was at the fountain in Valhalheim Square.

He said aloud, "The Valhalheim Square Fountain."

House on the cliff - February 14, 2023

Loki finished writing the note and jumped out of the car. He put it in the mailbox and raised the flag.

He stayed there, and fell to his knees in front of the box, soaked by the rain.

House on the cliff - February 14, 2021

Mobius jumped into his pick-up , and quickly drove away from the house. He passed the mailbox.

Valhalheim Square - February 14, 2021

Loki closed his eyes for a moment, letting the sunlight warm him. Just aware of the surrounding sounds, the water in the fountain, the splashing and laughter of children playing in it, an old man grumbling about global warming, pigeons landing nearby.

Mobius could see the fountain from inside his pickup. He looked for a parking spot, finally found one and jumped out. He started running towards the square.

In his hand he clutched a piece of paper, the words of which echoed in his head.

Dear Mobius.

I know it now... it was you at the fountain that day.

It was you on the square. Please, don't go there.

Something terrible will happen if you go there.

Mobius continued to run toward the fountain.

He stopped at the curb, separated from the fountain by a dense road full of traffic. He looked away, searching for Loki beyond the noisy traffic, among the crowd in the park.

Please don't look for me.

He finally saw him, a distant figure, eyes closed, enjoying the warmth of the sun. He smiled.

Don't try to find me.

They are now only separated by distance.

Don't run to me.

The traffic became less dense and Mobius had a clear view of Loki, straight ahead.

Do you understand? Please. You must wait.

Mobius stepped off the curb, wanting to get closer to Loki.

Forget everything I said before.

We both have to wait.

If you love me and if I love you.

I love you, it's taken me this long to say it but I really love you, so wait for me.

Mobius saw Loki open his eyes, as if drawn in his direction. He looks alarmed.

Wait with me. Wait until time catches up with both of us and we can be together. Please. Just... wait.

House on the cliff - February 14, 2023

Loki soaked, was in tears at the foot of the mailbox and only whispered, "Wait, wait..." and continued to cry.

The rain continues to fall.

Loki, finally, having lost all hope, tried to pull himself together and began, very slowly, to get to his feet.

He looked at the box and gasped, the flag was down.

With trembling hands, he did not dare to open the door and when he did, he saw that his letter was gone.

Valhalheim Square - February 14, 2021

Mobius was standing on the road, straining to see Loki and at the last second, he backed up to the sidewalk, safe. He continued to watch Loki, he desperately wanted to run to him, but he didn't, he folded the letter, put it in his pocket and reluctantly turned and walked away.

House on the cliff - February 14, 2023

Loki looked at the empty mailbox, his face soaked with tears and rain.

A hand came up from behind him and gently closed the box. He slowly turned around.

Mobius stood silently and looked at him, holding the worn letter Loki had just posted. Loki stared at him for a moment, trying to convince himself that this was real.Then Mobius took a step toward Loki and smiled, shyly.

"Have we waited long enough?"

Loki, still shocked, his eyes filled with tears, whispered, "Yes."

Mobius approached again, and smiling more openly this time, brought his hand to Loki's face and wiped a tear with his thumb.Loki rested his head in his palm and then finally they fell into each other's arms, squeezing each other, inhaling each other's scent, prolonging the embrace again and again, making sure it was real. Making sure that each of them was real.

Then Mobius finally pulled back and captured Loki's lips in an endless kiss. For long minutes they separated only to catch their breath before kissing again, over and over again, indifferent to the rain that fell around them.

Much later, they separated to catch their breath and Mobius took Loki's hand to lead him home.

Loki gasped. The house on the cliff had changed.

In the two years of Mobius' life, the life Loki had saved, Mobius had transformed it.

He had brought to life the design he had shown Casey two years ago, with the deck, and the stairway to the water they had talked about, and the trees planted along the path, lit and glowing in the rain.

Loki laughed, astonished, and turning to Mobius he took his face in his hands and kissed him again.

Then they walked together along the path, stopping often to touch and kiss.

As they passed the door, Loki held Mobius by the sleeve, "Wait."

Mobius turned around and couldn't help but touch Loki's face with his fingertips once more.

Loki grabbed his hand and interlaced his fingers with Mobius' as he said softly, "I don't want to wait to tell you for real this time." He paused and with a trembling smile and bright eyes, he told him, "I love you."

Mobius didn't want to wait to tell him in turn either, "I love you."

They hugged each other tightly again, tasting the happiness of hearing those words spoken by the beloved voice.

Then much later, they entered their home, ready to start a new life where everything was still to be discovered. Together.

**********

The house on the cliff - Summer 2024

"Cwoki! Cwoki!"

"Lila! Go slowly honey and wait for your little brother!"

"Wait my love, I'll help you." Clint came to support Laura who was struggling up on the small path leading to the house on the hill. She huffed a little, laying her hand on her belly rounded by her 6 months of pregnancy.

They watched, fondly, as their two children gave gentle pats to a Croki who seemed to enjoy it.

"Lila, Cooper, stop spoiling Croki, he'll keep coming to us for petting afterwards."

Both children stood up and grabbed onto the legs of the man who had just spoken.

"Uncle Mobius!"

He picked them both up, carrying them each in one arm.

"What about me, don't I get a hello kiss?"

Each of the two children placed a sounding kiss on Mobius' cheeks at the same time.

"Should I be jealous?" a voice behind Mobius spoke up.

"Uncle Loki!"

Cooper was already reaching out to Loki, who didn't hesitate. The little boy gave him a big kiss on the cheek and wiggled to be put back on the ground.

Loki and Mobius, side by side, welcomed Laura and Clint.

"Clint, Laura, Welcome!"

They all embraced and then headed to the terrace.

Loki guided Laura to a comfortable chair, stuffed with cushions for her. She sat down with a sigh, "Thank you." then looking around, she continued, "I may have been here many times before, but I'll never tire of this view."

Mobius motioned for Clint to sit next to Laura, before taking a seat as well.

Loki was about to sit down when he heard the unmistakable sound of a car pulling up in front of the house, Mobius started to get up, but Loki motioned for him to stay seated. "Stay seated, love, I'll welcome them."

He walked down the path toward the cars that had just arrived.

Thor was the first to walk over to him, "Loki! My friend!" before hugging him. Loki was now used to Thor's overflowing affection and allowed himself to be patted on the back.

Soon Heimdall, Bruce, Carol and Natasha joined them and followed his lead into the house. When they arrived on the terrace, everyone greeted each other, and sat around the table chatting happily. Lila was in awe of Natasha's red curls, and Cooper laughed out loud as Thor spun him around at arm's length.

"Is this the direction for the little party?"

Heads turned to the source of the voice as Mobius exclaimed, "Casey, we weren't expecting you anymore!"

Casey laughed lightly and added, "Where do I put this?" he pointed to the cake in his hands.

"I'll take it." replied Loki. He took the cake into the kitchen and there he felt suddenly overwhelmed by emotion. He waited for a while before returning to the terrace.

"Hey handsome, what are you doing here alone?"

Loki looked up and smiled, "Mobius."

Mobius, who after more than a year had learned to decipher Loki's expressions, noticed that something was wrong.

"Loki, sweetheart, what's going on with you."

Loki wanted to start talking, but the emotion was too strong,

"Hey, come here." Mobius took him in his arms and gently stroked his back, waiting for the worst of the crisis to pass.

After a few moments, Loki straightened up, a trembling smile beneath the tears, "I'm sorry, I don't know, I'm not sad, not at all, on the contrary, but I suddenly had this irrepressible urge to cry."

Mobius nodded, pushed a strand of Loki's hair back behind his ear.

"Just too much emotion maybe? What were you thinking?"

"I... I was putting the cake on the table and I thought, if you hadn't read my letter, none of this would be real. I wouldn't be here. There wouldn't be all these people on our deck. And it freaked me out for just a short moment, to realize that I almost lost everything."

Mobius, also visibly moved, pressed a tender kiss on Loki's mouth and said softly, "But on the contrary, you have, we have gained everything. You saved me, gave me a new life, and in doing so you gave us all a different and more beautiful life."

Loki nodded his head, then shook it as if to collect himself.

He kissed Mobius tenderly in turn, then stepped aside and grabbed Mobius' hand and pulled him toward the terrace, a confident smile on his lips.

"Come on, let's go celebrate!"

As Mobius let himself be pulled along and they walked through the living room, his gaze fell on Ravonna's book. His first family. His sister. Then his gaze slid to Loki in front of him and by extension everyone else on the terrace. Their new family. Not by blood, but by heart. All because one day, Loki had posted a little letter.

Dear new tenant.

Hello and welcome to your new home and congratulations, blah blah blah. You have made an excellent choice, New Asgard is a wonderful place and this house is a gem, as you may have already noticed.

I'm sure you'll love living here as much as I do.

Loki had not known that these words would be so prescient, even though they came from the future and were addressed to someone from the past.

Oh yes, Mobius loved living here, but not because of the house, because of the love that filled it. Because of Loki.

Together. For All time. Always.

_________

That's it, everyone is happy, including me. I hope you enjoyed it to the end. 1000 thanks to all the comments left, it's the fuel for each chapter. I love you all!

[spicycreativity]

Howl - Ch 2

Chapter: 2/10

Add'l Notes: As usual, fic is like 6 chapters ahead on my AO3, WizardGlick

Chapter Content Warnings: N/A, ask to tag

Trying a new thing where I force you to read the first paragraph by not including it under the cut 😇

--

Virgil slept soundly and woke up unharmed in his bed. The relative cold of the morning air bit into his face, the only part of him that wasn't buried under his duvet. Still laying down, he wriggled into his hoodie and got up to make coffee. He mentally checked himself over while he waited for it to brew, staring blankly at the French press with stinging eyes. Damn, he must not have gotten all his vampire makeup off. Ah, well. His own absentmindedness was not a curse. Maybe he had escaped unscathed. Nothing hurt, save a normal soreness in his legs from standing around watching the Halloween parade, and a quick look in one of the many ornate mirrors decorating his walls revealed nothing abnormal with his face (well, except for the smudgy remnants of last night's eyeliner).

Despite this reassuring examination, he still spent the morning jumping at shadows. He rode his moped extra slowly and took time adjusting the straps of his helmet to make sure it fit perfectly. He examined the hanging sign ("Mystick Earth: ephemera for all ages") outside his workplace to make sure it wouldn't fall and kill him. He even took high steps on his way to the register to make sure he wouldn't trip over anything unseen.

But nothing bad happened.

In fact, nothing much happened at all until just past noon, when the brass bells on the door jangled and Logan stepped in, wafting the smell of warm bread and something sweet in with him.

Virgil didn't even realize he was smiling until his cheeks began to ache. "Hi," he said.

"Hello, Virgil." Logan wasn't looking at him; he was focusing on the paper bag hooked around one wrist and the drink carrier balanced in his other arm. "Forgive me for not asking first, but I wanted to surprise you."

"Here, you can set that on the counter." Virgil already knew what Logan had brought: banh mi, pho, and bubble tea from Sunrise, Virgil's favorite café.

Before he could talk himself out of it, Virgil pressed his hands on the counter and levered himself up to give Logan a kiss. He had always known that Logan was courteous and sweet under that somewhat stiff exterior; this wasn't even the first time he had done something kind for Virgil out of nowhere. But Virgil never could get used to being doted on. "Thank you, Logan."

Logan dropped his gaze, one hand coming up to fidget with his tie. "You're quite welcome."

The bells chimed again. Virgil looked up and caught sight of Roman, who had frozen in place. Catching Virgil's gaze, he straightened as though offended. "Well," he said, "I just came by to make sure Count Virgila survived the night, but it looks as though Casanova here beat me to the punch."

Logan turned. "Roman. I hope you've already eaten, because I only brought enough food for two people."

"I can take a hint," Roman said. Virgil raised his eyebrows at him expectantly, but Roman only raised his own eyebrows back, strode over to the counter, and stole a sip of Virgil's milk tea.

"I thought you said you could take a hint," Virgil said.

"I can," Roman said, "but I'm choosing not to."

Logan sighed through his nose and passed Virgil his sandwich. "I see no need to insist upon politeness if Roman is not going to return the favor."

Roman bumped Logan with his hip. "Really, I just came by to make sure Virgil's okay "

The bells jangled. Virgil looked up again, half-surprised and half-annoyed to see Janus, clad in the extravagant tailcoat he had to wear for work, pretending rather transparently to examine the display of tarot card-themed posters by the door. "Hi, Janus," he said, making no effort to hide his annoyance. Maybe this was the curse, to never get any alone time with Logan.

"Let me guess," said Roman, "you're here to check on Virgil."

"Of course not," Janus said, now pawing through the discount t-shirt display. Ugh, Virgil had just finished re-folding those. "Virgil's a big boy; he knows how to handle himself."

"Oh, yeah?" Virgil raised an eyebrow. "For all the money in the register, tell me what you came to buy and what you plan to use it for."

For the brief moment that Janus hesitated, Virgil allowed himself to hope that he had gotten one over on Janus. In all their years of friendship, he had admitted to being wrong exactly once. Virgil kept the date saved in his phone calendar and made sure to send Janus a card on the anniversary. But a moment's hesitation was all the satisfaction he got this time; Janus faced him properly, adjusted his tie, and said, "I don't know. I'm looking for a gift for Remus."

"Nice save," Virgil said. "We'll see about that."

"Oh, I don't know why you bother trying to hide it." Roman beckoned Janus over to the counter. "Look with your own eyes: he's fine."

"I combined like five different rituals last night," Virgil said. "And I'm doing another one once I get off work." He had already paid for the bottle and the string, knowing he had a hand trowel somewhere in the depths of his spider-infested shed.

Roman quick-drew his phone from his pocket and had himself posed for a selfie with Virgil almost before Virgil could process what was happening. "Smile," he said. "Patton made me promise I'd send him a picture."

Virgil flashed a peace sign. It was better to just go with it. Despite his bravado, Roman got his feelings hurt easily, and it was never fun to try to bounce back from that. "Are we done now?"

"Pardon us for caring about you," Roman said, sticking his nose into the air. It was such a Remus thing to do that Virgil nearly laughed, but he managed to hold himself together.

"Yeah, yeah, my friends love and cherish me, blah, blah, blah."

"Also," Roman read from his phone, "Patton says to tell Janus to come over soon so they can make cutting boards together."

"He was serious about that?" Janus looked helplessly at Virgil. Ah, yes, Patton had made the invitation last night and Janus, leaning back on social niceties, had agreed. "I thought he was just being nice."

"Nope." Virgil leaned forward across the counter and grinned. "Not only is Patton gonna make you make yourself a cutting board, you're going to enjoy it."

"We'll see about that," Janus said. He shook up his sleeve so he could glance at his watch. "Well, I should get back to Bienvenue. Those suits won't sell themselves."

He turned on his heel and made for the door so quickly that Virgil knew he was forgetting something. Ding. "Wait, but weren't you going to buy something for Remus?" he called.

"Sorry," said Janus, one hand already on the door. "Can't hear you, bye." And he was gone.

Roman bounced on his toes. "Alright, alright, I'll leave you two to it, too."

"Thank you kindly," Virgil said, metering the sardonic bite in his tone so that Roman wouldn't get offended.

Roman tipped an imaginary hat first to Virgil, then to Logan, and sauntered out.

"Finally," Virgil sighed. He looked up to find Logan staring at him with evident concern. "What?"

"Are you alright?" Logan asked. "I know you take this kind of thing seriously and I would hate for you to feel like I'm not supporting you just because I don't share your belief."

Virgil couldn't help but smile as an unfamiliar feeling spread from his stomach to his chest. Ah, the warm fuzzies. He couldn't even be mad about the damage to his dark and brooding image. "I'm okay, Lo. I did my stuff."

Logan smiled back: a small, shy thing. "I'm glad."

They were quiet for a moment. Virgil took small bites of his banh mi, careful to keep one eye on the door. It had been an unusually slow day, especially given that it was the day after Halloween. The denizens of Vaillant were superstitious enough that Virgil was rarely idle behind the counter of Mystick Earth. A few groups of people paused by the door, some even going so far as to peer in through the glass storefront windows, but no one came in. Virgil relaxed a little. "How's work? Catch anyone embezzling?"

"Not yet," Logan said, pushing his sleeves further up his elbows. Virgil tried not to stare at the few additional centimeters of skin this action exposed. What was he, a repressed Victorian? "I did notice a discrepancy in the amount we spent on office supplies, but it was only because someone had miswritten a 'seven' as a 'two.'"

"No office drama?" Virgil ribbed him. "Nobody stealing pens or making out in supply closets?"

"Unfortunately, we are a building of professionals." Logan paused, straightened his tie. "The light above my cubicle went out and I had to put in an email to maintenance to get it fixed."

"Man, I could never work in an office," Virgil said.

"Did anything interesting happen to you this morning?"

"Eh, I had someone looking to curse an ex, and I had to explain why that's not acceptable. I won't bore you with the details." Virgil took another bite of his sandwich and bounced the toe of his shoe against the floor. Was he doing this right? It had been so long since his last real relationship, and everyone knew what a disaster that had been. He liked Logan, liked being with Logan, but��� Well, maybe he was freaking out over nothing. He just had to remember how to do it right, and then everything would be okay.

"Ordinarily, I would challenge the notion that you could ever bore me," Logan said, "but I do have to leave soon."

"Finish your pho," Virgil said, smiling. "I can tell you later."

They finished eating and Virgil again leaned up to give Logan a kiss, balancing his weight on his hands. His heart wasn't in it, his brain a few seconds ahead. Should he come over the counter and walk Logan to the door? What should he say? ‘I love you’? Should he grab Logan's ass?

"Did you hear me?" Logan asked.

Virgil feet hit the floor, the impact driving tingles up to his knees. "Huh?"

"Just saying goodbye," Logan said.

"See you soon?"

"Let's make plans."

Logan left. Virgil stared at the door for a while, happiness ebbing away into loneliness and doubt. A small, childish part of him wanted to insist that Logan stay. Forget work. They could go to the movies and get ice cream, have a proper date. And Virgil would find some way to communicate just how much he appreciated Logan.

--

Virgil: Thanks for lunch, Lo

Logan: You're welcome

Logan: <3

Virgil hadn't gathered up the guts to respond to Logan's text message yet. It was really pathetic, how a single emoticon heart had him blushing and panicking like a teenager.

He swung one leg over his moped, but kept his weight mostly on the ground. Hating the way his heart pounded, he pulled out his phone.

Logan: <3

Virgil: <3

Before he could freak himself out any further, Virgil got on his moped properly and nearly peeled out of his parking spot. He rode home in silence, shivering a little in the wind chill and dodging potholes.

The sinking sun lit up the thunderheads on the horizon until the whole sky on Virgil's left was blue-gray and luminescent. He stared, admiring the bald cypress and tupelo trees silhouetted against the dying light, until the road turned and faced him toward the darkness. By the time he got home, it was full dark. He parked his moped in the carport and settled in for a lonely evening of curse-breaking.

Virgil wasn't usually lonely. As an introvert with several boisterous extroverts in his friend circle, he usually jumped at the chance for some alone time. But suddenly Logan's absence felt like loss in a way it never had before, and Virgil longed to have him near. Even if he just sat quietly and watched while Virgil put his own spin on constructing a witch bottle.

He went to bed early that night, earlier than usual, unable to stand the emptiness of his old house. Even the creaks and groans, even the ambient sounds of outside, even the ticking of his mantle clock, seemed to fade away into intolerable lonely silence. So Virgil crawled into bed before midnight, clutching his hoodie to his chest.

He didn't sleep well.

Strange visions haunted his dreams, almost primal in their intensity. He was rage, he was fear, he was power. He knew the earth beneath his feet, knew the deep, rich smells of the forest. He knew the moon above. It was bright but waning, pale silver struggling through the clouds that smelled of rain. So unlike Virgil, whose strength was eternal and agonizing and all. He howled.

He woke up all at once, all his senses alight. Even without opening his eyes, it was obvious: He was outside. Not only that, he was naked in the dirt.

He opened his eyes and rolled over, sitting up slowly to examine himself. Clammy soil clung to his exposed skin. He brushed it off with a shaking hand. His nails were stained with it too, all muddy and broken. And he was sore, almost as bad as the time he'd try to go jogging with Logan.

Virgil let the panic wash over him and pulled his legs in close to his chest, wrapped his arms around them. Wrong, wrong, wrong, he had nothing, knew nothing and he was all alone in the woods.

He crested the worst of the attack and clenched his trembling hands into fists, resentful of the adrenaline still ruling him. At least he seemed unharmed; his skin was free of bruises and scratches. He was just dirty. He raised a shaking hand to his left ear, feeling along the back of it for any strange marks. Finding nothing, he checked his right ear. The skin seemed wholly undisturbed, but he would see about that later. Right now, he had more pressing things to worry about than potential alien abduction. For one, there was the matter of his clothes… He got to his feet, covering his groin with his hands despite the solitude. All that surrounded him were the early-morning birdsong and the rustle of the wind in the leaves.

Spinning in a circle, Virgil found a place where branches had been broken and the underbrush had been thoroughly trampled by something much, much bigger than he. With no other leads, he steeled himself and followed the trail. It was difficult going. He had to keep his head down to make sure he didn’t step on anything sharp, and his heartbeat remained sharp and painful and panicked, beating out what-ifs beneath his skin. What if he couldn’t find his way home? What if he got arrested for public nudity? What if he tripped and broke his leg and got stranded? What if something attacked him?

The morning breeze picked up and made him shiver, drawing him out of his panicked thoughts. He just needed to keep walking. He might not even have been that far from home. He lived on the edge of the woods, so it made sense that he was within walking distance of home, right? Well, maybe not, but the belief was all he had. So he believed that he was close to home, believed that he would be fine, and continued to tread the path of destruction through the woods.

He was closer than he’d thought. Soon, the sound of tires over asphalt reached his ears and he picked up the pace. Crossing the road was a nerve-wracking endeavor, not least because the speed limit was 55 mph. He hadn’t seen any of his clothes on the trek. What would people say if they caught him darting naked across the road like some kind of feral mountain man? Traffic was sparse, it was true, but with Virgil’s luck, a pickup full of country boys would plow into him and leave him in the ditch. What a pleasant thought for a Friday morning. Pushing his fear aside, Virgil sprinted across the road as fast as his abused feet and sore muscles would let him. The trail of trampled bushes and broken branches led directly to his house, as he had feared it might, and the destruction didn’t stop there. His front door was open, bugs buzzing around the light over his kitchen sink. Several of his end tables had been knocked over and various trinkets from his many floating shelves littered the floor. His ceramic incense holder lay in pieces by the magazine rack filled with his collection of old tabloids-- the tabloids were okay, thank goodness.

“Hello?” Virgil called. No one answered, and the house was silent. He crept into the bedroom. Ah, there were his clothes. The t-shirt he slept in had split at the seams and his boxers hadn’t fared much better. At least his hoodie was okay. He pulled it on and slipped into a new pair of boxers, exhaustion finally catching up with him. He needed to deal with this, like, really needed to deal with this, but his bed…

He face-planted into it, not even bothering to straighten out or pull his legs onto the mattress. Sleep now, unpack terrifying potential supernatural encounter later.