#fic: looking for the meaning

[aplaceinthedark]

chapter 6: MADE BREATH and SKIN

Summary: The Appalachian Mountains hide numerous monsters, and it's up to Taylor and the Bad Omens to prevent them from causing any harm. 

Word Count: 4.3k+

CW: mention of death, witchcraft, ritual sex, mild use of aphrodisiacs (CNC), teratophilia, female anatomy mentions on nonbinary character, swapping of bodily fluids (blood)

[Sex Stuff: Oral sex (nb receiving), overstimulation, PnV Unprotected (just cuz TeeTay has their tubes tied, doesn't mean you can get away with it. Wrap it before you yadda yadda)

This is RPF, and thus will contain real people, but names and events will be changed. If this bothers you too much, then please leave this temple without causing harm. 

A/N: It's my birthday and I'll post Noah Sebastian mild-monsterfucking smut if I want to 🥳 big thanks to @deathblacksmoke and @concretejunglefm for screaming over this for me

I brought back my AU title for this cuz it was way too fitting.

Divider by @saradika-graphics

I'm not sure what I expected when we walked into the Grove, but it certainly wasn't that I had already been here before. 

My heart rate skyrocketed when I recognized the exact spot where Nick hung in preparation to become a Vessel; where he lay as I screamed over his dead body. Why would they choose this place to do this? This was a terrible idea.  

I kicked my feet, signaling to Noah that I wanted to be put down. He loosened his grip on me and let me slide out of his arms. I felt immensely better now that I had been off my feet for the last bit of the hike, and especially now that I wasn't pressed to Noah's chest. 

My eyes kept being drawn to That Spot. “This is where Nick died,” I muttered.

“It's where we all died.”  

I turned to look up at him. “Well, except Jolly, but the river isn't too far from here." He shoved his hands into his pockets. “A lot of things happened here." 

I looked down at the ground as if I could find their bones amongst the roots and dirt. But I could now see why this place was important: there was something here that permeated the air above and the earth below. 

“Come on, we got a ritual to perform,” Noah said, tugging me back to earth by my bag strap.

He led me over to an area where a blanket had been spread. It was placed at the foot of a giant tree. I looked up into the branches, which seemed to warp and twist onto the air. They actually reminded me of Noah's antlers. Nick hadn't been kidding when he said I wouldn't be able to miss it. 

My thoughts went back to Nick. What was he doing right now? Was he going to be able to sleep tonight, knowing that I would be in someone else's arms?

“Hey! Airhead!”

Once again, Noah’s voice pulled me out of my thoughts. “You've got all the stuff we need,” he said, holding his hand out. 

I stuck the flashlight in my mouth to free both of my hands and started pulling stuff out to hand to him. There were seven candles of different colors, all unscented. They had something carved into the sides, but I barely had time to look. 

“I could've held the flashlights." Noah sighed in annoyance. 

“Nah,” I said, words muffled thanks to my lips being wrapped around–

Oh. Ew.

Noah placed all seven candles around the area, all equidistant from each other. He then held his hand out towards me. 

"I don't have any more," I said, mouth free of a flashlight.  

“A lighter, Airhead,” he said.  

“Oh,” I jumped, searching the jacket for a lighter. I handed it to Noah.  

“You gotta be in the circle for this part,” he said.  

I ducked my head and sheepishly stepped over the imaginary circle the candles made and moved to the center of the blanket. 

Noah went to light the candle at the base of the big tree. “That one has to be last,” I piped up.  Without missing a beat, he moved away from that candle to a different one. The wick burst to life, creating a soft glow that just barely lit the ground around it. At least I could Noah's outline now. 

As he went around the circle, I watched his back. At first, I thought it was a trick of the light, but I realized that parts of the Back Tree tattoo seemed to pulse slightly with a green glow whenever a candle's wick was lit. I guess the spell had started.

I sat down, drawing my knees up to my chest. I dug into the bag for any more things, but all that was left was the thermos. Probably some liquid courage. 

When all seven candles were lit, Noah sat down next to me. “Nick said we had to drink this," I said, holding up the thermos. I unscrewed the cap and gave it to him and poured what might've been half in it.  

"Cheers,” Noah said hesitantly, clinking the cup to the bottle. I lifted it to take a sip. 

It was not alcohol. 

It tasted… different. The consistency was like tea, but it was sweet and earthy, cloying and pepper-y. It did have a warmth to it as it settled in my stomach.  

“Alright. Now what?” I asked, holding back a burp.  

“I guess we get started?” Noah said, though he sounded unsure. 

I started taking off my jacket when Noah surprised me. “Nick told me about your boundaries.”  

“Huh?”  

“The things that made you uncomfortable?” Noah asked. I stared up at him. “Like, no blowjobs, don't refer to your–"  

"He told you about all that?” I asked, heat rising through my body.  

“Yeah, he also said he would knock my teeth in and not help grow them back if I ignored them,” he said.  

"He would,” I muttered.  

“I told him I wouldn't,” he said. I must've not looked convinced because he sighed. “Taylor, I promise I'll take care of you.” 

The sudden tenderness of that statement caught me off guard. “You… You promise?”  I asked, twisting the hems of the jacket’s sleeves between my fingers.  

He nodded, ducking his head down to touch my forehead with his. “I promise,” he stated.

It barely took anything for him to press his lips to mine. His lips were softer than I expected, taking me by surprise as his lips slanted over mine. Something shot through me, like a lightning strike, causing me to breathlessly gasp.

Suddenly, one of Noah's hands buried into my hair, holding the back of my head as he flicked the seam of my lips with his tongue. I found myself hesitating, my judgement momentarily lapsing. 

Noah must have sensed it before he pulled back. “Tay…?” he asked, his voice barely a whisper.

The sound of my name softly falling from his mouth pulled me back under. I raised my arms and wrapped them around his neck, making him lean down. I felt his free hand sneak around my waist to my lower back, where he pulled me up to where there was no space between our bodies. Earlier I had felt like I was being suffocated being pressed against him; his warmth leeched the cold from the Grove away, and it felt… good. Grounding, even.  

He suddenly pulled away, farther this time, leaving me dazed. "Breathe," he commanded, his voice not affected by our activity. I blinked up at him. His eyes were dark, lit only by the candlelight flickering around us. “We're not continuing until you breathe.”  

That was when I realized that I had been holding my breath for who knows how long. I breathed in for three seconds and exhaled for three more. As I did the same process again, he pressed his lips to my jaw, causing me to falter in distraction. 

After my third attempt to catch my breath, his lips returned to mine, hungrier than before. This time when his tongue pressed to my lips, I opened them with a sigh, letting him lick his way in. He tasted… surprisingly normal. Just the remains of that tea we had drunk. It sent a wave of heat down from my chest to the apex of my thighs.  

I combed my fingers through his wild hair, surprised at how luxurious it felt despite the tangles. It felt like I was making out with a regular person until my hand crept up and brushed against an antler. He groaned into my mouth, running a steadying hand up my spine below the jacket. He didn't pull away, instead muttering into my lips, “Take… Off.” 

It was easy to slip out of Nick's denim jacket. The cool air brushed along my bare arms, causing goosebumps to break out along my skin, until Noah wrapped his arms back around me. We didn't even part as I dropped the jacket somewhere off to the side. 

I felt his fingers run against the hem of my shirt, brushing against the skin of my stomach. I detached with a gasp, and Noah began to pull it upwards, but he was unable to.

The blanket of reality was settling over me, like a slap to the face. I didn't belong here. This place was too ancient, too sacred. And here I was, desecrating it with my human presence; desecrating it by attempting to fuck my partner's demigod best friend. 

“Taylor.”

The voice of said demigod pulled me back from the edge of an anxiety attack. Noah stared at me with concern. He cupped the side of my face, his long fingers nearly reaching the back of my head. 

“Don't think about what's going on outside of here,” he whispered, words hovering in the almost nonexistent space between us. “Stay here with me.”  

His tenderness with me was almost unsettling, but I still nodded. He licked his way back into my mouth, and I gave in to the warmth and melted into his arms. This time it was easier for him to pull my shirt off. 

I found myself reaching up and wrapping a hand around one of his antlers. The texture was as rough as I had expected it to be, like the bark of a tree. What I didn't expect was it to be so warm, almost like the rest of him. I tried to use my grip on it to pull myself up; at least put us on equal playing ground. 

He moved his hands down to my hips, pressing his fingers into the flesh behind them, and he pushed me down across his lap. I gasped as I felt the hardness beneath his jeans. Before I could try to pull myself up, he was pushing me back until my bare back was pressed into the soft blanket. 

He crouched over me and looked me up and down, like a predator that had just caught its prey. “Look at you,” Noah muttered, more to himself. He lightly dragged a finger down my body, from my collarbone to my belly button. I unconsciously squirmed, almost missing what he said next. “I knew I should've asked Nick for a turn before this.”

“What–” I tried to speak, but he silenced me with his lips pressing to mine once more. Heat simmered in my veins, turning molten and flowing down though my body. 

He pulled away and kissed my chin, then under my jaw, and then my throat. He trailed his kisses down until he got to my collarbone where I felt a quick sting. I hissed at the sensation until he sucked at the mark.

“Wanna mark you,” he muttered into my skin.  “Wanna make everyone know you belong to the Watcher of the Woods.”  

A needy sound left my throat, and I felt him smile against my skin. "Mmm, I bet you'd like that, huh?” he asked. He trailed downwards, sucking multiple blooms in his wake. He paused at one of my nipples, taking it between his lips and swirling his tongue around it. 

I mewled at the sensation, arching into his chest when he sucked. “N-Noah.” At the uttering of his name, he released my chest with a small pop. He looked up at me through his lashes as he trailed light nips down my stomach. 

Noah hooked his fingers into the waistband of my jeans and tugged them down. His large hands stroked briefly down my legs, one running over my tattoo-covered scar. He brought his hands back up and this time took my underwear down with him.  

He sat back and looked over me, tilting his head. I shifted, prepping myself up on my elbows. “What?” I asked, heat rising to my face. The scrutiny in his eyes was starting to make me feel uncomfortable. 

“Gimme a second. It's… been awhile,” he said.

His hand trailed up the front of my left leg until he wrapped his fingers around the back of my knee. Lifting my leg up, he tenderly placed a kiss on my ankle. He then trailed his mouth slowly up my leg, his kisses getting wetter the higher they went. I felt my heart rate increase the closer he got to where I wanted him.  

When he reached the crease of my thigh, he moved to kiss my navel, earning a choked sound from me. As he trailed his kisses down the other leg, I tried wiggling my hips to move him. Instead, his hands roughly grabbed my hips and held them down. 

"Relax, lil rabbit. Lemme have my fun,” he said. 

“For someone who claims that it’s ‘been a while’,” I tried to say calmly, “you sure do seem to enjoy–” 

My complaint was cut off when his lips pressed to the bundle of nerves between my thighs. My words choked off and increased in pitch when he moved one of his hands from my hip to my thigh, pulling it outward as he flattened his tongue against the bud.  

“Fuck, fucking fu–” once again my words changed to a moan when he lightly sucked my clit in between his lips to tease at it with his tongue, a move that felt like it had to be illegal in the state of Virginia. Jesus fucking Christ, how did he know how to move his tongue like that– 

I felt the heat in my body intensify until a sheen of sweat coated my skin. I could barely think how and why he had me so close so fast just with his tongue alone.  Another swipe and my fingers curled into the blanket with a white-knuckle grip.  

When he teased my hole with the tip of his tongue, I knew I was gone. “Noah, Noah, Noah shit shit I'm gonna–!” A pulse rippled through my body, and my hips jerked but got nowhere thanks to his grip. He gently licked me as I rode it out, tapering my climax until he slowly pulled away to leave sticky open-mouth kisses to my inner thighs. My thighs twitched with every kiss. 

What the fuck.  

“Illegal in the state of Virginia, huh?” His voice broke through my blissful haze as I tried to recover from the earth-shattering orgasm.  

“Shut up,” I said between labored breaths. I lifted a trembling hand and swatted him on the back of his head. "Don't read my mind." I flopped back down onto the ground, boneless and satiated.

Or… maybe not. 

The ache between my thighs was still present; the warmth from earlier still settled in my gut. It was like my body wasn't satisfied yet. I wanted - no, needed more from Noah. 

He must’ve also been unsatisfied, as I felt his lips trail back up my thighs. I didn't give it a second thought at first until I flinched from his tongue lapping at my entrance. “Noah, what're you–”  

He dove right back in, ungodly sounds coming from him. I gasped out “No-ah, waiiit.” I moaned loudly as his tongue pushed further in. My fingers dug back into their place into the blanket until Noah pried one of them out and maneuvered it to the top of his head. 

Somewhere in the back of my mind, I felt a pang as muscle memory took over and my fingers wove through his hair. Nick liked it when I pulled his hair when he ate me out.  

I let Noah's hair slip through my fingers, wrapped my hand around one of his antlers instead. I pulled on it slightly, earning a moan from him. The vibrations from it caused me to shudder violently. 

I looked down at him at the same time he opened his eyes and stared up at me. All I could see in them was the candle’s flicker. I watched him move his hand from my thigh to my center as his mouth focused solely on my clit. He slid a finger into my entrance, causing my neck to give out and my head to fall back as a wave of pleasure rose over me.  

FUCK, YOU TASTE SO FUCKING GOOD.  

The sound of his voice in my head startled me. That's when I realized he had slid in a second finger at the same time he curled them up in tandem with sucking on my clit. My toes curled, the heat in my core flamed higher and higher.

“Noah, I'm gonna–”  

DO IT.  

“Noah, oh god–” 

NO, IT'S JUST ME.  

With a few more curls of his fingers, he pulled my orgasm free. My thighs shook and clenched as the pleasure crashed down on me, and he continued to lick me through my aftershocks as if he didn't want to miss a single to drop. I tugged on his antlers to pull him away, and he finally parted with a whiny huff.

I fell back to the ground, dizzy and panting as I tried to catch my breath. I stared up at the canopy of leaves blocking the night sky. The shadows created by the candle flames worsened my dizziness, and I shut my eyes. I could just barely hear Noah sitting up, as if he was miles away. He had said something, but I couldn't focus on him.  

HEY. YOU OKAY?  

His voice in my head helped bring me back to earth. I opened my eyes to see him hovering over me, his body slotted in between my legs. It might’ve been just me, but the light flickering over his face made him seem otherworldly; the shadows messing with my eyes seemed to make his antlers twist and turn, seemingly growing. 

“Yeah… yeah, I’m good…” I said, taking in deep breaths. 

The corner of his mouth lifted in his signature smirk, and he quickly vanished from view. 

I closed my eyes as I heard him rustling around, but it wasn't long before I felt Noah's presence again. “Don't go falling asleep on me now,” he said out loud. His voice sounded rougher. I opened my eyes again. 

Strands of his hair framing his face were stuck to his cheeks. I stroked my fingers along the skin, pushing back some of the hair behind his ear. The gesture was soft, shocking me a little, as well as him by the look on his face. He shifted and the hair fell back down into his face.

I felt his skin press to mine, and my body tensed up as he began to wrap my legs around his hips. He leaned down, kissing me passionately, and my worries melted away until there was only the carnal urge to have him inside me. I widened my legs a little bit.

I tried to pull away to ask him to hurry up, but he beat me to it.  

PLEASE… LET ME... FUCK, I NEED YOU SO MUCH.  

He sounded so desperate. I'd never seen this side of him before, so needy and vulnerable. Like the demigod persona had peeled back and I was witnessing the human man beyond the glass.

“Yes… Noah, please,” I muttered.

He took himself in hand and lined himself up, and the feeling of the head of his cock pushing into me made me gasp. He was gentle, working inside of me slowly as if he didn't want to break me. Our eyes met, and I could watch his reactions. I could see his patience slowly crumbling with every keen sigh that left my body.

When he was fully inside me, hips pressed to mine, he paused to let out a long breath he had been holding. He rested his forehead on mine, his antlers scraping beside my head. His eyes squeezed shut, and he was seemingly frozen.

"Noah?" I whispered to him. He made a noise that almost sounded pained, slightly shaking his head. His hair fell over us, obscuring the forest from view. It felt like we were the only ones out here.

"Noah," I said a little bit more firmly.  

I… I CAN'T. 

“What do you mean–” Speaking out loud seemed to be blasphemous in this space. What do you mean, you can’t?  

YOU FEEL SO GOOD I DON'T THINK I CAN KEEP CONTROL OVER MYSELF IF I–

Noah... I lifted my hand up to cup his cheek. His eyelids fluttered open, and even in the darkness, I could see that they were no longer his dark brown. They seemed to glow with a soft green light, like his tattoos earlier. Let go.  

At those words, Noah looked at me as if I was hand delivered by the Devil himself. He then pulled out halfway, only to push back in. He was still deliberately holding back. As he moved, I could feel the growl coming from his chest rather than hear it. Every push seemed to anchor me into the ground. 

Noah buried his face into my neck, alternating between kissing and biting the skin as he whimpered with each drag in and out. I gripped onto his shoulders, trying to find purchase with every thrust. I'm sure I was leaving scratch marks, but he didn’t seem to mind.

It was after a rough thrust that had me crying out that I felt something tickle my nose. I brushed it away, thinking it was his hair. When it happened again, I opened my eyes to see that it was small white flower buds that were brushing my face. His antlers were sprouting flowers. 

I laughed out loud at the realization, causing Noah to pause. He pulled away, confused at first, but then he saw what I was laughing about. He grinned and violently shook his head, causing the tiny flowers to rain down on me, and my laughs turned to joyous shrieks.

“Come on, Noah,” I said breathlessly. “I said let go. I can take it.”

His demeanor shifted suddenly, and he looked down at me with his eerily glowing eyes.

NOT ENOUGH, HUH? 

Noah's hands slid down to my waist and he pulled me up off the ground. I yelped as he balanced back and propped me on his hips, roughly thrusting back into me. I cried out as he kept up that pace, holding me up with just his arms. “Noah, I'm gonna–!”

YOU'RE NOT GONNA FALL, I GOT YOU.

He finally sounded wrecked in my head, and his actual voice was reduced to swearing and choked sounds. I wrapped my arms around his neck, burying my face into the crook of his shoulder to muffle the sounds I made as he bounced me up and down on his cock. 

COME ON, I WANNA HEAR THOSE PRETTY LITTLE SOUNDS. 

I pulled away then, and as he opened his mouth, I cupped his face in the palms of my hands to pull him in to kiss him. He pried my lips open with his own as he thrusted upward, hitting a spot in me that had me biting his lip hard enough to draw blood. The taste was sweet and metallic, and I'm sure he could taste it as well as our tongues met. A hand left my lower back to curl into the tangled mess of my hair, pressing me closer to him. 

I clenched around him and he groaned.  

FUCKING HELL, LITTLE RABBIT, YOU FEEL SO GOOD. 

The snap of his hips was falling out of rhythm; he was getting close.  

YEAH, SO CLOSE… SO CLOSE. TOUCH YOURSELF… FOR ME, PLEASE…  

My hand left his back, sliding down his tattooed chest to slip in between our bodies. It was awkward going, and I accidently brushed his nipple with my little finger which made him jump. The movement hit something in me, and I almost screamed.  

My fingers finally made the rest of the way down, dipping between my thighs to circle my swollen clit. I twitched and clenched at the same time he thrusted and hit that spot inside of me again. My third climax of the night hit me like a lightning bolt, burning me from the inside out. 

I cried out, squeezing my eyes shut until I fell limp into his arms. Noah snapped his hips up one, two, three more times before I felt him spill into me, a loud gasp leaving him. 

I clung onto him with what little strength I had left, trembling as I tried to collect my thoughts and my breath. I could feel our mixed arousal dripping out of me, but neither of us seemed to care at the moment. I groggily opened my eyes, realizing how dark it was. The candles had been blown out somehow, half-melted as if we’d been at it for hours and hours.  

Noah shifted a little bit, slipping out of me despite my small whimper of complaint. He laid me down on the ground, straightening the blanket around me. I closed my eyes, dizzy once again.  

I could hear him rustling around again. I might’ve passed out for a little bit, because it was with a jolt I felt something wet between my legs. When I opened my eyes, I saw him cleaning me with some wet cloth. It was too dark to tell. 

Exhaustion washed over me, and I weakly reached out for Noah. He paused but eventually took my hand and surrendered himself to lay beside me. I curled into his warmth as he pulled the blanket over to cover us both. I snuck my arm around the wide mass of his torso, smoothing my fingers over the scratches I had left. Instead of the sweat-slick softness of skin, I realized that the areas around the marks had turned into the texture of tree bark.  

I let myself soak in the afterglow of the moment, knowing full well that in the morning I would be delivered back to Nick, and everything would go back to normal.

Except, with a pang, a tiny part of me knew that nothing would go back to normal. Not after this. 

A chill skittered down my spine, but not from the cold though. I shuddered as that realization hit me like a truck, but when Noah brushed a hand over my hair and made an inquiring noise, I shoved the thought to the back of my mind and kept still.  

For now, everything was alright. For now, everything would be okay.

tysm for reading! If you enjoyed this, please reblog to share the word of the Revered Father. Next chapter coming soon.

Featured Creatures

@ladyveronikawrites @lilhobgobbler @deathblacksmoke @cookiesupplier @thatchickwiththecamera 

@roley-poley-foley @hedonists @philomenie @shilohrosechicken @comforting-madness 

@sitkowski @screamsinsilver @darksigns-exe @nojoyontheburn @baddestomens 

@poisongirl616 

[mysticdoodlez]

Whelp.

It's about that time.

Just a reminder tho that it'll be posted on my fic blog, @aplaceinthedark

If you'd like to be on LftM's Featured Creatures list, leave a comment or reblog with the blog you'd like me to tag.

[ninja-knox-ur-sox-off]

Hedghodg Snugglz

[keferon]

This is a cybertronian. He’s 2 hours old so we made him look like a child. A lil baby robot. All cute and basically just like a human kid. <- the thing I see everywhere

This is a cybertronian. He’s 2 hours old but he looks like a grown ass adult, strong just like an adult and can already transform into a jet even though he has just one brain cell and no fucking idea how to fly. <- the thing I desperately hope to read about one day even though I haven’t seen it to be properly explored even once

[a-scary-lack-of-common-sense]

More of Stanley's sketchbook because he makes me sick /pos

(Just imagine he was looking in a mirror at the subway to draw this anshfhwj. The london bus ticket is unrelated, it's just a random knick knack he had lying around<3)

People weren't the only ones Stan met on the streets.

------

+ this is an absolute fucking batshit WILD oneshot I initially wrote for these drawings that got WAY out of hand, if you feel like reading that.

The oneshot below is a stand-alone now, and in no way is related to the drawings above, but I just wanted to show you guys because Jesus Christ

------

Winter of 1981, at a subway station Stan doesn't remember the name of-

The sorry excuse of a transport system that this hellhole of a city called a functioning subway was hardly anyone's first choice of a warm place to stay the night. And yet, here Stanley was; standing like an idiot in the middle of a small bustling stairwell that led down to the full screeching chaos of a train stop on a Tuesday evening. A rowdy crowd of exhausted office workers streamed out like a tidal wave from the entrance of the station, the bustle of their footsteps all too eager to go home and relax after a long day of work.

The faint, stuffy stench of old piss and sweat followed the crowd to the surface from the deep depths of a less than sanitary and overcrowded train station. The pungent smell intermingled with the crisp stinging winter air in a cocktail of shitty city gloom often associated with this time of the year; when the holidays were too far away and the sun seemed to come and go with practically the same 9 to 5 schedule as the workers had, leaving them going to work in the pitch dark and coming back out in the inky black as well.

He might have looked like he belonged there, depending on how one would want to look at it. He stuck out like a sore thumb amongst the sea of prim, pressed suits and neart uniforms. His ratty old jacket and generally unwashed appearance certainly didn’t help his case, but he also knew that stations like these also tended to shelter quite a number of homeless wanderers like him, especially during the winter. So, it wasn't exactly uncommon to see other sore thumbs seeking reprieve from the biting cold and the dangerous likelihood of frostbite from within the enclosed walls of the subway station.

Heck, if most of these underground kingdoms didn't also happen to be a breeding ground for several illicit activities, he might even have followed their lead. But, believe it or not, Stanley's already had enough experience with illegal activities to last him a last time, and he isn't looking for a new fill. He was satisfied with what meager shelter his trusty car offered him, as little a difference it might make in terms of safety.

Stanley's obstruction of the already narrow stairs with his loitering went unappreciated, as shoulders roughly shoved past him and swinging briefcases repeatedly bumped into his sides, usually coupled with a nasty glare and a snide comment or two. He paid them no mind, however. He wasn't here to start a fight with some random bum with a dead end job, as much as he thought it would probably do them both some good to duke their stresses out on one another.

The hours ticked by with wave after wave of new crowds being dropped off by a train and left to pour out of the station into the streets. By the time the streetlights turned on and the pale pink in the sky slowly faded to make way for the stark glittery black of the night sky, the tide of people had slowed to a trickle and rush hour was long since over. He was now the stairs’ sole occupier, with a few occasional stragglers stumbling up the steps and hurrying past him without a second glance.

Stanley did not move from his spot, however. He stood resolutely in the middle of the stairway, fervently rubbing his arms and stamping his feet in a futile attempt to try and regain feeling in his extremities as he waited. Rocking on his heels, he titled his head backwards to let his eyes roam the constellations that carpeted the endless expanse of the sky stretched out above his head, almost losing himself in the scintillating canvas of stars.

It reminded him of old times; of the sparkling beach sand twinkling in the dim moonlight, and the soft sound of lilting waves hovering in the background as he lay back on the cold wooden deck of his ship and watched the stars dance.

He still remembered every name his brother had once recited to him time and time again as he pointed out each star and galaxy from the night sky.

Then, like clockwork, he was broken out of his reveries by a telltale meow coming from below. The sound was a familiar blanket that immediately melted away the tension that had begun to build in his chest as he practically sagged with relief.

His body moved almost automatically as he leaned down to detach the frail tabby cat that was attempting to literally fuse with his legs, purring up a storm and rubbing her head against his pants as though her life depended on it. The cat gave a soft chirrup of dissatisfaction at being manhandled, which Stanley absentmindedly replied with a chiding click of his tongue as he lifted her up his chest and gently tucked her into his jacket in a practiced motion.

She thankfully remained blissfully limp in his grasp as he shifted around some more so that she was nestled comfortably inside the dark pocket of warmth inside his ratty jacket. The tiny warm lump that rumbled contently against his front radiated with heat, and his fingers finally began to feel like actual fingers rather than useless stiff frigid lumps of meat and bone attached to his palms.

A pointed cough startled him from his clumsy wriggling to get the cat to settle down. An oddly familiar security guard stood at the entrance of the station at the bottom of the stairs, leveling Stanley an unimpressed look with the metal gate in his grip already halfway closed, ready to seal the subway for the night. He must have been a comical sight; caught awkwardly bent over while trying to get his newly acquired cat to stop kneading biscuits on his stomach, with said cat peeking out from the gap between his collars.

Stanley faintly recognized the guard. He was a much older man, with a shock of thinning white hair neatly tucked underneath a dark blue cap and a strange depth in his eyes that reminded Stanley of the sea; with countless unspoken truths lurking far beneath the surface, but no less grand and knowing of all that the universe had to offer, as though he had already lived a thousand lives before this one.

He had seen the man around before, at another station, doing the opposite of his job by ushering stray buskers and homeless stragglers from the streets and into the (relatively) safe walls of the subway, instead of doing what any other law-abiding security guard would do and kick them out into the elements. He wasn't sure what the older man was doing here, of all places, since all the previous stations he'd seen the man at had been several states over, practically on the other side of the country.

A brief spark of panic shot through his spine at the thought that this man could be following him, but he quickly discarded the ridiculous notion as soon as it entered his mind. He had never even seen him before, and hardly ever even interacted with him; there was no reason for there to be any sort of bad blood between them. Unless he happened to be related to one of Stanley's many, many enemies, then perhaps his fear was a little warranted.

However, the old guard made no move to attack or do anything other than stare judgmentally, almost expectantly. For the first time in a long time, Stanley felt like a child being caught doing something he wasn't supposed to do. He tried his best to keep his uncomfortable squirming to a minimum under the unrelenting gaze, stubbornly returning the man's gaze with his own wary glare. His cat’s muffled whining came from inside his jacket. The traitor, she was leaving him to deal with the old man on his own.

With an exasperated jerk of his head, the security guard gestured towards the inside of the station. For a moment, Stanley stared dumbly, uncomprehending of what the old man could possibly want from him. Rolling his eyes, this time the man gestured more insistently at the small gap that still remained between the metal gate and the entrance, his arm sweeping the air in a low arc as he dramatically urged Stanley inside. Suddenly, it clicked, and Stanley shook his head.

“I have a car,” he said plainly, his voice echoing loudly in the desolate silence of the winter night that surrounded the unlikely pair.

He wasn't sure why he was so nervous, it wasn't as though he was lying. He did have a car, his trusty Stanley-mobile was parked safely away in the corner of an unassuming alley that wasn't often frequented by anyone. There was no way he was reaching it tonight, though; it was practically on the other side of the city, much too far away for him to arrive at a reasonable time. His nightly excursions to meet his small friend unfortunately left him with no other choice than to leave his car behind, the hunk of metal far too unwieldy and noticeable to drive around openly on the streets. He never knew who could be watching, after all.

He had simply been hoping to find himself a dark corner to tuck himself into with his cat, just for the night, but it seemed as though the universe had other plans. Or rather, this strange old man had other plans.

Although, if Stanley thought about it, the subway wasn't such a bad suggestion. This was one of the safer stations in the city; and with the rich neighborhoods being so close by, no rogue criminal or dealers dared to come near this area unless they wanted to be slapped with a hefty fine or face a higher potential to be arrested. And of course, there was the obvious shelter from the unrelenting cold that now seemed to permeate his bones, even with the purring warmth that was nestled inside his jacket.

So, that was how he found himself hunkering down for the night inside a shabby old subway station, with a satisfied cat still rumbling away against his chest and a strange old security guard locking down the gates behind him. The man said nothing as he hooked his keys back onto his belt and gave a firm pat on Stanley's shoulders as he walked past him, pausing to scratch his cat behind her ears before moving away. His footsteps bounced off of the grimy tiled walls with an odd reverb as he turned a corner.

“You'll be safe in here,” the man said, voice sage and gravelly. The words had a weight to them, and seemed to hang in the air with such a presence it was as though the old man had never even left his side.

The subway was empty, quiet. It was such a stark contrast to the loud rowdiness of the rush hour crowd these halls once held. Stanley hadn't yet registered the utter silence of the station as he aimlessly made his way down the winding, deserted halls of the ancient station. He mindlessly walked past the aged and peeling advertising posters plastered on the walls, his nose becoming accustomed to the stinging stench of the subway. The quiet seemed to swallow the sound of his steps as he explored the branching paths and endless tunnels. They were almost kaleidoscopic, dizzying, nonsensical. There were doors where there shouldn't be, and deadends where it didn't make sense.

The silence only began to truly settle in his bones the more he walked. He suddenly wished that he would head the telltale footsteps of the old security guard again, just to hear another sign of life in this underground hellscape other than himself. The ghostly memories of screeching trains and bustling crowds haunted the halls; now, only nothingness reigned supreme. He glanced down at his small feline companion, who slumbered away against his chest, blissfully unaware of his jackrabbiting heartbeat threatening to burst out of his ribs. The silence seemed to permeate every inch of space and crush the air out of his lungs. He couldn't breathe.

Stanley’s steps grew faster, more frantic as the walls and ceilings seemed to close in on him. They grew smaller, tighter; squeezing, trapping. He hardly even registered his cat's complaints as she was jostled around in his grasp, breaking into a full out run. His breathing sounded loud, too loud, and the world was collapsing around him.

When he finally broke out into a large, open platform, he could finally breathe again. He had arrived at the tracks, the empty tunnel where the trains would pass an empty, gaping maw in the wall that seemed to swallow all light around it and beckon him closer. He felt his cat wriggle out from within his jacket and hop out with a displeasured yowl, scampering away and disappearing behind a corner much like the old man had. True silence pierced his ears and thrummed like a deafening pressure in his temples. He was alone.

Stanley was stuck in that subway station for years.

[justaz]

merlin gets sick. like. bad sick. maybe its a curse maybe its natural idk all i know is that merlin gets sick. he has a fever so high he is somewhat delirious. his whole body hurts. he feels like death. he ends up traversing the castle to enter arthur’s chambers and climbs into bed next to him. he was in pain and felt like shit and in his delirious state, he went to the one person who could always offer him comfort. arthur wakes to find merlin curled up next to him, his tunic fisted tightly in his hand as if to keep arthur where he was. gaius quietly walks in and extracts merlin from the bed, apologizing and explaining that merlin was ill and delirious with the fever. merlin is being tugged out of bed, away from arthur.

he’s fighting as best he can which, considering he’s sick, isn’t that good as gaius doesn’t even blink. then merlin is being dragged across the room, away from arthur and his body heat which was chasing away the chills and his touch was easing his pain. merlin starts complaining, whining more like, about how he wants arthur. gaius apologizes again and says he’ll send for a replacement to serve him before finally getting merlin out of arthur’s chambers and back to his own bed. gaius steps out for an hour to retrieve herbs from the town and returns to finds arthur curled around merlin in his little cot in his room, merlin fisting arthur’s tunic and arthur’s hand rubbing up and down merlin’s back.

[camembri]

you wanted zoro to be on whole cake island to fulfil your weird desire to see zoro punish sanji. I wanted zoro on whole cake island because I think he's stupid enough to right place wrong time the plan and accidentally marry Sanji in full view of the whole wedding party in what becomes the most elaborately constructed comedy of errors ever written. we are NOT the same.

[otaku553]

New blorbo :)

Also a silly interaction with this piece

[illbegottenfaith]

maybe stay here forever (inspired by packing it up by gracie abrams)

the holidays have you feeling sentimental over yours and theo's relationship (theo nott x reader)

a/n - 100 followers in a little over a month is very much insane for me, and like any other writer I rlly appreciate every interaction with my fics <3 also im trying to work on making mutuals (esp with other writers!) but man it does NOT help that im so incurably shy, anyways enjoy!!

tropes/warnings - tw descriptions of grief and anxiety, established relationship, domestic bliss, more angst than I anticipated, an outtake ft. petty!theo throwing down with a 13-year-old

word count - 2.6k

"Y/N! PHONE!”

You placed your butterbeer down with a thunk, weaving your way from your table to the telephone at the counter. Your friend Ivy handed it to you before disappearing into the crowd. You knew who it was even before pressing your ear to the receiver.

“This is highly illegal, as you very well know,” you said breathlessly. "Randy hates anyone using his phone."

“Relax. Ivy said he's gone into the back.”

Even through a telephone line, your boyfriend's voice gave you a giddy sort of thrill. Still, you glanced at the back door anxiously. “For now. What’s up?”

“Oh, nothing. Just wanted to hear you sound deliciously panicky.”

“Unbelievable. I’m risking being banned from Hogsmeade’s only pub for nothing?”

“What’s the point of having a girlfriend,” Theo wanted to know, “if she won’t enable your illegal endeavours?”

You rolled your eyes. “So, did you manage a game between the four of you?”

“Eh. It was…something. I’m not sure if anyone would call it Quidditch, though.”

“Oh?”

“You should join us next time. The flying, screaming - you’d love it.”

"Rude." The one time Theo had managed to wheedle you into at least trying to play Quidditch with him and some of your friends had not ended very well for you. In your defense, heading straight for the ground sounded like a much safer option than waiting around to be hit by a Bludger.

“You’re still watching the back door, aren’t you?”

You stiffened, eyes sweeping across the crowded pub. He wasn’t here, was he? He did love messing with you. You shook yourself. Of course not, you were using the only telephone in the vicinity. “Am not,” you sniffed injuredly. "Anyway, what are you up to now?"

"I'm about to go down to the shops to run your errands. What did you need, again?"

"Butterbeer fla - are you writing this down?"

"No need, I'll remember."

You frowned. "Teddy, you always say that, and you always forget something."

"Not this time. Shoot."

You huffed. With how aggravating Theo could be, he was lucky he had such a pretty face. "Butterbeer flavoured popcorn, for the popcorn garlands. If they only have regular, don't bother, I have bags and bags of those. New Christmas lights, because one of the bulbs blew out. Wrapping paper, someone's bound to need it. Hm, what else...that disgusting peppermint tea you love - "

"I don't love peppermint tea. It's...it's not bad, that's all."

"Fibber. You cleaned us out last year."

"And I'll do it again if you keep throwing around these unlawful accusations."

You rolled your eyes. "Oh, listen - bring Mattheo along with you, will you?"

Having just broken up with his girlfriend, Matteo's Christmas plans fell through at the last minute. You couldn't help it was in your nature to worry. You heard the distant rustle of parchment crackle over the phone. Ah - ha, fibber indeed. "Alright, but for the last time, he's doing perfectly fine on his own." You heard him folding the list up. "He's a grown man, Y/N."

Your tone turned reproachful. "It's the holidays. No one should have to spend the holidays alone, remember?"

"Don't you have your own friends to fret over?"

"They're all going home. You only have yourself to blame for being within arm's reach, you know."

"If I'd known you were going to be this meddlesome I'd have stayed far, far away."

"Please. Like you could have resisted my charms."

You could imagine the teasing look he'd be giving you.

"Speaking of charms, how does a charm bracelet sound? Would you like that?"

You sighed. For some reason, you were having a particularly difficult time thinking of something to ask for this Christmas. You kept putting it off, and now it was less than two weeks away. Theo was doing his best to help, though it did get a bit grating when he'd point out every item in a shop one by one.

"I still don't know," you said helplessly. "Rain-check? Again?"

"Fine. But you don't have much time left." You heard him unfolding the list. "So, for today, butterbeer flavoured popcorn, Christmas lights, wrapping paper and peppermint tea?"

"Yep. Thanks, Teddy."

"Anything for you, doll." Theo cleared his throat and dropped his voice a couple of pitches.

"So what are the odds I can convince you to wear that green little number to tonight's party?"

You grinned at the pub counter flirtatiously. "I don't know. How badly do you want to see me in it?"

Theo groaned. "Going to make me beg for it, baby?"

"In a manner of speaking." You glanced back at the back door, just in case. "Haven't you learned? Sweet-talking will get you everywhere with me." Your eyes drifted to your table, where Ivy was impatiently waving you over. "Damn. I have to go. Ivy looks like she's about to have a coronary."

"Wearthedre-"

You wore the dress. You could be cruel, but not that cruel. It was a cosy sort of party, with friends and friends of friends milling around. You were sitting in Theo's lap on one of the couches, the two of you trying to talk over the music.

" - and so I said to Ivy, if he can't be bothered to even say hi when there's other people around, then that shows how little respect he has for you, and he'll only get worse the more you let him get away with it, and - and I'm rambling."

Theo's mouth quirked into that special smile he reserved just for you. "Only a little. It's very becoming, if that's what you're worried about."

"Yeah, right."

"It is, but only because it's coming from you."

You fiddled with Theo's hair, trying to fix a cowlick of his. "So what did you do today?"

"We got the popcorn, the tea, the wrapping paper. Matteo got a little too excited with the lights."

You raised your eyebrows. "Do tell."

"Mind you, he's never shopped for anything in his life. He has house elves for that."

"Kind of like you when we first met," you teased lightly.

"I don't think he was expecting so many options. He kept winding each type around his limbs to compare. I think the insulation was faulty on one of them so he got a mild electrical shock."

You gasped. "Is he okay?"

"Yeah, as far as I could tell. I think he kind of liked it, to be honest."

"Of course he did." You wrinkled your nose. "Then what did you do?"

"Freed him, obviously."

"And then?"

"Then we got the same lights we always do."

"And then?"

Theo shook his head, bemused, and tugged at a lock of your hair. "And then nothing. And then we left. And then I changed and came straight up to the party to find my nuisance of a girlfriend."

You laughed. Theo wasn't being particularly funny, but it was hot and your hair was sticking to the back of your neck and you were high off the thrill that came with being perfectly in sync with your favourite person. In short, you were too buzzed to care. You were flushed, either from the alcohol or the feel of Theo's hand steadily creeping up your thigh.

"I have some bad news, though."

You sat up and scowled. "What?"

"I couldn't get us out of my family's Christmas dinner."

You groaned. You had half a mind to drown Theo in what was left of your drink.

"C'mon, Y/N," he cajoled, "iwe'll only be there a couple of days. Tis the season of giving."

"Sure, I'll give them a push down the stairs."

Theo stifled a snort and plucked the drink out of your hand. "Okay, that's enough punch for you. Speaking of..." He glanced somewhere behind you, sitting up a little and, frustratingly, pulled his hand off your thigh. "The punch bowl might need refilling."

"Don't," you whined, dragging his hand back to where it was a moment ago. "Let Enzo do it. We don't get to see enough of each other as it is."

Theo sighed. "So you're just never going to let me leave?"

"I can't help it," you said, "I like the way you speak. I love hearing you talk." You rested your forehead against his, your eyes fluttering close. "Promise you'll never quit talking to me."

"Done," he murmured against your lips, a hand sliding to the small of your back.

Hours later, you felt yourself stirring. It was the middle of the night, long after the two of you had gone to bed. You regretfully peeled your eyes open, trying to figure out what had woken you up.

Theo was lying next to you. It took a few more blinks to see that he was breathing harder than normal, the moonlight filtering through the window casting a sickly pallor on his face. His breathing quickened till it bordered on hyperventilating, a restlessness spreading through his body as he uselessly clenched at the sheets.

The first night you had witnessed this, you had gone absolutely ballistic. You thought he was having a seizure. After an awkward conversation between a highly uncomfortable Theo and a panic-stricken you, you learned that it wasn't its first, or last, occurrence.

They weren't nightmares, exactly. If they were, Theo would forget them by the time he was shaken awake, and only the residual tremour in his limbs would be left. They were more akin to bouts of subconscious panic and despair surfacing from the recesses of his mind. Some nights, he recovered quickly, falling back to sleep in under an hour. Other nights, you'd hear him creep out of the room so as not to wake you while he whiled away the hours to dawn.

As hard as Theo tried, bless him, he struggled to put an explanation for these attacks into words. You guessed that it might have something to do with the sudden, unexpected departure of certain loved ones from his life after one mildly confusing fight. You had slipped out of bed early one morning, while Theo was still asleep, to get a headstart on your work for the day. A couple of hours later, when he found you in the Slytherin common room and immediately started going off on you, still in his pajamas, you found out how much waking up in an empty bed freaked Theo out.

Now, you shoved Theo hard on the shoulder. His eyes flew open, anxiously twitchy, as his breathing started slowing down. Still half-asleep, you snuggled up to him, pressing an ear to his chest. You could hear his heart pounding under his T-shirt. After a moment or so, once he'd recovered from the shock, he tentatively wrapped his arms around you.

You squeezed an arm around him as well. "'M here," you mumbled into his shirt. You could feel him taking deep breaths, forcing himself to calm down as he distractedly stroked your hair. Slowly, bit by bit, you felt him relax around you as you started to doze off. There the both of you stayed, a tangle of limbs, till the morning.

one year ago

You were sitting in the Astronomy Tower one chilly autumn night, having escaped from the party your friends had dragged you to. The holidays had just begun, and in the coming days, most people would be going home or carrying out their respective plans. Most people didn't include you. This year, more than anything, you wanted to be alone. Your friends assumed you were going home for the holidays, and your family assumed you were spending them with your friends at Hogwarts, and to be completely honest, you didn’t see the need to correct either of them.

You looked up, straining your ears as you heard disembodied footsteps approaching you. A minute later, Theodore Nott emerged from the shadows.

“Mind if I join you?”

You shook your head as Theo settled with his back against a pillar, stretching one overly-long leg towards you while bending the other. You had seen him at the party for the first fifteen minutes you were there. He looked delightfully comfortable in a loose, casual denim button-down. It felt a little odd to think of him as an acquaintance when you saw him nearly weekly while your other friends caught up. But at the same time, there was a tinge of awkwardness in the silence stretching out between the two of you. You weren’t even sure if he knew your name. Now, he was pulling a pack of cigarettes out of his jean pocket.

“Is it okay if I -?”

You shrugged wordlessly, still in a bit of a daze. As far as you could remember, you had never been in a one-on-one setting with Theo. It wasn’t that you avoided each other; it just never came to it. You had plenty of mutual friends acting as a buffer between you two.

All you knew about him was that your families’ tax brackets were far apart enough to mean you’d likely never see him again after Hogwarts. And after getting bruised and beaten by one too many failed relationships, you were kind of over trying to reach out or connect with new people.

And so Theodore's familial prestige was all you took note of. That, you thought as you watched him sigh in relief after the first drag of his cigarette, and his mildly concerning nicotine addiction.

You risked a sidelong glance at him to find him unabashedly looking right at you. But with him sitting perpendicular to you, you were in his direct eye line. Where else was he supposed to look? Literally anywhere else, you wished, as you returned his gaze with an awkward half-smile.

“So, Y/N,” Theo was saying, tapping ash off his cigarette. So he did know your name. You decided then that you were right - you had never been in such an intimate capacity with him before. After all, you weren’t one to forget someone saying your name like…like that. Like he harboured some secret fascination with it, from the way he let it linger on his tongue. “Any special holiday plans?”

You shook your head wordlessly. Theo gave a slight frown.

“You do speak, don’t you?”

You scoffed. “…yes. Obviously.” He’d seen you talk in front of him. Maybe not to him, but he knew you could speak perfectly fine. Your tongue currently feeling like cardboard was an entirely separate mystery.

“Going home?”

You hesitated. Theo was neither friend nor family, but for some inexplicable reason, that made it all the more difficult to lie to him. You blamed it on the smoke, it must have been making you nauseous. That, or his relentlessly demanding stare.

“I only ask because Ivy mentioned you were.”

You gave him a look, mildly peeved. If he already knew, what was he prodding around for? The cooler, more rational part of your mind pointed out that he might just have been trying to make polite conversation, and that a normal person who didn’t keep secrets like you wouldn’t be having this kind of a reaction.

“Yeah. I leave…soon.” Not for the holidays, though.

“That’s funny,” Theo continued pleasantly, “because I heard you mention to Matteo that you were staying here with the girls.”

You froze. Crap. How were you going to explain your way out of this one?

“So?” You couldn’t keep the defensive edge out of your voice. Maybe if you acted confident enough, he wouldn’t realise anything was amiss.

“So…you’re lying to someone.” He tapped his cigarette again, irritatingly casual, as if you were only discussing the weather.

“Why are you so interested in my holiday plans anyway?” you asked crossly, pulling your cardigan tighter around you as a chilly breeze started picking up.

Theo raised his eyebrows. He had the gall to look thrown off, as if he wasn’t the one pursuing the topic.

“People don’t normally lie about their holiday plans. You do realise that, right?”

Oddly enough, something in his tone made you feel embarrassed over being caught in a lie. Scratch that, it was embarrassing to have Theodore Nott catch you in a lie. What for, anyway? He was hardly the most honest person himself. Probably. You felt the back of your neck heat up. You desperately wished he would look away.

“What’s it to you?”

Theo opened his mouth before closing it again. He stewed in his thoughts for a minute while his jaw worked, as if he were trying to find the right words.

“You shouldn’t be alone on the holidays.”

You worried your bottom lip. Was this…concern?

“Maybe I want to be alone.”

“Do you?”

His otherwise dead eyes looked so inquisitive - so piercing yet unnervingly honest for someone as prone to manipulation as him. You couldn’t bring yourself to lie to those eyes. You dropped your gaze to where your fingers were fidgeting with the hem of your skirt.

“It’s complicated.”

“So explain.”

You laughed humourlessly. “They wouldn’t understand.”

You watched the shadows on the tower’s floor shift. You looked up to see Theo finishing off his cigarette as he moved to join you, looking out at the same Hogwarts grounds you were facing. It seemed to make it easier, this pseudo-confession, without the brunt of his needling stare.

Here was someone you didn’t feel the urge to explain yourself to. You felt…less alone. Like you finally had someone unequivocally on your side. It had been a long time since you felt that way.

Even with the slight distance between you, you could feel the body heat he radiated. You leaned towards him slightly, but you told yourself it was only because he was blocking the wind and you were sick of shivering. Perhaps you weren’t as subtle as you would have liked, because he stretched an arm around you, running his hand up and down your arm to warm you up as you sank into his heat gratefully. You didn’t have the heart to pull away. You didn’t want to pull away.

“You could explain it to me, you know.” Theo glanced down to where you were resting your head on his shoulder. “If you wanted.”

You toyed with the idea. So, basically, I’m sick of every relationship I’ve been in falling flat, and lately I’ve been feeling like even my friends don’t understand me, so you’ve caught me just as I’m giving up on it - love, that is, romantic or otherwise. You pulled a face. It sounded far too melodramatic even in your own head. Still, you tried.

“Have you ever felt like…giving up?” Theo’s brow furrowed even more. “No, not - I’m not suicidal. Just…when everything gets too exhausting, and reaching out just feels so…”

“Once.”

You hesitated. You weren’t expecting him to agree. Sympathise, maybe.

“After my mother died.”

“…oh.”

Could you sound any more stupid? But you couldn’t help it - in a group of friends who regularly made cracks at each other’s Death Eater fathers, Theo’s mother was a strictly off-limits topic.

"It was a couple of years back." Theo's voice sounded different now; blithe and almost aggressively neutral. "In front of me. I didn't realise until it was too late, but she was my best friend." He paused, idly tracing the lines on his palm, but you got the distinct impression that he was trying very hard to discuss something that was very difficult to talk about.

“I was -“ he broke off with a sharp bark of laughter that sounded as painful as it was unexpected. “I was angry, actually. Fucking livid. Angry at my dad, for being such a piece of shit. Angry at myself, for every time I thought I was too cool to spend time with her. Angry at her because…because it was too soon, and she was all I had. And she knew that.”

Theo had a white knuckle grip on the edge of the tower’s floor, looking dangerously close to trembling. Every ridge in his face stood taut with the ache of poorly healed emotional wounds. “She knew it. She fucking knew it.”

You placed a hand over his. He drummed his fingers restlessly against the floor, and you could feel the agitation seeping out of him as his breathing evened out.

“How did you get over it? The anger?”

Theo gave you a strange, almost pitying look.

“I’m angry nearly every day of my life, Y/N.”

He sighed and dropped his head, finally leaning into you as well, his hand drifting innocently along your arm as he talked, as if you were old friends. “But if Matteo and the others have drilled anything in my head over the years, it’s that isolating yourself is the real killer.”

Your fists were clenched tightly in your lap. It was almost comforting, seeing how your body language mirrored each other's. You didn't think you would ever feel ready to do it once more, letting yourself be susceptible to heartbreak or loss, in this lifetime or the next, but perhaps...perhaps you could manage. For him. You turned slightly, burying your face into his neck and closing your eyes.

“I suppose…I could try," you started in a small voice, partially muffled by Theo's shirt. You took a deep breath in. God, his neck smelled so good. "One last time."

“Of course you can,” Theo murmured, sounding unreasonably patient. “You’re stronger than this.”

“You think so?”

“I know so.”

You let him keep holding you for a little while longer, just until you warmed up to the idea The quiet felt nice. Theo felt nice, in every sense of the phrase.

“I’m starting to think you didn’t come here for just a smoke break.”

"Ivy might have mentioned something," he confessed. You bit back a smile. You should have guessed. "Your friends really care about you, you know. And you've really worried them."

The bitter taste of guilt hit your jaw. You idly traced the stitching of Theo's jean's pockets. Someone else also seemed rather worried, though you weren't about to point that out.

"Have I?"

"Afraid so. You're lucky you're so precious."

Theo tapped your nose, and for the first time that evening, you grinned. After weeks of wandering in a cloud of grief, the motion felt achingly familiar. Theo returned the smile, as if you couldn't help but amuse him.

“There it is.”

“There what is?”

He looked momentarily speechless again. You frowned. If you didn’t know any better, you’d think that you made him as nervous as he made you.

“Nothing,” he mumbled hastily. “Can we go back down? It’s freezing up here.”

present day

"Morning."

With some difficulty, you extracted yourself from Theo's embrace. You cleared your raspy throat as you stretched out your stiff limbs.

"H'llo."

Theo leaned down to give you a peck on the lips and you wrapped your arms around his neck. As he pulled back, your hands slid to his face, then down to his shoulders. You weren't entirely sure what you were looking for. "Better?"

"Yes." You saw the sleepy bliss fading from his face. "I'm sorry I woke you."

"You didn't," you lied. "I was up anyway."

Theo quirked an eyebrow interestedly. "What could a respectable girl like you be doing at three in the morning?"

You giggled softly and pulled him on top of you, and you thought he gave a rather appealing demonstration on what you might have been doing. A while later, you glanced at the clock, and saw that it was getting dangerously close to afternoon.

"We should probably get up."

"Mhm. You still need to decide what you want for Christmas, by the way."

Cold air rushed in as Theo rolled off of you, pulling his clothes on. You dragged yourself to the bathroom, still trying to figure out what to ask for. When you stepped out, feeling much more human, Theo was missing. You wandered into the empty common room where he had already set out two steaming mugs of that disgusting peppermint tea on one of the tables, complete with candy canes.

His eyebags are terrible as ever, and he's yawning, but he looks happy. Content. As content as you feel. And you think, this is all you want. For Theo to always get the cold side of his pillow, all the peppermint tea he could want, pleasant Hogsmeade trips...a real break, for once. For him to get everything that he asks for, and more.

bonus outtake

"Let's talk about something else. Anything else." Theo pulled you into his lap. "Like what an adorable elf you make."

You narrowed your eyes at him. "I'm not sneaking you into this year's gift donation drive."

"Why not?"

You should have known this was coming. "Listen, you got yourself banned last year."

"It wasn't even my fault. You didn't even hear how snarky that guy was being. 'Oh, where's your present?' Jackass."

"The jackass was 13, Theo."

He sniffed with an injured air. "It's not like I lied to him or something, you know."

"Again, for the last time, I cannot impress enough how incredibly inappropriate it is to point out one of the helper elves as your 'present' to a 13-year-old boy."

"But you were my present. I got to unwrap you and everything afterwards."

[aplaceinthedark]

chapter 5: WHEN the NIGHT'S DUE

Summary: The Appalachian Mountains hide numerous monsters, and it's up to Taylor and the Bad Omens to prevent them from causing any harm.

Word Count: 2.5k+

CW: Supernatural themes, mentions of witchcraft

This is RPF, and thus will contain real people, but names and events will be changed. If this bothers you too much, then please leave this temple without causing harm.

“I'll do it.”

I told Nick those words forty-eight hours after his proposal. He had looked up from his drawing tablet with wide green eyes, and he nearly let out his breath when I continued.

“On one condition.”

I learned his Practice. Despite not having his Gift, I had learned that I could be taught how to do certain things. I had done it once, maybe I could do it again.

“You casted that location spell because of my essence nestled in your soul,” Nick had explained. He had used his own soul to heal me, and I kept a hold of it until it could find its way back to Nick: when I used it to bring him back from the dead.

“But you could still teach me so I can help you with the hex books.” I had even fluttered my eyelashes at him.

Honestly, it hadn't taken much persuading to get him to yield. "After the Ritual, we’ll start,” he said, kissing me on the nose.

And that's how I found myself reading a translated hex book, lying on my stomach on a warm, dry rock.

The first day of May fortunately provided a steady warmth, though it didn't extend to this part of the woods. Thankfully the sun was out, warming the spot Jolly and I occupied. Over the months, I had learned to use Jolly's music as a way to focus, and now I could resist the alluring magic of it.

Where Folio had become the energetic younger brother and Noah had become the annoying middle child, Jolly was more my friend than the others. We could sit in companionable silence and be fine, as opposed to the other two haints. I just wish I could see him more often, since he was confined to the river that ran through the Holler.

The same Holler which would be the scene for tonight.

That thought crept up on me again, and I shook my head as if that could erase it. Nick was back at our home, preparing for tonight. Apparently, there were “things he had to prep,” which he wouldn't tell me about. Of course, he told Noah, which didn't help my uneasiness.

My anxiousness started to bubble in the pit of my stomach, so I closed my eyes and focused on Jolly again:

“I thought I wanted legacy; I thought I wanted fame. I didn't know I'd lose all my loved ones in exchange,” he sang quietly, barely audible over the strings of his guitar. “Left them all behind, and, yeah, for that I am ashamed, but that's the price I'm paying ‘til I'm buried in my grave.”

“When did you make that one?” I asked.

Jolly continued plucking at the strings. “This one was one of the first songs I made,” he said.

“You haven't played it before.”

“I play it a lot, lilla. You're just not around for it.”

I made a face at his back. He let out a throaty chuckle.

“Your entourage is back,” Jolly said suddenly.

I looked over my shoulder and along the riverbank to see Folio making his way through the shallows. The New Moon was over, so he wasn't confined to his Grim shape, but I could tell he was still suffering from what Noah liked to call “Dog Brain.”

“Up and at ‘em, Bunny,” Folio said, flashing his sharp teeth up at me. I rolled my eyes.

“Until next time, Jolly,” I said, gathering my things and stuffing them into my bag. Jolly hummed out a response.

“You could always provide tonight's mood music!” Folio joked, earning a glare from the two of us.

I unsteadily made my way down the rock until I was in Folio's reach. He suddenly wrapped his hands around my waist, picking me up and putting me down on ground level. His hands lingered, especially when he threw an arm around my shoulders as we walked into the forest.

“Uh, Fish?” I piped up.

“Hm?”

“You're being handsy,” I said.

He jerked away with a hastily mumbled apology. I heard him mumble something about “must be near the time of the month.”

Slowly we made our way back to the house, where Nick was waiting for us. Folio immediately beelined for the shower, and I almost made it to the dining room table before Nick intercepted me.

“Nicky–” I was cut off when he placed his lips along my neck. “Nick, Folio's here.”

“I don't care,” Nick muttered into my skin, kissing a path up to my jaw.

“You'll care when he gets whipped up into a frenzy. Remember the last time that happened?”

He sighed, pulling away. “I hate that you're right,” he said.

“You alright? You never jump on me like this,” I said.

His response was not what I expected. “Let's just… call the whole thing off. Maybe there's another way in the hex books–”

“Nicholas Ryan Ruffilo, this was your idea.” I crossed my arms over my chest.

Nick groaned. “I know, I know, but…” he trailed off, then sighed again. “I'm sorry. Working on the ritual for tonight has got me annoyed.”

“Anything I could do to help?" I asked.

“Nope, I'm done. The next steps are in Noah’s and your hands.”

I grimaced, and I was about to agree with him when Folio came out of the bathroom. “Guys, you're gonna undo what the cold shower did if you keep it up," he grumbled.

“Then I suppose you're not staying for dinner?” Nick asked.

“Did those words come out of my mouth? I'm sure those words didn't come out of my mouth.”

I don't know how we were able to have a normal supper despite the gravity of the night hanging over us, but we did. It was a little bit quieter, since Folio wasn't his usual chatty self. Not to mention Noah was missing.

Folio didn't stay long after that. “What's his problem? Did I miss something?” I asked.

“He's grouchy because he doesn't get a turn. His words, not mine," Nick said. I rolled my eyes.

With the sun setting, Nick started getting' everything ready. I watched him put several things in a bag, including candles and a thermos. “Is there something I'm supposed to do?" I asked.

“As much as I don't want to, I have to send you into the woods," Nick said. Seeing my worried face, he hurriedly continued. “Don't worry, Noah's got the path locked down. He'll meet you halfway and take you to the Grove.”

“And when we get there?” I asked.

“Take the candles and place them in a circle. The biggest one goes at the base of the big oak tree. You'll know which one it is when you see it," he said, his back to me as he opened the fridge. “That's the candle that gets lit last. You both drink the tea that's in there. That'll help with… the warmth."

“And then?”

“You know what happens next," he said. “As long as it… takes.”

“As long as it takes? What's that supposed to mean?” I asked incredulously.

“As long as it takes. Could be a few minutes, could be all night," he said. He turned around and placed a bunch of flowers on the table.

"Nick. I'm thirty. Not to mention crippled,” I said.

“I don't know, that's never stopped you before,” he said, weakly smiling at me. “Is the tattoo not helping?”

“It's fine,” I said. I sighed. “Do I have to wear something? Or can I just wear what I have on now?”

He eyed my borrowed Deftones shirt and jeans. "Honestly? That's fine. You just have to wear that.” He pointed to the flowers.

“I have to wear a bouquet?” I asked

“Listen, it's been a while since I made a flower crown. And my sister wasn't exactly the best teacher.”

Nick gently placed the flower crown on my head. It shifted downwards, one side more than the other. It pushed my bangs into my eyes, concealing Nick behind a curtain of blonde.

“Alright, that’s kinda cute.”

I pushed the crown up. “Alright, anything else?” I asked.

There was only a moment before Nick crowded me against the door, his full lips crashing onto mine. I met him with the same amount of fervor, forgetting what I had to do tonight. As I opened my mouth to him, he groaned and pulled away.

“If we continue, I won't be able to let you go out there,” he said. He turned and picked up the bag. “Guess that means it's time to go.”

Nick slipped his denim jacket onto me before we went outside. The warmth from earlier had vanished, probably even before the sun had set. The familiar background noise of the forest was comforting.

Nick led me down to where the weeds separated my lawn from the woods. He then pressed a flashlight into my hand and slipped the bag onto my shoulder.

“Just keep walking in a straight line until you see Noah,” he said. “And you know the rules.”

“Eyes straight, don't conversate,” I said our motto from memory.

He smiled, but it didn't reach his eyes. He kissed my forehead. “Love you, Bun.”

“Love you, Nicky.”

“If he treats you bad, kick his ass,” he said.

I nodded and started walking. As soon as both feet were inside the forest, all sounds stopped. The urge to look back at Nick was strong, but the third rule was stronger. Don't look back.

I didn't know how long I had been walking. My phone was back at the house since it never worked right in the deep woods. The only way I could tell the time was by how tired my legs were and how my hip protested. Nick's enchanted tattoo could only do so much.

The worst part was that Noah wasn't talking. I tried casting out my thoughts, but all I got was radio silence… brain silence? Whatever it could be called. I asked him how much further, can't he just meet me now, all that. Nothing. It was just me, my flashlight, and the eerie forest.

I had started to think that maybe he had called the whole thing off when I heard a noise behind me. My footsteps faltered a bit, but I kept walking. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw a large shadow disappear. Not like my humanoid shadow; this one looked like an animal.

It's probably Folio, making sure you're safe, I told myself. They wouldn't leave you out here in danger.

It was hard to keep my eyes forward, especially when I knew that presence was there. And especially when it kept circling closer and closer.

Just Folio just Folio just Folio.

It passed the corner of my vision again, closer this time, and with startling horror, I realized it was twice as big as Folio and wasn't white.

NOAH FOR THE LOVE OF FUCK–

Suddenly, the Thing vanished. I could hear heavy steps retreating, as if it got scared or was lured away. I stopped my trek for a moment, sucking in my breath to calm my frantically beating heart.

When I let out my breath, I noticed it was visible. I had passed into the holler.

“You made it.”

I gasped as I whipped towards Noah's voice. Noah blinked as the beam of my flashlight hit his face. He was just standing there, hands in the pockets of his ratty jeans.

"What the hell was even–” I cut myself off, realizing I was practically shouting. Lowering my voice, I asked, "What was that?”

Recovered, Noah frowned, brow furrowing. “Something definitely not from the Valley, and definitely not from this part of the mountains.”

“You could've at least acknowledged me," I said, wrapping Nick's jacket tighter around me. The flower crown slipped a little further down, almost obscuring my vision again. I pushed it back up with a finger.

Despite the low light from the flashlight, I caught a flicker of fear on Noah's face before he schooled it back to one of indifference. “C’mon, we still have a ways to go.” He turned and walked away.

“Hang on–” I stumbled after him. A sharp pain shot up from my knee. “Ow! I just hiked here. Can't I get a… break?”

“We have to get started before midnight,” Noah said, but at least he stopped.

“Oh yeah, let's fuck after I climbed and was tailed by some unknown Thing–”

Noah had been moving back to me, but I didn’t anticipate him picking me up and throwing me over his shoulder. “Noah! What are you–” I demanded. The flower crown had fallen onto the ground, and it was quickly abandoned as Noah started walking.

“Taking you to the Grove. What else would it be?” he asked, his tone cold.

“Listen, you ass,” I snapped, pushing myself up to where my upper half was parallel to the ground. “Put me down or I'll–”

“What? Kick my ass?" he snorted. The urge to punch him right in the center of his back tree tattoo was rising.

“Nick told me to if you were an ass to me,” I shot back.

“He told me, and I would love to see you try.”

“At least carry me with some dignity instead of manhandling–"

I was suddenly tipping backwards as he pulled me off his shoulder and put me back on the ground. I stumbled back a few steps before catching myself.

"I'm not doing this if all we're gonna do is bicker the whole way there,” he said.

“Noah, all I wanted was a break. I'm in pain," I stated. “And before you say that that's why you were carrying me, you practically folded me in half over your shoulder.”

Noah was clenching and unclenching his hands. If I hadn't known better, I would've said he was trying to prevent himself from hitting me. Except I knew it was a nervous tic.

“Noah, what's wrong?" I asked.

With one breath, he thawed. “I can't– I don't–” the stammered before pausing. He looked back up from the ground to me, that fear from earlier painted clearly on his face. “I don't think I can do this.”

My mouth went dry. All that time trying to get me warmed up to this idea, and we never considered to ask Noah if he was still up for this. “Noah, it's okay."

“No it's not!" he shouted. "I've only been the Watcher for barely several years, and I fucked that up! What's not to say I don't fuck up this?”

Oh.

“Well, what's to say that I don't fuck this up?" I asked. “I don't know what I'm doing either.”

That seemed to ease him a little bit. I closed the distance and placed my hand on his arm. “Let's go be fuck-ups. Together.”

That got him to smile a little bit. “Fine. Let's go be fuck-ups," he said. He then held out his arms. “Your carriage, m’lady. Gender neutrally saying, of course.”

Instead I dodged around him and jogged back to the flower crown. I picked it up and plopped it back onto my head. I then ran back to him and bent at the knees. He scooped me up with an ease that surprised me.

And we went to the Grove. Together.

tysm for reading! If you enjoyed this, please reblog to share the word of the Revered Father. Next chapter coming soon (you know what it is)

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@poisongirl616

[wandixx]

Seriously chaotic fashion misadventures

I realized I posted a teaser and never really followed up on it, so here is some more of that

“Hey, Dami?”

Boy hadn’t looked up from the kittens he was bottle feeding but let out a hum indicating he listened.

“I'm thinking about trying out a more girlish style. Do you think it would suit me?”

Well, Damian had no idea but if Dani wished to give it a chance, then, well, the only proper reaction was to offer his aid.

*-*-*

“Father, I require access to your rouge gallery.”

Bruce almost choked on his breakfast when his youngest made this announcement.

Rouge gallery, as his children playfully called it, was vast collection of lipsticks, which he collected to uphold his Brucie persona. Famous playboy with head constantly in the clouds couldn’t not show up with discreet signs of scandal from time to time. And it couldn’t always be the same shade. Or scent when he choose more subtle approach and used one of his more feminine perfumes.

In all honesty, he enjoyed this.

But that’s not the point, point was that Damian wanted to use it and Bruce needed to know what disaster would fall upon him if he agreed.

“Mind telling me why, chum?”

Dick, who visited Manor for a weekend, barely stifled his laughter while Tim stared at his empty coffee mug like it personally betrayed him. Cass just wore her usual knowing and mischievous smile.

Damian shifted in his chair, hands clenching on butter knife. He was nervous and suddenly Bruce dreaded the answer he was about to hear.

“I don’t see how me sharing this information would change anything. It won’t be used to cause harm to anyone but it’s necessary in the extracurricular project I just started.”

“Dami, what project?” Dick asked, voice oozing with genuine curiosity and excitement. He was almost bouncing.

“I don’t want to disclose it.”

“Is this a hero or civilian type of deal?”

Damian didn’t look any of them in the eyes, both hands clenching on his seat as he kept shifting. Bruce narrowed his eyes. Was his youngest… flustered?

“Civilian”

“Alright, great” Dick swung back with single clap, almost tripping his chair over “I think B won’t have anything against you using his rouge gallery, will he?” Man knew his oldest son well enough to recognize his ‘don’t you dare to disagree’ tone. He was confused but there wasn’t any harm so he nodded with affirmative hum.

“Thank you, Father”

Boy practically inhaled rest of his food and rushed outside. Despite all his training and all his efforts, they clearly saw his excitement. Tim pinched himself and returned to staring at his mug.

“Cass, have you seen what I’ve seen or am I overreacting?” Dick asked, barely restraining his enthusiasm. Girl nodded eagerly, shoving more crumbs into her mouth. Young man cheered, throwing his hands up.

“What have I missed?” Tim mumbled, frowning a little.

“BABY BAT HAS A CRUSH!”

Cass nodded again with wide smile.

Oh.

Oh no.

Who were they? What did he know about them? Was Protocol 3r0s started? Did someone run a background check already? What could they do if they somehow hurt Damian? Was this person a risk to their identities? Oh gods, oh no.

He probably will have to do The Talk™.

He always dreaded having The Talk, with any of his kids. He felt The Talk with Damian would be even worse. Understandably so.

“Also sleep in at least three da-”

“Fuck off, dick.”

“Was this insult or-”

His children remained obvious to how much work it meant, cheering and sassing each other like they often did.

*-*-*

Damian did not know how it was possible but he lowered his guard enough to get caught.

"What are you doing?" Brown choked out after they stared at each other for a long moment.

"It does not concern you–"

"You're rummaging through my wardrobe, not many things concern me more and also, that's frickin creepy don't do it to anyone outside of the family"

She did have a point however he was not convinced it would be the correct approach if he shared his plan. Father's wards (even unofficial like Brown) tended to make assumptions and overreact based on these conjectures. Dani wasn't easy to scare off but he didn't want to check if his family would manage. They often did things thought to be impossible.

He tried to get away but the blonde stood fiercely in a door, leaving the window as the only way out. He wasn't this desperate. Yet.

Girl looked more and more angry at his silence. He had to give her some answers.

Now that he actually considered it, she could be a useful asset. She was far better versed in women's fashion and if he phrased it correctly, he wouldn't even need to bribe her. Question was, how should he phrase it?

"I have an acquaintance- I have a friend," he corrected himself "from the animal shelter I volunteer at. She mentioned wanting to try out more 'girlish style' and asked for my opinion. I wanted to see if you had any clothes that would fit her. She is smaller than me so I thought that whatever I take, it wouldn't be missed." 

Brown grinned with an unsettling gleam in her eyes. He suddenly regretted opening his mouth if not coming to this room in the first place. 

"Say no more, I have a plan Demon Child"

[alchemistc]

i like your voice in person

Evan's staring at the bed like he's trying to navigate a minefield.

Six months ago that would have sent Tommy on another journey of self-deprecation, a reminder that he'd known Evan wasn't ready for this, known this was a possibility, but Evan, for all his own insecurities, knows what the hell he wants and if he'd felt even an ounce of pressure or remorse up to this point he'd have said something long before now.

Sometimes Evan likes to work it out himself, and sometimes he needs a little nudge, and Tommy watches the head tilt and the angle of his pursed lips for cues as he settles under the sheets.

"Something on your mind?" he prompts, and Evan blinks, like he hadn't realized he'd gotten lost in his thoughts.

"Uh...nothing, maybe."

"Sounds like something, probably."

Evan's smile tilts up at one corner, and he settles on the bed a little stiffly. "It's nothing major. Just. Something I've been thinking about?"

He can feel his brows jumping, can see the way Evan takes in the look with a fond expression. Evan steels himself for something -- they're still muddling through past experiences and learning how to be a bit more intentional in some of their conversations, because they both have a bad habit of reverting to flirting and deflection.

"You remember what we talked about last weekend?"

Tommy can genuinely remember about 93 percent of what he and Evan talk about at any given time, which is an astronomically high number and not at all an exaggeration. He'd be embarrassed about it if he didn't have clear evidence that Evan was as deep into this as he was.

They talk a lot, is the thing, about inconsequential shit just as much (definitely more) than the important stuff. They talk far more than Tommy can remember talking in any other relationship he's been in. But Tommy can pinpoint the exact one he means.

"You mean the roles thing."

Evan hadn't been a stranger to a little daddy talk in bed when they started to explore it, and he'd brought it up right at the start for a reason, but Tommy had taken a while to come around to the realization that Evan had sort of internalized the 'I don't have daddy issues' of it all in a way that Tommy hadn't actually meant it. There'd been little things, here and there; like Evan reaching a door before him and then bashfully waiting with it half open like he'd made a misstep; like twisting his mouth a little funny when he snatched the bill from the table before Tommy could get it. Little things.

Things that, in the abstract, yeah, Tommy liked to do for his partners, but in reality weren't actually that big a deal to him.

He'd needed to clear the air.

Evan nods. Curls a hand around his knee before he shifts his body so that he's facing Tommy. "So, I like taking care of people."

(A conversation, a month ago, Evan grimacing around "My therapist says I have to stop calling myself a people pleaser in a derogatory way.")

Tommy hums, something to remind Evan he's listening.

"And I guess I sort of built up this idea in my head that that was like, a hard stop with you."

("Everyone likes being taken care of sometimes, Evan.")

"And I'm not -- I'm not upset at you, or like, feeling guilty, I just -- I've been thinking about it, and I feel like I forgot to ask you how you wanted to be taken care of."

The thing with Evan is that no matter how often he'll deflect with a joke, when he wants to say something serious he's blunt as hell about it. There might be some hemming and hawing to get there but sometimes he says things that just make Tommy wonder if he'd ever actually learned how to say things before Evan.

"I don't really have a list, babe," he says, and then sort of hates himself for it. Deflect, distract, hey baby how about I blow you about all these big feelings inside my chest I can't articulate.

Evan, though, Evan squinches his eyes and runs a heavy hand through his hair. "I...sort of do?"

"Lay it on me."

Evan grins. "That's actually one of the things on my list."

Tommy blinks. Tries to figure out that trail of thought, but he's coming up with nothing. "Okay, can you expand on that?"

"Like --listen, you know I'm a huge fan of being the little spoon. I'd let someone put screws back in my leg just for continued little spoon privileges. But sometimes I miss being the big spoon, and in my head the idea sounded so stupid to bring up but now I'm wondering if, like, maybe I've just been denying you the joy of being the little spoon?"

Tommy thinks of Evan's hands spread big and warm across his belly, of knees tucked up behind his, warm breath on the back of his neck like when Evan stumbles up behind him in the mornings whining about coffee, and maybe he blue screens a bit because he's never actually dated someone so close to his own size, because there's always been an assumption at the outset that he wouldn't want that.

Alex had been a little too into the same dynamic he'd seen Evan stumbling through, and Colin had hated sleeping with someone's flesh touching his own. Beyond that he hadn't really dated anyone long enough to really form a preference.

Maybe Kara might have been willing, back when he'd been closeted enough to pretend it wasn't an effort to get it up when she had his dick in her mouth, but they'd been young enough that staying the night wasn't really a consideration.

"And like -- listen, I don't necessarily prescribe to gender roles as a thing in general, but a few weekends ago I spent like twenty minutes staring at a bouquet of flowers in Trader Joe's and convinced myself you wouldn't like the gesture so I didn't buy them but you have a few vases in your moms old china cabinet and the moment I remembered them I felt stupid for not buying the flowers."

There's something curling tenderly underneath Tommy's ribcage that he's not sure he's ever felt quite like this before. It's not new, exactly, but it seems to be thrumming particularly hard tonight.

Three months in, Tommy had gotten the man-flu from hell, temperatures so high he'd been grounded and sent packing to rest it off, and he'd texted Evan a jumbled mess of barely discernible things when they'd tucked him into the Uber.

Evan and Bobby had made chicken noodle soup at the station and Hen had sent Evan off with a laundry list of things he could do to help drop the fever, and Tommy had spent the duration sulking and glowering and dragging himself out of bed every time Evan had wanted to change the sheets, to keep Tommy as comfortable as he could, but when Evan had caught it four days later he hadn't hesitated to do all the same shit with gusto. Evan hadn't been particularly grateful either, because neither one of them liked being laid up when the world was out there waiting for them, but he'd at least had the grace to not be an asshole about it.

He had, though. Been grateful. A little awestruck, too, at the mere idea of someone so unafraid of just being there through all the moaning and groaning and hacking and coughing, keeping the tissues from piling up on the bedside table and switching out cold packs to the freezer so he always had one ready in case he wanted it. In the clarity of a full day without fever making his brain feel like cotton candy he'd stared down at a sleepily wheezing Evan and known he could absolutely lose his heart to this man.

"Also I don't want to toot my own horn here but I give excellent foot rubs, and I feel like there's about a million other things I've just been -- holding back from doing?"

"Because of the role thing, or because all your stupid exes told you you were needy?"

It's not a night to pull punches. Also Tommy wants to send thank you cards to every single one of them and attach them to boxes with a bark scorpion inside.

"Both," Evan says without a second of hesitation. His smile crinkles at the corners of his mouth, and Tommy is suddenly annoyed with the space between them. When he holds out his hand to tug Evan into him, Evan melts into it for the space of a moment before he pulls back. "I actually kind of desperately want to be the big spoon right now, if that's something you'd be into." Evan had definitely clocked the look on his face when he'd mentioned it, but he's keyed into the way Tommy checks in and reciprocated in kind since the start of this, so.

Tommy peels his glasses off, snags his bookmark to keep his spot in the monstrosity of the Wrangler maintenance manual he'd stopped being cagey about the fifth time Evan caught him flipping through it, and watches Evan settle comfortably into bed next to him. The problem is, Tommy actually isn't sure where to go from there, which is a ridiculous thought to have because Evan hadn't either and he'd figured it out just fine.

"How do you want me, Buckley?"

The roll of his eyes is so bitchy that Tommy has to remind himself that for all his people pleasing attributes, Evan Buckley is, at heart, a huge fucking brat. Evan tugs and twists and maneuvers his arms and Tommy sort of sinks into it, head tucked in the crook of his shoulder, draping his leg over one of Evan's when he shifts his knee pointedly, a massive, unruly breath escaping Tommy once they're all done shifting.

"You should absolutely try out the rest of your list," he murmurs into the space where Evan's shoulder meets his neck. "Although you don't need to woo me anymore, I'm actually fully wooed."

Lips against his crown, pressed tightly enough that he can feel the smile against his scalp, Evan chuckles. "You don't know how good my wooing is."

The fingers shifting up and down his arm feel somehow different, from this position, even though Evan has done it a hundred times before from the spot he likes to claim with his head right over Tommy's bleeding, three-sizes-too-big-for-him heart. It's ridiculous, and it shouldn't feel any different, but it does. He wants to be greedy with it, soak it in and then never let Evan do this again because he finally understands the appeal and he doesn't want to deprive Evan that.

"This is nicer than I expected."

Evan's soft laugh ruffles his hair, and Tommy wonders if he's dumb enough to ask Eddie how long he should wait before he can reasonably beg Evan to spend the rest of his life with him.

"Save the reviews for when I actually spoon you. It's gonna rock your world." His hand drifts up, fingers digging into the dimple of Tommy's skull.

The hum in his throat has a mind of it's own, going thin and reedy and --

Evan pauses, and Tommy can practically see the gears whirring in his mind, because this is new information.

To both of them, actually, but Tommy doesn't have time to process it because the fingers on the back of his skull spread and sink deeper, just enough pressure to be more than a glancing ruffle, and Tommy can't quite help the way he tilts his head back into it, or the way he hitches his leg to press his groin a little more firmly to the outside of Evan's thigh.

They're both too tired for it to really mean anything -- both off 48's and a fumbled round in the shower while they were already bone weary -- but Tommy wants the reminder for them both when they wake up in the morning.

He can feel his eyes drooping the longer Evan scrubs his fingers against him, and the thought pops into his head as he's drifting off. He doesn't want it to disappear into the fog, though, so he murmurs it into the soft, warm skin of Evan's neck. "I like camellia's. White ones."

Evan hums, and Tommy just knows that the moment he drops off, Evan will be reaching for his phone to google the language of flowers.

[keferon]

What are your thoughts on a decepticon prowl?

Oh I'm all for it. But! Only if he's actually a Con. Like. Wholeheartedly.

Not "nnnooo we're doingg a bad thing and I kind of dont wanna do bad thing but I have no choice poor me".

You know how in canon he truly believes he's on the right side and makes everything to ensure that Optimus wins the war? You know how he's willing to make every tough decision so Optimus doesn't have to risk his reputation? You know how he literally makes Autobots look like shiny brave and clean heroes who did nothing wrong ever?

I want all that but the other way around. I want him to do that for Megatron and for the Decepticons. The implications would be so fucking dramatic I could write a whole essay.

Low rank Cons would hate him so fucking bad.

Starscream would try to murder him at least once a day.

Megatron would absolutely treasure him. Autobots would have it r o u g h

Can you imagine

[hello-eeveev]

when the wizards look at each other 💕💕💕💕

[justaz]

im not a fan of modern merthur but the idea of them meeting in modern times and introducing themselves to each other and them laughing and bonding over their names being connected to the myth of king arthur and camelot is just so cute

[hinamie]

hhmmmmm uh im dusting the cobwebs off my brain trying 2 come up w something interestinf uhh.......anything non spoiler-y you can discuss w regards to geto in the atla au perchance?

hi rin !!!!! tysm fr sending i hope u r doing well <3

atla geto lore fr u courtesy of sam:

he's a waterbender from the northern water tribe. he can bloodbend but finds it distasteful

he gave gojo the betrothal necklace/proposed to him when they were 20 (all of the adult characters are aged up in the fic vs jjk canon ages)

all of his decisions are driven by a desire to lighten the burden placed on gojo's shoulders

aaaaand atla geto draws fr u courtesy of Me :3

jjk atla!au with @philosophiums